Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

by Box Set

  Otec didn’t have to ask his men to know their answer. “After some rest and food, yes. I’ve six injured who need to be cared for.” He figured most of them would live.

  Gen nodded. “I can give you food, and an easy assignment for rest. The Cors and what few Argons we have are holding the front lines, but we need to spell them.”

  Matka gasped. “Wait!” She pushed herself to her feet. “The Idarans will have something else planned. They always do.”

  Gen looked her over like she was a beetle in one of his barrels of rye. “You’re one of them.”

  Otec moved in front of her, and the Argon boys immediately stepped up next to him. “She was their slave,” Otec said firmly. “Without her help, the Shyle would be gone, and possibly the whole of the clan lands as well.”

  Gen motioned to his men. “Tie her up. I don’t want her signaling the rest of them.”

  Destin stepped up beside the Argon boys. “I suppose you don’t need the Shyle’s help after all.”

  Otec shot Destin an appreciative glance and noticed the rest of his men had tightened up and were staring Gen down.

  “Fine,” Gen growled. “But she’s not fighting with us. We’ve killed enough Raiders posing as highmen—we’d hardly notice one more.” He took a step back and pointed to a tent. “There’s food and water there. Take what you need. Quickly.”

  The Shyle clanmen bunched around Otec, forming a phalanx of protection around Matka. He strode toward the tent, nearly a hundred of his men around him.

  “And Otec,” Gen called out. Otec looked back. “Make sure she stays there.”

  Otec didn’t respond. They filed through the tent door. It was a relief to be out of the wind, even if it was steamy inside the tent. There was rye gruel, beer, and boiled vegetables. He took a huge helping of each, sat on the ground, and bolted the food down before he could taste any of it.

  Matka sat beside him, but instead of eating, she tending to his wounds. “Matka . . .” he began.

  “It’s all right. I saw a tent for the wounded, and I’d rather be there, healing instead of injuring. I’ll make sure your clanmen are looked after.”

  Otec shifted uncomfortably on the rocky ground. “I don’t like it.”

  She tipped her head to look up at him. “They’d be fools to trust me.” She reached into her pack and handed him her telescope. “Find the high ground and keep your eyes open.”

  “Matka, could you go after them?” he asked carefully.

  “I’ve thought about it,” she whispered. “I am known to many people in Idara. If I go back, it will be to my death. But if you ask it of me, I will.”

  Otec closed his eyes. “No.” There was no use, not if she would die.

  Gen appeared at the tent flap. “Shyle, time to go.”

  Otec pushed to his feet. The ground seemed to pitch under him as he struggled to stave off a wave of exhaustion. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  Matka rolled her eyes. “I’m not the one marching into battle.”

  Yes, but she was surrounded by people who thought she was the enemy. He reached back and squeezed her hand before striding outside. It was nearly dawn now. Light enough to see the heated battle in the middle of a field of crushed grain.

  As Otec walked with him through the tents, Gen explained, “My men and I will push to the front—the Raiders have been concentrating on punching through our middle—and the Argons and Cors will gradually fall back as we replace them.

  “I’ll post you there, on that high ground.” Gen pointed to a steep hill topped by a tumbling of rocks and boulders surrounded by a stretch of trees, the foliage the rusty red of old blood. “Those men have been up there since midday yesterday. The Raiders have been foolish enough to rush it a few times. But they’re easily repelled with slings and bows.”

  Otec agreed, grateful his men wouldn’t be thrown right into the thick of battle. He gestured for them to follow and started up the incline.

  Gen reached out, taking hold of Otec’s arm. “If you lose that hill, our whole north flank will be exposed.”

  Otec nodded and Gen let him go. Otec climbed the rocky ground. In the forest, he noticed the trees had crusty boils across their surface—some type of blight, perhaps. He walked on the corpses of the diseased leaves, feeling blisters starting in his wet boots.

  He and his men crossed behind the Reisen holding the front, until they reached the knobby hill, its twin on the other side of a field of rye. The Reisen greeted them gratefully, showed them where the artillery was, and departed with heavy steps.

  Otec surveyed the area, which was covered in a scattering of boulders, most just big enough to provide cover for a man to lie behind. They would make it easily defendable.

  While the men of the Shyle spread out among the rocks and boulders, getting comfortable and wringing saltwater from their boots, Otec braced himself against the wind on a boulder just taller than a man and perched precariously on two smaller boulders. He pulled out Matka’s telescope. Nervous after her warning, he searched the forest along the sides of the hill, and below that, the field of golden rye that should have long since been harvested. It had already dropped much of the grain. And it was dropping more, leaving the precious food on the ground to rot.

  Otec stared at the stalks, which were taller than a man. Something was wrong. They should be shifting with the wind in wave-like patterns. But this looked more like a hail of pebbles scattered across the still surface of a pond.

  “Destin!” he called. The man looked up from where he was wringing saltwater from the felt liner of his boots. “Come here!”

  Destin shoved his feet in and pushed over to Otec’s side, taking the telescope from his hands. “I don’t see anything.”

  “The rye—it’s moving wrong.” Matka’s warning pounding against his memory, Otec took the telescope and rested his gaze on the sickly trees. It was eerily quiet. “And the forest.”

  “I don’t see anything there either,” Destin said.

  “That’s what’s wrong. There should at least be birds flitting about.” Otec lowered the telescope. “Send the twins after the men who just left. I want them back here. And send Ivar to the Reisen down the line. We’re surrounded on two sides and we need reinforcements.”

  “Gen said his men easily repelled their attack before.” Destin took a step closer. “They won’t pull men from the front lines, not when they’re under heavy attack.”

  Otec’s gaze shifted between the trees and the rye, thinking of the cliffs he’d just climbed. “The plan was to position men at our flanks, making our front lines bulge forward. They’ll surround us, cut us off, and finish this.”

  It was brilliant. And it would work if he didn’t move fast. Destin was already backing away. “Otec, are you sure?”

  He didn’t bother answering but dropped from the boulder, his blisters popping and fluid oozing around his heels. He grabbed the Argon boy’s shoulders and gave orders himself.

  Then he moved among his men, saying, “Take defensive positions among these rocks, and set yourself up with arrows and stones. But don’t hurry. We don’t want to push them into attacking us yet—we’ll be overrun if they do.”

  Finally, Destin nodded and started gathering up more men. And then they waited.

  Ivar came back first. “Gen says to calm down. A hundred men have held this hill for a week.”

  Otec ground his teeth. “That’s because the Raiders let him hold this hill.”

  The twins came back again, a hundred grumbling Reisen trailing behind them. A grizzled man took hold of Otec’s shirt. “Listen, boy, you might be a clan chief, but my axe has killed more Raiders than—”

  Otec shoved him away. “Your men will move into position around these rocks. And you will do it now!”

  The man stepped back, glaring at him. “We haven’t eaten since midday last.”

  “Now,” Otec said as he eased his axe from his belt.

  The man looked at the axe, then back at Otec. The man at his side t
ook hold of his arm. “Ymir, he outranks you.”

  Ymir shook him off. “Gen will have you to the beating pole for this, clan chief or not.”

  Otec stared him down, and Ymir motioned to the hundred Reisen behind him. “Back into position. This fool Shyle—”

  His rant was interrupted by Destin shouting, “Raiders!”

  Otec shoved his axe back in place and climbed back on the tallest boulder, then took hold of his bow and started firing at the men rushing out of the field in such numbers they shook the remaining seeds from the stalks. He didn’t even need to aim for the sheer number of them; he simply fired three arrows at once into the front line, then took hold of three more and fired again.

  Two hundred men firing arrows on two sides left a line of dead the Raiders had to clamber over. And still they kept coming.

  “They’re attacking the Reisen at the base of the hill!” cried one of Otec’s men.

  Otec swung his bow around, taking out men as they cleared the trees. If they could punch behind the Reisens’ lines, they would have the hill surrounded. “We have to hold this hill!” Otec yelled as Raiders fell with the blighted leaves.

  For a while, his men held the Raiders back, killing them faster than they could climb. But they just kept coming—hundreds upon hundreds of them. And Otec’s men were running out of arrows. The men moved seamlessly to slings, flinging stones nearly as quickly as the arrows had flown. Otec joined them, taking stones from a stack someone had already set up on top of the boulder. Soon the stacks of stones had dwindled down to bare rock. Men scrambled along the ground, slinging anything they could find.

  The Raiders crested their wave of dead and began advancing up the hill.

  “We have to retreat,” Dobber called out from Otec’s right.

  “If we lose this hill, we lose the only advantage the north flank has,” Otec replied. He found the twins and motioned them toward the main camp. “We need arrows. And order any men in the camp up here now!”

  The boys took off at a dead run. Otec turned back to the battle just as the first Raider crested the hill, his swords thrusting forward. Destin chopped down on the folded steel, shoved the man back with his shield, and swung his axe down.

  This was repeated across the lines by the handful. But without enough men keeping the Raiders at bay with their slings, another dozen snuck in. And another. Dobber was in trouble, two men fighting him at once.

  Otec hooked his sling on his belt and took his shield in hand. He dropped down from his boulder, axe swinging. The Raider was dead before he fell. Otec swung at the Raider fighting Dobber, cutting into his legs. Dobber finished him with a strong swing.

  Otec whirled around. He blocked and chopped, his arms past feeling. Swords sliced past his shield. Dozens of cuts crisscrossed his skin. Yet his men held.

  Destin appeared on his right. “They just keep coming.”

  “Gen has to see our need,” Otec panted, his axe seeming heavier and heavier. “He has to send reinforcements.” But the men came only from the direction of the encampment. And they were going to be too late.

  Sweat ran down Dobber’s face. “Otec,” he gasped, “if we don’t retreat now, we’re all going to die.”

  “If we retreat” —Otec used the backswing of his axe to bash in a Raider who’d tried to sneak up behind him— “the Raiders will overrun us all.”

  A cry came from his right and he turned to see Dobber staggering back, blood gushing from his leg. Otec took a step to help him, but Destin was suddenly there, driving the edge of his shield into the man’s back and saving Dobber’s life.

  But the move left Destin open to the man he’d been fighting, and the Raider took advantage, shoving his sword into Destin’s back. The Raider leapt over Destin’s falling body and rushed at Dobber.

  Otec rammed the Raider with the lips of his shield, swept his legs out from under him, and killed him with one downward swing. He whipped around to find Destin in his death throes. Dobber gaped at the dying man and began backing away, his head shaking vehemently. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  “Dobber—” Otec sidestepped a thrust, sweeping the Raider’s swords to the side with his shield, and following it up with a quick chop. He looked over his shoulder to see Dobber running, leaving Otec’s right flank open. “Dobber!” he shouted as two men at once descended on him.

  Gritting his teeth, Otec gave ground. “Tighten up!” A Raider’s sword slipped through his shield, piercing his already wounded arm.

  Another sword pierced his leg. He was losing too much blood. And his reactions were growing slower. Otec backed up, knowing he needed help. A swing came, and he knew he would be too slow to block.

  Chapter 20

  The Raider froze mid-swing, eyes bulging. By the hundreds, arrows rained down on the Raiders swarming the hill. But the arrows came from behind the Raiders.

  Otec staggered back and his clanmen stepped forward, blocking him from the Raiders. He let his arms fall, his axe and shield too heavy to hold up anymore. He traced the path of the arrows back to the hill on the other side of the rye field. He lifted his telescope and stared through it at a company of Argons. “Where did they . . .” and then he saw Seneth shouting out orders to what had to be two hundred and fifty men. “By the Balance, he’s got at least a hundred boys with him.”

  Otec heard a thunk and turned to see his axe had slipped from his hands. He stared at it, wondering how it had gotten on the ground. And then he saw the blood running like a river down his arm. He staggered back and realized his boots were full of blood. He fell to his knees and turned to see men from the encampment cresting the hill on the south side, Matka leading them.

  He reached for her, but the movement threw him off balance. He tipped over, landing hard on the rocks. Otec stared at the sky, wondering if this was how the leaves felt as they died, their colors bleeding out.

  And then Matka blocked his view. She didn’t say a word, just opened a bag and tied a ripped rag tight on his upper arm.

  Another woman knelt beside her. Otec recognized her—Ressa, Gen’s wife. “This is Otec? Should we move him?”

  “No!” Matka said breathlessly. “If I don’t get his bleeding stopped, he’ll be dead before we get anywhere.”

  Ressa glanced around. “But we’re at the front lines.”

  Matka leaned over Otec, looking into his eyes. “I’ve been on the front lines all my life.” Her words whispered against his lips. “Stay with me, Otec, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

  He looked into her dark eyes, determination rising like a wave within him. “Stay.”

  Tears pooling in her eyes, she nodded. “All right. I’ll stay if you will.”

  He smiled then, for he knew he’d won.

  Chapter 21

  It took two months and a harsh winter to finally drive the Raiders from the clan lands’ shores. Braving the freezing wind off the ocean, Otec found Matka standing well back from the edge of the cliffs, watching the departing Raider ships.

  His gaze dropped to the item she was rubbing her thumb across. She held the elice blossom he had carved for her. The stem had long ago broken off, and he noticed the wood was shiny from the oils of her hands.

  So she had held the carving and rubbed it often. The thought made Otec bold. Fighting the dizziness that plagued him whenever he moved, he stood beside her, looking out over the water.

  “They’ll be back,” Matka said without looking at him. “Defeating them though they outnumbered you two to one . . . King Kutik’s humiliation will turn to hatred. And they will be back.”

  “Then we’ll defeat them again.” Otec stared at the ships, wondering if his sisters and younger brothers were aboard any of them, or already on their way to Idara.

  With enormous effort, he pushed the thought out of his mind and said, “I’ve spoken with Seneth—he’s agreed to marry us.”

  Matka turned to look at Otec. “I didn’t promise to marry you.”

  He realized he should have been more specific, b
ut then he had been dying at the time. “I know you love me.”

  She wet her lips. “You know I can’t.”

  He touched her face—he’d been longing to touch her like this ever since the waterfall. “I won’t live my life in fear of curses. I see what I want. And I’m going to take it.”

  “I can’t do that to our daughter.”

  Otec stepped closer to her, unable to stand the distance between them. “Who says we’ll even have a daughter? All our children could be boys. Or we could die tomorrow and have no children at all. All I know is that we have to seize what happiness we can while we can.”

  Matka closed her eyes as if the thought were physically painful. “Otec . . .”

  Her hair had grown nearly to her chin. She was kind and good and strong. Most importantly, she held Otec’s heart, and he held hers. “No,” he said. Her head came up as he stepped closer again. “You are my light,” he continued. “Without you, the darkness would swallow me whole. I will not give you up. I will not allow anything else to be taken from me.”

  She stared into his gaze with watering eyes. “But the fairies are tricksy and cruel.”

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ears. “And we are strong and brave.”

  Matka gave a sad smile. “I wish you could be that innocent man again. That the darkness had let you be.”

  Otec took her face in his hands. “But then I would never have appreciated the light. Marry me?”

  She tipped her head back, the sunlight touching her cheeks. A smile spread across her mouth. “I will.”

  Otec kissed her warm lips—lips that tasted of sunshine.

  Epilogue

  With the cool spring breeze blowing across his back, Otec finished hammering the last shingle on the clan house’s new roof. He took a moment to look around his village. Most of the homes that could be saved were nearly finished. The rest were being knocked down, the salvageable stones to be reused in building new houses. Still, the village was only about half the size it had been, and the number of burial mounds behind the clan house had nearly doubled.