Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)

by Jaye L. Knight

  His skin was split open in a deep laceration along his side. Blood welled in it and spilled over. Josef grabbed a cloth from Leetra and pressed it to the wound. Marcus sucked in his breath.

  “Can you lie down on your left side?” Josef said.

  Marcus moved slowly, easing himself down, and exhaled loudly.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Liam needed to do something for his brother. He couldn’t just stand there.

  “You and Kyrin get a couple candles,” Josef told him. “I need more light.”

  Liam followed Kyrin to the nearby table, and they each grabbed a candlestick. He glanced at his sister. Her face was still drawn and pale. His probably matched. War and injury were always a part of the life he had grown up in, but he had never actually anticipated seeing Marcus go down like this.

  Back around their brother’s cot, they held the candles close for Josef to work. He pulled the bloodied cloth away from the wound with care. It wasn’t bleeding so heavily now, and he inspected it closely.

  “It doesn’t appear any organs were hit, praise the King.”

  “He’ll be all right?” Liam asked.

  Josef glanced at him, his weathered and wise face compassionate. “If I am correct and the wound doesn’t fester, he should be.”

  Liam let out a long breath and looked at Kyrin, sharing the relief. He couldn’t imagine losing Marcus. He’d always been there.

  Scrubbing his hands, Josef went to work on cleaning and stitching the wound. When he had finished, Marcus sat up again to make it easier for Josef to bandage him. He still looked pale after the blood he had lost. He sat for a moment and then held a hand out for his shirt.

  “Help me get dressed.”

  Liam frowned down at him. “What?”

  Marcus glanced up, his face determined. “I need to get back out there.”

  “I wouldn’t advise that,” Josef said. “I don’t believe you have any serious internal damage, but that doesn’t mean you won’t if you put stress on the wound.”

  “I need to be out with the men,” Marcus insisted. “I need to make sure they’re all right.”

  Liam agreed with Josef. He understood Marcus’s sense of duty, but he wasn’t about to let his brother risk his life unnecessarily when they had nearly lost him already.

  “I’ll be there.” The words were out of his mouth before he could reconsider. “I’ll make sure they’re all right.”

  He swallowed, his gut twisting. He had no idea what he was doing. It had never occurred to him that he might have to take over command for his brother. It was the last thing he felt capable of, but if it would keep Marcus safe, he had to do it.

  Marcus gave him a hesitant look, and Liam tried to project courage into his voice.

  “I am your lieutenant, after all.”

  Marcus had never come out and named Liam his lieutenant, but Liam had performed all the duties in the last months. Liam never would have sought the position, but it had fallen to him now.

  A slow smile came to Marcus’s face. “Yes, you are.”

  Liam took a deep breath, feeling a rush of confidence. “I’ll take care of the men.” And he would, to the very best of whatever ability he possessed. He licked his lips, still unable to shake his concern for Marcus. “But don’t you dare die on us. The men still need their captain.”

  Marcus gave a short chuckle that broke off with a wince, but a smile still hinted on his lips. “I won’t.”

  Liam nodded and looked at Kyrin. She was worried about him. Even he could see that. The last thing in Ilyon he wanted to do was go back out to that fight, but it had to be done. Determinedly, he turned for the door, but Marcus grabbed his arm. Liam looked down into his serious eyes.

  “I’m holding you to the same promise, you know.”

  Liam swallowed and gave a brief nod, though there wasn’t much confidence behind it. He strode for the door without looking back. If he did, it would destroy his resolve.

  Outside the fortress, the sounds of battle raged. His heart faltered and his footsteps grew heavy. Following Marcus into battle was one thing. Heading into it alone was quite another. Underneath his sweat-drenched clothes, a chill raced through him. He wasn’t made for this. He didn’t have the skills or smarts his brothers had. Back at Fort Rivor, he’d been the fool. Everyone would have laughed to see him in this position. He should have taken the spear instead of Marcus.

  He glanced at the sky. “I don’t understand, Elôm.”

  But it didn’t change the fact that he had a job to do. An important one. On the way up the steps, he brushed his clammy hands against his pants and pulled out his sword. He hoped he wouldn’t choke on his heart as it worked up into his throat.

  Moving down the wall, Liam reached the Landale men. The Samarans were successfully fending off the Arcacians for the moment, giving the militia a chance to question Liam.

  “Is the captain all right?”

  “What happened?”

  Liam looked around at all the questioning eyes boring into him. He fought the fuzziness in his head. “He took a spear to the side, but Josef thinks he will be all right.”

  Relief swept through the men. Marcus may not have commanded them for very long, but he inspired a lot of respect. Because of this, Liam saw what a blow it was to lose him in the middle of battle. Such a hit to their morale wouldn’t help them fight. He had to fix it, somehow, but he shook inside, his mouth like dry clay. He cleared his throat.

  “He may be injured, but he still expects us to keep up the fight.” Liam winced at the lack of strength in his voice, but pressed on. “We must stand firm and hold our ground.” His heartbeat drummed in his head. “Let’s send Daican’s army back to Valcré with a message that he can’t just walk in and take Samara for himself.” Around him, heads nodded, bolstering his courage. “And if they do succeed in taking it, then I say we make them pay for it.”

  Now the men gave hearty agreement, the fight back in their eyes. Some of the nearest men thumped Liam on the back. Though his innards were a jumble, Liam didn’t remember a time he had felt so strong. Taking Marcus’s place at the head of the men, he turned with them to face the next wave to break through.

  Kaden ducked under a blast of fire and swung Exsis around to take the firedrake from the side. Fire jetted from Exsis’s mouth, but it only scorched the beast’s tail. Kaden growled in frustration. This firedrake was more agile and dragon-like than most. Banking again, Kaden pursued it, focusing on the wings. He had a particular grudge against this one. The beast had left him with a painful burn to his left knee and hand.

  He was almost on top of it when movement flickered at his side. Glancing left, his mind registered the form of a dragon with a crete rider flying right at him. He ducked, but the dragon’s wing crashed into him. Pain exploded in his head and through his shoulder, and his hands yanked away from the saddle bar. He scrambled for a grip as he lurched sideways, but his left arm wouldn’t work. He slipped from Exsis’s back, open air meeting him. The plains below rushed upward.

  He was going to die.

  In the brief milliseconds, he accepted this. He wanted to close his eyes, but couldn’t. The ground was there in the next heartbeat, so close he could have touched it right as claws wrapped around him, snatching him up from instant death.

  A yell tore free at the pain that ripped through his shoulder. His dragon’s wings stirred up dust and dry grass as he slowed and set Kaden gently on the ground. Kaden stumbled forward and hit his knees, gasping. He’d fallen from Exsis before, but death had never been so close. He could still see the ground only feet from impact.

  “Thank You, Elôm,” he murmured, hanging his head.

  Blood dripped into his lap, and he reached up to his face, the oozing warmth of his blood coating his fingers. His left cheekbone stung, but it was the pain that shot through his left arm that consumed him. Biting back a groan, he reached for his dislocated shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. Exsis grumbled fretfully behind him.

  At the app
roach of dragon wings, Kaden looked up. Talas landed nearby and jumped off Storm.

  “Kaden!” He rushed over and knelt in front of him.

  “My shoulder,” Kaden said through his teeth. “Put it back in.”

  Talas eyed his injured face, and then moved to his side. His strong fingers wrapped around his arm. “Ready?”

  Kaden dragged in a couple deep breaths and nodded. He bit down hard, and Talas carefully maneuvered his arm. It burned like fire inside him, but then popped back into place. He let out a groan and exhaled. Letting the pain subside to a dull throb, he pushed to his feet and wiped the sleeve of his good arm across his face.

  “What happened?” Talas asked.

  Kaden’s jaw went taut as he looked to the battle overhead. “A dragon rammed me.”

  “A dragon?”

  Kaden nodded, dropping his gaze back to Talas. “Must have been one of Falcor’s men.”

  He shook his head. They blended in completely with the other cretes from Dorland. No one would realize they were enemies until it was too late. Who knew how many riders they had killed already?

  “We have to find him and any others. And warn everyone we can to be on alert.” He turned for Exsis.

  “I think you should go back to the keep,” Talas said. “That arm won’t be much use to you.”

  Kaden glanced back. “It’ll be fine.”

  There was no way he would leave the battle and his men for a dislocated shoulder. He’d have to be bleeding out before that happened. He climbed back onto Exsis, ignoring all the pain signals his brain was sending. The firedrake he had been after was forgotten. Now he was on a hunt for traitors.

  Talas rushed back to Storm and followed Kaden into the air. Kaden scanned the fighting above. If only he’d had a better look at the attacking dragon. It was female, so it couldn’t be Falcor, but the thought of the crete somewhere nearby burned inside him.

  There! A female dragon attacking another rider—one of Kaden’s men. Leaning forward, he urged Exsis toward the battle. As hard as they had trained, Kaden’s riders didn’t have the experience of a crete rider. The man struggled and would be dead if Kaden didn’t intervene quickly. Exsis let out a thunderous roar. The traitor crete looked back, and swooped around to meet them. The two dragons came together in a shrieking frenzy. All Kaden could do for the moment was hang on.

  The other dragon snapped at Exsis’s throat.

  “Roven!” Kaden shouted.

  With a burst of flames, they broke apart. Kaden prepared for another assault, but the dragon had disappeared. He looked all around, but in a sky full of dragons, it was nearly impossible to tell one from another. He scowled, but then caught the swoosh of wings over Exsis’s. He whipped his head around. The dragon soared up right behind him, its mouth already open to pour out fire. Kaden pushed Exsis into a sharp dive, but heat blasted his back.

  He glanced over his shoulder. The dragon and crete were right on his tail. He banked and dove, climbed, and dove again—any maneuver he could think of—but he couldn’t shake the dragon. With every minute, it got ever closer to doing serious harm.

  Kaden ground his teeth together. He had only one idea left—the very maneuver that had thrown him from Exsis in training. It was the only time he had ever tried it. Did he feel like getting thrown and risking death again? Not really, but what other choice did he have? The traitor crete would roast him if he didn’t act now.

  Taking a gulping breath, potentially one of his last, Kaden dug his feet deep into the stirrups and gripped the saddle bar with both hands. Before he had a chance to question his sanity, he gave Exsis the command. In a blink, the dragon curled his head down and did a somersault in the air, Kaden dangling upside down from his back. He tried not to yell at the fiery pain streaking through his shoulder as he held on for dear life. The female dragon shot over them, and Exsis flamed her underside.

  Just as they began to fall, Exsis flapped and righted himself. Kaden breathed hard, dizzied, and shook his head to clear it before urging Exsis to follow the other dragon. Now he was the pursuer.

  The traitor crete attempted to evade him, but that last attack had slowed the female dragon. Her right wing was blackened and tattered. Kaden hated harming such a fine creature, but this was war. If he didn’t stop the crete, others would die.

  Closing the distance, Kaden commanded another burst of fire aimed right at the crete’s back. The man slumped forward. With one more lengthy blast, the dragon and rider plummeted. A moment of regret stung Kaden, but a sky still full of battling dragons and firedrakes commanded his attention.

  Was he still alive? Kaden didn’t know how it was possible after a day like this, but here he was in the courtyard again as darkness descended. Thinking of how sore he thought he was the night before, he would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. That was nothing. Tonight, he didn’t even know if he could move. He cast his fatigue-blurred eyes about as others landed around him.

  Six.

  Only six of his men had survived, including Talas. He hung his head. Most of his force was decimated, and those left looked half-dead—exhausted, miserable, and sporting a large array of wounds.

  Wanting to just lie back and stay right where he was, Kaden forced himself up and almost fell out of the saddle. From the ground, he glanced toward the cretes gathering. Their ranks were disturbingly thinned as well. He was glad to spot Captain Darq among them. The crete captain’s right arm looked badly burned, but he walked amongst his men as if unaware of it. Where did he get that kind of energy?

  Kaden turned to Exsis to unbuckle his saddle, though with only the use of his right arm. To try to raise his left was agony.

  Talas walked over to him as he struggled with a buckle. “Go inside. I’ll look after Exsis.”

  Kaden shook his head. Even injured, he wouldn’t shirk his duties. Talas sighed.

  Glancing to the steady stream of men coming from the wall, Kaden caught sight of several familiar faces. To see them alive soothed some of the weariness. Jace and Liam broke from the group and came toward him. Neither appeared seriously injured, though Jace had blood dripping down one side of his face.

  Kaden’s heart thudded. Someone was missing.

  “Where’s Marcus?” he asked the moment they reached him.

  “He was injured by a spear,” Liam answered, “but last time I saw him, Josef thought he’d be all right.”

  Kaden breathed out hard. He’d worried there for a moment. He swallowed, his parched throat raw. In reluctance, he asked, “Did we lose anyone?”

  “We lost quite a few from the militia.” Liam winced. “But Trask and the others are safe.”

  Kaden was too tired to do more than nod and whisper thanks in his heart.

  Stepping up, Talas said to Jace and Liam, “Would you two take him inside? He’s being stubborn about it.”

  Kaden sent him a dark look, but couldn’t resist them. Cradling his aching arm, he walked with them to the keep.

  “What happened to you?”

  Kaden looked at Liam and recounted how he had received his injuries, but they were the last things on his mind when they entered the keep. In the nearly full infirmary, he sought one person.

  “This way,” Liam said.

  Kaden followed him toward a nearby cot, where Marcus was lying propped up but clearly alert. A smile stretched across his face when he saw Kaden and Liam. They walked over to him. Kaden dropped to his knees beside him, his burnt skin stinging. Now that he was down, he didn’t know how he would get back up.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked his brother.

  Marcus eyed his condition. “Better than you, I expect.”

  Kaden laughed dryly. “Probably.” He winced, pain shooting down his arm.

  “You should get those injuries looked at.”

  Kaden glanced around the room. So many were wounded, and more coming in. Many were worse than him.

  “I will when things quiet down.” He eased back against the wall. He could easily fall asleep here
.

  Marcus looked up at Liam. “How are the men?”

  Liam grimaced. “We lost about a third of them. Quite a few are wounded.”

  Marcus breathed out slowly.

  Liam looked around the room. “I’m going to see what I can do to help.”

  He left Kaden and Marcus, quickly pitching in to tend the wounded. It surprised Kaden. He wasn’t usually so outgoing.

  “He commanded the militia today after I was wounded,” Marcus said.

  Kaden raised his brows. That didn’t sound like Liam at all, but he must have done a perfectly fine job.

  “Honestly, I wasn’t sure he could survive the day,” Marcus said quietly. He shook his head. “But look at him. Barely has a scratch.”

  Kaden peered at his brother. Marcus was right. Elôm must have put a shield of protection around him.

  A moment later, General Mason walked over to them. He asked after their health and then focused on Marcus.

  “I wanted to let you know that your men were vital today. From all the reports I’ve received, we couldn’t have done it without you. Make sure your men know that, and how grateful we are for your assistance.”

  “I will,” Marcus replied.

  Liam certainly had done a fine job.

  The general’s attention shifted to Kaden. “And we’d be lost entirely without your men and the cretes.”

  “Glad to help, General,” Kaden said.

  Mason nodded at both of them, moving on and stopping at each of the cots bearing the wounded soldiers. Things were quiet between Kaden and Marcus for a minute or two before Marcus looked over at him.

  “So, what happened to you out there?”

  Kaden sighed, and they traded their battle stories. Kaden could sense his older brother’s frustration over being taken out of the fight so early. After a time, they grew silent again, and Kaden did doze off, though he didn’t realize it until Kyrin woke him sometime later. Kneeling in front of him, she smiled gently.