Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5)

by K. F. Breene

  They were waiting for Shanti.

  She was the ultimate wild card, entirely unpredictable. Things she found so logical were chaos to most, including her own people, and yet her plans always seemed to work. Even nearly succumbing to death in the burnt lands worked to her advantage—she had found him, and grown stronger.

  She was the key, and he was holding her back. He was trying to tame the wildness in her instead of embracing it. He needed to set her free, hold on, and take what came. It was the only way.

  Cayan moved toward the door. “Put the plans in action. We’re leaving.” He paused with his hand on the cold metal of the handle. “And Daniels…”

  The graying man looked up.

  “We’ll head to the Mugdock lands first. We need to clean out that infestation and then plant some eyes there in case they come back.”

  Two incredibly short days later, armed men waited at the gates of the city at dawn, ready to ride out and cut down the enemy. Preparing had been a hectic affair, all while the enemy was growing in size outside the walls. They hadn’t attacked, though. A few had ventured closer each day, and each had been brought down by a well-aimed arrow.

  “I had no idea you were this ready,” Shanti said from beside Cayan. “This horse is too tame, though. It does run, right?”

  Cayan glanced at her warhorse, one of the best they had. It waited under her patiently, as it was supposed to do. Her own wild horse would have to stay behind. The gash in its chest wasn’t life-threatening, but would severely hinder taking a rider. “Ideally, I would’ve loved to stay within the city and somehow also beat Xandre, but that wasn’t logical. We’ve been preparing for this day since we took our city back.”

  Cayan glanced behind him and saw Sanders walk up the line of horses. His Commander paused at the mare bearing Alena. He said a couple words Cayan couldn’t hear, nodded, and continued. “I worry about taking such inexperienced people.”

  Shanti followed his gaze before checking her weapons. “Ruisa was more inexperienced. It’ll be fine.”

  Ruisa hadn’t been his choice, either. It had been Burson’s.

  “We’re ready, sir.” Sanders threw a leg over his horse’s saddle.

  Cayan braced. There were so many ways this could go wrong.

  He looked at the men and women lining the walls. The Shadow he was leaving behind stood firm and ready, their power unyielding and their viciousness unmatched. They’d protect this land as their own—hearing Sonson speaking with them had confirmed that. Their home would be protected.

  Cayan had to make a move. There was no other way.

  “Let’s hope there’s no one waiting just outside our mental range.” Cayan looked up at Commander Sterling, who was watching for Cayan’s signal. Cayan nodded.

  “Open the gates!” Sterling put his hand in the air for the archers.

  “He’s testing you,” Shanti said for what seemed like the millionth time in the last two days. “He’s waiting to see how long it’ll take you to engage.”

  “Xandre couldn’t possibly be willing to sacrifice this many men.” Cayan tightened his grip on the reins.

  “We only saw one higher-ranked officer. Just one. I bet these men aren’t his best stock.” Shanti stared down at her horse again. “I never thought I’d be sorry that I had complete control of a horse. It’s boring.”

  “The things you bitch about,” Sanders growled.

  A wave of expectation assaulted Cayan as they waited. Horses started to fidget. The grind of the gate echoed off the buildings behind them.

  “No movement,” Sterling said from the wall.

  The enemy minds that were awake remained idle. They obviously couldn’t see the gates opening, and without mental ability, they couldn’t feel Cayan’s people gearing up.

  “Strike fast, kill quickly.” Shanti took her sword from its sheath. “If there is someone waiting beyond our range, we don’t want to be half-dead with fatigue when we face them.”

  A flare of ready came from the south gate, followed quickly with the west.

  “Why is Sayas’ team taking so long?” Shanti turned as if she could see across the city.

  The last flare filled Cayan’s awareness. “Move out!” He urged his horse forward, walking until he was out of the gate, and then started to trot.

  Shanti fell behind immediately.

  “Kick its sides!” Sanders shouted.

  “I did!”

  “S’am, you’re doing it wrong!” Gracas said.

  Bursts of what Cayan could only describe as realization rose up from the enemy, followed by confusion, rage, thrill, and action. This was not a synchronized army, but they knew battle was coming. Right now.

  “Charge!” Cayan shouted, sword in hand.

  Shanti was beside him a moment later, and the others fanned out behind. Trees whipped by as the enemy scrambled, probably only starting to realize what was happening when it was too late. The thunder of hooves soon competed with shouts and yells as they penetrated the beginning of the enemy lines.

  An arrow zipped by from behind before striking a black uniform mid-chest. Another caught an enemy in the arm. Up ahead the Graygual camp was a frenzy of activity, men stuffing their arms into protective tunics as they rushed for their horses, while others ran forward with bows in hand.

  “Cut ’em down!” Cayan burst into the center of their camp with his sword already in motion. He sliced through a black uniform as his Gift rolled before him, not strong enough to kill, but enough to immobilize. Men screamed. More power struck to the sound of louder screams, making men sink to the ground.

  “Take them out,” Shanti yelled as she jumped from her horse. She descended on a cowering group who held their heads in agony. Rohnan dropped down beside her, his staff twirling in his hands.

  Cayan directed his horse through the tents, catching a man with two stripes as he ran. Two more sprinted away, one with his shirt only half on. They were not preparing to fight—they were running for their lives. These must’ve been the militia Kallon was talking about.

  A figure jumped out from behind a tent with an arrow swinging upward. Cayan kicked his horse, making it lurch forward, trampling the man. He took his own bow and nocked an arrow before turning in his saddle, away from the running men. He loosed toward someone with three stripes running at one of the Shadow’s backs.

  His horse neighed as Cayan tugged the reins to the right, running out of the cluster of tents, aiming for another group. He released an arrow, catching a man running at him on a finely bred horse. To his right, a man fell from his saddle, an arrow in the side of his neck. Alena emerged from the trees, quickly nocking another arrow.

  Great shot.

  Spirals of fear announced the presence of enemy from the side, hidden in the trees. Flushing them out was quick and easy, but as Cayan stared down the length of his arrow at the two dirty and terrified men, he couldn’t relax his fingers for the kill shot. He couldn’t cut down two men who might not have had any other option but to join the Graygual army. They probably didn’t even know why they were fighting, or who. They were just trying to survive. Like Shanti was.

  “Damn it!” Cayan dropped the bow before yanking on the reins. That decision might very well be the death of him in the end, but he wouldn’t sacrifice his humanity. If he did that, he would lose no matter the outcome of the war.

  His bow sang at the sight of the next multi-striped Graygual. Then the next. They came at him with three or four stripes, straight-faced and hollowed-eyed. A sword-wielding blond warrior exploded from the trees to his right, aiming for two Graygual on foot. They faced him with fierce expressions before the Shadow hacked down at them, catching one before his upswing caught the other.

  Behind him ran a riderless wild horse. It whinnied before it ran on, the white bandage around its chest peeling away in places. Shanti’s horse had gotten free somehow, and followed everyone out of the city. The thing was crazy, but it had possibly saved her life in their charge. Cayan would give it a lot of allowa
nce for that.

  A black-clad man ran from the trees, bow at the ready. Without warning, a streak of black lunged, white teeth flashing before they clamped down on the man’s jugular. Another of the great cats gave its feline roar, joining in the kill.

  Panting, with sweat glistening from their brows and blood dripping from their swords, Cayan’s army slowed, looking for more.

  The enemy were either running in terror all around the city, or dying. Few were left after such a short time. The enemy had been largely unprepared. Shanti was right—they were here to test Cayan’s resolve. One or two officers were likely to have escaped to make a report of their findings, while the lower-tiered men would die. The question was, where were those officers headed?

  He hoped it was to the Mugdock lands. If so, he’d see them soon.

  6

  “Woman, you are not holding that right.”

  Alena jumped as Kallon drifted out of the trees like a phantom. The Shumas came out of nowhere. All of them were so quiet, even when traveling through dry leaves. She knew they’d blend into the bright green of spring as easily as the dull gray of winter, even those with bright blond hair. It was crazy.

  She was a little envious, if she was being honest.

  “This is how I was taught.” Alena frowned at the bow, as if that would reveal the answer to the problem. She glanced at the sky, annoyed that the sun was sinking and taking the last of the day’s light. They’d traveled all day, nearing the horrible Mugdock lands. They’d reach the border sometime tomorrow, and a battle might come soon after.

  Butterflies took over her stomach as the striking blond man came to stand right in front of her. His hair fell around his face in a wave, accenting strong cheekbones in a chiseled face. He was incredibly handsome, not just striking. If it hadn’t been for his stormy eyes, so haunted and riddled with pain, he’d probably have set her panties on fire. As it was, his dangerous edge had her body tingling in a way that wasn’t entirely pleasant.

  Mostly.

  “I j-just…” She jerked her bow up and scowled down at it, trying to rid herself of the stammer. “I thought I was doing it right.”

  His intent gaze surveyed her for a moment before his hand drifted out from his side to the bow. Electricity crackled as his warm hand graced hers. She flinched and dropped the bow. Her arrow tumbled to the dirt.

  “You are jumpy.” He bent to the bow and arrow, picking them up with graceful movements. He held them out. “Take them. I’ll show you.”

  “Yup. Oh-kay.” Face on fire, she took the bow and held it as she was taught, only shaking a little more. The man was rattling her. He was just so intense.

  He stepped to the side and waited. She fitted the arrow and pulled back, sighting. As she had been taught since childhood, she let her mind go blank. Her breathing came even and slow. She zeroed in on the red splotch in the middle of the target, ignoring all else. Trying to block out the wind ruffling her hair and the heat of the man standing a little too close.

  She let go at the same time as blinking. That meant she’d also jerked just a tiny bit. “Dang it!”

  The arrow was at the edge of the target, just as she’d suspected. “I’m better in the middle of battle. Or action. Just standing here…I think I’m too caught in my head.”

  Tingles worked down her back again as the man surveyed her. “You are trying too hard. You are not giving in to it. Are you a virgin?”

  “What?” she sputtered.

  “In sex, there is a point where you can give in totally. Have you been to that point?”

  “That’s… This…” She moved a step away and circled the air with her pointer finger. “That’s none of your business.”

  His eyes sparkled but the sentiment didn’t reach his lips. He barely nodded. “Let’s see.”

  “No!” Alena flinched away. “I barely know you!”

  This time the corners of his lips pulled, hinting at a smile. “Let’s see you hold the bow again.”

  “Oh.” She tossed her head, which would’ve looked a lot better if her hair had been tied in a bun and therefore unable to flick behind her shoulder. “Okay, then.”

  She raised the bow a second time and quickly reached back for an arrow, but stopped when she felt strong fingers wrap around her wrist. “Wait,” he said.

  He moved her arm back in front of her. “Speed is good, but technique is better. Do not move faster than your experience level. It will cripple you in the end.”

  “You speak our language well,” she blurted.

  “Yes. Now, try again.”

  Biting her lip, she reached back slowly, feeling his direction as she did so. The change was minute, barely more than a flare of her elbow, but it felt so much smoother. Like a greased machine instead of a rusty one. “Weird.”

  “Try again.”

  She reached back, feeling his hand directing her. “It feels smoother when I do it your way, but at the same time, it feels like I am reaching wider somehow. Like it’ll take longer. It’s not the shortest distance between my bow and the quiver.”

  “You are not using your muscle groups properly. You are thinking too much. Learn to listen to your body. Feel. Try again.”

  Alena didn’t just try again—with his instruction and patience, she must’ve reached back ten more times, before being instructed to keep trying. “I think I have it,” she finally said.

  “Yes. Your form is perfect. But to remain perfect, you need to teach your body. You are still thinking. When you stop thinking, you will have it. Let’s see you shoot.”

  Alena’s sigh was a little too loud. Her arm was growing tired from all the reaching.

  She sighted, and then let her mind go blank. Her breath evened out, and then came quickly again when deft fingers danced across her shoulders.

  “You are too tight through here.” He tapped her shoulder muscles.

  She tried to relax, but he was standing really close. He didn’t have the same respect for personal space as her people did. And also, he smelled really good. Like wild forest and springtime.

  “Okay.” Alena dropped her bow and stepped away. “Can you just…wait over there?”

  “If you would prefer.” He took two smooth steps away.

  This time, with relaxed shoulders, she focused on her breath. She blocked out the breeze and tried to settle into the shot.

  The hand on her shoulder made her jump. She hadn’t even heard him walk closer!

  “You are blocking your surroundings. That is dangerous in battle.” Kallon stepped in front of her again, his eyes sweeping her face. “Mela noted that your people are trained incorrectly in that regard. It can be mastered, doing as you do, but it is so much harder, and shortsighted. Your Captain does not use this approach. Your commanders don’t. Yet everyone still tries to train with it. It seems those with natural ability find the best way, while those without stand in line to get killed.”

  Alena frowned. That was a harsh thing to say. Surely there was some stock in their training if they could produce the army they had.

  “Try again.” He stepped around her, his body nearly touching hers as he stood to the side.

  She pulled back the string, sighted, and paused while he adjusted her elbow. His hands applied pressure to the side of her hips, turning her a fraction.

  “Mela approved of my posture.” Not to mention that when she’d adjusted her body, it had been in a more formal way.

  “Mela wasn’t noticing what I am noticing. You are beautiful. I want to drink in the sight of you. Vulnerable and fierce at the same time. Chulan was like that, once. We all were. I barely remember.”

  “That’s… This is…” Alena felt like she was trying to swallow a boiled egg. “You aren’t helping.”

  “I am distracted.” Kallon touched her elbow again. His fingers grazed her hips. “Look at the target.”

  The red splotch swam into view, but her shoulders would not relax. Her breath came unevenly. This was not helping.

  “Release.”


  A blast of awareness tore through her a moment before she did as instructed. In that brief time, she saw the red; she felt her body; she noticed the strength of the wind and the sweet smell of his breath. Most importantly, in that brief moment, her body went fluid and reacted to the task at hand. She didn’t think, she just did.

  The fletching quivered in the middle of the target.

  “Oh wow.” Kallon forgotten, Alena dropped the bow in surprise. “I was not ready to release when you said release, and then I just did, and…wow.”

  “You think too hard. Do not block out your surroundings; become one with them. Accept them into you. If a man is sounding his death scream at your side, hear it. Let his suffering wash over you, and then leave. React through it, not around it. You can save the nightmares for after.”

  “That’s…helpful…” Or horrifying, she wasn’t sure which.

  “You are a natural.” He moved in front of her again. His eyes delved into hers, making her feel uncomfortable. “Before you release, think of me. Maybe that will help.”

  “I don’t…” She nearly pushed him away. This was becoming a little overbearing. “I don’t know about that. But thanks for your help.”

  She was walking before she even knew where she was going. Before she was out of earshot, she heard Mela’s voice. “You came on a little strong. These people are not so bold.”

  Mela had been in the area and Alena hadn’t even noticed. They could all have been there for all she knew. With Kallon in her personal space, and touching her—he was really distracting. The whole people were really distracting, including S’am. She gave a look when she was in fighting mode and everything Alena was thinking dried up right before a warning in her body urged her to run.

  Alena had a long way to go before she was as battle hardened as the Shumas. In a way, she hoped she never made it there. She hoped this would all end peacefully somehow.

  Her scoff was lost to the approaching darkness. Fat chance.

  Shanti sat high in a tree away from the camp, reveling in the silence of nature, interrupted only by Gracas and Leilius creeping closer. She picked at a leaf, and then tore it apart before letting the wind blow it from her hands.