Rise (War Witch Book 1)

by Cain S. Latrani

  She gave the Cat a big hug. He didn't look very comfortable with it. Neither did she. Chara groaned.

  "We're doomed," she moaned as she fell back, staring up at the stars. "I'm doomed. Doomed to wander in an endless circle with the two of you."

  Feeling more than a little ashamed of herself, Ramora sighed and shook her head. Looking up at the Werecat, she offered her hand. After a minute, he took it.

  Chara really hoped this meant things were going to be better.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  DESPITE HER DOUBTS, the next day, the two of them were at least making an effort to get along. Mostly by avoiding each other, but it was better than the constant arguing. Somehow, Chara didn't think this was going to be a matter that was easily resolved.

  She glanced ahead as Esteban padded along the road, a good twenty feet in front of them. By her side, Ramora rode, staring at nothing. Tired of the distance that'd existed between them since Imicot's keep, Chara decided it was time to bridge it.

  "What's with you lately?" she asked, knowing well her version of tactful could do with some work.

  Ramora glanced at her and shrugged.

  "Seriously, Ramora," the other woman pressed. "Talk to me."

  The Blessed gave her an annoyed look.

  "You know what I mean," Chara snorted. "Don't play dumb with me. You aren't that blonde."

  Getting a slight smile from the warrior, Chara felt a little better. It faded after a minute when her companion made no effort to say anything at all.

  "Are you mad at me?" she asked.

  Ramora gave her a sarcastic look, shaking her head.

  "Then what?"

  She shook her head again, waving it off.

  "I'm trying here," Chara told her. "I know things aren't good between us, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to hurt you. I know I did, and I'm grateful you let us come along with you to try and help, but I don't like how things are between us now."

  Giving a weary look, Ramora told her that wasn't it.

  "Then what?" Chara asked. "I can't help if you don't talk to me."

  Hesitant, the Blessed signed out that it wasn't anything like that.

  "I can tell when you lie to me, you know," the other woman said. "Your fingers shake."

  Do not, Ramora snapped off.

  "Uh, yeah, they do," Chara told her with a snicker. "Seriously. You can't lie to save your butt."

  Ramora insisted she wasn't lying.

  "Yeah, that was the sign for bacon," her friend said. "You just said you weren't bacon."

  Ramora stared at her hand for a minute, then sighed. Okay, I'm lying.

  "Why?"

  She told her friend she didn't want her to worry about it.

  Chara chewed her lip for a minute. "Are you jealous of Esteban?"

  Ramora threw her an irritated look, saying she wasn't.

  The young woman decided it was best not to tell her she'd said she wasn't a puppy. "Then, what is it?"

  Trying to look nonchalant about it, Ramora admitted they didn't have the money to book passage on a ship.

  "Oh," Chara said slowly. "Well, okay, we can figure that out."

  The Blessed gave her a doubtful look, then motioned that she'd been thinking about it since they'd left Rheumer. Five months after leaving the keep and she still had no idea what to do.

  "I could hustle people playing Masters," Chara offered.

  Ramora pointed out that wasn't a very honorable thing to do.

  "You're the honorable one, not me," she countered.

  Ramora scowled, then agreed they'd do it, but only if they couldn't figure anything else out. What she didn't say was that it was ten times better than any idea she'd had. Though she was still partial to the idea of making Esteban do street performer tricks dressed as a clown. She chose not to share that, either.

  "Look," Chara said after a minute. "The King of Lansing is a Blessed, too, right? Of Grannax, from what I hear. Maybe he'll help us."

  Ramora shrugged. She wasn't big on asking for help, especially from kings. She'd met Grannax, after all, and felt that humans wearing a crown had no real right to the title.

  "One thing at a time," Chara assured her. "First, let's just get there, then we'll figure out how to get across the sea."

  Then we have to figure out how to fight Draco, Ramora told her, looking more than a little glum about that.

  Chara realized that was what was really eating at her. "We'll find a way. He'll pay for what he's done."

  The warrior nodded, offering her a smile. She meant well, but Chara had no better ideas on that part of their trip than Ramora did, and they both knew it. The man was a monster. Killing him may well prove impossible.

  Chara frowned, seeing the look that crossed Ramora's face. "Hey, it's going to take us a while to get there. We've got plenty of time to figure this out. I bet by the time we find him, he'll be a piece of cake to stab in the face."

  Startled, the warrior looked over at her friend with a good measure of fearful concern.

  "What?" Chara asked. "We want to make with the face stabbing, right?"

  Ramora nodded hesitantly.

  "Don't give me that look," the young woman said. "You're the one who introduced me to face stabbing."

  I slay Demon Seed, the Blessed reminded her. I don't do random face stabbings.

  "Well, neither do I,” Chara protested. "But if someone's face is begging me to stab it, then there's a really solid chance they're Demon Seed, so face stabbing is probably going to happen."

  Ramora begged her to stop saying face stabbing.

  Chara pouted. "It's as good a place to stab someone as any."

  The Blessed argued that was beside the point.

  "Is this because I upstaged you at the keep with Deacon?"

  Ramora shot her an incredulous glare.

  Chara gave her nonchalant look in return. "I did. You were getting your big blonde ass kicked."

  The warrior reminded her who killed the Dark Blessed.

  "After I softened him up for you, sure," the other woman snorted. "But that's hardly the same thing as stabbing his face by yourself."

  Enough with the face stabbing, Ramora snapped out. Besides, she added, you were late getting there.

  Chara laughed at that. "Oh, okay. You and the cuddlebug up there were doing such a good job of lulling him into a false sense of security, what with all the falling down and bleeding you were doing, but you’re going to criticize me because I got there at the perfect time. I see where this is going."

  It wasn't like that, Ramora insisted.

  "Yeah, it was," her friend chuckled. "Not to mention, I'm the only one of us who actually did any real stabbing in his facial region."

  Glowering, Ramora looked anywhere but at her.

  "You're mute, not deaf, dumbass," Chara reminded her. "Looking somewhere else is how I ignore you, not the other way around."

  Whatever, the warrior waved.

  "You really don't handle it well when someone else stabs faces better than you, you know that?"

  Jerking back around, Ramora started to pop off something, but stopped when she saw the wide grin on her friend’s face. Shaking her head, she couldn't help but smile back.

  "There you are," Chara said softly. "I've been missing you lately, girl."

  Ramora nodded, telling her she was dealing with all the setbacks poorly. Apologizing, she promised to try harder.

  "It's okay," the young woman nodded. "I do get it. Just don't forget, I'm here for you."

  Giving her a salute, Ramora grinned, stifling the emotion that crawled up through her. Here for her, yes, but not in the way she wanted, or needed, her to be. That was what was hard to deal with. Everything else, she could figure out, she believed.

  The comfort of the woman she loved being taken from her, that was too close to why she was tracking the Dark Blessed in the first place for her to accept easily. Loss wasn't a thing she handled well.

  Still, the Blessed admitted, at least Chara was
safe, well, whole, and happy. That was the balm on her broken heart. It would have to be enough.

  "What's up with him?" Chara asked, drawing her companion back from her musing to notice Esteban standing in the road ahead, ears cocking forward, then back.

  Reaching him, the two drew up short, looking at him as he stared ahead, where the road curved off into the thicker forest. After a moment, he grabbed his poleaxe from where he kept it slung across his back.

  "A battle, up ahead," he told them before running toward it.

  "Face stabbing time," Chara yipped as she and Ramora spurred their horses into a gallop behind him.

  The trio raced around the bend, diving deeper into the woods, the ring of steel on steel soon reaching them. The road weaved again, taking them farther into the trees, the sound echoing strangely, making it hard for the two women to pinpoint. The Werecat, however, had no problem tracking the sound of combat, taking them off the road after another dozen yards, and into a clearing.

  There, they spotted the six Orcs clustered around a single opponent. A handful of inches taller than Ramora, he was broad of shoulder, with powerful arms that swung the sword he carried easily. Two other Orcs lay nearby, dying or dead, telling them all of his skill as a warrior.

  "Stand fast," Esteban cried. "We come to your aid!"

  The Orcs jerked towards the sound, as surprised as the warrior himself was. Peeling off, two of them charged the Werecat, who readied his weapon. Ramora stood by his side in a split second, sword up and ready. Behind them, Chara took in the situation with an odd calm.

  Taking advantage of the confusion, one Orc swung at the fighter in their midst, gaining only a glancing blow as he raised his blade to defend. Still, the strike caught him in the head, staggering him back.

  Esteban met an Orc, spinning deftly, the haft of his poleax knocking the creature’s thrust out and high, leaving him open when the blade took his head as the Werecat came around. Beside him, Ramora drove her opponent’s attack down, his mace hitting only dirt as the tip of her great sword did the same, allowing her to shove it forward, splitting his face with the blade near the hilt.

  "See," Chara muttered as she hefted her bow. "Face stabbing."

  "That was a dirty move," the warrior they'd ridden in to aid commented as he pulled away his wide-brimmed hat, a trickle of blood running down his face. "Not sporting at all, friend."

  Chara dropped two Orcs with well-placed shots as they gathered at his back, the last two remaining Demon Seed before him. She spotted it first, and lowered her bow, smirking, Esteban and Ramora not getting a good look at the man yet as they closed to flank him.

  "Stand and be judged," he bellowed, thrusting his hand over his head.

  From where Chara sat, the Divine Mark on his forehead was plain to see, a Tiger's paw, the symbol of a Blessed of Grannax. In his upraised hand, came his Divine Gift, the legendary Sunspear. Four feet from end-to-end, formed of pure Divine sunlight, it resembled a pair of small lances joined at the center.

  The pair of Orcs shrieked as they cringed back, unable to withstand the purity of the weapon manifested before them. The undeniable icon of the Divine Tiger, Emperor of Heaven, and his right to rule over all of creation, few Demon Seed could even stand in the presence of it.

  Bringing the glowing weapon to the ready, the Blessed of Grannax lunged forward, spinning the twin blades as he closed on the two cowering Demon Seed. In a blinding move, he took the head of one, before impaling the second with a well-placed blow.

  The Orcs dead, he dismissed the Divine weapon and turned to face the band that had, in his mind, so valiantly come to his aid. With a thick mop of floppy dark blond curls adorning his head, he had a wide, open smile that reached all the way to his stormy green eyes.

  Ramora arched an eyebrow in appreciation.

  "Well met, my friends," he said with a bow. "Thank you for coming to my side. I'm in your debt."

  "Yeah, it's what we do," Chara said as she slid off her horse and joined her companions. "General good deeds, stopping of evil, rescuing of fair dude-damsels. Hey, have you ever played Masters? I just learned the game, and maybe you can give me some pointers."

  Ramora threw her a horrified look. Esteban just stared at the sky in dismay. The Blessed of Grannax didn't seem to know what to do.

  "I've played, yes," he admitted. "Took second place in the Tysol Championship."

  "That's so impressive," Chara swooned.

  Ramora shoved her, pointing at the mark on his brow. Esteban buried his face in his hand. Chara gave her warrior friend an irritated look.

  "Forgive me," the Blessed of Grannax said, not sure what was going on. "I have failed to introduce myself. I’m Leto Alimon, out of Tysol."

  Ramora and Chara shoved each other a few times as Esteban gave him a nervous smile. "We're normally better mannered than this, I promise."

  "I'm just going to take your word for that," Leto nodded, watching the two women glare at each other.

  "Stupid honor," Chara muttered before turning to the Blessed and smiling sweetly. "Forgive me. I'm Chara, from Rheumer in the nation of Fival. This is Esteban, my boyfriend, and that uptight lady over there who never lets anyone have any fun at all is Ramora, obviously a Blessed of Ramor."

  The warrior tackled the young woman. Esteban sighed heavily. Leto nodded, offering the Werejaguar his hand with a warm smile.

  "It's very good to meet you, Esteban," he said.

  "Oh, uh," the Jaguar stammered. "You, too, thanks."

  "Not used to people being so polite, 'eh?" he asked.

  "Not really, no," Esteban replied. "My apologies."

  "Think nothing of it," Leto said, dismissing the whole thing with a wave. "Some people simply do not know how to treat another living soul. Especially one who so willingly throws himself into battle against the minions of evil. You, good sir, have made a friend today."

  "I, uh, oh," the Jaguar fumbled. "I mean, thank you. I'm honored."

  Leto glanced over to where Chara and Ramora continued to struggle. "Are they okay?"

  "It's that time of the month," he sighed.

  "Ah, well, yes, I suppose that would make them less than cordial," the other man replied.

  Esteban flattened his ears. "Right, sorry, no. Not that time, the other time, where they try to kill each other. Not that they don't at that time, it's just not this time, and I'm going to stop talking."

  "I feel your pain," Leto said, clapping him on the shoulder with a sage nod. "I have five sisters. It's fully understandable."

  "Okay then," the big Cat whimpered. "Chara! I'm drowning here! Help!"

  Slapping Ramora across the chest, Chara shoved her off and stood, straightening her shirt and dusting off her leather pants before affixing a warm smile and joining her beleaguered boyfriend. "Sorry about that. We had a mild disagreement. Everything's good now."

  Ramora flipped her off from where she lay in the dirt.

  "You're getting Orc blood in your hair," Leto offered.

  Ramora flipped him off, too.

  "Friendly sort, is she?" he asked.

  "This is about as good as it gets," Esteban muttered, earning him an elbow to the stomach from his lover.

  "As I was going to say before a giant blonde fell on me," Chara intoned sweetly. "We're all greatly pleased to have been of service to a Blessed of Grannax."

  Leto nodded slowly. "Okay."

  "Get up," Chara snapped at Ramora, who slowly did, still giving the young woman a glare. "Again, sorry. We're having kind of a weird day."

  Leto smiled easily. "Think nothing of it. As I said, I'm in your debt. Had you not come along, I may've been caught in combat for another hour or more."

  "That kind of makes the whole rescue thing sound less noble," Chara replied.

  "On the contrary," he grinned. "It was most selfless of you to come to the aid of a stranger. There's nothing more noble than that."

  "Well, when you put it that way," she smiled. "I guess we're noble."

  Ramora tw
irled a finger in the air. Chara slapped her hand away. Esteban sagged, heaving a weary sigh.

  The awkwardness of the situation was alleviated by a swirl of sparkling lights as an Ascended materialized, a towering brunette with the tail of a tiger, and the most strategically placed amount of almost no clothing Chara had ever seen.

  "Leto!" she cried, grabbing him by the neck. "I told you to be careful on the road! Lots of Demon Seed have been spotted! Something awful could have happened to your cute little face!"

  "Shana," he gurgled as she nearly strangled him.

  "Why don't you ever listen to me?" she wailed. "You're a General in Tysol's army! You should've brought a division as bodyguards!"

  "What the what?" Chara blurted.

  Esteban stared wide-eyed at the gravity-defying nature of the Ascended.

  Ramora waved at her with a grin.

  "Little Sister!" Shana squealed, tossing Leto aside to grab the Blessed of Ramor and hug her tightly. "I haven't seen you in ages! You look so good! Don't smell so good, mind you, but I'll forgive that! How long have you been in the Middle World? Oh, I forgot, you can't talk, not that you don't know how to use your tongue, but still, such a shame, I bet you moan in the high C range, and are these your friends? Hi! I'm Shana!"

  Chara gaped. Esteban closed her mouth for her. Ramora tried to breathe around the Ascended's hug. Leto picked himself up, wondering what'd just happened.

  "Hi," Esteban offered when everyone simply stood staring.

  Ramora tapped out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "SO, YOU’RE THE DAUGHTER of Ramor I've heard so much about," Leto said, looking Ramora over. "I must say, this is quite the honor, to be rescued by the most favored of the War Wolf's Blessed."

  Ramora shrugged, waving the whole thing off.

  "Does he always talk like that?" Chara asked Shana.

  "No, just when he meets new people he's trying to impress," the Ascended replied. "Especially hot women."

  "Shana!" Leto gasped, horrified.

  "What?" she asked.

  Chuckling nervously, Leto turned back to Ramora. "Ascended. You know how they are."

  "Better than most," Shana giggled, drawing a look of embarrassment from Ramora. "What?"