Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3)

by Matt Howerter

  The desire that Sacha had to enter this woman’s mind and bring her to heel was so tangible she could taste it. Guilt and a bit of fear suddenly twisted at her, helping her push the desire away and wait to see what Alexander would do.

  If Alexander suspected the tall woman to be their leader, he didn’t acknowledge it as he went down the line, looking into the eyes of each Wildman in turn. After inspecting the last of them, the prince stepped away so he could address them all. “I have not come looking for vengeance or to destroy you. I have come to offer help, and to ask for it. The horde that has driven you from your lands marches this way. It is my belief that they will show no mercy to any of us. Basinia needs your help, and you need ours.” He took a moment to let his words sink in before continuing with, “I also believe there is one amongst you that has the power to make the peace we seek. I ask for that individual to step forward and treat with me.”

  One of the six, another hobgoblin, spat on the ground in front of Alexander. The rest stood silent, looking ahead defiantly.

  Alexander sighed. “There is still time to think on my offer, but not much. I implore you to reconsider.” He signaled to Sir Wallner and said, “Have these six and the other three detained separately from the masses.”

  The old knight stepped forward, barking commands at his soldiers and the prisoners.

  The prince headed back to their tent, offering his arm to Sacha as he went. She took it gratefully and asked, “What now, my love?”

  “Now?” Alexander looked back to where the prisoners were being shepherded away, considering. “Now, we wait.”

  Several uneventful days passed. Sacha was actually grateful for the opportunity to rest. After the disaster in Kron’s mind, she was prone to waking up with new nightmares. It was not uncommon for her to thrash herself out of sleep, clawing at the thick-fingered hands of Kron. Unfortunately, it was no less common for Alexander to find her crying in hysterics as the depth of Kron’s pain shattered her dreams. Had she ever believed hobgoblins could not feel things like loyalty, fidelity, and even love?

  She was also grateful for the time away from Vinnicus. She didn’t see the creature every day or even every month, but his oppressive presence left a residue in the palace halls she couldn’t wash from her mind.

  Escape from the bustle of the Citadel was a nice change as well. Out here, the only distraction from her peace of mind was Master Nolan. The old physician had become a constant fixture in Sacha’s days, especially since he discovered she had not taken the tonic he had first ordered her to drink, and Alexander’s worry over her nightmares. As irritating as it was to have Nolan’s constant remonstrations following her, she had to admit he knew his business. By the end of the second day, the aches and pains she had earned in the woods were gone, as well as the exhaustion she had suffered from making herself into a conduit for the Shamonrae. By the end of the third day, the only complaint she had left was the constant anxiety that resulted from her unique circumstances. At its worst, it was as suffocating as any cave-in. At its best, it was like trying to have a conversation with a knife pressed into the small of her back. One slip…

  Today happened to be one of the best times. She and Alexander had come down to the banks of the river for a rare moment alone. The slowly moving waters of the Tanglevine slid by in front of her. The rich colors of the sunset rippled in the spreading circles left behind by the stones Alexander was skipping out into the placidly churning waters.

  This was the sixth full day since the actual leaders of the Wildmen had been discovered and captured. While Sacha had been resting and recovering her strength, Alexander had been visiting with the captives every morning and evening. He had been patient, and he had been firm, but each of his attempts at diplomacy had failed so far. In the past year, she had never seen her prince lose his composure, but tonight the frustration was beginning to take its toll.

  “I’m at my wit’s end,” Alexander said as he threw another pebble into the river. The smooth rock bounced along the calm surface of the water until tapering to a sinking halt some thirty yards out. “I had hoped to at least create some dissension amongst their group, if not full compliance, but every time they oppose me, they do it in a united front.”

  “Let me speak with them,” Sacha said for what seemed to be the tenth time. “Let me speak with her.”

  There had been many discussions among her, Alexander, and the other commanders of the army about which of the nine captives was leader. Even though Sacha had not been allowed to speak with the captives alone so far, she had convinced the others to accept her view of Lauren’s role as the head of the nine captives. Even though he agreed with Sacha’s evaluation of the situation, Alexander had been resolute in his desire to have the dark-haired leader come out of her own accord; to him, it would be a gesture of faith on her part and a signal that a deal could be made. Sacha had agreed with the prince’s decision wholeheartedly at first, but she could feel the weight of time as it passed. Now it was time to push.

  Alexander dropped his remaining stones and sat next to her. He sighed heavily and flopped back to stare at the purpling sky. “Perhaps a woman’s touch is needed,” he mused.

  Sacha could not tell him what she was planning, but whatever assumptions Alexander used to convince himself to release the reins would suffice. “It is an angle we have not tried,” she said, trying to keep her voice level.

  “So be it.” Alexander scooped her hand up from where it rested amongst the river pebbles and kissed her fingertips. “When would you like to meet with them?”

  “Immediately.”

  His smile was deep and mesmerizing. “I almost forgot to whom I was speaking.” He rose smoothly, drawing her up. He paused to offer his arm. “Shall we?”

  Sacha made a show of smiling shyly at her feet so she would not be distracted by his bewitching smile. She opened herself to the Shamonrae and began drinking in power from the abundant life along the river even as she said, “I would be honored to accompany you, my handsome prince.”

  He was handsome, but more than that, he was effortlessly charming and obviously as in love with her as she was with him. She offered a quick prayer of thanks to Eos that her work in his mind had been executed so perfectly. It made it much easier to consider what she was planning next.

  A chill ran down Sacha’s spine as thoughts of her success were inevitably and irrefutably tainted by Kron. That did not go well, she reasoned, but I was tired, and had horribly underestimated him. I’m rested now, and I only have need to delve one more time. Then I will break from this madness.

  “Does something ail you?” Alexander asked as they walked back to the encampment.

  Sacha shook her head. “No, just thinking about the battle the other day.” She gripped his hand tightly. “You scared me when you fell.”

  “I had everything under control,” he replied with a chuckle.

  Sacha snorted. “Foolish man.”

  Alexander barked a laugh. “Guilty. Both counts.”

  They continued their stroll into the center of camp. Most of the soldiers were kept busy with chores or training, but there were always a few groups lounging near their tents or gambling. The stew pots had been placed over the cooking fires in preparation for supper, and the most junior soldiers rushed about, gathering last-minute supplies for the meal.

  “What is your plan of attack?” Alexander asked as they approached the prisoners’ tent.

  “I would speak with them alone. Without the guards.”

  “I don’t see that happening.” Alexander frowned. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  “The soldiers can stay just outside, but I need the Wildmen to think they have a chance to speak freely.” Sacha had known her request would be resisted, but it was crucial that every Basinian be absent if she was to use her magic. Without magic, she would be just as unsuccessful as the rest. She paused their walk to lay a reassuring hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “I will be cautious, I promise.”

  The prince’s ha
rdened features did not change, but he nodded. “Very well, but I don’t like it.” The tent in which the prisoners were being held appeared as they passed a line of cook fires.

  “If I am successful, you will like the outcome,” Sacha said. “Trust me.”

  “I do.” Doubt still darkened Alexander’s expression as he pulled the tent flaps back for her. “It’s the others that make me worry.”

  The smell of sweat and unwashed bodies assaulted Sacha once she stepped inside. The prisoners had been encouraged to bathe in the river, but they had refused. They hadn’t partaken of the food that was offered, either. Sacha wasn’t certain what the Wildmen hoped to achieve by this show of will, but she had had enough. The time for games was over.

  “Everyone out,” Alexander ordered, gesturing to the guards. “Take your posts just outside.” He gave Sacha one last look of concern and a grave nod and then followed his soldiers out.

  Gloom fell when the heavy canvas dropped shut once again. Even though the power brimming within her had enriched every color and sound, it still took a few moments for her eyes to adjust. While she was waiting, she reached out with her arcane sense to the waiting and watching prisoners.

  She could tell, even without her ability to sense their patterns, that all nine remained seated. Each one wore a manacle on their ankle that had been fitted with a large iron loop. A long chain threaded through the loop, connecting each of the nine together and finally to the giant pole in the center of the tent. The trio that she had already seen sat close to Lauren. The rest were as varied a mixture of gender and species as the Wildman tribes themselves. Each was obviously weary but just as apparently defiant.

  Seconds turned into minutes as Sacha patiently waited and her eyes became accustomed to the dim light. Muted murmurs began to fill the tent once it was evident the guards would not be returning. The prisoners looked warily at her and at the tent flaps distrustfully.

  “Your prince is weak, shoba.” Lauren finally spoke. Her voice was deep and as rough as any man’s.

  That last word wasn’t a human word, Sacha was sure. She thought it was something from the hobgoblin tongue. When her eyes touched the hate-filled gaze of Kron, she knew she was correct. More, she suspected what it meant. Witch.

  “My husband genuinely seeks peace,” Sacha replied, doing her best to ignore the implied insult. “Do not mistake his leniency for weakness. That would be a fatal mistake.”

  The woman snorted. “If that is a threat, shoba, then bring your lightning. We will not deal with you river scum.”

  Sacha refined her arcane sense as the group of prisoners laughed and called out their assent. Sacha ignored their jeers and concentrated, seeking not mastery of their minds but a sense of their feelings. She needed to know how many of this group actually preferred the idea of death to peace.

  The chuckles and catcalls from the Wildmen were loud enough to summon one of the guards. A tent flap opened roughly to reveal an older man in full plate armor with his sword drawn.

  “Did I call for aid, soldier?” Sacha demanded.

  The guard juddered to a halt, surprise evident in his wide-eyed stare. “But the prince—”

  “Get out, and do not enter this tent again unless I summon you,” Sacha commanded before the soldier could finish.

  The grizzled veteran stood in shock for a moment, but he recovered quickly, bowing and exiting without a word.

  “At least you’ve trained them well enough,” the tattooed woman remarked.

  “Men are easy enough to train...”

  Lauren’s eyes widened a fraction at Sacha’s words.

  Sacha felt an odd pulse of mild anxiety in Lauren’s signature. Several of the other Wildmen vibrated in time with Lauren’s as well. Curious, Sacha pushed a little harder, pouring a fraction more power into her sense of the Wildmen. She continued speaking as she watched the signatures for clues. “I find males, of any species, to be simple to manipulate. They just aren’t as bright as females.”

  The three women present were definitely uncomfortable, while three of the males conveyed a combination of fear and agitation. That left three remaining males: a goblin from the group of six caught trying to escape, Kron, and the human that had acted as interpreter in the failed Wildmen attempt at subterfuge. From them there was only contempt or hatred.

  Sacha needed more information. Kron she understood better than she would have liked, and she shuddered at the thought of approaching his mind again. The other two… She focused on the interpreter first, sliding quickly past his feeble defenses to peer into the landscape of his mind.

  Ah, she thought after seeing how he viewed Lauren. So that’s how it is.

  Sacha turned her attention to the goblin who was glaring at her with hatred evident in his twisted brows. As with the interpreter, it was the work of only a moment to bypass his mental defenses and enter the realm of his thoughts. She found what she needed and was ready to proceed in a twinkling.

  “It makes sense that you would keep this one close, Lauren,” Sacha said softly.

  The tall woman shot an irritated glare at Kron at the mention of her name. The man, it seemed, was spared her wrath due to his agonized twisting on the floor.

  Sacha continued, pointing to the goblin. “I would as well. It pays to know where your enemies are.” She watched Lauren’s signature closely as she spoke, looking for cues to her next action.

  Another spike of emotion flared in Lauren’s signature. Sacha was certain she sensed a blend of hatred, caution, and even a hint of envy. It would seem that Lauren had at least an inkling of how the goblin felt about her.

  “They said nothing.” Sacha answered the question implicit in Lauren’s heated glare toward the trio. She stepped close enough to the big woman that she could drop her voice to a soft murmur. “I am shoba, just as Kron accused me of being. I plucked your name from his thoughts.”

  Lauren’s expression was calm, but her signature vibrated with fear.

  “I can make Basinia honor their agreement of peace. I can guarantee sanctuary for your children, your old, your sick—everyone. I can do more, even. I can make you the matriarch of all the Wildmen. You could be queen.” Sacha stopped almost close enough to touch the other woman. She lifted one hand as if she might do just that.

  “Keep away from her, witch!” shouted the interpreter, surging to his feet. Somehow he had gotten himself free of his shackles.

  Sacha watched him come. His eyes were wild, popping from his dirty face as he rushed her with a growling snarl and reaching hands. At the last instant, she dropped an invisible barrier of force between herself and the raging Wildman.

  The sickening snap of bones breaking was clearly audible as he smashed into the shield. Stunned, he stumbled backward to land in the dirt, flat on his back. Sacha wasn’t sure what part of the man had broken, but it wasn’t fatal. He rolled slowly from side to side. Mewling sounds came from him as he gasped in agonized bursts.

  “Sloane!” Alexander’s panicked voice preceded him by a bare instant as he came charging into the tent with his sword at the ready. Two other soldiers, including the one she had already chided, were hot at his heels. The trio shambled to a halt when they saw Sacha standing calmly with the Wildman dazed and bleeding in the dirt.

  “We are almost finished here,” Sacha said, not taking her eyes from Lauren. “Please check the rest of their bonds and leave us for just a few more moments.”

  “I will not—” he began, but she overrode his protests.

  “Please,” Sacha said, looking away from Lauren to lock eyes with her husband. “We are about to come to an understanding.”

  Alexander motioned to the dazed man. “I don’t like this. Are you sure…?” He let the words hang in the air between them.

  Sacha nodded. “There is nothing here to threaten me further.” She blew a breath of power at his mind with a kiss, stroking the agitated vibrations she could see in his signature. There was no need to do more. He wanted to believe she could do this.

/>   The soldiers resecured the groaning man and removed the splinter of bone that had been jammed in the lock of his hasp. They roughly checked the rest of the prisoners, including Lauren, while Alexander watched with worry. She could tell from the way his eyes moved that he was willing himself to trust in her.

  “As you wish, Princess,” he finally managed. He followed the soldiers out of the tent, turning back only once just before the flaps dropped, leaving Sacha and Lauren facing each other with only the Wildmen to watch what happened next.

  Despite the interruption, the intensity in the room was almost electric. The eyes of all the prisoners were upon her except for those of the translator, who was still rocking back and forth, cradling his hands and face.

  “As you can see, my words carry weight,” Sacha continued, gesturing toward the tent flaps. “You will be queen of your people and usher in their new life of prosperity.”

  Lauren watched her, eyes still wide. “You’re serious.”

  Sacha nodded.

  “What of him?” Lauren asked, pointing at the goblin who stared venomously at them both. “And others like him?”

  Lauren’s question had brought their conversation to the point Sacha had been dreading. She’d known she would have to prove herself to whoever the Wildman leader ended up being. If this deal was to last, it had to be genuine. It had to be built on trust and faith, and Sacha had to be able to give Lauren something she couldn’t get on her own.