A Warlord's Lady (31 page)

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Authors: Nicola E. Sheridan

BOOK: A Warlord's Lady
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‘What do you mean?’ he repeated as the wail of Magical Ion Testing Devices broke through, and a barrage of curses could be heard through the weakened door.

‘The prophecy,’ Sabra murmured, and Cain felt his heart lurch.

Did she believe in it?

‘I don’t believe it,’ she said in answer to his unspoken question, ‘but I have realised something. If you in any way thought I was the woman mentioned in that prophecy, then I am the luckiest woman on earth — genetic history and background excluded.’

Cain laughed, and the thriae buzzed towards him.

‘We must go,’ they urged.

‘But the compound is under attack. It’s not safe to return there.’

He threw his mind back to Jürgen and Christy’s dismayed expressions as they’d slunk off into the surrounding jungle.

‘I think I may be able to help you with that,’ Sabra said softly, ‘but this time, I think you may just have to trust me.’

Cain found himself looking at her. She still looked ill, but her skin fluctuated in the growing dawn light.

‘I do,’ he murmured. With his large tanned hand he cupped her cheek and stroked it.

‘Good, then let’s go.’

‘As my lady says.’ Cain winked.

Without waiting for the police to smash down the door or call a magician to break his warding spell, Cain uttered a soft spell under his breath.

***

They arrived up high on the hill with the two very tired thriae, a few hundred metres behind the compound building. The sun had risen in Laos and it shone hot and white through the clouds. Down in the valley, the troops had destroyed most of the forest and continued to do so. Green camouflaged soldiers ran like ants around the perimeter of the compound, shooting things at random.

‘Go back to your swarm,’ Cain said to the thriae. ‘While you still can.’

‘But we might need them,’ Sabra said.

‘No, it’s lost. I have very few allies left, Sabra.’ Cain sighed. ‘I’ve sent all those I can away, and there isn’t much else I can do.’

Hexa and Peony looked down at them, concerned but resigned. ‘If you do not require us, Warlord, we will depart — we will tell the Queen of your sacrifice.’

The thriae’s words made Sabra’s guts squeeze.

‘Are you sure you want them to go?’ Sabra asked.

Cain nodded, and she watched his black hair fall over his eyes before he brushed it back. The gesture made her uncomfortable. This was not the strong Warlord she knew. ‘Are you sure you don’t have any willing allies?’

‘I’m sure,’ he said stiffly. Sabra watched as he rested his hands on his hips and closed his eyes, breathing in the heady humidity of the jungle as if for the last time.

‘Then who are
they
?’ Sabra said.

She gestured around her. Crawling down from the trees around them were small, one-eyed creatures; ugly and strangely misshapen, several had large horns erupting from their temples.

Cain looked around, his heavy hooded eyes widening in surprise.

‘I hope they’re going to be friendly,’ Sabra added, and inched closer to the Warlord.

‘Rakshasa,’ Cain said, and a smile grew on his face. ‘How?’

It was then that a taller, uglier beast loped up to them. It grinned at Cain displaying incredibly vicious yellow teeth.

In a flurry of a language Sabra had no hope of following, the head Rakshasa jabbered eagerly. The language was guttural, and the beast chuckled wetly.

‘What did he say?’ Sabra asked, shrinking back slightly as the Rakshasa’s wide red eye focussed on her.

‘After they unwillingly led the army to the compound, I freed the Rakshasa from their oath. There was no point in keeping them fighting a losing battle — but it looks like they’ve come back to help.’ His voice sounded tight and then he laughed sharply, ‘With 30,000 others.’

‘That’s more than the troops down there,’ Sabra said with a smile.

It seemed at that moment that the cocky, self-assured Warlord returned. His unsure, worried look disappeared before her eyes and he stood tall and proud, an inscrutable smile playing on his lips. She watched him as he stood looking over the valley, his muscles pulling taut under his shirt. He cut a very fine figure indeed.

‘We can get the government out of the jungle, at least, and perhaps get the compound back. Let me speak with Abhay.’ Cain turned to the head Rakshasa. He began speaking rapidly in the Rakshasa tongue, but Sabra interrupted.

‘Wait. Don’t send them down there,’ Sabra said, ‘not without protection. They’ll get slaughtered.’

‘Guns will hurt, but not kill them,’ Cain said, and Abhay nodded, exposing his sharp yellow teeth once again. ‘Abhay has said they are willing to do anything to make amends for their failures earlier.’

Sabra shook her head. ‘But it’s not necessary.’ She turned and looked at the multitude of creatures that surrounded them. They seemed to swarm from every angle; every branch and spare space was filled with their strange misshapen faces staring eagerly at her. They smelled vaguely like dirt and rotting meat, earthy and unpleasantly sweet. ‘Can I try something?’ she asked.

Cain stared at her blankly.

‘What do you mean to try?’

‘I am not just Sabra, I am
SABRA
— and I have been practicing. I think I can do something that may come in very handy.’

She thought back to how she’d covered the thriae from the mind of the shadow, and wondered if she could do it again, only on a much bigger scale.

‘Just give me a minute.’

Cain raised an eyebrow, but waited.

Nervousness crawled like bugs on her skin as she tried to get her ability to work. There was always the possibility she would fail.

She took her deep breaths, and tried to keep her mind focussed and calm. After a moment of Cain looking at her with a vaguely bemused look on his handsome face, his expression began to change. His eyebrows floated higher on his brow and he looked around clearly perplexed. ‘Sabra?’ he called. ‘Where are you? Where are the Rakshasa?’ He looked about, staring blindly around the forest.

Sabra stood still and waited, hoping the Rakshasa would not freak out. On the contrary, it appeared that they were rather amused by this change in visibility. Several chattered and laughed loudly. One rather hideous comical-looking creature hopped up to Cain, and danced about at his feet, waving his claws in front of the Warlord. It then laughingly cocked a leg like a dog and threatened to pee, but Abhay hissed and clouted the offending Rakshasa around his large ears and sent him scuttling back into the masses.

Sabra gave him another moment to wonder before allowing her concentration to slacken and return them all to visibility.

‘How did you do that?’ Cain asked, his eyes wide.

‘It’s a talent of mine.’ Sabra smiled, and felt her skin flush furious crimson.

Cain said nothing for what seemed like a long time, but just looked down at her. He took a step closer. She could smell him now. His magic was thick around him, and it masked the rotting odour of the Rakshasa nearby. He reached out, placed his hands on her upper arms and drew her to his chest. She stepped eagerly into his embrace, and sighed as his arms wrapped around her. His hands were large and warm. A contented sigh slipped unbidden from her lips and she lifted her own arms and wrapped them about his waist.

Pressing her ear against his chest and inhaling the sweet magical scent of him, Sabra listened to his slow steady heartbeat. Nothing had ever felt so right as being in his arms. Though her womb still ached with its loss, and weakness lightened her head, she felt at peace.

They stood like that for some time, embracing — surrounded by 30,000 Hindu demons. She’d never felt safer.

‘Can you do it again?’ Cain eventually asked when she pulled away to gaze upon his face.

‘Yes,’ she said with certainty.

‘Well, let’s do it then.’ He grinned.

Chapter 20

Cain used his cloaking spell to cover them as they made their way down to the compound for their ambush. Sabra wasn’t certain how long she could hold her ability in the face of so many soldiers and cover so many Rakshasa. She was fairly certain she could do it, but even so she knew she couldn’t do it for long.

As they approached the rear of the compound, Abhay dispatched several demon scouts skirting the buildings. It was when they entered the rear courtyard that they found another surprise was waiting.

Jürgen, Christy, her crew, several of Cain’s magicians and a large number of angry-looking naga’s were hunched over maps and discussing tactics.

‘What are you doing here?’ Cain asked, his tone icy. ‘I sent you all away.’

All sets of shoulders flinched instantly and Jürgen jumped back guiltily as Christy’s eyes widened.

‘Boss,’ she said, ‘we didn’t know you’d be back.’

‘So why are you?’ Cain asked, his voice warming.

‘We had nowhere else to go,’ Jürgen replied. He flinched slightly as he spoke, clearly expecting Cain’s fury.

Sabra watched Cain’s angular jaw pull at his general’s words, but it took him only a minute to recover. ‘Well, it’s a good job you’re here because we’ve got back-up.’

Jürgen’s big blond brow furrowed then he smiled. He looked like a dog that had expected a beating and had just been given a bone.

With a slight laugh, Cain walked over and hit Jürgen affectionately on the shoulder with a meaty clap. ‘The Rakshasa have come through for us, 30,000 of them.’

Jürgen grinned. ‘Well, I didn’t expect that.’

The two men began speaking in rapid, decisive tones, and Sabra found her attention began to wander. Her neck prickled and she rolled her shoulders nervously.

Cain wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, and she allowed herself to rest her head briefly on his chest before trying to listen and focus on the plan of action they discussed.

A naga swished up to Cain, part human, part snake, her serpentine tail flicking behind her. She was large even for her species. Her hair was jet black and her humanoid torso glistened with pale diamond-like scales. She blinked, and her eyes had elongated pupils that seemed to stare too long.

‘We thank you for the assistance you have shown our kind. We know that many of your allies have fled. We ssshall not,’ she said and inclined her head. ‘We are yoursss,’ she hissed, and gestured to her sisters.

‘My thanks.’ Cain inclined his head in return. The naga smiled, and as she did, the black inner tissues of her mouth were revealed. Two fangs flicked down from behind her human teeth. Sabra flinched.

‘These men must be taught a lesson,’ the naga hissed.

Sabra didn’t like the viciousness in the naga’s tone, but she couldn’t blame her. Her kind had been treated badly, and now, the only champion the magical community had in Laos was under threat. Venomous and quick as they were, the nagas could do a lot of damage to an unsuspecting military presence and were good allies to have.

The sound of gunfire perforated the area, and Sabra knew the time was nigh.

It was then that Jürgen turned and gestured to a woman Sabra had only just noticed.

‘Mags?’ Sabra breathed incredulously. ‘You’re like…a re-occurring nightmare!’ She backed away and collided with the naga. The bitter metallic stench of the serpentine creature made her recoil, but the naga caught her and steadied her with kind cool hands on her shoulders.

‘What is she doing here?’ Cain asked coldly.

‘I can’t go back,’ Mags whispered. ‘I can’t, I’ve failed them too many times.’

Her humble tone made Sabra frown, it sat so ill on those thin red lips.

‘Shit you have,’ Cain barked. ‘What is your plan?’ He stepped threateningly close, his aura bristling with enraged and wild magic. ‘Are you planning to capture Sabra and try to harvest her eggs
again
?’ Cain’s voice was so cold that Sabra could visualise icicles forming on his lips. The rich scent of his magic grew stronger, and she knew that his anger was reaching a fever pitch.

‘No, no.’ Maggie shook her head, her blonde hair rustling with the momentum. The naga holding Sabra hissed her apparent disbelief. ‘I won’t do it, I promise. I can’t anyway, they’ll kill me.’

Sabra wanted to point out that she appeared to be very difficult to kill, but didn’t.

Cain stepped towards Mags; he towered above her and Sabra felt a twinge of sympathy. Cain was an imposing man and anger made all men unpredictable.

Would he kill her,
again?
she wondered.

Cain’s jaw was tight, and a vein bulged in his neck. He had a small gun at his hip and his hand moved towards it.

It seemed that everyone was holding their breath.

The moment was broken again by the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire echoing through the valley. Added to it this time was the smashing of windows.

‘Leave her,’ Cain growled, and Mags winced. ‘We’ve got to protect what we can, and she’s not included.’ With a dismissive glance, he turned away from Mags and towards Sabra. His face softened. ‘Are you ready?’

Sabra nodded, the butterflies turning to lead weights in her belly. She was nervous about her part in this, and wasn’t sure whether she could be successful. Cain gave her a reassuring smile, and she felt herself take a little strength from it. He took a moment to re-brief Jürgen and Christy before Sabra concentrated and led them all out through the courtyard, towards the mass of military that had surrounded and infiltrated the compound.

***

In that one moment, Sabra felt as special, powerful and glamorous as a Bond girl. She grasped Cain’s hand tightly and the Rakshasa chattered and clattered behind them, a moving mass of hideousness.

As they turned around the corner of the courtyard, she glimpsed a soldier crouching near a large potted palm. She felt the power and ability within her swell and breathed a sigh of relief as the soldier neither moved or otherwise noticed their presence.

She winced as 10 or so Rakshasa’s hopped towards him, their claws extended and yellowed teeth dripping with saliva. The soldier, a young handsome Thai, remained still and alert, completely oblivious to the imminent danger around him.

The taller of the Rakshasa, a floppy-breasted female, hopped to the man’s left, leered at him with her bright single eye, and grazed a claw down the clean-shaven cheek.

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