Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5) Read online

  “Or stupid.” Shanti motioned them forward. To Sanders she said, “You will wait for the signal from Kallon before you leave the city. Once it’s given, get across the open landscape and into deep cover as fast as you can. From there…let your intuition guide you and keep your eyes open.”

  Sanders looked at the Captain for a beat. Not getting any kind of response, he shook his head. “How will we know when to come back?”

  “Someone will find you and tell you.” Shanti waited by the gate, knowing that there was enough light for the enemy to kill them with arrows as they ran out into the night. She only hoped the range of their Gifted wasn’t strong enough to pick up their movements inside the city.

  Failing that, she hoped they were still adopting a “wait and see” kind of mentality.

  Steeling her courage, she let her mind meld with the darkness, feeling the cool night on the inside of her eyelids and the small hairs around her head disturbed in the breeze.

  The soft sounds of distant crickets drifted on the breeze, no gap in their music. The stillness relaxed her and let her use her senses in a way impossible when relying totally on the Gift. The training in the Shadow Lands came back to her.

  With that thought, she felt Sonson by the other gate with Boas, the two best Shadow at hunting in the dark. They would excel in this. She hoped that would also keep them alive.

  “Okay.” Deep breath. Everyone had to make it back from this, and this had to work, or the Graygual would just pick them off one by one in the days ahead. Shanti knew it. They all did. “Let’s go.”

  Shanti ran from the gate, feeling and listening for anything that might announce an attack. Leaves rustled, making her flinch, but no arrows came.

  Their feet pounded across the hard ground, loud despite their light feet. A bush wiggled on their right. Shanti’s heart leapt.

  Nothing came.

  Breath coming quickly, they slipped into the cover of trees, each pausing beside a large trunk. Listening.

  The night’s soft sounds greeted them again, competing with the beating of her heart. Crickets sang, uninterrupted by them or anyone else.

  Sighing, Shanti led the way until they found a thick grouping of trees and bushes. She crouched down and felt Cayan’s hand rest on her shoulder for a moment. The peace and tranquility in his touch, and radiating through his mind, stilled her. They had made it, safely. So far so good.

  Their Gift roamed and searched, finding nothing but animals and friends.

  Quietly, utterly still, they waited. Patient.

  Across the city, Kallon and Tanna ran out, finding the trees as easily as Shanti’s group had. They walked for a while, and then stopped as well. Their minds settled. Finally Sonson slipped out of the side gate. Shanti touched the minds around the wall, spaced according to Cayan’s instructions, checking in. This would be the optimum time for the Graygual to sneak into the city if they could avoid the bait.

  A stray thought passed through Shanti’s mind: That was easy.

  Too easy?

  The sound of crickets deadened to their right. Like a large black patch in the blanket of glittering stars above, the absence rang out louder than a shout. Louder still was the lack of living things in that area. Minds of animals and humans were silent.

  The Gifted was there.

  Slowly, consistently, a path of deadened sound headed their way.

  A moment later, without warning, her Gift was stripped away.

  The Graygual were taking the bait.

  12

  “Kallon just mind-gouged me. That’s the signal. You boys know what to do?”

  Marc stared at Sanders with the familiar feeling of acid burning his throat. A fleeting thought of the doctor, left at home, no doubt warm in his bed, came to him. As soon as that man retired, Marc had a viable out of the army business.

  A hard finger prodded his chest, jolting him out of his reverie.

  “Well?” Sanders leaned toward him just enough to convey the impatience in his crazy eyes. “Do you know what to do, Dorothy?”

  Dorothy?

  “Yes, sir.” Marc tapped his knives, and then touched his sword, making sure. Alena’s swallow was audible. Leilius shifted from one foot to the other.

  Sanders nodded, scowled at Leilius, and then stared at Xavier for a beat. “Keep the doctor alive. You have the second most important job of this outfit. You got that?”

  “What’s the most important job?” Leilius asked in a quivering voice. He didn’t seem any better at dealing with this sort of thing than Marc, despite having had plenty of practice.

  “Killing those Graygual,” Gracas answered.

  “Keeping the Shoo-lan alive, you nincompoop. Without her, we’re all dead. Which is why this harebrained plan is a bad idea.” Sanders cocked his head. The pop and cracks of the Commander’s neck made Marc’s teeth clench. “Why we are letting Shanti call the shots on this is beyond me.” Sanders turned and stared out at the night before his gaze swung left suddenly. His whole body bristled.

  He turned around and started pushing everyone back into the city. “Get away from that gate. They’re out there.”

  “Who? The Graygual?” Rachie asked in a hush, backing up quickly. Marc was right behind him.

  “They are going after the Shoo-lan. I’ll be damned.” Sanders started hustling everyone to the left, shoving and pushing them through the streets. “We need to get behind them.”

  “How do you know?” Xavier asked, helping to get everyone moving.

  “The crickets went quiet.” Sanders started jogging, yanking Leilius along with him. “On the trade route, you know there is a predator in the midst if crickets go quiet or birds scream. Same thing applies here.”

  “How do we know they are both there?” Marc asked, hustling along with everyone else as sweat dripped down his back. It was a clear sign he was headed into danger.

  “We know they are close, or whoever wasn’t protected would already be dead.” Sanders stopped by the next gate. Marc hated how small the city was. “Okay, shut up.”

  Listening for the sound of crickets, Marc closed his eyes and drank in the sound, remembering how fast they moved and how terrified Leilius was of being face to face with one of them again.

  This was a bad idea.

  “Let’s go.” Sanders jogged out with his body bent and his head looking all around. Gracas and Rachie went immediately after. Leilius waited for Alena, and headed out next, leaving Marc and Xavier.

  “C’mon,” Xavier whispered furiously, grabbing Marc’s arm. “You do this better than anyone else.”

  “I hate that fact.” Marc swallowed, matching Alena for sound, and jogged out of the safety of the city.

  As the walls fell away, the big, bare night reached out and grabbed him, offering nowhere to hide. Space stretched out to the sides, putting their flight across the open completely on display. Ahead, crouching in the darkness, lay protruding stumps and discarded branches, trying to catch their feet and slow them down.

  This was the absolute worst gate to leave through, which was why no one was planned to. Here they were, completely exposed to anyone with a bow in hand.

  Marc put on a burst of speed, running in front of Alena and Leilius and forcing Xavier to hustle to catch up. Then he overtook Sanders and nearly dove into the trees, so desperate to be under cover he couldn’t think straight. Once there, he huddled down and caught his breath, fighting his fear with the need to survive.

  Sanders jabbed him in the shoulder before pointing to the right and then up. He did the same to Xavier. Xavier nodded and plucked at Marc’s shirt.

  Marc shook his head. His panic hadn’t quite overcome the fear. He was still mostly frozen solid.

  Sanders’ big, heavy hand slapped down on Marc’s shoulder.

  “You have this in you, boy,” Sanders said. “Keep your wits and use your intuition. Xavier will prevent anyone from sticking a knife in your gut.”

  Marc winced again from the heavy, manly slaps. When it ended, he too
k a deep breath and refused to think about what he was doing, and how stupid it was to be outside the walls with the Graygual. Instead, he focused on remaining as quiet as possible as he wound his way up and over, probably above S’am on the hillside. His foot fell softly and precisely, the effort slow and tedious. Xavier didn’t complain, just kept pace and stayed silent. They didn’t need to voice that their life depended on not being detected.

  After a while, the music of the night surrounded them. Marc closed his eyes and listened, thinking he could hear a couple patches where the sound was dead. Chances were that he was mistaken, but he couldn’t worry about that now. Instead, he sat there. He’d never been able to sneak up on S’am, even in the Shadow Lands when she didn’t have her mental power. She could hear him, or sense him, and often see him.

  But that one time he had refused to play her game and just sat? She’d been annoyed and come to him. She’d had to get really close before she sensed him, and if she had been the enemy, he could’ve had her. Maybe. Hopefully, because that was the strategy he was employing. And if they never crossed his path? So much the better.

  Xavier plucked at his sleeve. Marc shrugged him away. Xavier plucked again, a little more insistently. Marc slapped his hand.

  Something skittered in the brush. A rock being kicked down.

  Animals didn’t kick rocks.

  The breath caught in Marc’s throat. Xavier went rigid beside him. The crickets all around them had fallen silent.

  Something was above them. Oh shit.

  Breathing deeply and evenly, Marc did not move. Not a single muscle. Not even a twitch. Xavier, thank all that was holy, did the same, relying on Marc to lead with his fear. A presence pushed at Marc’s back.

  His muscles started to quiver, the urge to run almost overcoming him. A tiny sound reached his ears. No more than a single blade of grass rubbing against a pant leg.

  His breathing started to get shallow. He held his knife in a tightly gripping fist. The presence drew nearer, but still he did not move. Xavier next to him, his breath soft even in contrast to Marc’s, hopefully knew what was coming, and planned to attack.

  The presence stopped just above them. This was it. Now or never.

  Deadness soaked up the air around them, the animals sensing the top of the food chain in their midst. They’d already become used to Shanti and Cayan sitting there. This was someone else.

  A sensation niggled at her awareness. Something out in the night caught her attention. Like a bright light in a deep cave, she felt the presence nearing her. Death seethed, something lethal stalking closer, utterly silent.

  Breath, deep and even, entered and left her body. Emptiness crouched around them—no Gift, no sound. Full of danger. The grasses and brush felt scratchy against her body. She soaked in Cayan’s heat and Rohnan’s supportive warmth, and let the awareness and anxiety of that skilled Graygual enter her consciousness, then flow back out. She was at one.

  A rush of movement had her on her feet with sword in hand before she knew what was happening. Arms swung downward with a sword hilt between them. The blade caught the pale glimmer of the moon. She threw her sword up to block. Cayan, on his feet at the same time as she was, sliced down at a man in black. Someone bore down from behind. A sword fell toward Rohnan’s head. Shanti didn’t even have time to call out.

  13

  The crack of metal on metal robbed Marc of his focus for just a moment. Somewhere below him, in the trees, S’am was fighting.

  Marc bit down on his lip with the urge to jump up and rush down to help her. He tightened his hand on his knife and continued to wait, hoping the person above him would continue moving. A yell pierced the night. Someone ran out of the gate and stared up at the hill.

  She needs help, you idiot! Go!

  A rustling sounded ten feet away, running back up the hill. Without warning, Xavier popped up like a groundhog, spun, threw something, and then started charging up the hill.

  “Oh shit!” Marc jumped up after him, taking the blade of the knife and readying to throw.

  Xavier dove into a group of trees. A grunt and sounds of fighting competed with the clashing of metal below. Marc sprinted up the hill. His foot hit a root then caught in weeds, making him stagger. He righted himself and charged onward, reaching Xavier as he punched someone beneath him.

  “Here, I’ll get him!” Marc changed the position of the knife and tried to get around the two men as they rolled around the brush. “Here!”

  Marc bobbed and then weaved, seeing an opportunity to stick his blade in the enemy’s side. He dropped to the ground and readied the attack when Xavier’s hammy fist came up and knocked him in the ear.

  The world swam for a moment as Marc spun. He landed on his face on the mulch-covered ground. After wiping away a small stone that had stuck in his cheek, he crawled back up and searched for the dropped knife. Unable to find it, he yanked out another and scrambled toward Xavier, ready for another go.

  “Hurry, help me!” Xavier said frantically, pinning the man to the ground with his knee in the center of the man’s back.

  “Holy crap, you got him!” Elation filled Marc as he put his knife away and braced his hands on the man’s legs.

  “No, you idiot—tie his hands behind his back.”

  Marc took the small ties from Xavier and worked around to get the unconscious man’s wrists next to each other behind his back. He looped the rope around a little tighter than necessary and tied it off. “Should I do his feet?”

  “Yeah. I’ll carry him.”

  Marc worked at the legs, getting them squared away before standing up and trying to catch his breath. Xavier bent forward and placed two fingers on the man’s neck. When he straightened, he braced his hands on his hips and looked in the direction of the sword-fighting. “Why are they still fighting? This should be the guy.”

  “Which guy?” Marc bent to peer at the man’s face, still feeling the pull of S’am in trouble and needing help.

  “The mental worker. I assume he is, anyway. He’s too scrawny to be a Graygual.”

  “Is he wearing all black?” Marc squinted down at the dark clothes against the dark ground.

  “No way of telling. But who else would it be?”

  “A Mugdock?”

  Xavier turned and faced Marc. His face dipped toward the ground. “Oh crap. Quick, help me check. The mental worker might still be out there.”

  Cayan’s sword blocked the strike before his body pushed the Graygual to the side, letting Rohnan duck out of the way.

  In a rush of sweet sensation, the blanket covering Shanti’s Gift ripped off her mind. The cunning mind of the Graygual in front of her sparked to life, cool and intent, but also curious. The Graygual behind was perplexed. Somewhere above her, Marc and Xavier were active, worried, and eager.

  “Uh oh,” Shanti said with a grin, circling the Graygual. “Your trip to the afterlife has just been guaranteed.”

  “It was always guaranteed. It will just come a little sooner. Will you hide behind your power, or will you fight?” The Graygual’s sword slashed out, fast and precise.

  She blocked his thrust and countered with one of her own, hacking at him before backing off then using a smooth strike. He flicked her thrust away and countered, the same precise style in nearly the same thrust. He was trained to within an inch of his life, she had no doubt, but his style showed little variety.

  She had learned during her travels. She’d become better.

  She stepped forward, skipping inside his reach, and hacked again, fast and brutal. He moved to the side, and she moved with him, expecting the counter and then receiving it. She kicked out, connecting her foot to his side before slashing back down. He staggered but blocked before spinning around. His thrust was almost unexpected.

  That was a new trick. She’d have to adopt that.

  She stepped forward and thrust as a blade swiped the air behind the Graygual. It hooked in the back of his neck and raked across.

  “No, Rohnan!” Shan
ti stabbed forward, getting her blade in his gut before the Graygual crumpled to the ground. “Blast it. He was mine.”

  “He registered his defeat. He knew you would win.”

  “So? I wanted the victory, you thief.”

  “You would’ve played with him, and we don’t have time.” Rohnan cleaned his blade before bending to check the body.

  “I would have learned more about his fighting style to make it easier to take down his kind the next time.” Disappointed, Shanti moved so she could see Cayan fighting the other one. He hadn’t used his Gift either, probably thinking like she had. Or maybe relishing the challenge.

  He moved forward to attack, fast and powerful. His thrust was vicious and quick. The Graygual knocked it away and pivoted. Cayan was ready with the next attack, battering at him. The Graygual turned again, and again, slower than Cayan and knowing it.

  “He knows he has lost, as well. He is surprised that a man can best him.” Rohnan moved forward with his staff.

  “Don’t do it, Rohnan!” Shanti spread her arm across Rohnan’s chest to hold him back. “Let him learn from this Graygual. It’ll make him better.”

  Cayan slashed through the other’s arm, a deep cut that might’ve sliced close to the bone. The Graygual didn’t so much as grunt. Arm dangling, he stepped forward with another thrust, slowed with pain. Cayan batted the strike away, met the advance with his own, and ran his blade through the other’s gut.

  “He’ll head-butt—”

  As if on cue, the Graygual bent forward. Cayan arched back to evade but didn’t move in time. The man’s head crashed into Cayan’s jaw. A blast of power rocked out from Cayan, scorching the man in front of him. He convulsed then went slack. His body slid limply to the ground.

  Cayan glanced down at the man before turning to survey Shanti. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew his gaze was scouring her body, making sure she was okay. That done, he bent to the man and used the fabric to wipe his blade.

  “This one used the same style of fighting as the one last night,” Shanti said. “As the one you fought.”