Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  A hoarse yell behind them told Annika the Patrol had spotted them through the trees. She stumbled on the raised sod, and Kalan caught her arm to stop her from falling. His grip jerked her half-healed shoulder. She grimaced but bore the pain as he urged her on.

  A high-pitched howl came from behind them. Another echoed it. She risked a glance. Her blood ran cold. Following them at a ground-eating lope were the four Na’Hord scouts, their weapons drawn, while bearing down on them at full gallop were the two Vorc-riders, covering the distance twice as fast as they could run. The riders split, urging their beasts on, one to the left, the other to the right. She could hear the deep, raspy breathing of the animals as they drew level with them.

  “They’re trying to cut us off.” Adrenaline burned through her but her tired muscles refused to move any faster. “We’re not going to make it!”

  “I won’t be captured again!”

  She gasped in surprise as Kalan veered to his right and launched himself at the Vorc-rider. He grasped the rider’s shoulder and his weight pulled him from the saddle. As they fell he wrenched the demon’s dagger from his belt. She felt a familiar surge of power a moment before he drove the blade into the guard’s neck.

  It was all she saw before a heavy body collided with her. The impact sent her tumbling and drove the breath from her lungs. Her pouch ripped from her shoulder as she rolled. Her wound throbbed.

  Dizzy and disorientated, she ended up facedown on the ground. She spat dirt from her mouth. The overpowering odor of musk filled her lungs. Instinct urged her to move. With her head spinning, though, all she could manage was a crawl.

  She heard the Vorc grunt. It planted its sheathed claws in the soil in front of her, blocking her escape. Its musky scent filled her lungs as she inhaled a gasping breath. A pair of large boots thudded barely an arm’s length away. Brawny, muscled thighs in dark leather breeches flexed, stepped closer.

  “Who’d have guessed I’d find you out here, Na’Chi, and in the company of our escaped prisoner?” drawled a deep voice.

  She peered up into the Na’Reish’s broad, angular face, noting the dark markings mottling the side of his jaw. He belonged to the Na’Reishu, the demon middle class, and was probably the captain of the Patrol. She didn’t recognize him but the cruel twist of a smile on his lips was familiar.

  “You deserve death for helping this human. It’s a pity that pleasure belongs to your father.”

  His boot struck her side like a steel bar. The force drove her onto her back, choking for breath. The demon straddled her, pinned her to the ground with his weight. Drawing on her Gift, she grabbed for his wrists.

  A balled fist struck her cheek. Pain exploded in her head. Another blow caught her mouth. Her cheek. More pain. Her vision dimmed. The iron tang of blood coated her tongue. Cries split the air. She was wrenched off the ground a moment, then the demon’s heavy weight was gone.

  Thuds and grunts sounded nearby. Glancing up, she flinched. The blows to her head had doubled her vision because there were too many blurred figures fighting nearby for the number of Na’Reish she remembered. Desperate to flee, Annika crawled in the opposite direction.

  “Stop her, she’s getting away!” a gravelly voice bellowed.

  Running footsteps came toward her. Her heart pounded. Her hand touched something cold and hard. She curled her fingers around the rock. Her head was yanked back by the hair as she swung the rock at her assailant. A hard, muscled arm blocked her. Her wrist was caught, squeezed, and her numbed fingers released the weapon. She was slammed to the ground on her back and held there once again.

  Blinking furiously to see her opponent, she gripped the bare flesh of his arm, sensed the strong thudding of his heart, his life energy, and summoned her Gift. The sound of a blade being drawn from a sheath chilled her. Its cold edge bit into the skin of her throat.

  “Stop!” Kalan’s hoarse voice came from close by.

  “She’s one of them!” The deep voice was filled with contempt.

  “She isn’t part of the Patrol. She helped me escape.”

  Annika’s heart pounded. She dared not move. She could hear the harsh rasp of her assailant’s breath. Abruptly, the blade was withdrawn. She released the man’s wrist and blinked once more, relieved as her sight returned and she stared up at one of Vash’s sons, not the Na’Hord guard she feared he had been.

  She recognized the young man as Maren, Vash’s youngest son. She’d seen him on several of her visits to the village to buy herbs from the traders. He was built stocky, like his father, with the same broad facial features and straw-colored blond hair, the wavy strands tied back in a long braid. His deep blue gaze bore into her, hard, severe, and older than the twenty years she knew him to be. Barely contained savagery burned in their depths.

  Kalan appeared behind him, disheveled, a cut bleeding on his cheek. He laid a hand on the youth’s shoulder. “Let her go.”

  Something darker than reluctance seethed beneath the ferocity but the man complied. Had Kalan not intervened, she doubted anyone else would have stopped Maren. She sat up, unable to hide her trembling. She’d come too close to death.

  Kalan crouched beside her. While he didn’t touch her, she could feel his gaze moving over her. “Your brow is split.”

  She pressed a hand to her forehead. It came away bloody. The side of her face felt hot and swollen. Her newly healed shoulder ached. “I’ll live.” She’d suffered worse. Licking her lips, she kept her voice low. “Why didn’t you let him kill me?”

  A frown creased Kalan’s brow. His confusion surprised her. She raised her chin in Maren’s direction.

  “In half a heartbeat I would have been dead and you’d have been free of me… our bargain.”

  His emerald gaze widened as the hand resting on his thigh curled into a fist. “You question my honor again?” His lips compressed into a thin line. “If I wanted you dead I’d kill you myself, not rely on some-one else.”

  Never doubt a Light Blade’s word, Annika. Hesia’s admonishment whispered in her mind. Their oath is as binding as their faith. Heat burned Annika’s cheeks. She should have trusted in her friend’s assurances but before she could apologize Kalan spoke.

  “Do you know these people?”

  Her gaze drifted over his shoulder then widened when she saw the bodies of the Na’Reish and two Vorc sprawled on the ground behind him. Three other human males stood with Maren. She eyed their bloody weapons, then glanced up at the eldest.

  “That’s Vash,” she murmured, nodding toward the man with silver streaking his blond hair. Years of hauling the ferry across the river accounted for the muscled shoulders bulging beneath his coarse-woven long-sleeved shirt. Worn leather trews fit his brawny thighs like a second skin and were tucked into scuffed work boots. “Next to him are his sons, Maren, Carne, and Riccalo.”

  Kalan held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “Who’s Vash?”

  “He and his wife, Gerla, own the tavern.” She gestured to the largest building closest to the dock. Smoke curled from its stone chimney. “He also owns the ferry and trades supplies with the Na’Reish in this end of the valley. Not by choice, though. As long as he provides the goods they need, they leave the village alone.”

  “You keep unusual company, Light Blade.” The bearded man’s gravelly voice carried over the distance between them.

  Kalan pinned the man with a level stare. “Do you always help strangers being pursued by a Na’Hord Patrol?”

  “Only if they’re human.” He cocked his head to one side. “Do others follow you?”

  “I doubt they’re the only ones searching for me.”

  Vash gave a quick hand signal and his sons headed for the battle scene. As unofficial leader of Whitewater Crossing, he’d ensure the dead bodies of the guards and Vorc disappeared. To leave them there would court the wrath of the next Patrol. One of the traders scooped up her pouch and threw it to her. Her hands still shook as she drew the strap over her head.

  “Thank you,” K
alan said solemnly. “We couldn’t have escaped the Patrol without your help.”

  Vash inclined his head and signaled them to move toward the village. Annika’s gaze traveled to Whitewater Crossing. Several people watched from the edge of the village. The idea of them helping escapees didn’t surprise her. The families made a living from ferrying the men, women, and children taken during border raids by the Na’Hord Patrols, saving the demons from having to man the crossing.

  These humans had seen their kind abused and used as blood-slaves. And while her father traded with them, his Patrols also ransacked and plundered their homes and businesses whenever it struck their fancy. There was certainly no love lost between the two groups.

  “Annika tells me you own the ferry. We need passage across the river.”

  Vash’s pale blue eyes surveyed Kalan then her. “Does she go with you?”

  “Yes.”

  His lip curled. “What business do you have traveling with her?”

  “What concern is that of yours?”

  “If another Patrol learns that she was here, especially in your company, it becomes my concern.” Vash halted their trek to the village and folded his brawny arms. “I don’t want the wrath of the Na’Rei brought down on my family.”

  Dread surged through Annika, gripping her heart in its iron fingers and squeezing. Lady of Mercy, she hadn’t anticipated this. She should have.

  Frowning, Kalan glanced between her and Vash. “Why would the demon leader be troubled by her disappearance?”

  “She’s his daughter.”

  Annika’s insides shriveled with his damning words. Shock flitted across Kalan’s face. The muscles in his jaw flexed, hardened. The pupils of his eyes dilated then shrank as his gaze fixed on her. “You’re Savyr’s daughter?”

  She pressed a hand to her chest, hardly able to draw breath to answer him. “Yes.”

  Kalan took a slow step toward her, his right hand flexing then fisting, every line in his body taut. Annika wanted to run but a sulfuric odor underscored by an earthen heaviness emanated from him. It possessed the same sharp intensity her father’s scent had seconds before he lashed out at her. She tensed, anticipating, expecting a blow from his fist but the physical strike never came.

  Kalan’s emerald eyes glittered. “The half-blood daughter of the demon leader.” His clipped tone was as cold as the ice that lined the riverbank.

  She flinched. Her pulse leapt with fear until she could hear it pounding in her ears. She should have told him earlier when Hesia had encouraged her to share her story with him back in the dungeon.

  Would he give her a chance to explain?

  Lip curling, Kalan moved away as if he couldn’t stand to be anywhere near her, his thunderous expression unforgiving. A hollow ache writhed in her chest. Any explanation now would be seen as an excuse. Too convenient, too late. What little trust they’d established was gone thanks to her stupidity.

  After a quick glance around, she knew there’d be no escape. Goose bumps prickled her skin. The villagers surrounded her, their gazes as cold as Kalan’s boring into her back. Would they now kill her? Her mouth dried. She clutched her pouch closer to her chest, fragile protection against danger.

  Fear urged her to run.

  Chapter 7

  KALAN shook with raw fury even as a chill raced through him. Annika’s birth and survival to womanhood took on new meaning and her evasiveness back in the dungeon now made sense.

  The demon leader had a Na’Chi child, one he’d kept alive. His reasons for doing so remained unknown but Kalan had no doubt that once her disappearance became known she would be hunted down like him, for different reasons, but hunted all the same. They were in greater danger than he’d ever suspected. His stomach twisted and knotted.

  Why hadn’t she told him who she was? Fresh anger raced through his veins. Because she knew she’d deliberately taken advantage of his desperation.

  “Leave the Na’Chi with us.” Vash gripped his wide leather belt. “She’ll only bring trouble. We’ll take care of her.”

  As a Light Blade warrior, his first tenet was to protect his people from danger. Fleeing across the border with Annika would increase the threat of Na’Reish Patrols invading human territory.

  Tempting as it was, the bargain he’d struck with her stood in the way of accepting the trader’s offer. To break his oath now would be dishonorable.

  His shook his head. Damned if he kept his word, damned if he didn’t. And to think he’d been afraid for her when he’d seen Maren place his blade at her throat. His gaze slashed to her. She stiffened. Her eyes were yellow; the brightest he’d seen since meeting her.

  “You’d let them kill me?” Her voice shook. Terror and indignation sparkled in her gaze as she glared at him. “I saved your life, Light Blade.”

  Vash’s thick eyebrows lifted. “Is that true?”

  “Yes.” Kalan couldn’t deny her claim as much as he wanted to. Lady’s Breath, what a mess. Everything inside him rejected the only solution to the problem. He forced the words through clenched teeth. “She stays with me. How long before we can cross?”

  A long silence followed and for a moment he believed Vash would refuse them passage. The river-trader finally shrugged. “We can go now.”

  “Good.” Kalan caught Annika’s arm in a tight grip, disliking the contact but there was no way he was giving her a chance to escape. Not before she answered his questions. Questions he’d delayed far too long in asking.

  She gasped but made no move to jerk free. Ignoring the trembling in her muscles, he focused on getting them to the dock and the thought that in another half hour he’d be safe on the other side of the river.

  “Go on board.” Vash issued several more orders that sent his men hurrying to untie the ferry, then joined the pair on the deck. Satisfied all was in order he turned toward them, jutting his chin in Annika’s direction. “What do I tell the Na’Reish when they come searching for her?”

  “Nothing.” Guilt flared in Kalan’s gut. Annika wasn’t the only one hiding their identity. “We all have our secrets.…” His decision didn’t sit well with him, but, Lady forgive him his hypocrisy, he had no right to endanger himself more than he already had. Others depended on him. He’d deal with the consequences later. “I’m sure our passing this way is something you’ll want to keep to yourself.”

  Vash shook his head. “You tread a dangerous path, Light Blade.”

  Once they were aboard, Kalan left Annika by a stack of empty crates and retreated to the side, needing to distance himself from her. Leaning on the wooden railing, he closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face.

  Merciful Mother, he was tired. He kneaded the shoulder that had taken the brunt of the fall when he’d dragged the Na’Reish guard off his mount then shivered as the morning breeze picked up strength. The cold made his whole body ache. He wished he dared stop for a bath, a solid night’s sleep, and a good meal, but until he made it across the river and out of Na’Reish territory, he wasn’t safe.

  Around him, the river-traders called out to each other as they prepared to cast off. The ferry jerked then began to rock as it hit the rapids that gave the crossing its name. Rope hissed through the metal rings on the guide rails as the workers hauled on them. That sound and undulating motion as the ferry was buffeted were soothing.

  “Traveling with her is a huge risk.” Vash’s statement was just loud enough to be heard over the rushing water. He leaned on the rail next to Kalan. “You said it yourself—she’s the half-blood daughter of the demon leader. Why take her with you? You’d be better off going on alone.”

  Kalan grimaced and scrubbed a hand over his face. “In exchange for her help getting out of the fortress, I promised to take her to Sacred Lake and protect her.”

  “An honor debt.” Vash grunted. “Perhaps you could turn this to your advantage then. Hand her over to the Blade Council. Being who she is, who knows what sort of information she might have about Na’Reish warrior numbers and the like.
”

  The Blade Council knew next to nothing about the Na’Rei’s defenses. They were going to need every advantage available if they had any hope of stopping Patrols from raiding across the border.

  He peered over his shoulder. Annika sat by the small shelter, leaning back against the wooden wall, her arms clasped around her drawn-up knees, looking as tired as he felt.

  And alone.

  Don’t be fooled by her looks. She’d used him. She didn’t deserve his empathy. Did she?

  “Here.” Vash’s gravelly voice broke into his thoughts. The older man handed him a small pile of faded clothes, worn but in better condition than Kalan’s garb. “They’re not much but they’re clean and certainly warmer than what you have on. Change in the all-weather cabin.”

  Nodding his thanks, Kalan took them and glanced at Annika again. She’d placed her head on her knees. A vulnerable pose. Deceptively so. He shook his head. She had a strength of will most men lacked. That, coupled with her skill when it came to killing demons, or humans, proved she was as accomplished as any Light Blade warrior.

  Something he’d better never forget.

  “I’ll watch her.”

  Nodding his thanks to Vash, Kalan headed for the small cabin. Changing would only take a few minutes, then Annika was going to need that inner strength. It was time she answered his questions.

  Annika drew in a slow, deep breath to ease the thumping of her heart as Kalan’s footsteps retreated to the all-weather cabin. Over the sound of the ferry disembarking, she’d caught parts of his conversation with Vash. What were his plans for her? He’d neither confirmed nor denied any suggestion made by the river-trader.

  “Sometimes Light Blade warriors take their honor too seriously when it would benefit them more to bend a little.” Vash’s voice sounded closer than before. Annika glanced up to find him, Maren, and another walking toward her. “But I have no problem dealing with rock-scum like you.”