by K. F. Breene
The tall man’s hand slowly came away from his body. Metal glinted in the moonlight as he neared the first man. With a sudden movement, the tall man plunged something into the first, and a hoarse scream broke the tranquility. The tall man shoved the other to the ground and delivered one more stab. He straightened up and ran, heading straight for Leilius.
Fighting the instinct to flinch closer to the corner and the deeper shadow, Leilius froze. The screaming tapered off as the tall man kept coming, blade at his side, head moving from side to side. He wasn’t intoxicated, which meant he had an agenda. He was wearing black, but his clothing was all wrong for a Graygual, as was his build, which was lanky and bony. Voices sounded as people stumbled out of the doorway and bent to the now moaning man.
The tall man dodged around the corner five feet from where Leilius stood, and stopped, breathing loudly. Something slid against the wall, probably the man’s back, as the people down the way carried the injured man toward the door. Those not employed looked around, as though the murderer could be seen with such a vague attempt.
A head slowly came out from the corner, the breathing still ragged, fear-induced. He should easily see Leilius—hell, he could reach around to touch Leilius.
Still Leilius did not move, not even for his knife.
A long moment passed. Shouts drifted away. The laggers drifted out of the night. The head retracted, and shuffling announced the murderer slipping away.
At that moment, something caught Leilius’ eye. Off to the side, a small something disappeared around a bend, at eye level.
Thinking of Boas, Leilius squinted into the murky black, waiting for it to reappear.
“Shall we—”
Leilius struck sideways without thinking, his heart throbbing in sudden terror. His hand was knocked away, sending his knife clattering to the street. A strong hand hit his chest, pushing him against the wall.
“Don’t chase it,” Boas said softly, looking down the lane where the man had fallen and likely died. “If they look out, they’ll see you.”
“Where the hell were you?” Leilius clutched his chest, gulping for air.
“I moved in close when you were preoccupied with the killing. I applaud you for letting the murderer walk away. I thought your people were do-gooders.”
“We are, but a stabbing in a bar with gambling and heaven knows what else is their own fault. It’s none of my business.”
“Right you are. In case you feel guilty when the fear has left you later, just be glad that I killed him moments ago.”
“With your mind, or…”
“Obviously. I am not able to be two places at once.”
Leilius’ gaze jerked up to the place across the way. Nothing moved. “Do you sense anything out that way?” He pointed.
“No. All is clear.”
“A moment ago?”
Boas was silent for a moment. “Not that I’m aware, but a rodent got by me earlier.”
Leilius squinted through the night. He’d thought it was the wrong height for a cat, and certainly bigger than a rodent, but the mind played tricks when in the middle of a dangerous situation. He couldn’t trust just one sense.
He sighed and started along the wall, watching to make sure no one came out with torches and pitchforks, on a witch hunt for a murderer. He didn’t want to be the first thing they found.
“I thought I’d call into a couple of the inns before I went off to bed,” he said when he was far enough away. “This city is quiet. The guy at the inn said there are no Graygual here, and if he were wrong, the Graygual would be patrolling.”
“I agree. It looks like Xandre pulled his forces. He’s preparing for the last battle. We’ll need to get moving to catch up.”
6
“City is closed at sundown,” a man yelled down from the wall. He popped his face over for a moment, and then quickly pulled it back in.
Trying to push away her urgency, Shanti glanced behind her at those chosen to stay in the city. The rest of their large group, always growing due to the word spreading through the Wanderer’s Network, waited a little to the north, setting up a camp and tallying supplies.
The small crew with her now had ridden all day, helped set up the camp, before continuing here to meet with Leilius and Boas, who had sent a message that the way was clear.
“All seems quiet here, but you never can tell with Xandre,” she said to Cayan, who waited beside her with a hard face and upward-pointed gaze. She could feel the annoyance rolling through his body. “We might not have the time to wait.”
“Want me to climb the gate, grab that guy, and dangle him above the ground until he agrees to let us in?” Sanders asked. His hand braced on his leg and his arm muscles flared. Intense aggravation and impatience drifted from him.
“As opposed to just knocking him out and opening it yourself, you mean?” Rohnan asked.
“Yes, gorgeous. Hence my saying all that.”
“We mean the town no harm. We merely want supplies,” Cayan called up, his stare intense.
“I don’t make the rules. Come back at sun-up.” The man’s hand extended over the wall long enough to motion them away.
“What the hell is the difference between now and sun-up? Sunshine is unlikely to make this lot any merrier,” Sanders said loudly.
“Sanders,” Cayan said, shifting in his saddle. “Get us in.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Sanders swung a leg over his saddle and dropped to the ground. “Shanti, do they have arrows pointed at us?”
“The only defense for this gate is a single guard.” She let her Gift sink into the city, feeling the emotions and overall vibe. It was late, and most of the activity had slowed as people drifted to sleep, but she found areas of vigilance. Churning minds, sharp and alert, sparked in various areas. Two of those minds she knew. Leilius and Boas were making their rounds. The rest, though, didn’t speak of a peaceful life. She wondered if they’d present a threat of any kind. Perhaps some remaining Graygual were lying in wait, hiding their identities.
“Where are ya?” Sanders punched through the gate, knocking a board away, and stuck his foot in it.
“I’ve got a sword!” the gatekeeper yelled. An extended arm waved a blade over the wall.
“Well, look at that. We’re twins. Only, mine is bigger. Tough luck.” Sanders climbed the wall without difficulty, leaving room along the side in case the gatekeeper jabbed.
“I don’t know what you’re so worried about. We’re wearing blue, not black. We’re the good guys!” Sanders reached the top and leaned over. A smile spread across his face. “Hello.”
“No!” The sword prodded the empty space between the man and Sanders.
“Why would you be watching the gate if you can’t use a sword, I wonder. That sounds ridiculous.” Sanders kicked another board away from the wrought iron gate so he could get a firm hold with his feet before ripping out his sword. He bashed the gatekeeper’s sword, easily knocking it from the man’s hand. “If you had just opened the gate, this would’ve been so much easier.”
With one hand and sword still out, Sanders edged along until he could jump onto the platform behind the wall. “C’mere.”
“Commander Sanders,” Cayan barked. “Open the gate. There is no need to dangle him over it.”
“Hear that?” they heard from behind the wall. “You just got lucky. Sit over there. We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Who are you?” the man asked in a shaking voice.
“We’re the people who are going to rid this land of the Graygual, that’s who we are. And you need a new post, because you’re no good at this one.” A loud crank sounded and the gate shuddered into movement. It drifted open, revealing a large space beyond, with cleanly swept cobblestone and blazing torches to light their way.
“How long ago were the Graygual here?” Shanti asked as she kicked the Bloody Bastard. The blasted horse jerked his head down, yanking at her arms. He didn’t budge. “I will get down and walk, you filthy horse. Do you
want that? You’ll be the only horse without a rider. Everyone will laugh at you.”
“He can’t understand you.” Sonson laughed. They’d left the Shadow Lord and Portolmous in the camp to organize their fighters and keep all the groups complacent. While they were working together well, fights and skirmishes sprang up over the smallest of things. Esme was well used to dealing with it.
“Oh yes he can. This animal knows when I’m making threats. C’mon!” Shanti kicked the Bastard’s sides. She braced herself, expecting him to spring forward. Instead, he calmly walked, like a normal horse. It meant he was saving his attitude for another time, when she least expected it. “He is such an ornery bastard.”
“He does what you tell him, and you’re not happy. He does what you don’t tell him, and you’re not happy.” Sanders sniffed from the top of the wall where he waited with hands planted on his hips. “Just like a woman.”
“The only time he complies pleasantly is when he’s setting me up. If you weren’t such a blockheaded idiot, I wouldn’t have to constantly tell you that.” Shanti glanced along the quiet lane, where candle stands flickered a ways before the poles went dark. “As I was saying, how long since the Graygual were here?”
The man wiped his face with his hand. “Most of the Graygual left more than a week ago. Only a few were left behind.” His voice quivered.
“He fears us. He’s mistrustful. This isn’t the way to make friends,” Rohnan said softly.
“Shut the gate when everyone is through,” Cayan said. “Hand the man back his sword and stand him up.”
Shanti noticed a new siding on an old house, and various other renovations to make the city look nicer, confirming Leilius’ thoughts that those stationed here had been higher-level officers.
“Th-thank you, good sir.” The guard winched when Sanders handed him back his sword. He took it gingerly.
“Take the sword, man.” Sanders closed the man’s grip around the handle and flexed, grunting as he did so. He shook the man’s arm, in some sort of manly show, before releasing and then slapping the guard on the shoulder. “Hold your weapon with confidence. Now, we’re not going to hurt you, but you don’t belong in this post. Why are you here?”
“It’s not your job to fix the defenses of this city,” Punston, one of the Shadow men, said.
“That is a stupid thing to say. This man wouldn’t stop a trader. We could be sieged in the blink of an eye.” Sanders’ gaze hadn’t dislodged from the guard, who was trying to shrivel backward from it. “Well?”
“At first we tried to keep the Graygual out, but men lost their lives doing that. We couldn’t stand up to them. It made everyone afraid. After they left…” He shrugged. “I was the only one to volunteer.”
“What happened to the few Graygual who were left behind?” Cayan asked.
The man shrugged again, but his back straightened marginally. “I don’t know, sir.”
“Confidence surged through him after that question,” Rohnan said as he walked his horse to the far side of the lane, scanning. “He probably does know, at least in part, and is proud of the outcome.”
“Good for you.” Sanders clapped the man on the back. “Stand up for yourselves. Listen, if any Graygual come back, do you have an alarm?”
“I will feel them. Let’s go.” Cayan walked his horse down the street, prompting those around him to follow. Shanti remained where she was, looking at the strange boarding they put against the gate to make it harder to climb.
“All due respect, sir,” Sanders said, not leaving the wall, “you might not. Not if they have that scarred prisoner with them.” He stared after Cayan and received a backward glance and then a nod. Sanders turned back to the man, waiting for the answer.
“We have an alarm of sorts. But it won’t help.” The man’s chin waggled as he shook his head. “They always have a few Inkna with them. Even if we could keep them out, which we can’t, we can’t fight them.”
“Man that alarm. Trust me on that one. A loud one. As long as we’re in this city, you ring that alarm for your life. Then run like hell if you have to. Do what you gotta do, but you let the city know. Got it?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Shanti couldn’t see it, but she bet the man swallowed hard. Lesser men had a hard time saying no to the Westwood Lands army, whether they had any idea what they were agreeing to or not.
“Good man.” Sanders stepped up to the edge of the wall and surveyed what lay beyond. His gaze then scanned the top, running along it.
“Easily climbable,” Shanti said, knowing what he was looking for.
Sanders turned back. “For a few, yes. For an army, no. Not if we have any sort of warning.”
“With a few ladders they’d be over it in a heartbeat.” Shanti waited for Sanders to descend and get on his horse before directing the Bastard to walk with him. The horse complied easily again, which was not a good sign. She had no doubt that he was planning something.
She glanced behind her, making sure the select few of the Honor Guard made it through with their new charge. Xavier rode a little in front of Alexa, who had a straight face.
“So Xandre pulled his army after our recent victory.” Shanti let her words hover in the air as she sped the Bastard along, wanting to catch up with Cayan. “That doesn’t feel right.”
“He’s compiling his resources. Trying to prepare a solid front.” Sanders motioned to Cayan. “Does the captain know where we’re going?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Sander sniffed. “You can talk. Your whole life is a series of stupid questions.”
“I don’t like this,” Cayan said in a low voice as they moved closer, his eyes facing front but his power blanketing the city. “There is a void area. Do you feel it?”
Shanti focused on the one area of blackness in a sea of colorful minds. Nervousness churned in her stomach. “Yes,” she said.
“It could just be Burson. He was supposed to be in this city about now.”
“It might be, but we’ve been snuck up on before. I don’t want that happening again. I was thinking of dropping off the Bastard and going to check it out.”
“Not alone, you won’t.”
“Which was why I didn’t head out the moment we entered the city,” she replied dryly. “I didn’t want to hear you bitch.”
Cayan glanced her way, and she had no doubt his dimples showed themselves, if only for a moment. “Soon this will be over, and you’ll be forced to put on a dress and join the Women’s Circle. You’ll cook for me and do my washing, wait on me, and do everything I say, like a good little wife. Are you excited about your new life?”
Sanders barked out a laugh. “Sir, I do not envy you if that’s your desire. You’ll wake up right before the knife enters your throat.”
“He’s just being funny. He knows he’ll be the one doing all that.” Shanti snapped her head right, just in time to see a tail disappear behind a barrel. Cat. Even with that disturbance most likely being Burson, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Xandre’s movements had never been obvious, and he’d always been one step ahead of her. There was something in the works, she knew it, and when it struck, it would be right under her nose. “He’ll cost a fortune in fabric for the dresses, though. Silk slippers will have to be made specially.”
“You two have a strange version of foreplay.” Sanders glanced up at the rooftops. “I would like to have brought your cats. I got used to them prowling the night.”
“People would end up dead all over the city.” Shanti saw the sign of the inn they were looking for. A man waited in the doorway, his apron smeared orange, his arms crossed over his chest, and his face as hard as granite. “That must be Leilius’ favorite barman.”
“Speaking of Leilius, where is he?” Sanders jumped down from his horse.
Shanti did too, grabbing a tight hold of the Bastard’s reins. “Other side of the city, close to that void. He’s stationary, but that void is not. It’s heading
toward him. We need to get moving.”
“Too many,” the barman said, shaking his head slowly. “Not enough beds.”
“We’ll be sharing rooms.” Cayan let his mount’s lead dangle on the ground and stalked closer to the man. His horse, perfectly trained, stayed put.
“Still not enough rooms. I got three. Two with two beds, one with bigger bed.” The man’s eyes darted to each person, nine in all.
Cayan looked at Shanti. “Did the letter say if Leilius and Boas were sharing?”
Before she could shake her head, the man stepped forward, his stare finding her face. He braced himself in the door. “I did not know. Forgive me. The wife is right; I can be dense. Please. Come in. We’ll find rooms.”
“Finally she’s good for something.” Sanders patted his horse’s flank.
“We need to move, Cayan. Let Sanders sort this out,” Shanti said, monitoring the void.
“Sanders, get the animals organized.” Cayan stepped away from the man and into the middle of the lane. Someone shouted down the way before starting to sing loudly. “Have something to eat, but hold off on the baths. I’m not sure what we’ll find.”
Sanders hesitated in leading his horse around the side. “Should we all go, sir?”
“No. Not this time. We’ll send a message to those with the Gift before we engage.”
“If we can,” Shanti murmured.
“Let’s go, love.” Cayan motioned her to get moving. “Hand the reins to Sanders.”
Shanti locked eyes with Sanders for a moment. His gaze flicked to the Bastard. Then back.
A wicked grin curled Shanti’s lips. “Not man enough to do your job, Sanders?” She uncurled her fingers from the Bastard’s reins. “Or was that a dumb question?”
“That’s why you don’t insult women—they can be vindictive when they want to be,” Marc mumbled. He was waiting patiently beside the barn, clearly staying in cover so he wouldn’t be forced to go with Shanti.
That void moved ever closer to Leilius, slowly stalking. Her love of putting Sanders in a tight spot had to be cut short. She jogged backward, making sure the Bastard didn’t follow her. Still acting the “good horse,” he didn’t, watching her instead.