by Kelley Grant
They watched as two assassins crept behind the idling guards. Kadar flinched as the Tigus knifed the men and dragged their bodies farther out into the desert, behind a large cactus. The two assassins scouted the area, making certain no guards remained, and then motioned for the others to enter the camp.
Onyeka’s tribe had stolen enough uniforms for all the assassins entering the camp. In the predawn dark, they would hopefully not be noticed as they walked the edges of the camp with army-issued hats and scarves covering most of their faces.
Kadar unslung his bow off his back to prepare for any trouble that might block the assassins’ fast escape after they’d killed the Knights.
Onyeka took his bow from him. “You will not linger to fight. You promised the elders. At the first commotion, you release the spell on the horses and race to the camp. Leave the fighting to us.”
Kadar frowned but let her have the bow. There’d been a fight about Kadar’s involvement. He was the only one who could keep the horses lying down and quiet, but they did not want to risk him getting injured this close to the army. Onyeka had come to his defense and vowed to guard him. Kadar suspected it was because Onyeka wanted action. She’d been disappointed that she would not be one of assassins. This way she could direct the action and be useful protecting Kadar.
“No noise so far,” Kadar said. “Do you think that means the other teams made it in without being discovered?”
Onyeka nodded without moving her gaze from where the Tigu assassins had entered the camp. It was maddening not having a way of communicating between the groups. The elders had considered using hoots or other animal noises, but in the end they decided such noises would attract too much notice. Instead, the cue for the assassins to kill the Knights was the complete set of the moon, when the cat star was directly overhead. It seemed too imprecise to Kadar.
There was no convenient hill or ledge from which to watch the progress of the assassins. Kadar had no way of telling where the twenty Tigus of their team were as they split again into groups of four and sought out the Forsaken cohorts they’d been assigned to. The warriors of the One had assured Kadar that when the Knights were killed, the Forsaken would wake immediately with the freeing of their geas. Kadar hoped they would have enough sense to recognize their chance to flee and take it.
Kadar glanced at the moon, which was now only a sliver above the horizon.
“Did we give them enough time to get in place?” he asked.
She looked over at him, a small smile on her lips. “Shhh.” She put a hand on his arm, and he realized he’d been fidgeting. He hated waiting.
The moon disappeared and Kadar held his breath, knowing it was the moment. The warriors who had taken out the army sentinels returned. Minutes passed, and no uproar came from the camp.
“How long should we wait?” one of the other Tigus asked Onyeka.
“Until the camp rouses and we know something of our comrades’ fate,” she said grimly.
“Do we attempt rescue?” a warrior wanted to know.
“No. They knew the risks. They have been given poison capsules. We would only be recovering bodies.”
Their first hint of success was when men trickled quietly out of the camp, fleeing north. At first Kadar thought it was their assassins returning, and allowed the horses to rise to their feet. But these men looked bemused, shocked as they stumbled out. Once they reached the edge of the encampment, where the Tigus were, they realized they were clear of the army and ran north. One tried to grab a horse, but Kadar stopped him. The Forsaken man jerked back with a gasp as Kadar materialized in front of him.
“These go south, with the men who freed you,” he said gently, pushing the man away. “Go north, blessed by the One.”
The Forsaken man stumbled, and then ran north with his fellows. It was a strangely quiet exodus from the camp. Kadar was shocked an alarm had not yet sounded and said so to Onyeka.
“Our assassins killed as many guards as they could, going through camp,” Onyeka said. “I thought the Forsaken themselves would be noisy, like Northerners usually are, but I guess they have learned quiet in their captivity. This cannot hold.”
Onyeka was correct. A great shout went up in camp. As they watched, smoke rose over the camp. It was clear that tents had been set on fire and the fire was spreading through the camp. Kadar slung himself up on Asfar’s back as the camp was suddenly boiling with fighters roused from their sleep, coughing in the smoke and wanting to know what the commotion was about.
The other Tigu guards mounted as well, bows at the ready, but all attention was focused inside the camp at the choking smoke that now covered the area and masked the torches.
“There’s Jein,” Onyeka said, as one of their Tigu assassins sped out of camp in the middle of fleeing Forsaken. Other assassins quickly followed her and flung themselves up on the horses.
“Move out. The rest are lost,” Jein shouted.
Onyeka covered their fleeing group with arrows as fighters pursued the escaping Forsaken.
“Go,” she yelled.
Kadar urged Asfar to a gallop, leading their team. The army troops were not organized enough to follow.
When they were well out of range, Kadar circled their group around to the south and their meeting point with the other Tigu teams.
Onyeka caught up with them quickly.
“They were too busy trying to keep Forsaken in and too worried about the fires spreading to pursue us,” she said. “I think we’ve caused chaos in the group. How many assassins returned to us?”
Jein reined in beside Onyeka. “We lost three in one group,” she reported. “A soldier caught them escaping after their strike. Kana and Dray each lost two to guards, but the rest were able to kill the Knights to finish their missions. All succeeded in killing their targets. All killed or died by their own hands. No captives.”
Onyeka nodded approvingly. “You have honored the Sepacu tribe,” she said, and Jein beamed with pride. “You all have served the One well and will be rewarded.”
The sun was rising when they met up with three of the other groups. Battle leader Jaiden was speaking with the returning groups.
Kadar watched the other Tigus as Onyeka reported. The assassins were stripping off the army gear, changing to robes, and laughing among themselves. None seemed disturbed that they’d killed men who were sleeping in their beds.
“Who set the fires?” Onyeka asked.
“When the camp roused, several Forsaken men used torches to set fire to the canvas tents. The smoke masked their exit and the fires, rather than the fleeing Forsaken, got the attention of the fighters. When we fled south, the Forsaken were lighting up every tent as they ran.”
They rode well east of the army before finding and digging up a small spring to water themselves and the horses and stop for a quick rest. Jaiden sent a messenger ahead to the elders. It would be a two-day ride to the camp, which had moved south into the Sands in anticipation of army retaliation.
Onyeka was ebullient about the battle but saw Kadar’s reticence.
“Why do you not celebrate?” she asked. “We freed thousands of slaves in one blow.”
“But how many will actually stay free?” he asked. He’d wanted to escort the Forsaken to a safer location, but the elders had overruled him. There weren’t enough Tigus to protect the Forsaken they had freed. “And how will they be punished if they’re retaken?”
“Jaiden said most of the Forsaken were smart and took their weapons when they escaped. If Voras wants to recover them he will have a fight on his hands. We will know for certain how many stayed and how many the deities recovered when our scouts report back. Jaiden says we were very fortunate. The Voices will arrive late today. Tomorrow night the camp will be more closely guarded. Their presence could have meant total failure.”
He and Onyeka slept side by side in the chilly night. He knew they�
�d probably be separated again soon if her tribe was assigned to follow the army and he stayed with the elders. He treasured the feel of her in his arms under the starry sky.
When they rode into camp, Amber was waiting to climb onto his shoulder.
“We knew you’d be returning soon thanks to that little one,” Turo told him. “She is better than a watchdog.”
The elders wanted Kadar to report the assassins’ success to the warriors of the One, so he settled on his mat and reached out for his cousin.
Abram’s sending was shaky and he seemed upset. Kadar relayed his messages from the elder, and then asked, What is it Abram? Has something gone wrong?
Abram hesitated, speaking with someone on his side. They say I can tell you. Kadar, they’re dead.
Who is dead? Kadar asked, alarmed, thinking of his family in Shpeth and his daughter in Tsangia. Had the deities reached them already?
Master Tull, Master Ursa, and the rest of their party, Abram sent. They said they were going on a mission to protect Shpeth and the towns in the path of the army, but . . . they never intended to come back.
“By the One!” Kadar exclaimed, and then he realized he’d spoken out loud. “Abram says Masters Tull and Ursa dead,” he told the surprised elders.
Were they attacked? Kadar asked.
No, Abram said. They sacrificed themselves. They learned how to change the waymarkers at the oases, but they had to kill themselves to do so. They changed three of the markers leading to Shpeth. They were my mentors, my friends. But they died to protect our families.
“They sacrificed themselves,” Kadar told the elders. “They changed the waymarkers with blood magic so the deities will not be able to attack Shpeth.”
The elders murmured among themselves.
“We will honor them, along with our fallen warriors,” Talin said gravely. “Who has the new words of power for the waymarkers at those oases?”
Three warriors of the One, Abram told Kadar, after he’d relayed Talin’s query. It will take some time for the new words to be shared among all our people. The warriors of the One travel to the caravan route that enters the Sands on the west side. Have the Tigu army meet us so we can plan the next step together.
“But how will the army of the deities proceed through the desert?” Talin asked. “Without a guide through the Sands, they will be forced to turn back. The Chosen still need them to arrive at the Obsidian Temple—who will lead them there?”
Abram said, The warriors of the One will choose someone who knows the route and let the deities “capture” him or her.
The elders nodded in resignation as Kadar relayed this.
“Tell them we will meet them on the western edge of the Sands,” Talin said.
Be safe, Kadar, Abram said. Have you spoken to cousin Sulis recently? She is worse than a mother, nagging to learn more about you. Please talk to her. The Chosen at the temple have been through a great deal. She asked me to tell you to contact her when you can.
I will, thank you, Kadar sent. You stay safe as well.
Kadar was too exhausted from the ride and his farspeaking to get in touch with Sulis, so he and Amber found the Sepacu cook fire instead.
Onyeka met him with a plate of sliced meat and a mug of ale. “We will honor our fallen this evening,” she told him. “Jaiden just told me the Sepacus will shadow the army and report their position and numbers while the rest of the tribes travel to meet up with the warriors of the One. So it looks like we will part again.”
“We honor more than only our warriors,” Kadar said, and he filled her in on the masters’ sacrifices.
She was silent as Kadar ate, lost in her own thoughts. When he’d finished and set his plate down, she took his hands.
“There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?” she asked.
“The warriors of the One will need someone to guide the deities to the Obsidian Temple now that the path to Shpeth is closed to them and they cannot find a guide there. They will need someone who knows the caravan routes, the Northern language, and the words for the waymarkers.”
Onyeka gazed into his eyes a moment. “You will volunteer,” she said.
Kadar nodded. “I will no longer be necessary as the go-between because the elders will be with the warriors of the One. My cousin can continue to speak with the Chosen. I know the routes. I even know one of the Voices, the Voice of Parasu, and have taken classes with him. I have a plan that differs from that of the warriors of the One. Rather than having the deities capture me, I believe that with some mind blocks I can convince the deities that I have defected and get them to trust me.”
“Why would the deities believe this?” Onyeka asked. “If this Voice of Parasu knows you at all, he will know your loyalty to the South.”
“But he also knows my bond with my sister. If I could convince them that the warriors of the One sacrificed my sister . . .”
“Then they would think you were out of your mind with grief,” Onyeka said, nodding. “You would do anything for revenge if Sulis was murdered.”
“I need a more detailed plan,” Kadar said. “But yes, that is the essence.”
Onyeka nodded and looked down, clasping his hands between hers. She looked up, determination in her eyes. “You make me proud,” she said. “Such glory you ride to! We will think of a plan to tell them, between us. One that will allow you to do honor to your tribe and still return to me whole.”
Kadar laughed softly and leaned forward to kiss her. “I should have realized you’d understand,” he said. “I know I am not a fighter like you. But I know when the tribes need me and I would like to make you proud. But I need you to make me a promise,” he said, and she turned to him, her face serious. “If I die, I want you to visit Datura, when she is old enough to understand. I want you to tell her what I did and why I had to leave her. Make her understand that I left because I loved her and wanted to protect her. I did not abandon her without a thought.”
Onyeka nodded. “You are always thinking of her and speaking of her. If you do not return, she will know this. I will tell her what glory you gave her name.”
They almost missed saying goodbye in the flurry of packing the next day, as he helped the elders and she organized her fighters. He had mounted and was looking around frantically for her when Asfar snorted. He glanced behind to find her galloping up.
They leaned over their saddles and kissed breathlessly, and then were pulled apart by their restive mounts.
“Here,” she said, pressing something into his hand. Before he could respond, she’d turned and galloped to her tribe.
Kadar opened his hand to find a bracelet, woven of beads and hair. He suspected she’d mingled her short black hair with the lighter, longer hairs from her horse’s tail, to create something long enough to fit around his wrist.
“I see I was wrong,” Turo said as Kadar fumbled to tie the bracelet on his wrist. “You have captured my daughter’s heart.” He looked more closely. “And you have captured her horse’s heart as well, it seems.”
Kadar laughed with him as they rode into the Sands, leaving the shifting dunes to sweep over the flat impressions of the camp.
Tori, Sandy, and Shane swept into Illian on the heels of the Voices exiting the city, with twenty-five of the Descendants acting as escorts. The soldiers at the gate summoned their Knight when faced with three Counselors of the One. He questioned them about their party, but their feli and gold robes afforded them a large retinue.
“We’ve had more pilgrims from far northern temples and towns coming in recently than is normal,” the Knight mused.
“That’s thanks to us, I’m afraid,” Tori said. “More will probably be coming. They decided our elevation to Counselor was a sign that they need to do a pilgrimage. I worry about their safety, though.”
“Why?” the Knight asked.
Sandy answere
d him. “Near the turnoff to the town of Stonycreek, a large group was forming. It was mostly Forsaken and Southerners. They were armed and seemed ready to begin a march on Illian.”
The Knight exchanged a grim glance with his soldiers. “Could you see how many were in this group?” he asked.
Shane shook his head. “They were camped in the forest as well as on the road. They were trying to conceal their numbers. We put our heads down and left the area as soon as we saw them.”
“You were wise to do so—capturing a Counselor to ransom would be a boon to that rabble. They’ve proven they’ll kill even children to get what they want. We were warned they might organize and march on Illian, with the Voices leaving the city. I thank you for this information. We will be on high alert.”
“But will you send someone out to make certain our pilgrims are safe?” Tori asked.
“We don’t have the men to do so, Counselor,” he said regretfully. “But we don’t think they’ll bother pilgrims on the road—nothing they could get out of them.”
Tori nodded, acting appeased, and they entered the city. Most of the Southern merchant halls were boarded up with graffiti defacing the outside of their shops. No Southerners appeared in the crowds on the street leading to the Temple.
The Descendants in their group melted away into the city to find lodging and wait for Tori’s signal.
“Do we go to the Temple of the One first and greet Counselor Elida?” Sandy asked.