by K. F. Breene
“But we’d still cause a stir with the battle getting into the city,” Daniels said. “Disappearing after that would be impossible. The town might be full with tourists, but it isn’t that big, and is stuffed with Graygual. Those aren’t good odds.”
“We can get you in with our trading supplies,” Yeasmine said in a steady, clear voice. “And our Captain can take you. He would only have room for fifteen or so with the supplies, but once in the city, the others—the more harmless looking among you—can charter another ship.”
Anxiety was starting to eat away at the older woman, Shanti could feel it. Yeasmine held her head high, though, with a straight back. An older man moved beside her and put his hand in hers. “We knew this wood would not be a permanent solution when we came here,” he said. “The lands are restless. We do not know of this Wanderer, but news has reached us of a woman who rescued two captives out from under the Hunter’s nose. Word has spread. This violet-eyed woman and her Ghost are our best hope, and we are ready to do our part.”
“And I will be your guide,” the woman said as she ripped off another piece of bread with her teeth.
“Just lost your job, Burson,” Sanders said in his customary growl.
* * *
They lost another day in order to construct an entirely new plan involving hollow barrels, covered wagons, and items to trade with the Shadow Lands. A select group would lead the larger than normal trading party in through a gate of the port city with some of Tara’s network, and directly to the ship where a Captain named Jooston the SeaFarer would take them aboard, deal with the inspection, and set sail.
Jooston was hailed as the best sea captain in the land, facing and beating more storms than anyone out of legend. He was crazy, wild, and hated the Graygual with a passion, though no one had ever heard exactly why. He was the perfect choice.
The plan sounded so easy. So effortless. Unfortunately, in Shanti’s experience, nothing ever went to plan.
Shanti sat with Cayan and Sanders, tucked into the back of a cart with wood carvings and a few baskets of fresh, wild roots and vegetables only found within the woods. The cart behind them held five barrels, currently without lids, which would hold four boys and Ruisa when they came to the inspection. Currently, the boys and the girl dressed as a boy were riding, since they could pass for hired guards—extremely cheap hired guards, given their age, which fit Tara’s known lack of funds. Xavier would get to ride through the gate, since he was too big to fit into one of the barrels. Rohnan and Burson were in the next cart, chatting about their various studies of the Wanderer versus the Chosen, and there was one more cart at the back holding Tepson, Etherlan and Tobias. Each cart had a tarp over it that made it look more like a flattened wagon, hiding who was inside. This gave the illusion of higher priced goods, which Tara assured them she traveled with no more than twice a year—the spoils of those that ventured through the woods. The backs of the wagons were open for air while there were very few travelers on the road. Daniels also got to ride, as he looked more refined than the others.
The hope was that, even if the Hunter himself was at the gate, he wouldn’t see Shanti or her crew to be able to recognize them.
“My legs are falling asleep,” Sanders said in his gruff voice as he rocked to one side and straightened a leg. He accidentally kicked Shanti trying to find room to stretch it out, and then again on purpose when she didn’t allow him more space.
“You aren’t the only one sitting like a child for hours at a time.” Shanti moved until he could get his leg straight, then pushed back against it so she wasn’t pressed against Cayan’s side.
“You’re younger, more agile and you’re a woman. You bend.” Sanders punched his thigh. “Ah! The needles are pricking me!”
“I’m more agile because I stretch.” Shanti reached back and wiggled his foot.
Sanders huffed out a laugh. He wiggled his foot. “Better. How far—what’s he doing?”
Shanti glanced to the rear as Cayan turned around to see Burson riding up the line of wagons on his horse, a cockeyed smile on his face.
“He’s smiling,” Sanders growled. “No sense ever comes out of him when he smiles.”
“Smartest thing you’ve said all day,” Shanti mumbled.
Burson drew even with the back of their cart and hunched down so he could peer in the back. “Hello.”
“Burson, that isn’t the best place to be traveling. We’re getting close to Clintos,” Shanti remarked.
“Yes, yes. I will not be discovered, though. I thought a nice ride through the countryside might clear my head. It was a small risk, but worth it, I think. I did wonder, you see.” Burson did his customary glance at the sky that Shanti had come to recognize as either thinking about his Wanderer texts or his Seeing Gift in some way.
“Is this where we ask what he wondered?” Sanders drawled. “Because I’d just as soon let him wander around on that horse and talk to himself.”
Shanti couldn’t help a smirk. “Be good, or we’ll put you back with him and Rohnan.”
“The mind reader and the madman—hopefully the Captain doesn’t hate me that much.”
“What did you wonder?” Cayan asked, still looking out at the older man.
“Well,” Burson straightened up until Shanti could only see his chest. “It seemed as though the journey was leading to a dead end. This is the reason I needed some air, of course. I could not fathom why the All Mighty would lead us to a closed door. We are on the right journey—I am sure of it. But I could not see how we would not die after the Shadow Lands. I wondered if the next milestone, the most important milestone, wouldn’t be reached. Which, currently, seems likely.”
“Comforting,” Sanders snarled. “Just a ray of damn sunshine.”
“You mean passing the trials?” Cayan asked Burson.
“Yes, of course,” Burson replied. “So I wanted to ponder that great mystery and see if we weren’t missing something.”
“And what did you See?” Shanti asked, trying to see the man’s face.
“Xandre is an exacting man,” Burson said in a wispy voice. “Everything must be in his control before he engages. He must know all the pieces and how they work before he makes a move. Shanti taught him this valuable lesson when he was young and new to his self-made position. That had been a big setback for him. It took him a couple years to recover. He is cautious now. And rightly so, with an enemy such as the violet-eyed girl.”
“How does this relate to our situation?” Cayan asked.
Shanti could see Burson’s elbow move. She bet he’d just ticked the sky with his index finger in that weird way he did. “We will soon introduce a new element. A new, incredibly destructive weapon. One that Xandre does not know how to combat, does not even know exists. He will be set back, again. Hit in the blindside, once again. And he will have something new to covet—one that he has not studied—one that will inspire fear in Xandre. The unknown makes him wary.”
“Your Gift,” Shanti said, meeting Cayan’s eyes.
“But when does he see it?” Cayan asked. Wariness crept into his gaze.
Shanti shook her head slowly and looked out at Burson again. “Are we about to run into trouble, Burson? Is that why you couldn’t wait to tell us this?”
“What are you doing outside the cart?” Tara’s voice boomed down the line. “We’re in sight of the gates, you fool. Get inside! Boys, get into your barrels. Everyone close up your tarps.”
“Great timing, as ever,” Sanders said as Burson fell back. “Deliver a message like that, leave us hanging, and then drift away. That guy never fails to amaze me.”
“The question is, if we do run into trouble, do I show my Gift now, or try to wait until after the trials?” Cayan asked softly. “When is the right time?”
Shanti shook her head again in response. She didn’t know, but she had a feeling that answer would be crucial.
Chapter Twenty-One
With their tarp closed and their Gifts shielded, Shanti and Cayan
could do nothing but listen to the clomping of hooves and the creak of the cart as they made their way along the road. Tara made outbursts and inspired raucous laughter from the few up front with her, one of which was Tomous. It sounded completely natural. Tara hadn’t had the chance to prove it, but she seemed tranquil under pressure. She was a lucky find.
“What’s all this?” Tara asked in suspicion, using the common trader language as Shanti’s cart slowed.
Shanti looked at Cayan, who had a throwing knife in his hand. Sanders held a dagger over his knees, staring straight ahead without expression. These men were ready.
“Inspection,” came a gruff voice.
“Since when?” Tara asked in outrage. Leather groaned before the soft thud of boots hit the dirt. “I was here not two weeks ago. I got a buyer.”
“Listen, doll, this ain’t a tax or a shakedown. See them guys in the black shirts? Yeah, them’s Graygual and Inkna. Just looking for passengers.”
“Passengers?” Tara started laughing. “Well, have your look. But don’t you be getting sticky fingers pawing through my stuff. And don’t get the rugs dirty, neither!”
“Lady, where do you hail from?” came a cultured voice sounding completely out of place with the language. Obviously an officer of some sort.
“Tomous, follow that beady-eyed sod, will ya? I don’t trust him with my stuff,” Tara’s voice boomed. “I come from all over. I’m a trader for hire. Or haven’t you heard of that?”
“Enlighten me,” came the cultured voice, a little closer.
“Be glad to. Lately, folks have been a bit under the heel. Seems a bunch of dirty low-lives have come through and turned small towns upside down. Folks are afraid to leave their homes. They’re afraid to travel the roads, and it ain’t because of thieves, neither. They’re afraid of organized army-types…”
Sanders gently shifted forward and lightly shook his head. He was probably worried about the thinly veiled contempt in Tara’s voice. He probably thought she would push the Graygual into action. And if it had been one of the low-lives in question she would have. But she knew what she was doing—she knew the sort of man that had stopped her. Officers thought the tactics and heavy-handedness of the lower ranks were disgusting. An officer might take a beauty from a town and force her to be his concubine, but she would be treated well in her new life. The officers thought any woman should be proud to bear his children, and as such, didn’t think of it as forcing. To them, that was different to taking a woman in the streets against her will. Tara was playing the part of disgruntled trader perfectly. She was making money off the Graygual tactics in this lie, but she didn’t much like why. Shanti nearly laughed.
A shadow fell over the tarp right before the fabric rustled. A wad of material shook before being pulled back. A ruddy face appeared with blue sky behind him. Cayan held up his knife to throw as Sanders leaned forward, ready to launch himself over Shanti and at the man. The man’s eyes widened slightly, but he made the motions of peering through the cart, anyway. When he was done, he tugged the tarp closed again. They heard, “Vegetables and bread. A couple days from going off.”
“It’s food, ain’t it?” Tara yelled defensively. “It’ll keep people from going hungry.”
The man grunted as he moved away. The shadow of Tomous moved away behind him. Sanders settled back. Cayan lowered his knife.
They waited another ten minutes before the same cultured voice said, “That bodyguard’s a little young, isn’t he?”
“Young and handsome, just like I like ’em. He can go for hours.” Tara laughed.
“And cheap,” the gruff man called from down the line.
“Well, hell. Do I look like I’m swimming in gold coins?” Tara shot back.
“I should report you for trying to sell poisoned goods,” the gruff man said as his voice neared. Footsteps passed their cart. “That wine smells rancid.”
“Hey, I don’t produce it, I just sell it. If people want it, then they want it.”
“Whatever,” the gruff man replied.
“Move on,” the officer called.
“Waste of time,” Tara grumbled. They heard the leather of her saddle creak. “I’d have fresher goods if I didn’t have to worry about stuff like this.”
“Ten minutes ain’t going to make a whole pile of difference with them goods,” the gruff man said.
The cart groaned as the procession started moving. “Just stick to what you’re good at—standing there like a lump,” Tara badgered.
Shanti allowed a soft sigh to escape her lips. She let go of her knife and wiped her sweaty palm on her pants.
“Wait,” called the cultured voice. The breath caught in Shanti’s throat as the officer followed up with, “Stop! Let me see that horse.”
“That horse is going for market,” Tara said as the progression ground to a halt again. Shanti picked up her knife.
“Where did you get that horse?” the officer asked.
“Which one? That black one?” Tara was referring to Cayan’s horse. “Why, you want to buy it? Beauty, ain’t he? I’ll give ya a good price.”
“No. The brown stallion. You, son, bring that horse here.”
Shanti squeezed her eyes shut. Please be a normal horse, you bloody bastard. Please be timid.
“I haven’t seen the equal to Shanti’s horse,” Sanders said in a low whisper. “Hell, any of those Graygual horses. Cayan’s comes close, I’d recognize the blood line of Cayan’s horse if one just showed up out of the blue.”
Cayan nodded. It was a finely bred animal, and his city had bought it from the Duke to secure the blood lines. It made sense that people who knew horses would recognize finely bred animals. Unfortunately, this officer was one such man. Just their luck.
“Bring him here, I said,” the officer called again.
“I’m trying, but he’s…” that strange horse-growl cut Xavier off. Sanders and Cayan both looked at Shanti.
“Get ready. Everyone who meets that horse remembers him,” Shanti uttered in defeat.
The horse whinnied. Hooves stomped. Xavier let out a sound of surprise before the officer yelled, “Grab that horse! Grab those horses!”
Another whinny followed in front of them. The cart started rocking and shaking. It jerked forward and then back, as if the more timid horses pulling it were rearing.
“I can’t use my power!” someone shouted.
“Apprehend them!” the officer yelled.
“That’s our cue!” Sanders jabbed the tarp with his sword and slashed. Cayan punched through the back and spilled out onto the dirt as Sanders leapt out over the side. Shanti followed Cayan as the muffle on her Gift disappeared. The cart jerked forward as she jumped. Cayan caught her arm and steadied her, giving her one moment to take in the scene.
Her horse and the other two stolen Graygual horses were galloping at the guards’ horses. Shanti’s horse got there first and reared, battering the other horses with its hooves. His fellow warhorses were just as wild, biting and bucking and kicking, following the Bloody Bastard’s lead. Shanti didn’t have time to marvel. The Graygual were on their feet with swords drawn, running at Tara and Tomous.
“Tara, Tomous, run ahead and warn the ship’s captain that we’re coming,” Cayan ordered.
“Do we kill these men, sir?” Sanders asked as he dove onto a running officer. His compact body of muscle knocked the taller but lankier man to the dirt. Sanders kicked away the officer’s sword and rolled him over amid a cloud of dust.
Cayan glanced at Shanti.
“Kill them quickly, we must flee!” came Burson’s voice. He was running toward Shanti. “Unhook the horses from the carts. We must take those.”
Tara took off at a gallop as an arrow sailed past her back.
“Daniels!” Cayan yelled. He pointed to two archers. Daniels was already on it. He loosed an arrow. The shaft dug into the middle of a black-clad chest. Another arrow stuck into the neck of the Graygual beside him. Xavier had reacted as well.
; Sanders pulled his knife across the neck of the Graygual before snatching the man’s sword and hopping up. Cayan ran forward, sword out, as a Graygual approached Sanders’ back. Cayan slashed down and opened a red gash along the man’s arm. The Graygual spun, without surprise or pain in his expression. He didn’t have time to raise his sword before Cayan stabbed him through the chest then yanked out his blade. In a single motion he chopped at the man’s wrist. The Graygual’s hand and sword dropped onto the road.
Sanders snatched that sword too as he started running toward his horse. Rohnan unhooked the mounts from Shanti’s cart before running to his own animal. Reaching it, he jumped on. His staff spun as he kicked the horse into action, chasing two Graygual on foot who were trying to get to the loose horses of the Honor Guard. The boys were still spilling out of their cart amid rolling barrels.
“Do I use my Gift, Burson?” Shanti yelled as she ran toward a tame horse newly freed from the cart. Before she reached it, her horse thundered up and stopped at her side. Without another thought, she jumped up onto her animal—he was wild and unruly, but he was hers.
“No! No powers,” Burson barked. He looked behind him wildly. “Not yet. Hurry! We must go!”
Cayan swung his leg over the back of his horse as the boys mounted theirs. Rohnan turned his animal toward the front of the progression. The ends of his staff dripped crimson.
The sound of steel rang out. Etherlan feinted and blocked a Graygual’s downward swing. Before he could counter, the Graygual arched back. Blood gurgled out of his mouth as Tobias pulled his sword from the man’s back.
“Let’s go!” Cayan called, urging his shining, black horse forward.
“Where to, Burson?” Shanti asked.
“We need to reach the ship before the Graygual,” Burson said, coaxing his horse into a rapid stride. “When I cut off the Inkna, I felt others reach this direction. They are monitoring each other. They know we are here.”