Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles, 1)

by K. F. Breene

  Mark pouted. “The doctor said that the next time you follow us and jump out to yell ‘boo’ he’ll no longer train me. Since that is always your punishment, because you know the doctor hates surprises, I figure I should stop messing up.”

  “Too bad. I love scaring you two. Fair enough. Rachie, you are doing well. You can follow the group of your choice. My team will follow the other. Yes?”

  “Yes, s’am.”

  “Good. Off you go. And hurry, Sterling is moving fast this time.”

  They all looked at Xavier, who looked at Lucius. Who looked at the Captain. Who nodded.

  As all the boys took off, Cayan fell in beside Shanti. “Sam?”

  “Do you not realize how much longer that chain of command takes?” she asked, noticing Lucius falling in behind them.

  “If I were giving the orders, there would be no reason to check in,” the Captain said with a pompous air.

  “But you’re not giving the orders.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Shanti pushed down the irrational urge to punch him in the throat. “S’am is a mix between sir and ma’am. It was the only title Leilius could get right more than once.”

  “How often does Commander Sterling try to find you?”

  “Nearly every day. I used to change the times we met to keep him away, but it turned into a sort of game, and it is great practice, so I changed the times of our practice to his idle times.”

  “Has he ever found you?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Has he asked to watch your training outright?”

  Shanti snickered. “Nope. He took it upon himself to snoop. Then he realized we were on to him, so he did it to prove a point, I think. He was exuding determination for a solid week. Now I think he is playing the same game. He wants to best us. We want to keep besting him. A merry chase it has become.”

  “He doesn’t mean you harm?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He is intrigued, is my best guess. And like I said, now it’s a game.”

  “Commander Sterling doesn’t play games.”

  Shanti shot him a sideward glance. “Maybe you just don’t know the ones that turn him on.”

  “Is he the one that turned you down, then?” His tone was light, but the air got heavy. Shanti could tell Cayan was trying to hold his power at bay. He wanted to reach out and find out for himself, since he was a nosey bastard, but it seemed he also wanted to start controlling his Gift. Restraint was a very good thing with him.

  “No, but thanks for reminding me about that. I hate having unanswered questions.”

  The sound was not quite a growl, but it was close. It seemed the Captain hated mysteries. Men were incredible gossips!

  They met up with the boys again. Shanti congratulated them on doing better, then put them to work. Knife throwing was first. It was a handy skill to have no matter the overall discipline. If a baker needed to escape in a hurry, and saw someone coming through the door, throw the knife and run. It was an easy item to carry on one’s person; you didn’t have to be close to use it effectively, and one throw could kill with a small amount of exertion. The boys worked hard at it, and Shanti helped them in each stage of their training. Only Xavier and Gracas were able to hit revolving and rotating targets effectively, but the rest were definitely coming along.

  Next was archery. Rachie was excused, as was Leilius. They were crap. There was no point in wasting anybody’s time. Instead, those two worked on creating traps that could be left behind on a trail, intended to ensnare their victim, or simply kill or chop something off. Lucius and the Captain were extremely interested in that discipline.

  “Your people did this often?” Cayan asked, memorizing the construction of one particularly gruesome contraption.

  “Not often, no. I have, though. I have been hunted for the past year. Leaving these in my wake has…well, I’m still alive, so…”

  “They work.”

  “Very well.”

  Cayan straightened up and put his hands on his hips, analyzing her. “But anyone could fall victim. Civilians.”

  “Yes, which is why you only leave it when your life depends on it. Okay, boys, take it down.”

  His mind brushed hers again. “You’ve had some close calls.”

  “Very.” Shanti turned away from those probing eyes.

  “All right—“ What she recognized as Sterling’s brain pattern was winding closer. They were taking too long. They had about half an hour before he would find them. Bloody good tracker.

  “Time for your disciplines. Let’s push ourselves this time. Rachie, you are fighting with Lucius. No weapons. Give him hell. Leilius, I want you to see how close you can get to Sterling before he recognizes you. If he spots you, throw the fake knife and run like hell. If he chases you… well, I guess you’ll see how fast you are because you’ll surely get in trouble. Marc, watch Lucius like a hawk. He is one of us now. If he pushes too hard or gets hurt in any way, you are responsible—I can run very fast, so attempted escape will not help. Gracas, grab the real sword. You are with me. Xavier, try your size against the Captain. I have a feeling he’ll wipe that stupid smile off your face. Or he’ll make that face less handsome, and Miss Baker’s daughter won’t like you anymore.”

  The other boys chortled with laughter. Red filled Xavier’s cheeks.

  “All right, get gone.”

  Shanti took a moment to watch as Xavier walked up to the Captain very slowly, analyzing. Trying to figure out the way the Captain’s body worked. Trying to work out the best method of attack. He didn’t get long. Cayan was experienced, and battle didn’t allow slow, analytical thought. He lunged, movement so fast it was almost blurry. Xavier parried and retreated immediately, backpedaling in surprise.

  Cayan slowed down for the younger man, picking a pace faster and more aggressive than Xavier was used to, but within his reach. Xavier saw this, blew out a breath that probably emptied his ego balloon, and got to work.

  Well done, Captain.

  Shanti connected with Lucius’ mind, not trusting the medic-in-training to recognize the warning signs. She felt the spicy touch of Cayan doing the same thing. The bugger learned way too fast. But maybe that was a good thing now?

  She still wasn’t sure.

  All of a sudden, a blur of metal whisked by her face. Gracas had turned on. The kid was like a switch. On or off, no warm up, no half way. He barely knew how his body worked, but the small control he did have was thrilling. Someday he might surpass Shanti with his skill in weaponry.

  Someday.

  The clang of metal rang through the clearing as Shanti’s sword rushed into the fray. Shanti couldn’t help a smile as they got to work.

  Twenty minutes and a solid sweat in, Shanti was on the attack, attempting to teach Gracas never to retreat straight back. That he should angle to one side or the other, trying to figure out how to turn a retreat into an attack. He was learning, but slowly. He’d fallen over every rock and stump in the clearing.

  As they fought, Shanti and Cayan paid attention to each other so they didn’t direct their fighters into one another. Suddenly Marc yelled, “Enough!”

  In a flash of an eye she had disarmed Gracas and was at Lucius’ side, evaluating.

  “I’m fine for now,” Lucius said, breathing fast but not overly taxed. Shanti would have let him go a little longer.

  Cayan had thrown Xavier across the clearing and was walking over with a stern expression. He looked at Marc. “Report.”

  The color drained out of Marc’s face. His body bowed and his face tilted toward the ground. Scrubbing at his nail, he muttered, “He is fine for now, yes, but his state has been weakening exponentially. He would injure himself before realizing he’d passed the line. It’s wise to stop him now, or at least dramatically slow his exertion.”

  Shanti shook her head. “Too many unknown words.”

  Marc peeked up from under his lashes. “It’s like eating fast when really hungry. You eat too fast for your stomach to proce
ss how full it is. Before you know it you are too full and feel sick. If you get nearly full, then slow way down, you’ll stop just as you hit the full line.”

  “Ah.”

  Cayan raised his eyebrows at Marc.

  “She understands food analogies best,” Marc explained.

  “Well,” Shanti said, taking stock of Sterling. He was now heading toward the west, which would not intersect with their practice. “Sterling—“

  “Commander Sterling,” Cayan interjected with a warning in his voice.

  Shanti turned her face to the Captain, met his stern gaze, and then turned back. “Sterling is either chasing Leilius, or taking him to a whipping post. We are good to stop for today. Thank the Captain for beating the stuffing out of Xavier.”

  Everyone clapped.

  “Give a nod to Marc, who actually gave an order based on his profession, to a superior officer, in front of the superior officer, and still had enough fornicas to insist.”

  Nods all around.

  “Hoenista.”

  Everyone did a slight bow and started wandering back toward the inner city. Except Cayan. He stood where he was, watching Shanti. Lucius, unsure, waited with him.

  Shanti, finished talking with Gracas about ways to practice, noticed the scrutiny, and furrowed her brow. “What?”

  Cayan waited for everyone to disappear before saying, “I need a favor.”

  Chapter 27

  The dungeon smelled like urine and fecal matter. Sanders stood against the wall, trying not to inhale through his nose, eyeing the two recently captured prisoners occupying the cells. The large, dumb, lumbering Mugdock paced and swore, threatening the guards with pain and retribution, banging at the bars and kicking at the ground. The other, a foreigner, sat peacefully, watching his surroundings with calculating eyes.

  It was the foreigner who gave Sanders pause. The slight man sat as peacefully as could be, not at all worried about possible torture. Almost as if he had the upper hand.

  Delusion, that was. If left up to the prison guards, the torture would’ve started, asking questions of the stranger’s involvement in this land. None of Sanders’ men liked anomalies in general, and certainly not anomalies in league with their sworn enemy.

  Speaking of the sworn enemy, that filthy Mugdock was the reason for the incredible stink. It was like a farm animal that stayed out of the rain. It almost singed the nostrils it was so potent.

  Did they not have the ability to smell? How could they stand themselves?

  The Mugdock would’ve been tortured for a different reason—for revenge of comrades lost, of ancestors stolen, and material goods destroyed. Pretty simple, but the two Peoples had a long history.

  Sanders, of course, would just as soon kill them both and be done with it. He didn’t have the stomach for torture. Nor the patience, if he was being honest. A clean, fast death was the way to go. It’s what he’d want for himself, and what he would give to someone else.

  Wasn’t his show, though. He was just the grunt. And, unfortunately, in charge of the prison. And that was only because the men listened to him where they wouldn’t Sterling or Daniels. The Captain didn’t want these prisoners roughed up just yet, and Sanders was the man keeping everyone at bay.

  Sometimes he hated being good at his job. Especially when it smelled this bad.

  As if hearing the thought, the Captain walked in, an eraser wiping all Sanders’ thoughts from his head. Shanti stood right behind his boss, Lucius in tow. All the men already standing around the prison backed against the wall, giving ample room for the leader of the city.

  “Have they told you anything?” the Captain asked in that low, gravely rumble that could loosen a man’s bowels.

  Sanders shook his head. “We’ve done some light coaxing, but nothing too extreme.”

  The Captain turned to Shanti, who was staring at the occupant furthest from the door. The foreigner. Her face looked like a freshly peeled scab, pain dripping down her face. She didn’t notice the Mugdock, even though he was reaching through the bars at her. She didn’t notice Sanders or any of Sanders’ men. She only had eyes for that man in the far cell, silently gazing back.

  The Captain stared at the Mugdock, a small nerve pulsing in his jaw. He spoke to Shanti. “We need information out of them. They won’t tell us anything. I would rather not torture, but that is the next step. Can you…convince them to give us anything?”

  Shanti’s arm drifted toward the Captain, her gaze still locked with the far prisoner. “Touch lightly but keep within yourself. Don’t reach. Lucius, don’t wait so long if we lose ourselves.”

  Lucius shifted nervously, shuffling closer to the two as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. The Captain stared at Shanti’s outstretched hand with determination, probably the only pretty girl he was afraid to touch. The Captain reached out tentatively and touched her arm with his pointer finger. His face strained immediately; hers cleared. Both of their eyes started glowing faintly, which was Lucius’ cue to step closer, his hands reaching for their shoulders. In a few seconds it was over, Shanti stepping back quickly and the Captain reaching for the wall to steady himself. Sanders just shook his head.

  “Better,” Shanti said distractedly, her gaze finding the man in the last cell again. A small smile played on the prisoner’s face.

  “Start with the Mugdock. It won’t matter if you kill him,” the Captain said gently, his face all kinds of compassionate. “Hopefully you won’t be so keyed up by the time you get to the other.” Without looking away, he addressed the cluster of men in the room. “Everyone besides Lieutenant Lucius and Commander Sanders, clear out.”

  Sanders took two steps toward the door, watching the retreating backs of the prison guards with envy. Being in the same room with the Captain and the foreign woman was enough to get a man stabbed. Or worse. Much, much worse, in fact. Even though it might feel good. Which made it even worse still.

  Shanti approached the Mugdock slowly with that panther’s grace, her gaze often straying toward the man in the last cell.

  “So you do exist,” the foreigner said. His thick accent curled the words at the ends like burnt paper. His trickle of a smile was just visible in the gloom.

  Shanti didn’t stop at the Mugdock’s cell. Instead, she kept stalking toward the smug foreigner. “Yes. You have found me.”

  “And you found a mate. We thought it was impossible.” His gaze flicked toward the Captain.

  “No. No mate. Not your master, nor anyone else.”

  “He is only my master when it suits. Until now, it has suited. But now I have found you, and you have found a mate. The legends say that once you find a mate, your power will increase. I like to be on the side of the winner. And you have a wealthy mate with knowledge to turn rocks into treasures. I could be an asset to you. I know how to multiply treasures.”

  Shanti squared her shoulders at the man in the cell. “The legends are wrong. I had a mate before, and I did not get stronger. Your kind killed him.”

  “I do not think you understand how I use the term mate.”

  “Maybe not, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll play both sides if allowed. But you will not be allowed. I will kill you long before then.”

  The man tilted his head, his light eyes filled with humor. “Confident, I see. But what if I escape?”

  “You aren’t fast enough to outrun my reach.”

  “You think you are that strong.”

  “Yes.”

  From his seat on the stone floor, the man leaned forward to analyze the girl. His pale eyes started to glow faintly, a smug smile crossing his face. Those sickly eyes turned to look directly at the Captain. “Maybe we should kill another one of your favorites. Or have you grown used to it?”

  The Captain sucked in a noisy breath, his whole body flexing. His fists curled into tight balls, his face started to turn red from pain or anger, Sanders couldn’t tell.

  The prisoner’s lips curled in a smile. “He is untrained. Amazing turn of luck.”


  “Cayan,” Shanti said quietly, studying the foreigner. “Think of a shade behind your eyes. Envision the shade closed. If it is too hard, then envision using both hands to reach up, grab the shade with all your strength, and bring it down over your eyes.”

  The prisoner squinted, the curl of his lips dwindling. The smugness dripped off his face as he stared at the Captain.

  “Yes, he learns fast. Shocking, I know,” Shanti said conversationally. “In related news, that is a neat trick. Can you all do that?”

  The foreign prisoner leaned back with a startled release of breath, then stood in a rush. He backed against the wall until his back slapped stone. Shock and incredulity warred on his face…until fear took over.

  “Uh oh, now you can’t get away.” Shanti chuckled darkly, pain never having left her face. Her voice dipped an octave, hoarse with feeling. “You see, when you use little tricks like that, I learn them. Then I adapt them. Then I exploit them. Now I have you, little mouse. Where will you hide? Shall I make you dance?”

  “No! That is impossible!”

  “You have very little power, mouse. You were so confident before, but I bet you see now why I am sought. Do they know there is another? He is just as strong and his power hasn’t even opened fully. He is raw power, and I am excellent at finesse. You see?”

  The man started screaming, clawing at his face. He began swatting away invisible flies from his back and arms, terrified of something he couldn’t see. Shanti leaned forward ever so slightly, her eyes glowing more now, her mouth turned down at the corners.

  “Your people should not have killed someone I loved, little mouse,” she said softly. “It makes for very little pity.”

  “No! It was not me. I did not touch him! ”

  “But you know who did. You were there,” Shanti whispered, her face cracking, revealing visions of death. Of loss. Of misery so intense it sucked all the happy thoughts from the room and corroded their memories.