Warrior Blind

by Calle J. Brookes

  Bronwen felt her embarrassment hit her cheeks. Sometimes Phaenna just loved to push to the real edge of things, didn’t she? “That’s private, don’t you think?”

  “Honey, you are the queen and king. Nothing you ever do is private. Sometime real soon these lovely subjects of yours are going to be demanding the heir be created. But if you keep up the stalling...”

  “Does it show on my face or something?”

  “Nope. But I just know things!” Phaenna sing-songed. “Something different is coming your way, little Bronie! But…not today! Nope. Not today.”

  “Phaenna, if you know something Bronwen needs to hear, please tell her. The constant teasing is a bit wearing on my soul.” Eaudne was tired. Everyone could hear it in her words.

  Bronwen held out a hand to her. Eaudne took it. Bronwen didn’t try to heal the older woman, but she did send comfort through their touching skin.

  “You are a sweet, sweet child, Bronwen. Thank you.”

  “I am glad to do it. Eaudne, you push yourself too much. You need to rest at times.” She suspected some of what drove the older woman. Eaudne was convinced—especially after the attack on Koios that had returned Dek to her—that the sorcerer had targeted Dekimos City. She worked almost endlessly, going back and forth between the healers and the warriors, making sure that all defenses were in place.

  But Eaudne was not a warrior, she was a healer. The idea of fighting and protection would take a toll on a healer’s soul very quickly.

  Bronwen worried for her greatly.

  “Eaudne—”

  Before she could finish her thought, the horns sounded.

  Koios’ call to arms.

  Blowing in the pattern that signaled...

  “The city’s under attack!”

  ***

  Koios was in his office with Dek going over plans to fortify the back river entrances of the city when he heard the horns sound.

  “False alarm?” the Healer asked.

  “No. I have my best men on watch.”

  “Then gather your men, the threat is now.”

  “Earlier than we expected.” Dek had studied the movements of the Dark Sorcerer upon his lands many times over the last millennia and he had shared his findings with Koios.

  They had known there would be an attack on this city. They just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

  A pop! cracked near Koios’ elbow. He turned, ready to face a threat.

  It wasn’t a threat. It was Phaenna. “Better get out there, boys. War comes.”

  “Have you seen them?” She was not supposed to be here; she had been busy preparing a city for refugees almost two hours’ walk away.

  “I do not recognize their Kind. But I think they are mercenaries, though small and scruffy, both in number and size. Not much fun for me to play with today.” The pout was clear in her tone and on her face. For a moment Koios could almost swear he saw the shade of the Beansidhe hovering over her dark skin.

  This Laquazzeana was far from sane, and still terrified the shit out of him, for all that she was now considered an ally.

  “An opening attack?” Koios asked.

  “A sample of what is to come, I think. The dark sorcerer is not with them. He wishes to get a look at your fair city, some day. But not today. There is something inside that he wants. Someone.”

  “Bronwen?”

  Phaenna shook her head. “Though it would satisfy his hunger to take the queen of the city for his pet. He thirsts for vengeance against any and all who have ever slighted him. You did, dear king, when you broke his staff.”

  “You broke the staff of the dark sorcerer? Why was I not told this? How did you do it?” Dek surprise was evident.

  “With my sword. Is that important?” He pulled the blade free and showed the two. It was strong and strange and carrying it felt absolutely right to him.

  “That sword will possess something now. Do not lose it.” Dek’s eyes met his, and Koios thought for only a moment that there was hope in the male’s gaze.

  “Phaenna, who is it he seeks?”

  “He feels and hunts—wants—her soul. The one he has hungered for these thousands of years.”

  “He’s after my mother.”

  Phaenna whistled. “But not today. Today these are mere Rhacshas, here to test your walls. Eaudne’s destiny is not met this day.”

  “Where is she today?” Koios knew Dek kept a close watch over the woman who’d birthed him. Today would be no different.

  “Oh, I just left her. She’s with Bronwen in the center of the city. They are fortifying their healers, preparing for war the way only the healers can. But they do not realize, the dark sorcerer will show healers and injured no consideration like other Kinds do. He will consume the goodness in their souls with great enjoyment. And his power will grow with each one he devours. But he’ll save Bronwen for last, Koios. Because she is Laquazzeana and so very tasty to him. And your mother, Dekki, he has something far darker in mind for her. You two best hurry. Destiny awaits.” This time she giggled loud enough to bounce off the brick chamber. “It awaits for us all!”

  Visit www.callejbrookes.com to read more about the Dardanos, Co. paranormal romance series, and about Calle J.’s

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  The First Book in the

  Dardanos, Co: The Adrastos Series

  The Outcast

  Chapter 1

  WAR came. Like they had predicted it always would. She had no real choice, did she? Her people were being forced out of their homes, she would go with them—she would lead them. There was no other option. The only real choice she had left was in what she could carry in a bag on her back.

  She wouldn’t let any other questions run through her mind. Like where would the people go? They were so outnumbered, they had no true defense in this war. Her people, the lost of the House of Amyenka, were mostly women and children.

  They were already refugees when the orders of the goddess had been granted.

  Three hundred Dardaptoans, all under the age of one hundred, with more children than grown men and women, all poor, all hungry, all so pitiful. And they were all hers.

  She was one of the lucky ones, though she did not feel it so. She at least had more than a single change of clothing, had some coin of the human world—had some food. So many of the children she knew were so hungry. The females of her people did the best they could to gather enough for the children, but the world in which they lived was so inhospitable to the young of their Kind.

  Havalana Amyenka shoved what little possessions she had into the bag she had sewn with her own hands more than a decade ago. A book of her people’s histories, a doll her mother had given her before her death, her spare vestis and pardus, and her spare shoes. Her coin purse, she tucked deep into the pockets of pardus she wore. That was something she could not afford to lose.

  She did not know where the goddess’s edict would find her people, and she would need something with which to barter—or buy what they needed.

  She stepped outside the small wooden structure that had served as her home for the last two years. It had no frills—why would they be needed in this world? —but it had served her well these years.

  But she had learned long ago not to develop sentimental attachments for personal things.

  Her home was no bigger than any of the others in the small village. She was no different than those who chose to follow her, after all. She was deserving of no special treatment, though sometimes the people tried.

  She was an Amyenka, after all. And these people had been trained from birth to follow an Amyenka. Even when that Amyenka was bad. Evil, as her brother was.

  The people she led were gathering in the center of the village. It was there she headed. One hundred seventy-eight children, eighty-three women, and forty-nine men made up her tribe, and Lana was responsible for every single one. She did not take that responsibility lightly.

  She also did not dare sho
w her fear. She nodded at the five people who she considered her top advisors. They stood waiting for her decision, though most of the tribe understood that the only choice that they truly had was to follow the edict of the goddess’s emissary.

  Lana planned to implore that goddess directly. Her people could not go unprotected from her brother in a new world.

  He would strike them all down, even the youngest infant, for their leaving his tribe. Her, he would stake out in the midst of everyone to watch as she slowly bled to death for her treason.

  This was after he spent days torturing her.

  She had no illusions of brotherly love from him. If Ragner spotted her, she’d be dead. Period.

  Chapter 2

  MARCOS Adrastos swung the blade he carried, deliberately catching the light so that it reflected amongst the people of his tribe. “I say we stand and defend our world and our home. How can we do else?”

  The Wolf before him glared. “You can do no else than follow the goddess responsible for your very existence. She has ordered it, and even a warrior such as you must obey. Seek you special dispensation to bend the rules? What make you special?”

  “I am a warrior, as you say, wolf. I can fight to defend. I do not cower in the face of vague threat.”

  “It is not vague threat. It is a certainty. War comes to this world, and with the humans we must take extra care to prevent discovery. My female has decreed her people join her in our Levia, and so that is where you shall go.”

  Marcos didn’t have to like it, but he would do it. For even an Adrastos warrior had been trained to follow the goddess of their people. And it wasn’t as if he was truly challenged in this human world any more. Maybe a new world would bring new challenge.

  He’d fought every battle he could find in five hundred years, and even for one of his family, boredom with war had taken hold of him. And he knew the same could be said for the fifteen hundred men and women who followed his guidance. They’d broken off from his family line more than two hundred years ago, the old ways of their elders serving them not well at all.

  And they had chosen to follow him, the second son of the Adrastos Dhar.

  “When is this relocation to take place?”

  “In three hours for those going to Levia, and home of the goddess.”

  “There is another choice?”

  “The demon world of Relaklonos has offered some Dardaptoans sanctuary.”

  Marcos hadn’t expected that. Lesser demons had hunted his people for centuries. “Kind of stupid, isn’t that?”

  The Wolf god did not like to be challenged, and when he held up a hand, Marcos hit the ground and couldn’t move. “Best remember that you speak to a god, boy. I can kill you without struggle.”

  Yeah, Marcos would probably need to remember that. When the hold upon him lessened, he stood. “Relaklonos?”

  “The new high queen is the Chief Healer of the Dardanos tribe. All Dardaptoans entering Relaklonos are afforded the High King’s vow of protection.”

  “The Colorado tribe?” He knew it well. Or he had. His brother was one of the tribe’s highest ranking assholes. And he thought he had a sister there somewhere, too. It was hard to keep up—he had between fourteen and twenty siblings, last he’d heard. And none had been raised by too great of parents, so they weren’t exactly close.

  “You know it?”

  “I’m related to a few.”

  The Wolf god studied him for a long moment. “So you are. Relaklonos would suit your people best. You have forty minutes to gather your people and all that you will need in this new world.”

  “Cutting it kind of close, isn’t it?” He’d trained his people in packing light, in be ready to evacuate whatever camp they occupied. But forty minutes was pushing it.

  “Take it or leave it.” The Wolf’s expression turned sly. “Unless you choose the world of Levia. No battles have raged there in more than four thousand years…”

  “And the rest of the Adrastos tribe? My father’s people? Which world have they chosen?”

  “They have not yet been approached, but they are not getting an option. It is Relaklonos for them.”

  Bet that would burn the old bastard. His father viewed demons as no more than offal. To be forced to live and fight amongst them would be akin to a sentence in the Three Hells. “Love to be a fly on the wall when that happens.”

  “Gather your people. I will escort you through to the demon world. I have business there. Once you arrive, see the High King. He will ask your name, how many people you lead, and will give you direction to the city in which you can set up your home.”

  “This is expected to be a long term thing, isn’t it?” Marcos dropped all posturing. Something in the deity’s eyes told him that more was at stake than what had already been spoken. “What is truly going on?”

  “A war is coming, a war of many worlds. There is a gathering of the Kinds. Of our best warriors. Many of your people will be needed. Every warrior counts. And must be counted.”

  “We will be ready.”

  And they would. It was the Adrastos way.

  **

  Less than an hour later Marcos was in the last place he’d ever expected to be. His people waited on the outskirts of a damned demon castle; confused, but trusting him to guide them well.

  Sometimes responsibility sucked.

  He’d not been raised to be a Dhar. That had always been his father’s path, and his oldest brother, had Aodhan not abdicated more than four hundred years ago. It had pissed the old guy off to no end when Marcos had thrown it in his face that he would not be staying in South America with his father’s people, either.

  The last thing he’d heard his father was still ruling their people in the old ways, and had fathered at least six more sons since Marcos had left. Old bastard would get his heir one way or another.

  While Marcos still hadn’t found his female anywhere. He somehow doubted he ever would find her. And if he did, so what? What kind of decent Dardaptoan female would have a crude bastard like him? Even if the goddess stuck them together, his Rajni would probably take one look at him and head for the hills. And he wouldn’t blame her. He wasn’t exactly a model Dardaptoan, by any means.

  He’d never tried to be.

  He walked with the Wolf god into the castle’s main lobby. People were everywhere. People and demons, adults and children, everywhere Marcos looked there was a body or four. Many were dressed in vestis and pardus, accented with the hasha scarves that denoted just what tribe of Dardaptoan they belonged to. He absently fingered the band wrapped around his own forehead. His hasha was Adrastos turquoise, with a band of black running down the center. Denoting his separation from the main branch of his people. He wore the dishonor proudly.

  He didn’t want anyone in any land tying him to the Adrastos of old.

  “So where’s this High King?”

  “He’s waiting in the people’s courtyard.”

  “So what’s this guy like? He some super powerful boogeyman?”

  “He is a powerful male. But I’ve met more powerful.”

  Sure the Wolf god had. Weren’t the ruling class of demons just as strong as the damned deities of his own world? Somehow Marcos remembered reading that or hearing that little tidbit somewhere. Bet that did burn the Wolf god. Damned dog seemed a bit arrogant.

  Marcos liked him.

  “So, do I need to bow? What’s the protocol for meeting a demon king? His female? A prince or princess?”

  “Treat them with the respect you’d show a dhar and dahn.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “There are flesh eating demons on this world. I’m sure Malickus could find some to introduce you to if needed.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He’d killed a few dozen of those flesh eating demons in his day. He wasn’t eager to fight them again.

  “Here.” The Wolf pushed open the heavy doors to a small courtyard. There was a crowd gathered by a grotto. A small dais was nearby. A male demon sat upon
it, a blonde female at his side. The king and queen of Relaklonos?

  There were other people on the dais; a big blue creature the size of Ohio, and a chestnut-haired woman dressed in the white of Dardaptoan royalty.

  The guy—high king? —stood when the Wolf god approached. “Lupoi.”

  “Malickus. How fares your family?”

  “Quite well. Yours?”

  “Beautiful.”

  The blonde female spoke, and Marcos confirmed she was Dardaptoan by the tell-tale hiss through tiny fangs. “And my daughter and grandchildren?”

  “Cathdun has started to crawl this week, dear girl. His sister and mother do well. Jierra wished me to convey that she and the babes will be visiting at this week’s end. Now she is busy with her school.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I have brought you some more Dardaptoans to take census of.”

  “More?” Malickus asked. “We are up to nearly one hundred thousand of Gaian Dardaptoans, and nearly thrice that of Evalanedean. I am not sure that Thrun or Galaosis can support too many more at this point. We must need build a third city.”

  “We’ll do what we must,” the queen said. She was a small woman for a Dardaptoan and quite beautiful in an ethereal Dardaptoan kind of way. She had a small babe strapped to her chest. As did the dark-haired woman at her left. “Who accompanies you?”

  Marcos stepped forward. “I am of the European tribe Adrastos.” He bowed a short quick bow. “My lady. Thank you for this… honor… of allowing my small band of Dardaptoans into your world.”

  “Adrastos, say you?” She looked at the dark-haired woman before looking back at him. She studied him for the longest moment. “Yes. I suppose you are.”

  “Well, we’re the disowned band of Adrastos, to be honest.” He grinned. “I struggle to follow the rules, especially when they are archaic or ridiculous.”

  “This a lifelong problem of yours?” the dark-haired woman asked. “How many belong to this disowned branch? I knew not that there was a European tribe of Adrastos.”