Alliance Forged (6 page)

Anything to keep Kymora’s attention focused outward. And if he were honest, it kept his mind off inappropriate thoughts such as how much he was beginning to like having her soft, warm body in his arms.

T
HE line of captured renegades bore a range of facial expressions, some downright hostile as they glared at their
Na’Chi
guards, another couple seemed afraid, while one or two had the presence of mind to look ashamed.

Arek fisted his gloved hands as he watched his Light Blade warriors binding the rebels’ hands and feet. Because they’d gone in unarmed against them, two of his warriors had suffered defensive wounds, one rebel lay dead after refusing to surrender, and another had been found stabbed outside the village.

None of the renegades deserved to wear the
Lady’s
sun amulet around their necks. Every single one of them had resisted. Very little sympathy for any blood or bruises adorning them mixed with the white-hot anger seething inside him.

Using a begrimed sleeve, he wiped sweat from his brow. “Are they all accounted for?”

Glancing away from where the rebels sat lined up against one of the village houses, his gaze connected with several
Na’Chi
, then
settled on Zaune’s. The young scout had joined them toward the end of the battle with worrying news from Lisella. Kymora had not made it to the shelter of the caves, and their search of the village for her had proved futile.

Kalan and Kymora were closer than any brother and sister he knew, so delivering such news to his friend wasn’t something he looked forward to doing. The man had enough to worry about with the increasing frequency of attacks by the
Na’Reish
on the border, not to mention brewing unrest within human territory that could easily explode into civil war. Arek sighed softly. This incident certainly wasn’t going to help that situation anytime soon.

“We’re not sure if they’re all here,” Rystin replied. The dark-haired scout’s violet eyes were flecked with black. His scowl matched Arek’s mood. “Varian’s also disappeared.”

“Second…”

The weak, hoarse call came from the injured man found at the edge of the village. His face seemed familiar but Arek couldn’t place him. The warrior obviously recognized him, as he’d called him by his title. Slumped against the wall of a house, the man tried to straighten but hadn’t the strength. Each breath he took gurgled in his chest and was painful to listen to.

Arek covered the distance between them and crouched beside him. The thick metallic tang of blood mingled with sweat and the foul stench of human waste. The wound low on his abdomen seeped a dark red, almost black liquid.

Arek grimaced. A bowel wound. That accounted for the putrid odor. The other was higher up in his ribs. Both were mortal.

“Second, there are two more….” Pain contorted his weathered features as he stretched out a bloody hand to grip his arm. “They tried to kill the
Temple Elect
.”

“There were twelve of you?” He squeezed the man’s hand as his eyes fluttered closed. “Stay with me, warrior.”

“Twelve… yes.” His head dipped, then lifted. His blood-flecked lips twisted in a grimace. “Veren and Torant… I tried to stop them….”

The wounds were from his friends, not from the recent battle? Arek frowned. “Did you see what happened to the
Temple Elect
?”

“One of
them
took her….” He inclined his head toward the scouts. “She claimed he was her friend.”

Arek sucked in a short breath. “A
Na’Chi
about my height, black hair, with temple braids?”

“Yes.” A racking cough stained his mouth with bright, frothy blood. The man wiped it from his lips with the back of his hand. Dark brown eyes met his, a glassy sheen to them but sharp enough to reflect the knowledge that he knew he had little time left in this world. “Veren and Torant gave chase…. The
Na’Chi
and
Temple Elect
leapt off the cliff… to escape them….”

“Varian and Kymora jumped from the escarpment?” Zaune’s tone reflected his surprise. “Can Kymora swim?”

“Yes, but she hates the water.” Arek frowned. Kymora only ever swam close to the shoreline and never in anything higher than waist deep. “Take five men, a mix of your scouts and mine. Find their tracks—”

“You’re giving us orders?” Rystin stiffened where he stood. “Who put you in charge, human?”

Arek ground his teeth hard. “If the
Na’Chi
don’t want to help, that’s fine. I’ll send my warriors out alone, but with you, Varian and Kymora will be found a lot quicker.”

“Rystin, it doesn’t matter who gives the orders; they’d be the same if they came from you or me, wouldn’t they?” Zaune cocked one dark eyebrow. “Varian and Kymora’s safety comes first, eh?”

Rystin stared at Arek for several long heartbeats, his gaze hard, intense, then he turned on his heel and walked away.

Zaune shook his head and glanced at Arek. “He’s still not sure about the alliance….”

“He’s not the only one,” Arek admitted, quietly.

Personally, he wasn’t sure if some would ever get over the ingrained prejudice each felt for the other race. Too many years of conflict with the
Na’Reish
tainted their history. Learning that they’d once shared the same territory and the origins of their Gifts were the result of interracial breeding with the demons had shocked them all.

But no more so than discovering his grandfather and others, all revered figureheads on the Blade Council, had kept this information secret for decades. Then to find out Annika was his
Na’Chi
half sister—he shook his head—they were all issues he still struggled with, so he could understand why others were having trouble adjusting.

“As I was saying, find their tracks and where Varian and Kymora went over the edge.” Arek grimaced at the thought of Kymora in the water. “Then hunt down the two missing renegades. Once we have them, we can organize a search for Varian and Kymora.”

Zaune’s hand gripped his shoulder. An unusual gesture for the young scout as he tended to avoid physical contact unless engaged in battle. “Varian will keep her safe.”

Would Varian be able to elude the rebels hunting them? “I hope so.” He peered up at the sky. “You better get going, Zaune. There’s only a half hour until sunset.”

“You’re forgetting something, Light Blade.”

“What?”

The young scout raised one dark brow. “Darkness won’t stop us.”

For a moment, Arek was almost jealous of the
Na’Chi
and their ability to see in the dark. “At least you’re all good for something, then.”

One corner of Zaune’s mouth curled in response. “I’d take Rystin with me but I suspect he’ll refuse, so I’ll take Taybor and send Jinnae to get some of the others to help you with the prisoners.”

Arek nodded and the
Na’Chi
scout headed off.

“Tell the Handmaiden I’m sorry….”

The whispered plea drew his attention back to the Light Blade warrior lying against the house. He’d slumped farther down the wall. The hand gripping Arek’s arm released him and pulled at the leather thong around his neck until his amulet slipped free. The man’s fingers curled around the small disc, his eyes closed.

“Mother of Mercy…”
His voice trailed off but his lips continued moving, praying. Arek inhaled deeply. The man wouldn’t be the first Light Blade warrior he’d seen die, but this was the first who’d forsaken his vows, defied Kalan’s order, and attacked those granted sanctuary. What had driven him to do so?

His last words indicated he regretted his actions. The
Lady
might ease his Final Journey if his repentant attitude was sincere. As the man’s lips stopped moving, his hand relaxed and slid slowly to the ground.

Arek reached out to press his fingers against his neck. No pulse. Another warrior lost in terrible circumstances. He rubbed tired eyes and sent a brief prayer to the
Lady
asking for
Her
to judge him fairly and for
Her
protection for Kymora and Varian.

Pushing to his feet, Arek stared around the village. With the onset of evening, the odor of smoke hung like a pall in the air, acrid and heavy, the haze low and thick. Half the houses had succumbed to the flames, another three were charred, still standing but uninhabitable. During the search for Kymora, he’d seen the wanton destruction wrought by the renegades inside the houses.

Blackened ash and tendrils of smoke were all that remained of the crops he and his warriors had helped the
Na’Chi
put in three months ago. The vegetable gardens cared for by both races of children were destroyed, the plants trampled or uprooted and flung around the enclosure. And only a handful of bleaters had survived the slaughter. Their plaintive mewls as they called to flock-mates who would never
answer were a somber accompaniment to the quiet stillness of the evening.

Arek grimaced. What other casualties would the cleanup bring?

KYMORA shuddered, unable to shake the icy cold afflicting her limbs. Her teeth were chattering so hard the sound echoed back off the walls. It didn’t help that she was seated on a rock floor in the middle of a cave in a dress that continued to drip water.

Mustering what little energy she possessed, she wrapped her arms around her upraised knees and tucked her toes under the sodden hem, hoping that would help. Walking around, stamping her feet, movement of any sort would help generate body heat, but she didn’t know the layout of the cave. Her staff was gone. And so was Varian.

Rubbing the goose bumps on her arms, she listened for his footsteps. How long had it been since he’d left her? Would he come back? Her shivering increased.

What would she do if he didn’t? What if Veren and the other renegade ambushed and killed him? How would she make her way to safety when she didn’t even know where she was? Icy tendrils sprouted from the cold knot in her stomach, wrapped around her chest, and squeezed.

Shallow, uneven breathing rasped in her ears. Hers.
Merciful Mother
, she’d made enough of a fool of herself today already without imagining things like Varian’s demise or being abandoned in a strange place. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat.

“
Lady
,
You
are my heart.
You
give me the strength to face my fears and harness them.” The mantra was barely a whisper, a familiar distraction; one she hoped would help her regain control. “Peace and harmony come from a disciplined and calm mind.”

She inhaled a shuddering breath and released it slowly, but every muscle in her body remained locked tight.

“Kymora, I’m back!”

Varian’s soft call triggered an overwhelming wave of relief. A whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. She scrubbed at the tears burning behind her eyes, denying them leave to fall, not wanting Varian to see just how close she’d come to losing control. Again.

A strange rasping sound filled the cave.

“What are you dragging?” Her voice shook, much to her dismay.

“I found the perfect bedding… forest needles. I had to break off a whole branch and bring it back…. Didn’t have enough hands to carry an armful of twigs and the wood.” The deep resonance of his voice stroked her raw nerves, taking the edge off them. “But don’t worry, it’s all just outside. I made several trips before coming in. Won’t be long before we have a fire.”

Varian kept talking even as he left the cave and all she could hear was the intonation of it rather than individual words. It didn’t matter. She was no longer alone. He was there, a steady, reassuring presence that warmed her more than the fire he built. The wood crackled and snapped, until she felt the air within the cave begin to warm.

“Kymora, you’ll catch a chill in that wet dress.” When his hand touched the nape of her neck, she shivered but finally began to relax. He cleared his throat. “You need to take it off. I’ll spread it out over the other side of the cave. By morning it should dry.”

Heat flooded her face, almost as hot as the hand resting at the base of her neck. He wanted her to unclothe?
Lady’s Breath
, she felt vulnerable enough without being stripped to bare skin.

She shifted a little closer to the warmth of the flames. “I’ll be fine now that the fire’s going.”

He moved away. “Kymora, you’re shivering. We both need to get dry and warm.” The slick sound of material being peeled from skin accompanied his statement, then she heard him squeezing water out of cloth. It splashed against the stone floor. Two thumps, one after
the other, then more water splattered against the ground. “I’ll be lucky if my boots aren’t ruined by morning.”

Varian was undressing? Awareness zapped her as if she’d touched the flames of the fire with her bare hand. Her pulse picked up speed. For one long heartbeat she almost wished for the gift of sight. She’d felt the solid strength of his body beneath her hands. Muscles as hard as blade steel, smooth, sculpted by a life spent outdoors, honed by the need to survive.

Her lips parted, the temptation to ask warring with her more cautious side. Asking if she could touch him, to trace and shape his body with her fingertips so she could “see” him in his entire masculine splendor was out of the question. Varian rarely allowed anyone that privilege, but the desire to possess that freedom flared inside her.

What was she thinking? He’d want to know why, and that was something she wasn’t even sure she could answer. More warmth rushed into her cheeks.

“Kymora?” His question drew her from her thoughts. “Do you need help?”

“No!”

Silence greeted her outburst. Closing her eyes, she regretted her sharp reply. She twisted a piece of her dress with her fingers. What must he think of her falling apart like this?

“Is there some holy rule about disrobing in front of others I don’t know about? Are
Her
Servants forbidden to do this?” His drawled queries weren’t quite the response she’d expected. “
Lady
forgive me if I’ve offended you again, but you know how ignorant I am about these sorts of things.”

The gentle humor coloring his voice reminded her of the time she’d discovered him on the walkway to the Temple, leaning against the cenotaph stones of the Light Blades who’d died in battle against the
Na’Reish
. Unable to read the inscriptions, he hadn’t realized the significance of the memorial. When she’d enlightened him to the true
source of the disgruntled looks he’d been receiving from the humans passing by, he’d been mortified.