Alliance Forged (24 page)

“There’s a clearing ahead.” He kept his voice low. “The
Na’Hord
are camped there. A full unit. And nineteen humans.” His lip curled. “After scouting around the clearing, I was able to get within a dozen strides of the one warrior they’d posted as a lookout. With such complacency, we should be able to ambush them.”

Arek’s gut tightened. Why were the
Na’Reish
being so careless? Their behavior just didn’t make sense. Now would be a good time to strike though, while they were stationary. On the move, there were other variables like mounted
Vorc-Riders
to consider. Camped as they were, the deadly
Na’Reish
mounts would be muzzled and tethered. One less risk to contend with.

“Mark out a map while I get the others.” Arek tapped the ground with the tip of his dagger, then sheathed it. “We’re going to need to leave the war-beasts behind while we carry out the ambush.”

He returned with the others several minutes later. All twelve of them crouched around Varian’s map, and the
Na’Chi
warrior filled them in on what lay ahead.

“As your people have more experience in this sort of operation, it’s yours to lead, Varian,” Kalan declared. Arek lifted an eyebrow while the other Light Blades made sounds of surprise, earning themselves a glare from the
Chosen
. “I want those farmers rescued, and the
Na’Chi
clearly have the advantage in this sort of environment.”

Bending once more over the map, Varian issued his orders to each pair of Light Blades and
Na’Chi
.

“The two extra warriors”—and here he pointed at Arek and Kalan—“will be free to assist where needed after Zaune takes out the sentry. All clear?”

Adrenaline surged through Arek as each of them checked their weapons and armor. This time, just like every other occasion he’d
faced the
Na’Reish
, he thought of his parents. Had they felt the thrill of the rush in the minutes before battle? The sense of rightness knowing what you were involved in was what you were born to do?

His memories of them had dulled over the passage of time. Occasionally a scent or a sensation would trigger a memory of them, but he recalled little of their physical features. Savyr’s vengeful machinations left him without a mother from three years of age, and he’d lost his father to grief over her death not long after. He’d grown up hearing deeds of their service from others who’d known them, although many bitter reminders from his grandfather on how the
Na’Reish
had destroyed both their lives had balanced them.

So while serving as a Light Blade warrior was his calling, his life’s ambition involved killing every
Na’Reish
demon he could sink his blade into.

Threading his way through the mature forest to the clearing and
Na’Hord
patrol, Arek touched the amulet around his neck. Lady,
protect
Your
children and bring us safely home.
A ritual prayer he always recited before a skirmish.

The group slowed once they were in sight of the clearing, going to their bellies to take advantage of the cover provided by the uneven ground or fallen or dead tree debris. Every so often the murmur of conversation or raucous laughter drifted toward them on the gentle breeze.

Varian signaled a halt and they all waited as Zaune disappeared into the undergrowth. A short time later he returned, his eyes reflecting the crimson glow of his Gift, and he nodded to Varian. The sentry had been taken care of.

Varian gestured in several directions, and each Light Blade/
Na’Chi
pair split off to take up their position. Heart thumping double-time, Arek peered through the underbrush where he and Kalan crouched behind a thick stand of young saplings.

In the small clearing, nine
Na’Reish
demons lounged around in various poses of relaxation. Some sat on dead logs pulled into a rough semicircle; others reclined on the leaf-littered ground.

Arek frowned. Their relaxed demeanor said they weren’t in any hurry to leave human territory. Raids for blood-slaves were usually exercises in stealth and speed. Why weren’t they fleeing for the border? Surely they weren’t so confident they thought they’d managed an invasion without being detected?

His innards grew cold as one of the
Na’Reish
ambled toward the group of men and women huddled around the base of a needle-tree. The demon was at least seven feet tall, all brawny muscle from his thick shoulders right down to his long, powerful legs.

His heavily boned face was broad, rugged, but with an aristocratic flare to his cheekbones. Deep purple eyes surveyed everything around him with the arrogance of an upper-born Lordling. As his gaze settled on the crofters, his black lips peeled back into a malevolent smile, revealing pointed teeth sharp enough to shred flesh.

How many humans had the demon killed to feed his hunger for blood? Arek’s gut heaved as he fisted his hands. He controlled it with the thought that by the time the sun set, this
Na’Reish
warrior would never feed on any human again.

Black-mottled markings ran down either side of the demon’s face, matching the color of his long hair, and disappeared beneath the edge of his body armor. The same mottled effect covered his bare arms. The segmented sections of his chest plate fit together in a pattern that reminded Arek of the leathery hide of a ground-burrower. A sheathed sword lay strapped to his hip.

As the only one wearing armor of such fine quality, this demon had to be the
Na’Hord
leader, a
Na’Reishi
, one of the upper class. The others wore a collection of mismatching pieces and were most likely members from the
Na’Reishu
and
Na’Reisha
castes in the Lordling’s Clan.

The
Na’Reishi
leader stopped a few steps from the crofters, hands hooked into his sword belt, his legs braced wide as he surveyed them all. He pointed at one of the younger women.

“You, female, come to me.” The deep, gravelly command drew frightened cries from some in the group. The woman in question curled in on herself, her arms wrapping around her head in a protective manner.

Cold fury ripped up Arek’s spine. The
Na’Reishi
wanted her for one of two reasons, and by the way he was unbuckling his armor, it wasn’t for use as a blood-slave. Arek reached for the hilt of his sword.

A hand clamped down over his.

“Easy, Second,” Kalan murmured.

“He’s going to rape her.” His reply came from between clenched teeth.

“Wait for Varian’s signal. Give the others a chance to get into place.”

The demon peeled the segmented chest plate over his head and dropped it to the ground. His vambraces followed.

Arek’s mouth flattened. Fury ignited in his blood. “We can’t let him hurt her….”

An undulating war cry split the air. Cold, furious anticipation blasted through Arek as he drew his sword. Kalan was right beside him as they tore through the undergrowth, and the others exploded into the clearing, homing in on their targets.

Caught unprepared, the
Na’Reish
scrambled to meet their attack.

Arek watched astounded as each
Na’Chi
warrior launched into a barehanded assault on their intended victim. What each lacked in height and brawn as compared to their opponent, they made up for in speed, agility, and guile. Every move, every feint was designed to distract so their Light Blade partner could approach from behind.

“Arek! Kalan!” Varian yelled and pointed.

The
Na’Reishi
commander grappled with Jinnae, one of the
younger
Na’Chi
scouts. His arm lay wrapped around her throat. Lifting her off her feet, he used her as a shield against her partner.

Kalan went left, and he went right as they converged to help. The demon threw the young
Na’Chi
woman across the clearing with a roar. With a scraping hiss, he pulled his sword from its sheath.

Arek kept his attention on the demon, unable to check if Jinnae was all right.

“Light Blades!” The snarl was accompanied by a deadly grin. “Your blood will sate my hunger tonight.”

Kalan’s grin was just as cold. “You can try, demon.”

Arek called on his Gift as the
Na’Reishi
engaged his friend. He and Jole, the other Light Blade, provided distraction as the sound of metal meeting metal and the cries of battle rang throughout the clearing.

Peripherally, Arek tracked his surroundings. To his right,
Vorc
growled and tore at their tethers, but the chain-lines held. Thank the
Lady
for that, as the
Na’Reish
trained their beasts to attack humans on sight.

Arek feinted with his sword. The
Na’Reishi
turned away from Jole. The demon’s parry sent vicious vibrations up the length of his arm. The familiar power of Kalan’s Gift surged. He lunged under the demon’s guard, his sword piercing beneath his left ribcage.

Violet eyes bulged. One large hand seized Kalan’s wrist. Arek thrust. His blade bit into the demon’s abdomen. Jole came in low, slashing across the
Na’Reishi’s
back.

With a pained howl, the demon sank to the ground, releasing his sword. The fall drove both his and Kalan’s weapons deeper. The
Na’Reishi
threw back his head and roared. His hand groped along his waist. Light caught on a bare blade.

“Kalan, watch out!”

The dagger bit into Kalan’s side until only the hilt could be seen. Arek sucked in a shocked breath. He drove his power, his Gift, into the demon’s body.

The
Na’Reishi
fell, but the thrill of victory was absent. Arek dropped his sword as Kalan collapsed, and caught him just before he hit the ground.

“Merciful Mother!”
His friend gasped, pain carving deep grooves in his face. He pressed a hand to his side.

“Easy, my friend, easy.” Arek’s voice shook as he peeled Kalan’s bloody fingers away from his wound. “Let me see how bad it is.”

His mouth dried. One of the thick leather straps cinching Kalan’s armor to his body was partially cut. After striking the buckle, the blade had deflected into the gap between that one and the next.

More war cries filled the air. The cadence wasn’t
Na’Chi
. An icy chill ripped through Arek.

“Lady’s Breath!”
Jole’s invective matched his paling face, and his wide-eyed gaze was fixed on something behind them.

Arek twisted to look. Through the forest, figures darted and wove their way toward them. More
Na’Reish
demons. The dappled shadowing made it hard to count how many. “Another patrol!”

Outnumbered and already down at least one warrior, the odds had just gone from good to potentially devastating.

Kalan’s hand squeezed his. Urgency blazed in the pained depths of his gaze. “Take. It. Out. Now!”

“I need his shirt, Jole.” Arek pointed with his chin at the dead demon. “Pad and bandage.”

Field dressing at best whereas Kalan needed a healer. A swift glance at the advancing
Na’Reish
; they had a minute, maybe two at the most.

Arek curled his hand around the dagger hilt. “Ready?”

Kalan swallowed hard and nodded.

Arek yanked the blade from his side. Through gritted teeth, Kalan screamed. His body arched, then collapsed again, half conscious. Jole packed the makeshift bandage against the wound and tied it tight with another strip of material.

While he did this, Arek scanned the clearing. The fighting still raged on. Relief flooded him to see every other Light Blade and
Na’Chi
still standing.

Another demon fell and a dark-clad figure dumped the body to the ground.

“Varian!”

The
Na’Chi
leader’s head snapped up, his gaze glowing almost red. Arek knew he’d spotted the new patrol when he bared his teeth in a feral grimace. He covered the distance between them in seconds.

“Kalan’s wounded. He needs a healer.” Arek grasped the
Na’Chi’s
arm, gaze locking with his. “Retreat with the others. You’re still in charge. Jole will back you if the other Light Blades protest. You must get the
Chosen
back to Sacred Lake. Understand?”

“You’re his Second.” Varian’s brow dipped low. The words were guttural, deep, not quite human. “Why aren’t you going to lead them?”

A scream of rage jerked them around. Varian launched himself at the
Na’Reish
warrior charging them from the edge of the clearing. A blur of movement, he kept low, and took his opponent down in a bone-crushing tackle. The two of them rolled across the ground.

More
Na’Reish
entered the clearing, each issuing a battle cry. Terrified into action, the farmers scattered in all directions. Their bid for escape stalled the demons for a few precious seconds.

Merciful Mother
, they were all going to be slaughtered if they stayed. Not even the extra skills and strength of the
Na’Chi
would help them. And the Blade Council couldn’t afford to lose the
Lady’s Chosen
. Not now.

Arek snatched up his sword. They were going to need a distraction. It wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined his Final Journey, but at least he’d get to take out as many
Na’Reish
as he could before he fell.

“Jole, take Kalan.” Heart pounding, he couldn’t look at his best friend as he rose. He did share a steady look with Jole. Had to.
Someone needed to understand his decision, and despite their friendship… no,
because
of their friendship, Kalan wouldn’t.

“Get him out of here,” he rasped. “I’ll help Varian.”

Jole’s eyes widened with shock, with disbelief and astonishment, then finally acceptance. Jaw flexing, the warrior nodded slowly and pressed his own sword into his hands. Arek grinned. Two weapons were better than one.

“
Lady
protect you, Second.”

“Arek… no!” Kalan’s hoarse protest made Arek’s throat tighten.

Lady’s Breath
, he knew. Reluctantly he met his friend’s glazed gaze. “This is the only way, my friend. Tell Annika… I should’ve made the time to get to know her….” The agony in Kalan’s emerald eyes pierced him. Arek stood, wishing he had time to say a proper farewell. “
Lady
bless you.”