Path of Fire (Saga of The Wolf Book 3)

by Kris A Hiatt

  Finally, she came to the fourth floor. When she peeked around the corner to the right, she saw close to a dozen men in the hall, all wearing armor with beautifully polished breastplates and carrying spears. They stood at the ready.

  Jass pulled her head back and thought about her location. It seemed to her that the balcony was further to her left, not the right. She kept her back to the wall closest to the guards and looked as far to the left as she could without letting her head be seen by the guards. Nothing. Just an empty hallway.

  “Make those bastards pay!” she heard the same person from the balcony yell out.

  It came from the left, the way she was looking. She was sure of it.

  She pulled back again and leaned against the wall. What was she going to do? She doubted Liernin was with the archers and was instead inside the room being guarded by the men with spears, but Disdane wouldn’t make it to Liernin if those archers weren’t dealt with. She had an idea then. Did she see arrows in that storage room she passed near the barracks? She thought that she did.

  Jass retraced her steps back down the stairs, watching the fight at the opening closely as she ran down them. On she went, back to the storage room.

  Once there, she was glad to find a few baskets of arrows and a handful of bows. The arrows looked old, which probably explained why they were still there, and the strings on the remaining bows weren’t in the best of shape. She took the bow with the best string and as many arrows as she could carry.

  Jass raced back to the stairwell and ran up them as fast as she could, not even pausing to look at the fight at the opening. On she continued, back through the hallways and up the stairs until she reached where the men with spears stood guard. She stopped on the last stair.

  Jass took a deep breath and sprang up the last stair and headed to the left at a dead run.

  “Halt!” a strong voice ordered.

  Jass heard shuffling behind her. She came to a skidding stop and stiffened when she turned around. A single guard approached her, weapon at his side.

  “How are we doing out there?” the man asked as he neared.

  Jass nearly fell over in relief. She was lucky. “We’re holding them at the opening,” Jass said. “For now. But unless I get these arrows to the archers, we won’t for much longer.”

  “Go,” the man ordered, ushering her along. “And may Kaden guide your arrows.”

  Jass nodded and tried hard not to smile. She hoped Kaden would guide her arrows too, just not to the same targets that this man was envisioning. She moved down the hall, looking for the balcony. It wasn’t long before it came into view. There was a man standing in the archway, most likely the man that she had heard giving the orders, and several archers on the balcony. They were firing of their own volition and without orders from the man.

  The man in the archway noticed her then and looked her over.

  “There’s not much room in there, but you’re pretty small. Go,” he ordered, stepping aside and motioning toward the balcony. “Find a spot.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, offering a quick nod that she hoped he’d accept for a bow. Her game was nearly at its end, however, and she couldn’t wait to stop pretending to take orders.

  Once by him, Jass moved as far left as she could, pushing her way into the corner. “Make room,” she told the man, who absently moved to his right to give her space.

  Jass looked down the line, seeing mostly backs turned to her. There was only one female and the rest were men. One of those men was a left-handed shooter, though, and he would complicate things. Unlike the rest, his back wasn’t to her.

  She placed her arrows in the corner and plucked a single one from the group. She knocked it and looked back over her shoulder at the man in the doorway. She hadn’t fired a bow in a few years, but at that range, she knew she couldn’t miss.

  He was the easy target. Taking out the other ten would be difficult. She guessed she could get three or four more before the others caught on, but even then, close combat with six others wasn’t exactly great odds, even for her.

  The other woman was the fourth person in the line of archers, and Jass hoped she could use the woman to her advantage. Jass felt that she was fairly strong, but overpowering some of these larger men wasn’t something she wanted to try to do. She preferred the element of surprise and using her guile and womanly charms to achieve her goals.

  “Keep at it!” the man in the doorway shouted. “Make the bastards pay some more!” he gleefully added.

  Jass drew back, turned, and then fired at that man. Her arrow caught him dead center of his chest and he immediately fell to the floor.

  She put her bow down as quickly and quietly as she could, hoping no one saw her attack. The man closest to her turned his head at the sound of her bowstring so close behind him, but the man never saw anything after that. Her dagger had found his throat.

  Jass pushed him aside and stepped past him, driving her dagger deep into the neck of the next man in line. Before that body began to crumple she was on to the next, pumping her arm furiously into the side of the next archer, just under his armpit.

  The left-handed archer looked her way then, but didn’t seem to realize exactly what was happening. He looked at her in pure confusion. Jass shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the female archer, pushing the woman as hard as she could into the man and the other archers in line. Jass didn’t stop pumping her legs until she nearly tripped over one man who had fallen under the weight of those being pushed over.

  Jass stabbed away with her dagger, aiming for throats or other vital spots where she could, and settling for anything she could see moving if she couldn’t. She had to kneel to finish off more than one of the men, and when she stood up, she found only three men remaining.

  The last one in line had managed to keep his feet and was in the process of drawing back his bow.

  Jass dove for the archway leading back into the hallway and heard an arrow ricochet off of the wall where she had just been standing. She scrambled to her feet, placing her back to the wall near the opening.

  One of the three men came through that opening and was greeted by her dagger in his chest. Jass stepped in front of the man, holding him in front of her and quickly moved back onto the balcony, using the man as a shield. He began to fall backwards then and Jass had to either let go or be carried to the floor with him.

  She chose to let go and took an arrow into her side for doing so. She ignored the pain and leapt atop the man that had just shot her from a few feet away. She stabbed with reckless abandon and flung the body to the ground moments later.

  When she looked up to set her sights on the lone remaining man, her head was rocked to the side and her vision swam. Not only could she feel the bow staff connect with her head, she heard it as well. The resounding thud was worse than the pain.

  Jass put up her left arm in an attempt to protect her head from another strike and accepted a painful whack to her forearm. She grimaced though the pain and sprang to her feet, driving her body into her opponent. Once her forward momentum had stopped, she reached down and grabbed the man by the leg and lifted up with all of her strength. With a final shove forward, the man toppled over the railing and fell to the ground below.

  Jass slumped to the balcony floor and took several deep breaths. The pain in her side was considerable. It was then that she realized the arrow was still protruding from her body. It was a few inches above her right hip and had just caught her. Had it been a few inches to the right, it would have missed her completely. The arrow had gone in all the way and only the fletching was visible from the front. She turned to that side, trying to see behind her. It hurt like hell to do so, but she didn’t see any part of the arrow behind her. It must have broken off during the fight.

  She ignored the pain and stood up. She looked over her handiwork and, despite being wounded, was pleased with the outcome. She blew a kiss to the dead bodies and looked out over the courtyard and to the opening Disdane’s men were fighting in. Beyond the
m, Jass noticed that more of Liernin’s forces had joined the fight and were pressing Disdane hard from the back.

  After gathering a bow and what unbroken arrows remained, Jass began to fire arrow after arrow into the backs of Liernin’s men. She missed several shots at first, but once she got the range down, she hit more often than she missed. She wasn’t surprised to see she had taken down both of the men that had escorted her into the courtyard. The pain in her side intensified with each shot.

  She began to hum her tune, both as a way to ignore the pain and because she enjoyed what she was doing. Her bowstring hummed along with her, shot after shot, softening Liernin’s forces so Disdane and his men could get out of the squeeze they were in and advance on the palace.

  It wasn’t long before Disdane burst through the softened line and out of the narrow opening, finally giving him room to swing his massive sword freely. That weapon went to and fro, sending enemies flying in every direction. Once Disdane and his men were through, he looked up and offered her a deferential nod.

  Chapter 29

  Treace led the group past both the western gate and the priory. Long before making it to the northern gate he knew that the stable boy was telling the truth. The road between the two gates was not a straight one. There were many twists and turns so his line of sight was restricted. He couldn’t see the gate itself yet, but every so often he caught glimpses of the wall and, more importantly, the platform above it. There were no soldiers on that platform. Treace should have seen some archers at the very least.

  “If they’ve made it through, they’re headed for Liernin,” Raythien reasoned, looking in the same direction as Treace was.

  Treace ordered five men to scout the gate and then lock it if it wasn’t already, which he doubted. Then he turned to the rest of his men. “They’re trying to go for the baron. We can’t let that happen.”

  “You heard the man,” Raythien barked. “To our baron!”

  The men jogged off, Raythien leading them.

  “Treace,” Kiril said with a trembling voice. “My father is with the baron.”

  Treace hadn’t thought of that. He was too focused on saving Liernin. Now that Kiril mentioned her father, Treace was reminded that not only was Kint with Liernin, but so was Liernin’s wife, Amana, and their son, Liern. Kint had his magic to help protect him, but Amana and Liern would be easy prey for any soldier. Treace hoped it wouldn’t come to that. There were many men guarding the baron, and they were some of the best fighters Liernin had to offer. “And we’ll make sure nothing happens to him,” Treace replied, hoping that he sounded confident.

  Kiril gave him a brief smile. Treace didn’t think she was comforted much by his words. He took her smile more as a simple thanks for him trying.

  “We won’t let anything happen to him, or Liernin,” Heral said confidently. “I’ll burn anyone that goes near them.”

  Treace was glad to see some fight left in his friend. Earlier, the soft-hearted Heral had been visibly shaken by the devastating effect of his own magic. He had said that he hated himself for what he’d done, but now that he had realized that Kint was possibly in danger, Heral had turned that hate toward his enemies rather than himself. At least that’s what Treace thought he’d done. It made sense. Heral held Kint in very high regard and the two had gotten along quite well, forming a certain bond that only the two of them had shared.

  “We won’t do anything from here,” Kiril said, urging them to join the rest of the group who had already moved a good distance away.

  Fresh sounds of battle rang in Treace’s ear. It was faint, but it was there. Steel rang off of steel and he was fairly certain that he heard someone yell out for the others to make the bastards pay. It sounded an awful lot like Captain Snell to Treace. The old veteran had come out of retirement to command the small group of archers that were assigned to the palace.

  Heral and Kiril must have heard it too because they looked around as if trying to locate the source of the sound. The three exchanged glances and sprinted off to catch up to the group.

  “They’re at the palace!” Treace informed Raythien as he sprinted by. Then he called out to his men, “Move faster!”

  Treace ran on and the rest of the group did their best to match his pace.

  Treace rounded a corner and skidded to a stop a short time later, the baron’s palace in full view at the end of the street. A horde of Shamir’s men were assaulting from the front, but appeared to be held in check at the narrow opening leading to the courtyard. At least for the time being. Disdane was there. He was hard to miss, even from this great distance. The man was at least a head taller than everyone else and his massive frame took up the space of two men.

  Treace thought about falling into The Calm and burning Disdane alive, but the warrior within him protested that idea. That part of him wanted a rematch, to fight Disdane with his swords rather than using his magic. It was silly, he knew, but he couldn’t help but to feel that way. Whether it was simple pride or not, he wasn’t sure.

  “It’s getting harder,” Kiril said a moment later. “It won’t work.”

  “What won’t?” Treace asked, taking his eyes from the scene for the first time to look at Kiril.

  “Burning him,” Kiril explained. “I can’t even find The Calm.”

  He didn’t even notice that she’d fallen into The Calm to try. She had the same initial idea as Treace did, but she obviously didn’t have the same compulsion to face Disdane in melee combat.

  Heral closed his eyes then. He opened them a short time later shaking his head. “I can find The Calm, with difficulty, but I just can’t bring forth the magic,” Heral explained. “It’s as if I used up too much of it earlier.”

  “I’m surprised you kept it up for as long as you did,” Griffeth remarked with admiration clear in her voice.

  “Me too,” Treace replied, looking back at the eager faces of his men that were in lines behind Raythien. “But now’s not the time to discuss magic. We need to get in there and make sure Liernin’s safe.”

  “And if he’s not?” one soldier asked. “What if they get to him before we do?”

  Treace looked at the faces of his men. Some were steadfast, others wore a look of uncertainty on their faces. He had to reassure them. “If they do make it to Liernin before we do, they think we’ll simply give up. That’s just not true. No one respects Liernin more than I do, and I do truly hope we can make it to him in time, but if we don’t,” Treace said, pausing to digest his own words. He never really considered losing Liernin before. He thought his own life would be forfeit long before Liernin came to harm. It didn’t sit well with him. “We fight on. We drive those responsible from this city. We don’t stop fighting until either they’ve surrendered, or we draw our last breath.”

  Treace hoped his words were more uplifting than they were damning. He wasn’t used to giving speeches and often kept his words to himself. Having to do so was a drastic change for him and he was never sure of whether what he said was helpful or not. He looked the men over once again. Their faces were grim, but determined. The uncertainty that he had seen before seemed to be gone. He hoped it would stay that way.

  “What are we waiting for?” Heral asked.

  “Nothing,” Treace replied. He turned to the men then. “When we get there, remember your training. Drive hard into the center of their formation and break them apart. You need to stay with the group and protect each other the whole while. I have faith in you. All of you. We can do this!”

  “You heard the man,” Raythien called out. “Time to get those rodents out of our city!”

  The men nodded and cheered. Treace raised his swords and then pointed them in the direction of the ongoing battle at Liernin’s palace. The cheers turned to a roar and the men ran off to engage the enemy.

  Treace kissed Kiril on the cheek and took her hand, leading her toward the battle.

  He breathed a slight sigh of relief moments later when he realized that Liernin’s men had somehow managed to k
eep Disdane’s men at bay and hadn’t allowed them to break into the palace. Liernin was most likely safe. Treace hoped it would stay that way long enough for him to face Disdane and hopefully end this.

  “I’m going for him,” Treace announced loudly when they reached the rear lines of opposition. He knew he didn’t need to explain who he was going for. It was clear that he meant Disdane.

  Kiril held his hand firmly and gave him a hesitant look, but relented moments later and offered a nod before letting him go.

  Treace’s men announced their final approach with screams that were mixed with both terror and excitement. The rushing force collided hard with the stationary wall that was Disdane’s men.

  Shields crashed into men, swords were flung wildly, and arrows were fired from merely feet away. Initially, they made a good push into the ranks of their opposition, but their momentum was quickly stalled and it wasn’t long before Treace’s advance was brought to a complete halt.

  Treace had meant to be the tip of the spear, the center point of the assault, but a few of his men had stepped in front of him at the last minute and had used their bodies to crash into the shields of Disdane’s men. Of the three that stepped in front of him, only two remained. One had launched himself toward a shield, but met the tip of a sword instead. The man crumpled to the ground.

  “Push on!” Treace yelled out, stepping over the fallen man. “Break through!”

  He pushed ahead, splitting the two remaining men that went before him and narrowly avoided a sword that was aimed for his stomach. He didn’t have much room to maneuver, but had just enough to slash straight down with his right sword, cutting deep into the flesh and bone of the attacker’s forearm.

  That arm retreated quickly, or attempted to, but someone behind Treace had grabbed at that arm and began to pull the man through the line.

  Treace didn’t hesitate. He slid into the narrow spot that was just vacated and began stabbing into the flanks of Disdane’s men. He didn’t have much room to operate, but his thrusts were effective.