Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles (8 page)

No one really understood The Order. My father said they protected us from secret threats in our own borders. I didn’t believe him. The Order had as much power as the king, and they enforced it.

But how did Lucy escape them? Were there other mages outside of The Order? And why would she be attacking us?

The twins returned with a full layout of the enemy’s camp, which consisted of thirty men. I watched Nathaniel draw a map of the terrain. I reached into my pocket, searching for the familiar pouch. I loosened the knot and grabbed one of the marbles.

Davin explained our route in, but I could focus on nothing beyond the smooth stone in my hand. I wasn’t ready for this. They talked about battle, a real battle. What did I know about war? Only the stories Father told me. How did a trio of Roamers turn into an army? I glanced around at the other men, every expression stoic except Derrick’s. His brow creased, his gaze glued to the map.

In order for us to succeed, each of us had to take down four men. Four men! The ache in my head returned. My family counted on me. I swore I would bring Jeslyn back, but what if I failed? I’d be responsible for two siblings’ deaths. I couldn’t bear that much guilt.

A strong hand gripped my shoulder. Rudy stood between Derrick and me with a knowing look. “I think you two boys better come with me,” he said. We both followed him away from the group.

“This here be your first battle?” he asked, his large arms resting on his belly.

“Well…” I was embarrassed by my inexperience.

“I thought so. Well, there be a few things you two ought to know. Sit down.”

Rudy spent the next hour explaining battle tactics, the importance of watching one another’s back, and how to fight multiple opponents. He called Reaper, Henry and Steven to help us practice. Overall, Derrick and I handled ourselves well. Sparring together had trained us to fight side by side. We were used to each other’s movements. It was just a matter of knowing how to navigate.

Night had fallen, and it was time to get some much-needed rest before the attack. Rudy took first watch. The past week’s journey had exhausted my body and mind. I picked a spot near the campfire and lay on the ground.

One of the men hummed a dark melody. I repositioned my pack under my head, trying to get comfortable. A memory of Jeslyn and I feeding one of the colts entered my mind. Every detail about that afternoon seemed alive. It was one of the last time’s we laughed together. Water stung my eyes and I closed them, hoping I would get to her soon.

A strange high-pitched cry woke me. I opened my eyes but saw nothing unusual. Derrick lay across from me snoring.
What is that?
I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Am I dreaming? A heavy fog pressed in around me. My eyes flickered open and shut. It was the only part of my body that responded.

The wailing grew louder and closer. The hair on my arms stood. A bright mass of swirling light caught the corner of my eye. The mass resembled a hundred moonbeams vigorously twisting and turning. I attempted to roll on my side.

What’s wrong with my legs? And my arms? Why can’t I move?

The haunting mass spiraled closer. Soon it was right above me. I gaped in horror as it transformed into the face of the giant I’d killed. Vacant sockets bore into me, seeking revenge. Paralyzing fear overwhelmed me. Every muscle ignored my desperate plea to move. I tried to scream with every breath I had but could only choke. Derrick lay only a few feet away.

The creature hissed, crushing my chest. The face distorted and changed into Jimri’s. I blinked twice, trying to drive the image away.

It’s not real. It’s not real.

Every time I blinked that white face still hovered above me, invisible hands pushing me into the ground. A weight pressed upon my chest. I struggled to breathe. I’d never encountered a spirit before. I never imagined all the stupid fairytales could be true.

It’s trying to kill me.

A surge of adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I bolted upright, screaming and flaying my arms like a wild beast.

Derrick woke, rubbing his eyes with one hand while grabbing his sword with the other. “Are we under attack?”

“No,” I said in between breaths. I scanned the area. Whatever it was had vanished.

Rudy came charging over, battle-axe drawn. “What’s wrong?”

I rubbed my arms, erasing the chill that lingered. “Did you hear screaming?”

“Besides yours?” Rudy squinted at me. “Are you all right? You’re white as alabaster.”

I nodded, even though I was far from all right. “I must have had a bad dream. Go rest. I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep.”

Rudy propped his weapon against his shoulder. I picked up my bow and began pacing around the camp. I couldn’t explain what just happened. I’d had nightmares before, but this was different. I felt that thing on top of me.

The bow shook in my hands.
Breathe.

Behind me, a rustle in the bush. I steadied the bow and crept forward. One slow step at a time. Tiny beads of sweat soaked the back of my shirt. Every step I took felt like walking straight into death itself. Silence filled the night, except for the loud pounding of my heart. Leaves crunched under my boots. I strung the bow and aimed at the intruder hiding behind the shrubbery.

Out scurried a small brown rabbit.

Stupid bunny.
I spit at the rodent, just missing its back. The nightmares were enough to make me crazy, but being frightened by bunnies? I was losing it.

The suns peeked over the distant horizon. Their rays slowly rose, awakening the day with dawn. Rudy told Derrick and me to stay behind the rest of the pack. My job was to shoot as many enemies as I could while Derrick guarded me. We trotted our horses to the perimeter of the enemy camp, spread out and awaited the signal. Last night’s fog lingered over the sleeping grounds. Guards that should have been patrolling lay against tree trunks, clueless to our approach. One dark figure emerged from a tent at the far end. He stretched and wandered off into the woods, probably to urinate.

The wagons surrounded the site in a semi-circle. Sweat pooled in my palms. I had to take out the guards closest to that entrance. If I failed, so did the mission.

Get a grip
.

I clenched the arrow in my right hand. Brushfire shifted nervously, sensing my fear. I rubbed her neck. I felt safer with her. She’d been with me since Jimri’s death. At night when the nightmares taunted me, I’d sneak out, riding until dawn forced us home. I’d rescued her from the burning woods, she’d rescued me from despair — today, I prayed both of us would make it out alive.

Rudy raised his arm high. My sign to attack.

Balancing myself, I let go of the reins and began firing arrow after arrow, taking out the first guards. When they were down, we moved in.

Brushfire maneuvered through the opening, following Derrick’s steed. Two guards aimed bows at me, but I shot both before they had a chance. My quick speed was my one good quality. Very few people could match my pace.

I notched another arrow and shot a swordsman attacking Derrick. Derrick kicked him in the chest, shoving the arrow clean through. One of the kidnappers banged a pot and screamed, alerting everyone else. Brushfire galloped into the circle. A nearby guard ran towards me. He was too close for the bow. I swung my sword, barely blocking the incoming attack.

The clash knocked me off Brushfire. Pain shot up my back. My vision blurred. The guard raised his sword, ready to split me in two. I rolled at the last second. The sword gashed my left arm. I screamed. The guard growled and again lifted his weapon. I stared up in horror, realizing this was the end. The guard’s head fell off and landed between my legs. Blood shot like a red geyser from the body. Derrick emerged from behind the man and held out his arm. I grabbed it and climbed onto the back of his mount.

Grimacing, I ripped off a piece of my shirt and tied it around the wound. Metal clanged against metal, creating an eerie sonnet that played for the suns as they rose. Screams and war cries arose from the camp. I could smell death. My heart lurched when I watched Steven fall under the blade of a grinning solider. As Steven’s dying action, he took his killer down with a final blow to the chest, ripping it open. There wasn’t time for me to go to him. Steven would slip alone into the abyss.

Derrick’s horse jumped over a burnt out fire pit and headlong into a group of charging men. Before we touched down, I sent two arrows flying over Derrick’s shoulder. One man grabbed at the arrow protruding from his eye socket as he dropped to his knees. The other never had a chance to react. The feathered shaft stuck out from his neck as he toppled to the ground.

Derrick, beast that he was, clutched the reins in his left hand while his right wielded the claymore, which he swung into the closest standing man, decapitating him.

Does he ever hold back during our spars
? I thought. How else could I have so many victories over him?

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the twins, cornered by six guards. I nudged Derrick. “Stop here.”

Derrick halted the horse. We slipped off and ran. Nathaniel saw us approaching and taunted the attackers, grabbing their attention. The ruse worked. I shot one guard before any of them turned. Derrick sent his sword straight through another’s chest.

The twins were a blur of spark and metal, circling each other in perfect unison, an image of white fury.

“We need to find Jeslyn.” I panted. My lungs were on fire and it was getting harder to breathe, but I pushed past the pain and charged towards a nearby guard. I blocked him with my sword, dipped down quick and slashed his ankles with my dagger. The man howled and fell over. I jumped over him and plunged my knife into the back of another.

One of the wagons creaked and rolled away from the circle.

“Derrick!” I threw my sword into its sheath and strung my bow. I pulled back, lining up the shot. Once I locked on, I sent the arrow flying into the unsuspecting target.

Derrick pushed his way towards me, knocking out a man in the process. He glanced back, seeing my arrow land perfectly in the man’s chest.

“Nice shot!” Derrick cried. He rested his hands on his thighs, catching his breath. “What’s the plan?”

I pointed to the wagons north of us. “You check those. I’ll check the ones on the other side.”

He nodded and ran off.

My arms ached with fatigue, and the wound stung. I wanted to stop and rest, just for a minute, but I couldn’t. I ran in the direction of the other wagons where I was stopped by a stocky man with a goatee. He didn’t count on my quick reflexes. I dodged him. When our swords clashed, I noticed the rip in his shirt and a snake tattoo. Calli’s description rang back in my mind and my head exploded with anger. Standing before me was the man who’d stolen Jeslyn.

I growled and kicked his knee. Jeslyn’s kidnapper stumbled for a second and that was all I needed. I shifted my hands up the hilt and slammed the metal edge against his head. Blood trickled from the spot. I jabbed the hilt again and the wound gaped. Anger clouded my vision in a haze of red. I threw the sword, wanting to strangle the man with my hands. He glared at me with one good eye and smirked. I ducked as his blade swished above me, slicing air. I belted him in the gut. The punch rocked him back a step. Grabbing his wrist, I squeezed a pressure point, forcing the weapon to drop. I now had full control of the fight. I stepped around him, twisting the arm I held. The kidnapper grunted and tried to dislodge me by elbowing my stomach, but I was too quick. I avoided the elbow and brought the man to his knees.