With the four of them, they decided that only two would take watch at night allowing the other two a full night's rest. Then the pairs would switch the following night, ensuring no one went without sleep for too long.
Nicolette sat against a nearby tree where she was well hidden and could see the campsite in full. Since they did not have a fire going, all the light she had was from the bright moon and the radiant stars shining off the water and through the canopy of trees around them.
Normally, she would have been terrified, being alone in the dark like this, but now there was a certain calm about it. She almost felt at peace, like the darkness understood her feelings. She had changed so much - had become stronger, not only physically, but mentally and spiritually as well.
"I know you are out there, Meath, somewhere close," she whispered to the night. "I will find you, and it will be me who saves you this time, I promise."
Nicolette glanced up at the moon and noticed her time on watch was up. She gathered herself up; thankful she would soon be fast asleep and listening to the sound of the flowing river, when movement caught her attention. She froze where she was and scanned the tree line for what had caught her attention - her heart nearly froze in her chest when she noticed several looming shadows creeping toward their camp from the north. At first, she thought to cry out a warning to the others, but stopped when doubt entered her mind. Maybe they were just lost travelers looking for help. She grabbed her bow, notched an arrow and waited to see. If they were barbarians, they would have charged in for the kill already.
The sound of a blade clearing its scabbard finally made up her mind. She pulled her arrow back and let loose, the darkness impeded her aim and her arrow sank deep into the front man's leg. He howled in unexpected pain and crashed to the ground.
Within moments, Zehava and Shania had climbed out of the makeshift tent, weapons drawn and senses alert. Two dark figures melted from the gloom and charged them - one wielded a single-bladed battle-axe and the other a short sword.
Zehava met the axe wielder, knowing the best defense against an axe was not to let the opponent have the room to use it. Zehava had hoped for a quick end, but the man was a lot quicker than Zehava could have ever anticipated. He moved his sword up high to deflect a head chop that would have surely cut him nearly in two. His arms burned from the block, but he wasted no time thinking about it. He kicked the axe wielder hard in the knee, bringing him down and forward - the hilt of his sword smashing into the bridge of the man's nose. It flattened it to his face, causing him to teeter back several steps. But the axe man hardly slowed - had it not been for the moon's reflection off the axe blade, Zehava would never have seen the attack that almost took his head from his shoulders.
Shania danced her blades off the big man's sword, trying to keep him at bay until she could land a mortal blow. The man swung feverishly at all angles with such force that most of the time it took both of her blades, and all of her strength, to block them. Her shoulders and wrists ached already from the repeated blocks of her attacker and she had almost lost hold of both of her weapons.
Nicolette aimed her bow, trying to find a clear target and help her friends. Finally, she let loose again, striking a man who had stopped to help the first man, letting him feel the sting of her arrows. The barbed shaft sank deep into his back, dropping him to his knees, as he tried to grab at the arrow shaft to pull it out.
Dahak watched the shadowy silhouette stalk past, the tent blade in hand. Fear knotted his insides at the sound of fighting outside, but he knew his friends needed him. Dahak lunged out of the tent, his sword leading the way - he felt the tip sink into flesh. He stood up to see his sword embedded nearly to the hilt in a stubby man's belly. The man's eyes were wide with the unpredicted pain that had found him. Dahak tore his sword out and felt a light spray of blood across his arms. The man fell to his knees, dropping his own blade, his jaw quivering in panic as he tried to stem the flow of gore slopping out of his wound. Dahak's knee connected hard with the man's face, as more men spilled into the camp.
Nicolette took aim again at one of the new men running into their camp to join the fray. She knew she was not delivering mortal blows, but if she injured them it would slow them. She fired and missed and went to reload when she saw someone to the side of her. Pain lanced through her as a spear sailed by her, cutting deeply into her side and knocking her off balance. She tried to correct her footing but her foot caught on something in the dark and she fell back. Her head cracked against a flat rock. Pain erupted through her skull, blurring her vision and making her want to retch. She tried to gather her wits and push herself back up, knowing the enemy was coming in for the kill.
The axe came down again. Zehava's sword was there to block it once more. His limbs were crying out in agony after each powerful blow stopped. He cursed when he saw more men enter their camp. He pushed his attacker back, slashed for the chest and was blocked. He knew his opponent was a veteran fighter and had more years of experience, but desperation finally kicked in. He pulled his sword back and attacked high again, swinging in for an overhead chop, giving his opponent plenty of time to see it, what he did not see was one of Zehava's hands pulling a dagger. Once his sword hit the handle of the axe, his arm shot his dagger forward, finding his attacker's heart through his hardened leather armor.
Shania heard Nicolette's scream - fury enraged her as she took the offensive, slashing her blades wildly, driving the man back. She spotted Dahak at the side coming to help her, her smile widening when her attacker turned his head to regard Dahak. That was all the opening she required, she brought one blade ripping to the side, knowing it would be blocked, her other blade coming in from above. Her opponent's instinct had forced him to turn toward the new threat, leaving him exposed. Her curved blade sank into the side of his neck and across his jugular, releasing a crimson spray as he crumpled in defeat. Shania took off toward the figure stalking toward the area where she had heard Nicolette.
Pushing past the nausea and pain, Nicolette forced herself to stand - knowing on the ground she was as good as dead. She tried to draw her sword but a meaty hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Both of her hands reached up to wretch the hand away from her mouth so she could cry out for help, but she did not have the strength to pull the powerful hand away. Desperate, she swung her hand down and connected with the man's groin. His grip loosened and she pulled herself away and turned back to face him but, before she could draw her sword, his fist slammed into the side of her face, sending her sprawling to the ground.
Shania was upon Nicolette's attacker before he could take a step forward to finish his job. A quick under sweep of one her deadly blades caught him across the back of the knees, and her other blade opened a long wound across his back. He cursed out as he stumbled and turned to meet his attacker, but all he glimpsed was a fading silhouette into the darkness of the jungle. He turned back to face Nicolette just as Shania's twin blade sank deep into his side passing through flesh, bone and lung. He tried to cry out, but only thick blood escaped his lips as darkness became absolute.
"You all right?" Shania asked Nicolette, helping her to her feet. When Nicolette nodded that she was fine, Shania pulled her along with her back toward the others.
Zehava and Dahak fought, furiously trying to push their attackers back while Shania and Nicolette got behind them. They had landed a few minor hits that had slowed their enemy's attacks, but had also taken many wounds and were losing momentum fast.
"We cannot hold them for much longer!" Zehava yelled back, parrying a thrust for his torso.
"We have to run, but where!" Shania yelled back to him, looking for an exit, but by now, there were several men stalking in from all directions.
"You are not going to get away from us!" one of the brutes yelled.
"The river is our only hope," Zehava cried out, as a wild swing he had not seen opened up a gash across his arm and shoulder.
To try to swim the Sheeva River during the day in dry season was foolish a
nd deadly, but to try to swim the rapid flowing river during the night at the beginning of the rainy season was suicidal and they knew it. But they had little choice - if they did not, they would die here and now.
Zehava parried a vicious blow and quickly reversed his sword, the tip of his blade ripping into his attacker's forearm, forcing him to drop his sword and back away. A dagger sliced past Zehava and sunk into the abdomen of the next in line. He knew Shania had thrown the blade.
"Run!" Dahak bellowed out, grabbing Zehava as they darted into the river, ignoring the painful sensation of cold water nipping their wounded flesh.
"You cannot get away that easy - we will find you!"
Morning came and the group found themselves across the river, several miles downstream, washed up on shore. Zehava pushed himself up and looked around to see that everyone was there and alive, barely. He knew they had to get moving or they would be found, and from the looks of everyone, they would not survive another encounter.
"Come on, we have to get moving," Zehava urged.
"What, where are we?" Dahak moaned, rolling himself over and flinching at the brightness of the sun assaulting his eyes.
"Downstream a few miles, we must have passed out in the river and the current pushed us ashore," Zehava replied, looking around and trying to find the best route to take.
"Are you okay?" Shania asked, helping Nicolette to her feet.
"I think so," Nicolette groaned. She was a little shaky on her feet. "My face hurts," she said, bringing her hand up to where she had taken the punch. Her cheek and right eye were swollen and bruised.
"We can tend to our injuries later. We have to get out of here before they find us," Zehava said, limping into the jungle.
They trudged along until the early afternoon. Travel was horribly slow - there was no trail or path to follow, just jungle to maneuver through and around. Finally, they stopped, knowing they needed to tend to their injuries and rest their weary battered bodies.
Zehava and Dahak bit down on straps of leather while Shania cleaned, stitched and dressed their worst lacerations. Afterward, she wrapped Nicolette's gash across her side but there was nothing she could do for the bruises and swelling on her face. Shania's own wounds were minor and needed no attention.
"Who were they?" Dahak asked, resting up against a tree. "At first I thought they had to be barbarians since they attacked in the dead of night but that was not the case."
"The guards from the city, out for one last attempt to resolve their pride, maybe?" Nicolette winced, her hand clutching her injured side.
"Remember the guys in the bar that the bartender was talking to who kept glancing our way? My guess is they were highwaymen, and the bartender informs them of who has worthwhile coin to go after," Zehava replied, his eyes closed as he tried to match their faces with the small glimpses he had gotten the night before.
"What is that over there?" Shania interrupted.
"What is what?" Dahak groaned, hoping it was good news.
"It looks like an old campsite." Shania called back. "Not one a barbarian would make, either." She called back to them as she investigated, "Tracks show three people."
18
Ursa entered the lavish study - the bright, exotic décor had been a gift from Jewel for her husband years ago, since he had to spend so much time in there. His old study had been dim and dreary with little furniture to fill and accommodate the large room and the many visitors who occupied it on a regular basis. He had been summoned by Lady Jewel and he watched her from the doorway, he was sure she was asleep, her head rested in her folded arms on top of the smooth cedar engraved desk, the rise and fall of her body was slow. He almost thought of leaving her to sleep and to find some himself, but knew important matters needed to be discussed and sleep would need to wait for the both of them.
"You summoned, my Lady?" Ursa asked, making his way to where she rested.
Jewel's head jerked up, a look of confusion flashing across her face, but soon disappeared. "Excuse me, Ursa. I must have fallen asleep - forgive me."
Ursa smiled. "No need for forgiveness - we are all tired and would jump at the opportunity to find a few moments of rest."
"How is it looking out there?" Jewel asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Ursa let out a large sigh filled with frustration and mixed with exhaustion as he sat down on the chesterfield in front of the desk. "We have turned them back once more but I fear we are being played."
The last two days they had been at nearly constant war with the enemy. The barbarians outnumbered them greatly and more tribes swelled the enemy ranks daily, making it impossible to get a tally on their true numbers. Ursa knew Dragon's Cove was too well fortified and the men defending it still too alert for concern of the enemy trying to overrun them in a full on attack, and it seemed the enemy knew this as well. The attacks that came were small contingences of a thousand warriors or so that were heavily armored with thick leather and bone gear and large wooden shields. They came in fast and for blood. Once the battle was engaged in full, they would sound a retreat and another such wave would replace them, giving the defenders little time to rest.
"What do you mean?" Lady Jewel asked, unease darkening her already gaunt features.
"They are clearly trying to wear us down - keeping us on constant alert with little to no time to rest. They are hoping to run our arrows low - which is why they are sending in fully armored warriors."
"Surely they have to know we will realize this," Jewel scoffed.
"I am sure they do, but exhausted, desperate men make bad decisions after a while."
"I will be sure to inform the Generals and Captains to keep an eye on our archers so we are not feeding their shields pointlessly." Jewel made a note of it so she would not forget. "What is it? There is something more you wish to tell me, I can tell by that look."
Ursa nodded in defeat at her ability to read him so easily. "I cannot be certain, but I fear I spotted a Priestess among their ranks this last assault. She did not help in the attack - I believe she was there to merely observe us, to find our styles and our weaknesses. If I am correct, we will be seeing more of them in the coming battles and I doubt they will be there just to observe next time."
"That is truly grave news," Jewel replied, almost in a whisper. "It has been a long time since their Gifted has believed enough in the cause to come out of their holes and join the fighting." She looked hard at Ursa, her eyes betraying all of her fears. "Tell me honestly, Ursa - do we stand a chance of surviving this?"
"This battle is still young and far from over, my Lady," Ursa told her, his voice full of conviction. "Talena told me as long as we made it here before the enemy did that we would save many lives."
"So we will hold the castle?" Jewel asked eagerly.
Ursa frowned with uncertainty. "I cannot say that for sure - visions can play out in so many ways. All I know is what Talena has told me."
"Will she not tell you if you ask her?"
"If she tells me too much, it may alter events that are required to happen if we are to defeat the false prince."
"How can you be so sure she can be trusted?" Jewel questioned. "How do you know for sure she is not working to her own advantage somehow?"
Ursa sighed. "In truth, I do not know for sure. Such thoughts have crossed my mind already, but my instinct tells me to trust her and so that is all I have to go by."
Jewel nodded solemnly. "I trust your instincts - they have been right far more than they have ever been wrong. How is she doing now?"
"Her voice is coming back remarkably quickly - I believe it has to do with that staff of hers. It is a very powerful weapon - more powerful than we can even begin to know. I am sure as she gains more experience with her own powers and those of the staff, we will begin to see just how extraordinary that staff truly is."
"Until it is in the hands of the Shyroni," Jewel commented.
Ursa grimaced then sighed. "Let us worry about one thing at a time." He stood from his s
eat, his body protesting the effort. "You should sleep, my Lady - you will need your strength and your wits about you."
"I shall, but promise me you, too, will find rest - your wits may very well save us all."
Ursa entered his room with full intentions of going straight to sleep - he was exhausted in every sense of the word and knew that without rest he would begin to become a liability on the battlements. He and the other Wizards had been nearly overusing their Gifts, not only against the enemy, but also healing the many seriously wounded. He slumped down in his desk chair - if the Priests and Priestesses had joined in the fighting again, things were going to take a turn for the worse. He eyed the small leather pouch on his desk. His hand even began to reach for it but he quickly turned his attention to his bed.
He tossed and turned - his mind alive with a swirl of overwhelming thoughts and feelings. He racked his mind for ways they could better defend the castle against the hordes surrounding them, and what they might do when the inevitable happens and enemy Gifted joined the battle. Then, there was Meath, who took him and why? Was he still alive or was he dead by now? He cursed himself for not bringing Meath with him when he left for Solmis' Haven. Had he just done that, Meath would still be safe and Nicolette and the others would still be behind these walls.
Ursa pulled himself out of bed knowing sleep was futile, his mind would not let him rest. He eyed the leather pouch again and groaned. "I did not want to have to use this again." He opened the small pouch, poured a slight amount of the powdered yellow and green herb into a cup, added water, and let the herbs release their toxicity into the water for a moment before drinking the bitter liquid down in a single swallow. Within moments, he could feel his Gift coursing through him - his senses tingled awake and alert as if he had slept for a while.
The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1) Page 43