Invasion (The Warrior Chronicles, 4) Read online

  A crawling sensation filled Kallon’s stomach. His hand tightened on his sword. “I could make you suffer. I could exact justice for the things you’ve done.” Kallon wiped and then sheathed his blade. The man staggered, clutching his sides. “But I could never torture you the same way your brethren will.”

  Kallon turned and walked toward the horses. “Swap out our rides for any that are better, and send the rest of the horses on their way. Leave his food.”

  “Wait…what are you doing?” the man begged. He staggered toward Kallon.

  “I’m leaving you to the Graygual.” Kallon threw a bag of food to the ground.

  “No! Please.” The man stumbled, falling to his hands and knees. “No. Let me go.”

  “Not so sure of yourself now, are you?” Mela asked with a disgusted expression.

  “You must’ve known this would happen.” Sayas put his hands on his hips, surveying the man. “Obviously you were going to get caught eventually. Any fool would have known that.”

  “The army is stretched too thinly.” The man reached out imploringly for Sayas. “The officers are in short supply. Please, I can show you the way. After I killed the officer, I’ve been avoiding the Graygual for months.”

  Kallon jingled a satchel of gold and silver, then put it into his pocket. “It looks like your luck has run out.”

  A shock of pain ripped through Kallon’s mind. The Inkna on their trail were in range.

  He threw up his shields and felt everyone else do the same. “Grab the horses. Go! We’re out of time.”

  “They’re gaining on us, Kallon,” Mela said, slapping the butt of a shaggy mount. She grabbed the reins of another. “We have to move faster.”

  Kallon hesitated for a moment. He felt the Chosen’s call. He felt the need to go to her with a strength he hadn’t experienced before. Something in him said she was in grave danger, and the disorganization this Graygual deserter spoke of was due to Xandre focusing his mind elsewhere. There was only one person who would distract Xandre.

  On the other hand, if he ran now, he’d continue to be chased. He would lead the Graygual to the Chosen’s doorstep. If she wasn’t prepared for it, or had her own battles to fight, Kallon could single-handedly end this land’s hope.

  His gaze hit Mela. He was not able to decide if he should go or stay. A flat look of resignation gazed back.

  She’d had the same thoughts, and her choice was clear. They had to protect the Chosen with their lives if need be.

  They would have to stay and fight.

  Kallon looked around, analyzing their location. They were cutting across the land on a northern angle, aiming for the more densely wooded areas clustered at the base of the small Westwood mountain range. Currently their surroundings were mostly flat and open, great for a battle between large armies facing off, but horrible if their force was outnumbered. If they fought here, they’d be slaughtered.

  “We’ll go until we find a place we can defend,” Kallon said, action again. “We need to be smart about this. Let’s get moving. We haven’t much time.”

  Chapter Six

  “Oh my God, I’ve never wanted to see dry land so much in my life!” Rachie staggered off the dock and fell to his knees in the mud.

  “What about the first crossing?” Shanti asked, shouldering her pack as she stepped off behind him.

  “Too far back to remember.”

  She scanned the banks and the roads off to either side. There was not one Graygual uniform, as they’d seen from the approach. Unless their intentions were shielded from her Gift, as Burson’s might be, no one paid them any special attention, or seemed to be watching for them. They could’ve been any strangers landing on the banks.

  A sense of foreboding filled her as she walked toward the street leading up to the city.

  Rohnan fell in beside her. “How long will we stay here?”

  Shanti started toward the road leading to the heart of the town. “Just tonight. Cayan and the guys are eager to get home.”

  “I don’t blame them, and in their place, I would want to do the same thing, but I’m not sure it is the right plan.”

  “It’s not. It can’t be. Cayan and I can’t beat whatever the Hunter has prepared, and Sonson is a week behind us, at best. We’re probably walking into captivity.”

  “And yet you are still willing.”

  “I walked away once already, Rohnan. I walked away from our people being slaughtered. I will not do it again. Cayan and his people have given me life, they have sent men with me to gain the title of Chosen, and they trusted me when I said their people would be safe if I left. I was wrong. And now I will try to make that right. I will gladly trade places with his people if that is the only option.”

  Rohnan nodded once. He didn’t comment.

  “You don’t have to come,” Shanti said quietly.

  “You have to go for the Captain. I have to go for you. Sanders was right. If we aren’t fighting for family, what are we fighting for? Besides, you’ll need someone to rescue you. It’s my turn.”

  “You’ll probably have to fight Sanders for that job.” Shanti felt a surge of spiciness licking up her core, something she usually felt in the more intimate moments with Cayan. She turned back as she crested the hill, spotting him immediately as he stood at the end of the dock. His men were unloading the ship, walking past him to lay their needed travel equipment and supplies together on the ground.

  He didn’t move; he didn’t need to. She could feel his warning fizzing up her spine before it turned into a spike of fear. Finally, the complex feelings carrying a clear directive softened into overall warmth, infusing her body and tingling out through her limbs. He was telling her to stay out of trouble, but if she landed in it, to inform him with a shock of fear. The last was his mental version of calling her mesasha.

  She blew out a breath. They were almost better at speaking without words. They’d been practicing without meaning to, communicating with their Joining while in training, or from across the Shadow Lands. Or when entwined in each other’s bodies. It almost felt better to feel the meanings than hear the words.

  “I’ve really stuck my foot in it,” she mumbled, calling up the weighty feeling he would know as disgruntled acknowledgement.

  Shanti glanced around them, looking for anything suspicious. Her mind spread out, feeling for the same thing. The lateness of the afternoon meant many of the patrons had gone home, and now the traders’ stalls were being taken down and put away. A few people ambled along the path around them, one drunk and staggering. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was almost…normal.

  She mentioned the latter.

  “It is normal, Chulan. These people are living their life. They won’t understand the danger of the Graygual until it is upon them. Until then, they’ll carry on, looking after their families.”

  “The Graygual were here. It should’ve been upon them…”

  “When Xandre came through, he didn’t want his presence known. You were his goal, not this town.” Rohnan’s eyes were scanning faces. “I wonder about the way back, however. Why not capture the town then? Where are the Graygual now?”

  A spark of unease emerged in Shanti. Her mind raced, running through implications. “He’s clearing the path for me. He must be. He’s allowing me safe passage back.” She shook her head, the unease turning into a fire of doubt. Cayan’s response welled up, half supportive to calm her down, and half anxious, wondering what the problem was. “He is allowing me to get settled again. He must’ve made obvious deductions about my ties to Cayan.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  Shanti stopped in the middle of the lane, thinking. She’d spent her life learning about Xandre’s habits. She’d studied his battle awareness, his tactics, his movements. She was sure of his need to always acquire intelligence before carrying out his plans. She’d shaped him that way. In turn, he was studying her.

  She wandered off to the side of the street and leaned against the wall, contemplating.
Looking for deductions Xandre might’ve come to. And then she knew. As plain as day, she knew. She wasn’t a wanderer—Burson had gotten that wrong. She needed to be a wanderer.

  “What have I always done, Rohnan?” Shanti said as a sick feeling turned her stomach.

  “I can’t… I’m not following your emotion, Chulan.”

  She gave him a direct stare. “Our people knew Xandre would come for us. We knew it. And what did we do?”

  Rohnan’s brow furrowed. “Prepared…”

  “No. We waited. We dug in our heels, stayed right where we were, and we were annihilated. Then I left. And what did I do?”

  “You found a new place to call home.” Rohnan’s voice turned grave. “And now you are returning to it.”

  “Exactly.” Shanti rubbed her temples. “He is waving me through. Our people are not wanderers. We make a home, and we defend our home regardless of the odds. Despite my knowing I’ll never have one, I want a family. I want to live in peace with my mate. If I could choose, I’d choose Cayan and his city for that.”

  “You did choose…”

  Shanti hung her head. “And Xandre knows it.”

  “Do you think the Hunter is acting on Xandre’s orders?”

  “I doubt it. The Hunter’s failure should be shoved in everyone’s faces as a warning. But if Burson has figured out where he is, Xandre would’ve. He’s the bait to lure Cayan home, and me with him. Flak.”

  A passing woman jumped and clutched at her child, throwing Shanti a startled expression.

  Shanti pushed off from the wall, anger burning through her. “He is trying to strip from me everything I love, Rohnan. One at a time, he has peeled away the things that made me smile, leaving only death and decay. He is fighting only one war. I saw to that when I bested him the first time. His war is against me.”

  “You are fighting only one war, Chulan. Always were. Against him.”

  Shanti felt the weight of her sword heating her back. “Yes. Exactly. I’ve been blind. We don’t need armies, Rohnan. We don’t need to consolidate forces. We need stealth and the cover of darkness. We need Burson and our people, not a city and its resources.” She blew out a breath and thought about punching something. Rohnan took a step back. “I can’t leave Cayan, though. He is the other half of my power. Together we are a force. I was right about that.”

  She clenched her fists and eyed the wall.

  “I do not recommend punching a hard surface, Chulan. Surely you’ve learned that lesson by now.”

  Shanti flexed, trying to work out the frustration. “I need to speak to Burson. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Will you send Cayan on alone?”

  Shanti flexed again. She shook her hands and swung her arms, trying to work out the aggression. “No. How could I? Xandre’s got me by the lady-balls.”

  “He moves slowly. You move quickly. His strengths are in planning, yours are in action. We need to play to your strengths to keep him from using his.”

  Shanti rolled her head, loosening up her neck. Rohnan was right. She needed to take action. But one thing at a time. “This is turning into a bad day.”

  “You started it.”

  “A bar fight might be in my future.”

  “Let’s find a place to stay, and then we’ll find a different place to start a fight.”

  It was sound logic.

  They walked down the wide lane until they came to an inn with a chipped sign and paint peeling off the front. “They’ll let us in, I bet.”

  “They’d admit a flea-ridden dog.” Rohnan plucked at her shirt. “Let’s go somewhere that doesn’t make us scratch for the rest of the journey.”

  She glanced down at her clothes. They were the Shadow stylings, but with holes, some stains, and the general smell of sweat and filth from being at sea for nearly a week without a bath.

  “I’ve been refused lodgings when I’ve looked this travel-stained before, Rohnan.”

  Rohnan pulled her toward a glistening sign featuring a plow with a backdrop of stars. “Your journey must’ve been awful, Chulan. You have my sympathy. But then, if you were in any way personable, things probably would’ve been different.”

  He walked into the inn like he was nobility. His white-blond head, messed and a little greasy though it was, was held high. His shoulders were straight, even with the rumpled and stained coat he wore. His eyes glittered with self-importance and his face was pointed at the world regardless of the smudge of dirt on his cheek. It was as if he wasn’t aware of what he looked like.

  “Hello,” he said in the trader’s dialect, his lips quirked in an almost-smile.

  The man behind the counter looked up from his book and surveyed Rohnan. His brow creased in distaste. At Rohnan’s continued gaze, his expression bent toward confused. “Yeah?”

  “Yes.” Rohnan gave him a slight bow. “I will be needing several rooms, baths, and meals for the night.” Rohnan’s hand dropped, grazing the slight bulge in his pocket. Gold?

  Did Cayan give Rohnan gold? Or did he steal it…

  The man’s gaze turned shrewd. “I’ve got five rooms.” The man leaned his hammy arms against the counter. “Three gold pieces each.”

  “Oh my no, that is outrageous.” Rohnan smiled and took another step toward the door.

  Shanti rolled her eyes as she felt Cayan drawing closer to the inn. In their shared language, she said, “I’ll get the horses. I don’t have the patience for your style of bartering.”

  “That is why you’re used to sleeping in bushes.”

  As Shanti left the inn, she muttered to herself, “You never get used to sleeping in bushes.”

  She saw Cayan walking up the lane. It was hard not to. His shoulders were wide enough to knock down buildings with each swing. The things should’ve had a warning attached.

  “What’s the problem?” Cayan asked as he drew near. A woman across the lane with her eyes glued on Cayan stumbled on a rock and swerved into the wall.

  Served her right for gawking, Shanti thought.

  “Nothing,” Shanti said, trying to calm her turbulent emotions from her conversation with Rohnan. To Cayan’s quirked eyebrow—lying was no longer an option with him—she followed with, “I’ll talk to you about it later. Rohnan is inside getting us rooms, so I figured we could—”

  “There isn’t anything nicer?” Cayan looked at the inn front with distaste.

  “Would you rather a castle? Elders have mercy!” Shanti started off toward the outskirts where Sea Farer, the ship’s captain, had said the main stables were located. “Let’s get some horses instead of standing around nickpicking.”

  “Nitpicking,” Cayan said as he fell in beside her.

  They caught Sanders coming up the path, a few of the Honor Guard walking doggedly behind him. “I caught these idiots pooling money to go to the whorehouse.” Sanders threw a thumb behind him at the three boys with red faces. “A bunch of nitwits, the lot of them.”

  “Rohnan is getting rooms at the inn.” Cayan pointed back the way they’d come. “Rachie and Gracas, you go up and meet him. Leilius, head back to the docks and get more gold. I have a feeling I didn’t bring enough up. Have Xavier carry it. You lads will have less problems that way.”

  “I could do with a problem or two.” Sanders punched his palm. Just like Shanti, aggression rolled off him. He was spoiling for a fight.

  Shanti would invite him to her party later. That flea-bitten inn would probably be great sport.

  “Yes, sir,” Rachie said as he and Gracas walked on, their faces still bright red and pointed at the ground.

  Leilius turned around and started jogging, not daring to look Shanti or the Captain in the eye.

  Sanders cracked his neck before glancing off at the boys hurrying away. “I was curious at that age, too. Didn’t think they’d want that question answered with a ruddy-faced working woman, though.”

  “They’ll thank you for it when they get older,” Cayan said as Shanti led the way to the horses, not at all surpris
ed when Sanders fell in with him. He knew horses better than anyone else in their group.

  “Are we sure we want to waste time staying in this town?” Sanders asked as they approached the stables. A row of stalls spread out in front of them, horses neighing and pawing at the ground. A loud thump sounded toward the end. Then another. It sounded like a horse was kicking its stall in a temper.

  “Everyone is tired. A bath, a hot meal, and a good bed is needed,” Shanti said as they stopped in front of a mangy brown animal lethargically chomping oats.

  “These are pitiful.” Sanders put his hands on his hips and spat. He meandered down the row of stalls, checking out the offerings.

  “Hello, hello!” A short, balding man walked up with a calculating eye and a relaxed demeanor.

  “Is this the best you have to offer?” Sanders asked.

  “Now, sir, these horses are some of the finest you’ve seen. Come from all over the land, they do. Fine horse stock here, yes sir. Mighty fine.”

  “Are you blind as well as a bad liar?” Sanders demanded. He gestured at the stall next to them. “That mare is hoping for a ride to the afterlife.”

  “Please, sir.” The man turned to Cayan, his cunning gaze starting to fray. “Tell me what you’re looking for and I will find it for you. Does the missus need…” The man looked at Shanti. He squinted a little. “A plow horse, maybe…”

  “Do I have shit on my face or something?” Shanti asked in exasperation. “It’s not like I’m wearing rags.”

  “Usually respectable women don’t look like the underside of a shoe,” Sanders said as he passed by, walking toward the other end of the line. “What do you have on the other side?”

  “Oh.” The man looked at Sanders with a grave expression. “They are very pricey on the other side. But we have some fine ones over here. See?” The man hastened to an older animal that looked more like a mule than a horse.