She glanced at the sun. If the Black Horse Tribe responded immediately, they could attack before it set.
D'lan's jaw worked. Finally, he turned and gave the high ki-ki-ki of the Rider's call.
From all over the camp, Riders came running. D'lan waited until they were all there and then shouted, "H'kan, F'ril, J'ren, and F'len have gone to the Black Horse Tribe. I expect they'll attack immediately. Prepare yourselves. If we want to live, we have to make it to moon rise."
Without another word, the Riders left to prepare.
K'lrsa didn't have her own bow anymore. She'd lost it when she was taken as a slave. But she could use her father's bow. It was a bit big for her, but better than nothing.
D'lan grabbed her arm. "Go back to your tent. Stay out of the fighting."
"What? No." She tried to wrench her arm free, but he was too strong.
"Only you and Badru can get the rest of us to safety. We can't risk you."
She shook her head. "No. I'm not standing aside. I can't, D'lan."
"You have to! What will we do if you're hurt or killed today?"
"What good will it do for me to stand aside if you're defeated before the moon rises? We all need to fight, D'lan."
He glared at her for a long, long moment. "Fine. But don't get killed."
She smiled. "Wasn't planning on it."
K'lrsa chose one of the prime locations facing directly towards the Black Horse camp. D'lan tried to argue with her again, but her mother overruled him. "She's one of the best shots we have. Let her stay."
K'lrsa had been one of the best shots in the tribe. But she hadn't handled a bow in months and could feel the weakness in her arms as she took a practice pull. But she was too stubborn to step aside and let someone else take her place. Especially after her mother chose the spot on the other end of the same barrier.
As they waited for the Black Horse Tribe to arrive, K'lrsa studied her mother. She looked so fierce glaring in the direction of the gathering grounds. So different from the mother who had clothed and fed K'lrsa all these years.
K'lrsa had always known her mother was a Rider before she'd married and that she'd chosen to give that up to raise her family. And her mother had always been strong and confident. But this woman, this fierce warrior ready for blood, was someone K'lrsa had never suspected existed.
K'lrsa wanted to talk to her, to have the time to get to know her better, to know the real her, not just the mother she'd known growing up. But now wasn't the time for it. Maybe later. After this was all over.
She checked the tension in her bow and counted her small pile of arrows.
Fifteen. That's all she had. Just like everyone else.
They hadn't been planning for war.
She had to make each one count. No missing. No hesitation.
She checked the tension in her bow again and arranged her arrows, making sure they were ready for her to fire.
Her mother hissed and K'lrsa looked up. The Black Horse Tribe was approaching. They rode slowly, spread across the horizon in a line three Riders deep.
So many.
Made for easier shooting at least. Miss one, hit another.
Or so she hoped.
Here or there she saw a soldier from the Daliphate, but most were from the tribes. Men for the most part—it seemed the teachings of the Daliphate had already wormed their way in. Either that or no woman was foolish enough to commit herself to such a foul cause.
She recognized men from every tribe, even her own. F'ril rode front and center, a cruel grin on his face.
Hatred flared in her heart. These men were the ones destroying the tribes. The ones who'd killed her father.
She took deep breaths, sinking deeper and deeper into the hunter's version of the Core, until she floated in that place of perfect concentration where nothing existed but the arrow between her fingers and the target.
She chose the third man from the left of center. A man of the Daliphate who rode with an arrogant sneer as if he could barely be bothered to associate with such savages.
As she sunk deeper into the Core, she no longer felt the hot sun beat downing down upon her. No longer smelled the stale scent of too many people in too small a space. No longer heard the sounds of the men riding forward.
Her world was her target.
He stopped just out of bow range, along with the others, his horse prancing slightly, channeling its rider's excitement.
K'lrsa waited, breathing slow and steady.
She waited, and waited, and waited, her attention focused on the chest of the man she'd chosen to kill, willing him to come closer.
As one, the Black Horse line kicked their horses into motion and men and beasts surged towards the camp. Her target raised his arm, brandishing a long sword that flashed in the sunlight.
She didn't hear the roaring shout of their advance. Didn't feel the ground shake under their charge.
In the center of the Core, all that mattered was her target.
She released her arrow and watched it speed towards his heart as she reached for the next arrow. Even as her first target jerked backward, the arrow burying itself in his chest, she chose her next.
Once more, she pulled her bow taut and sighted on a man's chest. Once more, she released a deadly arrow that struck true.
Her next target fell before she could take aim, so she moved on to the man behind him. And then to the woman on his right. And on and on until she had no arrows left to shoot.
Only as she groped for another arrow and came up empty did she realize that she'd know her last target.
B'lina.
They'd played together as children.
She'd had a crush on D'lan.
Cried for days when he married another.
And now she was dead, K'lrsa's arrow buried in her eye.
K'lrsa fell back, shaking. The bow dropped out of her numb hand.
Someone shoved in next to her and started shooting, but she didn't even look at them, just lay there sobbing.
She'd killed B'lina.
Her friend.
She'd killed her friend.
She tried to tell herself it didn't matter who she'd killed. Because every one of those Riders out there was trying to kill her and the ones she loved. For all she knew, B'lina had been there the day her father was murdered. Maybe B'lina had helped drive the stakes into his hands. Maybe she'd been the one to gouge out his eyes.
But, no. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that someone she'd known her whole life was capable of that.
The fight raged on—she could hear the sound of swords clashing from outside the entrance—but she no longer cared.
She stumbled away, blind with sorrow, the scents and sounds of battle overwhelming. Horses and men screamed. The tang of blood filled her nostrils and coated her tongue.
At any moment the Black Horse Tribe would overwhelm their defenses and ride through camp slashing and killing all who remained.
She should turn back, grab a knife or a bow, and keep fighting.
Her tribe needed her.
But she couldn't.
She couldn't bring herself to kill anyone else. Even if it meant her own life and the lives of those she loved.
She stumbled into her tent and collapsed, covering her ears against the sounds of death all around her.
Chapter 40
Badru found her at twilight. He was covered in sweat, a bloody gash on one arm and another along his brow that someone had stitched up with more speed than finesse.
"There you are." He pulled her tight, clinging to her, shaking. "I was so worried they'd taken you or you were injured or…"
He held her so close she could barely breathe.
"Are they gone?" she whispered.
He nodded.
"How many dead?" She tried to force away the image of B'lina toppling backwards from her saddle.
"Of ours? Or theirs?" There was a slight laugh in his voice. He was excited, high on the thrill of battle.
She shrunk away from him. "Either. Both."
He released her, frowning. "Not many for us. They didn't challenge the barriers. And the fact that they chose to use swords instead of bows helped a lot." He wiped his face with the back of his arm, but it didn't help remove any dirt. "They retreated just before the sun set, but they'll be back in the morning. If we don't make it out tonight, they'll overwhelm us tomorrow. They aren't foolish enough to make the same mistakes twice. But you should've seen it, K'lrsa. D'lan and I fought side-by-side to protect the entrance. None could get past us."
He grinned, his teeth as white as the moon.
She buried her face against her knees and shook, curled up like a small child.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" He raised her chin so their eyes met.
Tears ran down her cheeks. "I killed someone I used to know. D'lan used to chase her with desert snakes when we were little. She'd run away squealing but then come right back for more. And, I…I killed her. I put an arrow through her eye."
He held her gaze. "If you hadn't she would've killed you."
K'lrsa shrugged. She didn't care. She'd rather die than kill someone else she knew.
D'lan ducked inside the tent, looking happier than K'lrsa had ever seen him. He pounded Badru on the back. "Our hero."
Badru blushed slightly, but his grin matched D'lan's. "I just fought like everyone else."
"Don't be modest!" He turned to K'lrsa, eyes alight with memory. "He took a sword off one of the first to attack the entrance and then he single-handedly defended the entrance against three fighters. They couldn't get past him. All those moves he'd been trying to teach us? Nothing, compared to what he did. They didn't stand a chance."
Badru shrugged, but he couldn't suppress his glow at D'lan's appraisal. "Most of them didn't know the first thing about holding a sword. If I'd been facing the Daliph's men instead, it would've been a very different story."
K'lrsa bit her lip. How many had he killed? How many were people like B'lina that she'd known?
D'lan didn't notice. He was too happy. "Well, thanks to you, we'll have a chance to get everyone to safety tonight. Let me know when you're ready and I'll send the first Riders your way."
D'lan left, whistling softly to himself.
K'lrsa turned away, shaking her head.
How could they be so happy about this?
"K'lrsa…" Badru touched her shoulder and she flinched away.
"Are you mad at me? What did I do? I thought you'd be happy I'd found a place here."
"No…I just…How can you be happy you killed all those people?"
He sat back. "I didn't take pleasure in it, if that's what you think. But I am happy. To be here with you, alive."
She swallowed, trying to understand the mix of emotions she was feeling. "But how were you able to keep going? When you saw them, dead at your feet? When you knew that you had done that? That you'd…"
He pulled her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as he rested his cheek against hers. "I was trained to fight from the time I could walk. It wasn't a decision I made each time I struck. It was instinct. Someone slashes at you, you counter. And you counter in a way that means he won't strike again. You don't think. You can't think. Not when your life is at risk."
"But now. Now you're laughing and joking and…"
He sighed. "I'm sorry those people had to die, K'lrsa, but I won't apologize or feel bad for what I did. They wanted to kill me. And you. And everyone else here. I did what I had to do to stop them. And I'd do it again if I had to."
She pulled away from him.
"K'lrsa? Are you mad at me?"
She shook her head. "No. I just…Get some rest and some food. I'm going to find my mother."
She left him without a backward glance.
She should be grateful. He'd helped protect her people. He'd risked his own life for theirs, acted as a member of the tribes, and found himself a place amongst her people. It's what she'd wanted him to do.
People smiled at her and thumped her on the back as she passed by because of what he'd done. He'd not only found himself a place, he'd restored her to hers.
She should be grateful.
But she couldn't help wondering how many he'd killed. And how many might still be alive if men like him and his grandfather had just left her people alone.
Chapter 41
She stood at the entrance to camp.
The ground was dark, churned into mud by the blood of the men and women who'd fought there. Those who hadn't survived were piled one on top of the other outside the entrance, arms flung here, heads lolling to the side there, eyes open and vacant.
She swallowed the bile that burned the back of her throat, not wanting to add another horrible smell to what was already a terrible scene.
Grel with their greasy gray feathers and fat, waddling bodies had already started to gather, none yet bold enough to approach. O'lin stood between them and the bodies, covered in dirt and blood, a sword in his hand.
He screamed at the grel and his anguish matched her own.
The birds glared back at him with their baleful red eyes.
She turned away.
So many dead. And more would have to die before the end. At her hand if she used the weapon Herin and the Lady Moon had told her about.
But what other choice did she have?
Ask Badru to do it for her? Let him carry the blood of hundreds on his hands?
She knew he'd do it, but was that any better?
She found her mother at the center of camp, issuing orders. She, too, looked happy, and for a moment K'lrsa wondered what was wrong with her that she didn't feel the joy of victory like the others seemed to.
She almost turned away, but she couldn't. She had to do this. For M'lara. She stepped forward. "Come on. It's time to go. I'll take you across."
"No. I'm not going until everyone else has made it." Her mother turned to a Rider and nodded as he held out an armful of bloody arrows. "Put them with the others."
K'lrsa grabbed her arm. "You have to come."
"No. I don't."
"But someone has to be there to lead in case they find us."
She nodded. "That's why D'lan is going."
He joined them, not smiling anymore. "You should be the one going."
"I don't have a wife waiting for me at the gathering grounds, pregnant with our first child. You do."
K'lrsa frowned at her. "No, but you do have a child waiting for you."
She shook her head once, sharply.
"Mother. Please." K'lrsa reached for her mother, but her mother drew back.
"We don't have time for this. If you want any chance at getting everyone out tonight, you need to start immediately."
She wanted to argue, but her mother's stony expression told her she'd be wasting her breath. Her mother turned away, pulling two Riders with her.
K'lrsa watched for a long moment.
No point in waiting. Her mother had clearly dismissed them. "Come on, D'lan. Let's go."
D'lan gestured for two more Riders to follow and they made their way back to the horses.
Badru, who'd just emerged from his tent, intercepted her. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"My mother insisted on staying."
D'lan joined them. "She told me she's not leaving until everyone else is out."
Badru nodded. "Then we better hurry."
None of them pointed out that it wasn't going to be possible. That there were too many people still left to get them all out in one night.
K'lrsa gave Fallion a perfunctory kiss on the nose, stroked his teardrop mark to awaken him, and was on his back before his wings had fully formed. "Come on, D'lan. Let's go."
D'lan hopped up behind her without argument, and they took flight before he was fully seated.
As they rose above the camp, K'lrsa tried not to notice the dark stains on the ground, the bodies piled haphazardly outside the shelter, the grel flocking closer, cawing for the dead.
D
'lan leaned forward. "You have to convince her to leave, K'lrsa. Even if she isn't the last one."
She snorted. "Like I can make her do anything she doesn't want to do."
"Do you think the horses can carry three at a time?"
"No. There's no room with the wings. And…" She bit her lip as she glanced at the moon, now just a small portion of her full self. "As the moon weakens each night, the horses seem to as well. Fallion isn't flying as fast tonight as he was the night we left Toreem."
D'lan cussed quietly. "Do you think you can get everyone out?"
"I'll try. It's all I can do."
They spent the rest of the flight in silence.
They both knew it was impossible. No need to say it.
Chapter 42
When they reached the gathering grounds, they found a very bizarre sight.
Herin, Garzel, and Lodie stood at the mouth of the rock, the children and other adults huddled against the walls farthest from them. At least fifty Riders from the Black Horse Tribe stood on the other side of the entrance, trying to get in. But they couldn't.
As Fallion circled in for landing, K'lrsa saw a Rider run forward and then stumble backward as if he'd hit a wall.
Another threw a rock, but it too was stopped by some invisible protection.
The magic of the place was protecting them.
K'lrsa sighed, relieved that at least something was going their way.
She knew she should just take off and let D'lan deal with it, but she had to know more. "Herin."
Herin turned towards her, but didn't move closer.
"Is that part of this place? Or did you do something? Will it hold?"
Herin shrugged. "Must be part of the place. We didn't do anything." She glanced back at the Riders still trying to break through. "Seems we're protected as long as we're in here."
K'lrsa nodded. "Good. The last few we bring may just have to jump off the horses' backs, but looks like you can all fit."
Herin snorted. "Not very comfortable for more than a night or two."
K'lrsa rode Fallion closer so the Riders could see him. She raised her voice to make sure they could hear her. "At least we have the gods on our side."
Rider's Rescue (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 2) Page 13