Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5) Read online

  Siege

  K.F. Breene

  Contents

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  Also by K.F. Breene

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Try Another Book by K.F. Breene

  Also by K.F. Breene

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by K.F. Breene

  All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this ebook are figments of the author’s imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.

  Created with Vellum

  Synopsis

  The land has become unnaturally quiet. It’s as if everyone is waiting for some sign that Xandre can be beaten. That someone will stand up to him, and win.

  With Shanti calling the shots, and Cayan’s battle know-how, it seems certain that the Chosen can be the catalyst. That they can lead the oppressed to freedom.

  But Xandre didn’t become the Being Supreme by chance, and he doesn’t intend for his rule to be stripped away so easily. He has already started to gather his forces, and with the entire land under his control, gaining a foothold seems impossible.

  The final battle is brewing, and the winner is anything but decided…

  Also by K.F. Breene

  Darkness Series

  Into the Darkness

  Braving the Elements

  On a Razor’s Edge

  Demons

  The Council

  Shadow Watcher

  Jonas

  Charles

  Warrior Chronicles

  Chosen

  Hunted

  Shadow Lands

  Invasion

  Siege

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  1

  Shanti squared off against Kallon, the two most promising fighters the Shumas had. One had already been declared leader by the death of her father. It was universally thought that the other should step into the leadership role, traditions notwithstanding. Times were changing. Their people were under threat. As a people, they must look to who would lead them to victory and fulfill the duty of the Chosen.

  But he hadn’t been chosen.

  Shanti’s fist tightened on her practice sword as her grandfather looked on, his face stern but expression devoid of his desired outcome of this fight.

  Kallon stood patiently with a passive face. Clearly, he wanted her to make the first move.

  Shanti took a hesitant step to the right, wondering if she should circle him and feint a few times to try to draw him out, or just rush him. She’d failed at both often enough that her body was decorated in bruises.

  It wasn’t fair. Kallon was a couple years older. That was the only reason he was stronger, faster, and more agile. He’d already grown into his body, and he’d been doing this longer. His perfect technique and quick learning enhanced his natural ability, like anyone’s would. Like hers would, eventually. For now she was nothing but a lanky eleven-year-old, gangly and jerky, but by the time she hit her mid-teens, people would say the stars were her limit, as well.

  She feinted forward, ready for him to block her pretend thrust so she could stab him in the side. Her sword hit its zenith and slowed as her eyebrows rose, needing him to commit.

  Just be fooled, blast it, Kallon! she thought in desperation.

  He didn’t so much as twitch. He watched her with those cool gray eyes.

  She pivoted and put more force behind her sword, bluntly thrusting it the rest of the way. With a flash of movement, Kallon swung his wooden blade in an arc, knocking away her sword as he stepped to the side. He resumed his patient pose instead of going for a kill strike.

  He wasn’t the fool, she was. He was making that perfectly clear.

  Shanti jogged backward before noticing her grandfather’s expression darkening.

  Oh yeah, she wasn’t supposed to retreat.

  She jerked to a stop and placed a hesitant foot to the left. Time to circle. She needed to think this through.

  Truth be told, she hated this slow approach. How would this help them? The enemy, when they came, wouldn’t just stand around and wait for her to come up with a perfect sword thrust. They’d charge her, and then feel the wrath of her Gift.

  This was a no-Gift fight, though. They’d gang up on her if she used it…

  “Blast it.” She sent a hard thrust with her mind, ramming his shield with her might. He staggered backward.

  Her grin was short-lived.

  A moment later, her brain was scored with hot needles. Fire blistered her eyes and knives racked her body. Blood oozed down her skin like acid, burning away everywhere it touched. Her scream sent birds to flight. She hit the ground in a ball before a shock wave of her Gift speared the others, lashing out at the minds attacking her. The pain diminished enough for her to uncurl and stare at her limbs.

  No blood.

  Another wave of attack punched her, but she was ready. She grappled with the power before stabbing out, hard bursts of power beating away her attackers.

  She snatched her sword off the ground, and with a wild cry, barreled into Kallon with everything she had. She hacked at him before her body crashed into his. She ignored the pain that set her scalp on fire and sent two hard punches into his sides. Their bodies hit the ground. He rolled her under him and brought his fist away to deliver a blow.

  Her power blasted him, making him hesitate. She head-butted him. The cartilage in his nose cracked. The mental assault lessened slightly.

  Shanti heaved with all her strength, knocking him to the side. She squirmed and twisted, using all the muscle in her smaller body to turn him the rest of the way. Blood gushed down his face as she straddled him in a haze of violence. Her hands worked quickly, peppering him with blows as the mental assault from everyone else in the clearing tore at her thoughts.

  Pain blossomed in her side. Kallon’s fist struck a second time, smacking against her ribs.

  “Just let me beat you!” she yelled.

  She pumped more power into her mental attack as something niggled at her awareness. A presence of some sort. It wasn’t the pain and power she’d known all her life from the people in this clearing; it was the distant aura of something foreign.

  She froze. A fist knocked her backward, tumbling her off Kallon. The mental assault from the others died away as hers did. Kallon scrambled to his feet, ready to claim his victory.

  She stopped paying attention to the fight and focused in on that mind. It was analytical and precise, male, and searching. A mind was like that when it was hunting.

  “What is it?” Kallon asked, crouching down beside her.

  “Someone…” Shanti closed her eyes and followed her training. She spread her Gift farther, covering their lands in a circle. Behind them, in the villages, lay the mental hum of those she recognized, going about their day. She felt no unusual fear or anxiety. She peeled her Gift away and directed it toward the mind that was slowly working closer. He was en route to the most northern village. Her village.

  “There’s someone coming…” She was on her feet in an instant. She wiped her
arm across her face, smearing blood across her cheek.

  “Is he Gifted?” Her grandfather motioned for the others to file in.

  “No.” Shanti jogged to her sword. After strapping it on, she glanced around at the others. Her grandfather stared at her expectantly.

  She needed to take charge. It was her birthright.

  She still didn’t really know how.

  Her grandfather had told her that it would come naturally, like it had with him. Like it had with her father. He’d tried to guide her, with little success.

  She glanced at Kallon. A silent plea for help.

  “Should we move closer and observe, or should we surround and capture?” Kallon asked with battle-ready eyes.

  A few people shifted. They knew he was guiding her. They would question whether he was helping…or trying to take over.

  She couldn’t think about that now.

  Her chin rose and she met her grandfather’s expectant stare before letting her gaze travel over the others who had gathered, all older. Kallon might’ve been the best, but she was the youngest to ever reach the top tier of fighters. That had to be good for something.

  “We’ll surround him silently,” she said. “I will then step out. I want to see his reaction and feel his purpose, if I can. Is he Xandre’s eyes, or is he merely curious? Hopefully this will give us some insight.”

  She barely noticed her grandfather’s curt nod.

  Without delay, she started jogging through the trees, feeling the others jostle in behind her, a little too close for comfort. “Fan out,” Shanti said in a low voice. “Stay silent.”

  “We need to join our mental Gifts, Chosen,” Kallon said. “We can’t feel things the way you can. Our range isn’t as great.”

  Shanti mentally kicked herself. That should’ve been the first thing she’d done.

  She felt the battering of Gifts hitting against her. Some came in with a weird heat, stuffing into her head like a hot poker into the fire. Some slid right in, cool and certain.

  “Stay calm,” her grandfather instructed, his breath coming in fast pants. He was getting too old for their fast pace. “Keep your Gift contained. Retain your focus. You must attack your adversary with a level head.”

  She would attack her adversary with a sword and a snarl, actually, but she didn’t say anything. They were getting close now.

  “Can you feel him through me?” she asked Kallon beside her.

  “Yes we can. Just like in practice. We’re close enough for most of us to be able to feel him ourselves, now.” Kallon glanced behind him before motioning for the others to spread out. She gritted her teeth and held a hand up to slow everyone down, regaining control. She slid behind a tree trunk and stopped. The stranger moved toward them, no more than fifty steps away. She mouthed, “Wait.”

  Kallon’s expression transformed into one of frustrated confusion. He shook his head.

  “We wait,” she whispered.

  His face cleared. Many of the others nodded and fanned out a little further.

  Shanti closed her eyes, analyzing. The stranger seemed intelligent and cunning, processing the area around him quickly and efficiently. Though he moved swiftly, she didn’t hear him. There were no snapped twigs or swishing foliage. He knew how to move through wilderness without being seen or heard.

  Shanti moved slowly, putting herself in line with his forward movement. Confusion and frustration colored the fighters around her. She waved her hand, trying to get them to keep their positions. Mela wrinkled her brow and shook her head. Dannon glowered.

  They had no idea what she was trying to do. There had to be a better way to communicate silently…

  A soft footfall reverberated in Shanti’s ears. The slide of a hand on bark.

  She took a deep breath before slowly easing her sword out of its sheath. She glanced at Kallon, raising her eyebrows with the slightest of nods. Ready?

  His brow furrowed and he shook his head. Duh…

  Unable to speak for fear of being heard, she hoped her people would understand as she stepped out from behind the tree. The stranger straightened up in surprise, his eyes going wide and his hand reaching to the knife on his belt. The black of his uniform with its three red stripes burnt into her brain. A surge of rage made her tighten her hand on her sword.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, willing for the level head her grandfather spoke of.

  His eyes darted around, no doubt looking for other Shumas. They came back to rest on hers. “Looking for you, of course. My master, the Being Supreme, would love to speak with you.”

  A feeling of violence whispered into the mental thread. Shanti ignored it, wondering why they weren’t fanning out around him. Why they were sitting where they were, watching. “He has asked before. We told him no.”

  “Actually, you killed the messenger.”

  “Same thing. Why did you really come?”

  A sickly grin coated his face. “Your people were a mystery. Now they are a riddle. Soon they will all be in the Being Supreme’s possession, as they should be. But you…he has great plans for you. You should be honored.”

  Shanti sneered. “A man who kills innocence should be killed. Surround him!”

  In a rush of movement, he tossed the knife up and deftly grabbed the blade. A shock of fear had Shanti diving to the side as the knife sailed past her, just missing her shoulder. She hit the ground, yelling, “Don’t kill him. Capture him!”

  The man was running as Kallon leapt out, his sword in hand. He bent to Shanti, checking to see if she was okay.

  “Get him!” she shouted, scrambling to her feet. She latched on to the intruder’s mind as he fled, ready to deliver a soft blow to halt his progress.

  Sayas tripped over Tulous, as both tried to slip between the same trees in pursuit. Mela had taken position in a small, open space, sighting an arrow.

  “Don’t shoot!” Shanti yelled.

  Too late. Mela let go of the bowstring. An arrow zipped out as three people stabbed, or struck, adding to Shanti’s punch. As the intruder’s body stumbled, already dying from the mental assault, the arrow hit him in the center of his back.

  He hadn’t had a chance.

  Neither had Shanti.

  It was her first real attempt at leading, and she had failed. Miserably.

  “Flak,” she said as she slumped.

  “They are coming more often now,” Kallon said with his hands on his hips. “That must mean the battle is getting closer.”

  “They could’ve been coming all the time.” Mela lowered her bow, her eyes still on the downed body. “Shanti—I mean Chosen—is better with her Gift. She has felt the last three spies.”

  “Xandre is gathering information.” Shanti’s grandfather stopped beside her, his disapproval plain on his face. He’d expected more from her. “When he has all he needs, he will attack. If that is soon, then we won’t be ready.”

  Shanti watched him walk away with a stiff back. His message was plain: if she didn’t form a cohesive fighting team from her people, and then again when they joined the Shadow, she would fail as the prophesied. She would kill them all.

  2

  Sanders walked out of the gate with a surly expression and a can-do attitude. What the hell women were doing wearing britches and toting bows he had no idea, but lately it had become part of his life whether he liked it or not. His apparent ease in accepting Shanti had made him perfect for the role of overseeing the new female recruits…or so the Captain said.

  Plain foolishness, that’s what that was. He hated the post. A bunch of know-it-alls, the lot of them. And why point out that he stank every time? It wasn’t like he could take a bath in between training sessions.

  He had a wife. He didn’t need any more women to argue with him.

  They did not respond well when he explained that.

  Grinding his teeth, he glanced up at the sentry. A cold-eyed Shuma stared back down at him.

  Tingles worked through Sanders’ body. His fists tightened in r
esponse. “You should be scanning your surroundings, not watching me pass by your tree,” he barked.

  The Shuma—Kallon—tapped his temple. “I am watching without my eyes.”

  “Anyone ever tell you staring was rude?”

  “Yes.”

  Sanders grunted and continued by, feeling the sentry’s gaze pound into his back. It was impossible to tell if Kallon was joking or being dead serious, but neither would change the constant, assessing stare that seemed to follow everyone and everything around. Annoying, that.

  “Quit standing around, lollygagging!” Sanders yelled as he got within earshot of a bunch of chattering women standing in a line. A couple jumped, their hands flying to their chests. A few flinched and their arrows went off course. Three released their arrows, completely cool, as if unaware of him. The points of all struck the target. One was a bull’s-eye.

  Those three were great finds. It almost made dealing with these training sessions worth it.

  “Is it really necessary to yell like that?” Fabienne scolded.

  Sanders gritted his teeth, refusing to answer the older woman at the end of the row. “Maggie, excellent shot. Alena and Ruisa, also great job. The rest of you, you need to work on blocking everything that’s going on around you when you’re focusing on the shot.”

  Sanders felt a presence off to his right. He turned, belatedly spotting one of the female Shumas—Mela, he thought—crouching amongst the foliage. The woman was as quiet and still as the grave, watching him with luminous, sorrowful eyes. Turbulent eyes, desecrated by war. It was enough to make a man want to hug her. Almost.

  “What are you staring at?” He let his hand rest on his sword.

  “Not block out…take in.” Mela drifted closer with the graceful slide of a skilled swordswoman. “Try to ignore and all you do is hear. Accept your surroundings, and become one with it.”

  Sanders clasped his hands behind his back and squeezed his eyes shut for one moment. Pulling patience out of his ass and hoping it would stick around, he forced a smile. “Thank you for your insight, but in our army, we have a chain of command. They answer to me, and you answer to Shanti. I’ll do my job; she’ll tell you what yours is. How does that sound?”