by K. F. Breene
“Why do you think we have such a great army, Junice? The Duke’s men couldn’t keep up with our guys. And do you know why?”
Junice paused in her doctoring. “Because we breed strong men,” Junice recited.
“Exactly. We breed strong men. We give birth to them, we mold them, we shape them, and then we hand the Captain a warrior half formed. We do all the hard work; all he has to do is put a sword in their hand and show them how to use it.”
Junice laughed. “You’re starting to sound like Molly.”
“A lot of us are. If there is one thing the women of this city know, it’s quiet strength. Someone has to keep those bullheaded men in line!”
“Yes. I know something about bullheaded men.”
“Ow!” Alena sucked a breath through her teeth as Junice dabbed her face. “That salve stings.”
“Speaking of quiet strength—you could use a heavy dose of both…”
“I still don’t know why the Women’s Circle gave me this job,” Alena complained. “I think they must hate me.”
“Lucius is still trying to hold strong, huh?”
“Obviously. I don’t think they’d bother bringing me in if he wasn’t. The Hunter is calculating that way. It seems like he’s only nice, or only mean, to manipulate. His smiles aren’t genuine, and he never shows anger. It’s…”
“Terrifying.”
Alena grimaced. “Unpredictable.”
“Exactly. Which is terrifying.” Junice put a bandage over the cut on Alena’s knee. “As to why you, you’re the toughest of Lucius’ ex-loves. He knows you well. It hurts him more when you’re in pain.”
“He dumped me, actually. Or don’t you remember when I lost it and destroyed his house?”
Junice smirked. “That was years ago.”
“I don’t know why we don’t just tell him to do as he’s told. If he knew what we were plotting, he’d go along with it.”
“And if he just went along with it, the Hunter would wonder why. No, this is the best way.”
“Just my luck.” Alena sagged against the table.
“My only fear is that the Captain falls into the Hunter’s trap before we’ve done our part. The Hunter is supposed to always be one step ahead of his enemies.”
Alena reached over and covered Junice’s hand with her own. “The Hunter will think he’s one step ahead, but what he’ll really be is distracted. We’ll be the snake in the grass. We just have to stay the course.”
“I hope you’re right.” Junice picked up her needlepoint, her brow knotted in worry again.
“I am.” Alena sincerely wished she felt as confident as she sounded.
Chapter Four
“How do you know?” Shanti sat beside a rigid and silent Cayan, facing Portolmous as he sat behind his desk. Sonson’s brother and the second in command after the Shadow Lord, his face was grim. He’d just told them that the Graygual had moved into Cayan’s city and taken everyone hostage.
“Burson put it in his weekly report.” Portolmous handed the folded letter across the desk. Cayan reached for it slowly—his hands were steady, but his eyes were on fire.
“And how does he know?” Sonson asked, standing by the window with a solemn expression.
“One of the men in his Wanderer network traded with Westwood Lands a couple weeks ago. He was trading water treatment agents. Apparently, there is a bad stomach flu going around the Captain’s city. Two things stood out, of course. The first was that it’s unlikely that a people wouldn’t suddenly have an issue with their water. But someone foreign to that area might. The second was that this person moved and had all the mannerisms of a Graygual officer. They don’t move and act like a normal trader would.”
“So Burson isn’t certain, he’s speculating,” Shanti clarified.
“Yes.” Portolmous clasped his hands on the desk. “But that, combined with sightings of a large host of Graygual headed in the general direction of the city, would indicate that he is right.”
“Yes, it would,” Shanti mumbled, her mind whirling.
Cayan gave voice to her thoughts. “It seems the Hunter isn’t in hiding, he’s laying in wait.”
She turned to look at him slowly, trying not to feel the guilt eating away her insides. It was hard, though. She’d told him his city would be safe. That the Hunter would follow her. And he had. He’d done what Shanti had expected…until she’d stopped expecting anything at all. She hadn’t thought far enough ahead. She was still thinking like she was the only one on this journey, making her focus singular and shortsighted.
She dropped her shaking head.
“There are other matters to discuss,” Portolmous said in a tight voice.
Shanti looked up in confusion, seeing that his hard stare was aimed at her.
“We have reports,” Portolmous started. “Not all the Wanderer’s heralds are in Burson’s network. Of the pockets of people rising up against the Graygual, the most effective advocates are light of feature and far from home. They’ve said they are looking to join the Chosen. Always the Chosen, they say. Not the Wanderer. With each town they help, or each time they dodge the Graygual, they plant themselves more firmly into legend. They are bolstering Burson’s network like no one else…except you.”
Shanti met his stare with her own, not sure why this should anger him. He’d known Shanti wanted a bird sent. Originally the Shadow Lord was going to take care of this, but after Shanti had talked it over with Cayan, new plans were formed. None of this was a secret.
Portolmous’ jaw tightened. “The Graygual have been mostly complacent about these small uprisings. Our thought was that they expected it with the news of the Chosen. But now…this has created a different atmosphere.”
“Have they been sighted?” Shanti asked in an even voice, the desire to see her people so strong it dripped through her stomach like acid.
“A handful of times. They make good time. Amazing time, given the distance from your home land to their most recent sighting…”
Shanti shook her head in irritation. “I explained this to the Shadow Lord. A select group of my people hid during the last battle. We knew Xandre’s armies would be too much, so I chose the best and brightest to hide themselves away until they were needed. Just as I had to flee capture, they had to escape from death. After everything settled, they snuck out in order to station themselves in remote locations, waiting for the call to arms. At least…that was the plan. Until this news, I didn’t know if they had made it.”
“And you have directed them to the Captain’s lands.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well invite them here. There was no guarantee that we would be here when they turned up,” Shanti said with a flash of anger. “What are you getting at, Portolmous?”
“The Graygual have taken an interest in these so-called heralds. They want this band found and killed. They’re also taking more interest in the other bands of rebels cropping up all over. In short, the Graygual are starting to react on a larger scale.”
“We knew that would happen eventually,” Shanti countered.
“Not so soon, though. It’s shortening our time to get organized.”
“Wars aren’t planned with a timetable,” Cayan said, standing. “They are a game of cause and effect. Is that everything you have? I need to talk to my men.”
Portolmous stood as well, staring at Cayan with intelligent green eyes. “Wars aren’t planned with timetables, no, but when someone such as Burson gives them to you, it’s best to listen. He said you should wait—not to act right away. He said that would greatly improve the chances of success.”
“Noted. Now, excuse me.” Cayan glanced at Shanti before striding from the room.
She looked at Portolmous. “Can you be ready any sooner?”
Pity entered Portolmous’ eyes. “No. I’m getting our people ready as fast as I can, but you are talking about massive relocation. It takes more than a few months.”
“We’ll have some people at your disposal.” Sonson dropped
his hand to the hilt of his sword. He gave his brother a look of warning. Portolmous’ mouth snapped shut. “Planning is great, but sometimes action is better.”
Sonson looked back at Shanti. “Whoever we can spare, we will. Just let me know what you plan.”
Shanti gave him a nod of gratitude before she walked from the room. She crossed the city quickly, using her Gift to track Cayan to Sanders’ quarters. A few of Cayan’s men were already there looking up at their leader with the same fire in their eyes.
“When do we leave?” Tobias asked, his furry brow raised in expectation.
“Now, obviously. Tonight.” Sanders paced at the back of the room. “They’d better have a ship available.”
“Burson said in his letter that we’d benefit from waiting a month,” Cayan said carefully. “He says it will be a trifecta. Our chances will be better.”
“A trifecta, sir?” Tobias squinted in confusion.
“I take that to mean that he expects three groups of people converging together—or near enough.”
“I don’t give two shits about a trifecta.” Sanders stopped pacing and stared at Cayan. “Burson is a few bricks short of a house if he thinks I’m going to sit around here, playing at swords, when my wife is in danger. No way, sir. It’s time to go.”
Cayan nodded and glanced at Daniels. The older man, sitting regally in the back of the room, sat forward. His gaze was contemplative. “As devil’s advocate, Burson has always been right. Always. His methods are strange, of course, being from his…gifts—”
“Cut to the chase, man,” Sanders barked, temper making his face red.
Daniels’ expression hardened. “It might be a better outcome, like he said, if we waited.”
“It would be a better outcome for whom?” Sanders shot back. “The war, or my wife? Because why are we fighting the Graygual if not to protect our loved ones? No. I’m sorry, sir, but no dice. I will leave this army right now if it means sitting around here for the next month, with our thumbs in our assess, while our family and friends are subjected to the treatment of the Graygual. No fucking way, sir, pardon my language.”
“Why is the Hunter keeping the situation a secret, I wonder?” Marc said from a chair in the corner. When eyes turned his way, he hunched and looked at his hands, scrubbing at his nail.
“He isn’t very well going to alert Shanti that he’s holed up in the city, now is he?” Sanders said, pacing again. “She’d turn up with Shadow and mind power and all sorts of ideas on how to kill them all and get my wife out of this. At least, she’d better.” Sanders shot Shanti a look.
“But—” Marc’s face retracted into his collar like a turtle as Sanders’ gaze swung at him.
“But what, cadet?” Sanders prodded.
“He wants her. And probably the Captain. And I’m sure he must know—oooh.” Marc scrubbed harder at his nail.
Sanders stopped walking and stared at Marc with wide eyes. His face was a dangerous shade of red now. Shanti stepped in. “Say what you have to say, Marc, before Sanders brains you.”
“Oh.” Marc cleared his throat, not looking up. “He probably assumes that if he asked you to trade yourself for our city, you’d want to do it, but all of us would stop you. Right? Because that would save our people for now, but without you and the Captain, we’d all die eventually. We’re a marked city. So trapping you and taking you is probably the safer approach for him.”
“There’s no point in going if we don’t have mental workers,” Cayan said in a low voice. Shanti could feel the pain in him, and also the anger and desperation to get moving. He wanted to leave every bit as badly as Sanders. As she did. But he didn’t get where he was by being hasty.
“There’s you and her,” Tobias said. “You guys rocked the Graygual at the last battle. This wouldn’t be a big deal for you, would it?”
“Everything depends on what he’s got behind those walls,” Shanti said in contemplation as the rest of the Honor Guard came running in, out of breath and wide-eyed. Without a word, they went into the back corner with Marc, clearly knowing they’d be told to leave if they interrupted. Shanti continued, “Using the mind is just like the sword. You’re an excellent fighter, Sanders, and can take five men on alone if they are decent. You can take two if they’re good. One if they are topnotch. Just you against twenty, though…”
“What level of mental assault will the Hunter have gathered, do you think?” Cayan asked.
Shanti braced her hands on her hips. “It’s hard to say. So far, he’s had some of the best. I’ve had a hard time combating them, especially since he knows to keep them in pairs or in groups. But he’s an outcast now. I have no idea what he may still have at his disposal.”
Cayan shook his head and looked out of the window. “We can’t just sit here. I can’t just sit here. Not when my people are in danger. We need to get closer and assess.”
Shanti felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. The Hunter was cunning and ruthless. There was no telling what he would do to Cayan’s people to get what he wanted. She only hoped they weren’t already too late.
Chapter Five
Kallon crouched in the tall grasses with his sword at the ready and his fighting brothers and sisters all connected with a mind link. The horses they’d either stolen or been given were all tied in a cluster of trees just over the hill. In front of him, sitting around a fire with cups in their hands and self-assurance in their bearing, sat a host of Graygual and Inkna.
“We are outnumbered,” Mela said softly, crouched beside him holding two throwing knives. Night had fallen, making everywhere beyond the firelight a hiding spot.
“In number only. Those Inkna are weak, and I doubt the Graygual can match our swords.” Kallon glanced to his right and met eyes with Sayas. His sub-leader’s team was in position. Kallon looked left, finding Tulous. He was ready, too. Expectation buzzed through their merged Gifts.
“Okay, let’s get ready.” Kallon nodded to the others, increasing the buzz of expectation within their merge. He felt a pulse of eagerness. Ready!
He moved out in slow, deliberate steps. Everyone else stepped out at the same time. The half-circle of fighters closed in around those in the firelight, completely unaware. Kallon started to pick up speed, increasing the buzz in their minds. Their Gifts coiled, ready to lash out. He was jogging now, his footfalls slightly louder, but still lost to the unobservant.
A horse, tethered outside the camp, neighed. A few more started giving sounds of unease, stamping hooves and shifting stances.
At last, one of the Graygual glanced up. Kallon couldn’t see his eyes in the low light, but the plane of the Graygual’s face pointed at the horses for a long moment. Kallon could almost see his thought process cranking to life with rusty spokes. The Graygual glanced around.
Kallon started running. The rest followed, shifting to form more of a circle before closing in, suffocating the enemy in perfect synchronization. They surrounded the Graygual before the enemy even knew what was coming.
“Look out!” one yelled, jumping up and ripping out his sword.
Too late. Tanna, excellent with knives and close combat, descended on him. She batted away his weapon with her sword and stuck him through the gut.
A blast of mental pain stabbed at Kallon, then swept around his group. Tulous took point, thrusting a single point of pain at the mind, fracturing it. Sayas frayed the other two Inkna, deadening their thoughts.
Kallon rushed at two Graygual who were standing, their swords not finding their hands nearly fast enough. Kallon pulled out a knife as he struck with his sword, piercing the chest of one. He stabbed the other through the lower neck. Both men buckled to their knees with screams of pain.
Stepping over someone Mela had taken down, Kallon lunged at another, slashing with his knife to clear the man out of his path. He skirted the fire, as he entered their midst, a lethal phantom.
A sword strike came at him. He dodged to the side and then struck. His blade sliced flesh. He was already moving
on.
Dannon, the largest and strongest of their people, grabbed a Graygual throat with his bare hand. He clamped down and tore, ripping flesh. The enemy scream ended in no more than a gurgle.
Kallon dodged Mela, who was making short work of a grungy Graygual, and found their officer. He was hanging back, watching the melee with a cunning stare. Even as Kallon advanced, the officer inched back toward the horses. It was clear leaving was on his mind.
“You’ve forgotten your training,” Kallon said as he advanced.
“It is true. You live.”
“Yes. Were you there? Did you cut my people down?”
Fear worked into the man’s gaze. “I was told to. Those were the orders!”
White-hot rage stole Kallon’s breath for one moment. He felt its mirror race around the merge. Cooling himself, he advanced on this disgusting creature with a sure step. “As I said, you’ve forgotten your training.”
A small crease wormed between the man’s brows. He licked his lips, showing his nervousness. “I haven’t forgotten anything.”
Kallon lunged. His sword tip cut through the air toward the man’s side. The defensive block came too late, and the answering strike was slow and clumsy. In confusion, Kallon stepped back, still in his ready stance. “You weren’t trained as an officer…” He eyed the four stripes on the man’s breast.
The man licked his lips again. He didn’t offer an explanation.
Kallon struck, slicing the Graygual’s other side. “Why do you hold this position?”
A mad gleam lit up the man’s eyes. “Because I took it, that’s why! We were offered women and rewards. I had mine already picked out. They said I could have my pick!” He rushed Kallon, his sword work all over the place.
Ringing steel echoed through the camp, Kallon not doing more than blocking. Panting, the man fell to his knees, floundering.
“How did you kill an officer?” Kallon asked.
The man climbed to his feet painfully. He spat. “We were all promised rewards. They weren’t delivering. So we took what was ours, including this uniform. He wasn’t so good with a blade in his sleep. People do what you say when you wear this uniform. They go along quietly. And when they don’t, you’re free to force them. I can take the rewards due to me now. It’s within my power.”