Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) (38 page)

In a move practiced through eons, Gideon was on his feet, daggers glinting in the patches of filtered light. His coat rustled as he, in that same fluid motion, tore it off him, pitched it aside, and spun.

The ambush came in a wave that surrounded them in seconds. Draconian warriors roared, a vicious sound of a beast older than the dirt itself. Gleaming bodies of bronze broke through the trees in a wave. Steel glinted and that was the last thing Gideon saw before they were on him.

Metal clanged. The sound reverberated through the silence like the first crack of lightening. The warrior in Gideon’s face sneered. Teeth, white and serrated to jagged points, flashed inches from his face. Their clashed weapons shrieked between their bodies as they ground together.

Gideon planted his feet, heaved his body forward. The warrior was expecting it, he caught himself from being shoved too far back. But their daggers slid apart, emanating sparks. Behind him, he could hear Magnus and Valkyrie. He didn’t turn.

The warrior swung. Gideon caught the attack with the point of his blade, twisted, and ducked the second blade the warrior swung at his head. He drove his elbow into the warrior’s abdomen. It was like elbowing a boulder, but it caught the bigger man by surprise and he jerked back. In his blade, Gideon caught the movement behind him a split second before something slammed into his back.

Gideon hit the ground hard on one knee as slivers of fire cobwebbed across the span of his entire back. He snarled through his teeth, but it wasn’t a sound of pain.

He slashed out, rolled right, and came up in the same push. Twisting, he thrust one dagger up between his attacker’s underarm. The other deflected the sword coming down at his skull. Attacker two went down, but the first one remained.

One dagger down, Gideon pivoted, jumped over the fallen warrior with Gideon’s blade still protruding from his side. Gideon knew he wasn’t dead, nor would he stay down for very long, but he wasn’t able to retrieve his weapon, not when the first warrior was dogging his steps, pushing Gideon back.

Born and bred in wilderness, the Draconian warriors moved as though they were fighting in a clearing, as though there was nothing to trip over, to come up against. Gideon wasn’t so lucky. His heels caught risen roots, slipped on bits of rock jetting from the ground, and struck trees at every turn. As fighting conditions went, it was not ideal, but he had fought in worse. He had stayed steadfast when bodies were to his knees and every step found the crunch of bone. He would not fall here.

The warrior charged. Gideon let him, let the warrior use all his energy coming at Gideon. He planted his feet and deflected the thrusting blade by twisting at the last second. He came up beneath the warrior’s arm with his back to the other man’s chest. Gideon drove his elbow back, knocking the air from the warrior’s sternum and the moment he doubled, Gideon rammed the top of his head under the warrior’s chin and following it by spinning his dagger around and plunging it deep into the man’s gut.

He hit the ground at Gideon’s feet, just the right height for Gideon to knock him out cold with a high kick.

But his moment of triumph was short lived when three warriors rushed him.

Not giving them the chance to get the upper hand, Gideon attacked first. He caught one in the throat with a fist, knocked the legs out from under the second, and clashed blades with the third. Standing on an incline, the third warrior had to rely on Gideon to remain up there without sliding down. And Gideon held him, before jerking aside. The warrior tumbled down and Gideon kicked him in the back. 

Not waiting for them to recover, Gideon shot up the hill, turned once to kick the hand snatching at his ankle before running to were Valkyrie was pinned against a tree by two warriors.

There was a gash on her bottom lip that was dripping blood down her chin. The sight of it had Gideon seeing red ... literally. Blinding fury pumped through him with every sharp crack of his heart. He moved without seeing anything else. His body was on autopilot, moving and fighting with only one goal in mind—to get to her.

It wasn’t until he had his hands closed around the first warrior’s throat, yanking him back, away from Valkyrie that he finally came to himself. Caught off guard, the warrior hit the ground and was met with Gideon’s boot in the face. The satisfying crunch of bones shattering sang through Gideon as he stepped back and turned to face the second warrior.

Valkyrie had him on his knees, sword raised lengthwise over his head as Valkyrie beat against him with hers. The sharp clang of metal meeting metal repeatedly rippled through the air. Seeing that they were getting nowhere, she kicked him square in the chest with her boot and sent him sprawling across the ground.

“Okay?” he asked when she turned to him.

“Fine,” she answered with a hint of annoyed frustration, like she didn’t understand why he would think she wouldn’t be.

He snorted a chuckle and turned away, searching for Magnus.

He was gone and Gideon and Valkyrie were surrounded by no less than ten warriors, weapons drawn.

“I’ll take the five on the left, you take the five on the right,” Valkyrie said, moving to stand at his shoulder, sword held firm.

She was soaked in sweat. Her hair was plastered to her face and fell in damp tendrils around her shoulders. She had stripped off her coat and stood looking as formidable as the warriors advancing towards them.

Gideon didn’t raise his blade. He scanned the faces leering back with a new surge of panic and rage.

“Where’s my brother?” he demanded. “If you’ve hurt him, I will kill each of you, I swear it.”

“And he means it,” came a familiar, amused voice.

The group parted and a Magnus approached, unharmed, followed by a Draconian warrior. Both were grinning.

“You bastard!” Gideon snapped.

Magnus turned to the man at his shoulder. “See the love?”

The man chortled.

“What is the meaning of this?” Valkyrie demanded. “Was this a test?”

The man shrugged. “Perhaps.”

He was seven feet of raw, bronze muscle. Like the other warriors, he wore animal hide around his lean hips, no shirt, no shoes, no pants. Just a loincloth and a thin leather band across his brow. His hair was a shiny ink spill around enormous shoulders and there were tribal tattoos across his chest and shoulders.

“I sent word to Kyros that we would be dropping by,” Magnus explained. “The rest was his idea.”

“A test,” the man, Kyros, said, echoing Valkyrie’s question. “We do not normally allow strangers into our forest, but I have known Magnus a very long time.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes at his brother. “A fact you conveniently forgot to mention, I suppose.”

Magnus shrugged, still grinning in a way that was making Gideon want to punch him. “I didn’t forget.”

“Fucker,” Gideon muttered under his breath.

He stalked to where he’d thrown his coat and snatched it up off the ground. He shook leaves and dirt off the leather and swung it on. He turned to find a warrior standing directly behind him, holding the dagger Gideon had lost in the side of ... the same warrior, who seemed fine. There wasn’t even any blood, or blemish to indicate he’d just had his ass handed to him.

Gideon snatched it back. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

The warrior inclined his head, not bothering to conceal his amusement.

“We don’t have time for games,” Valkyrie was scolding Magnus when Gideon joined the group once more. “This was a waste of our time and energy.”

Gideon was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who had found the whole thing pointless.

“I was under the impression Harvesters enjoyed tests,” Kyros stated with a hint of mockery that made Gideon bristle. True he had no love for Harvesters, or their ways, but he didn’t like others talking that way to her.

“Harvesters also like to tear out the hearts of their victims and feed it to the leader,” Valkyrie countered. “A Harvester tradition I doubt your queen will appreciate considering how many of your men we overcame.”

Kyros’s smile wasn’t so arrogant now. “They were under direct orders not to utilize their full strength, or I assure you, Princess, they would not have so easily been overcome by two mere casters.”

Every muscle in Valkyrie’s body seemed to stiffen at the statement, as though he had personally insulted her, which, Gideon decided, he had. To tell a Harvester they had won by mere technicality, or default, was the lowest insult. But now that Kyros said it, it made sense. Gideon had been too busy trying to stay alive to wonder how he was able to fight so many Draconian so effortlessly.

“Are you insinuating that I could not have defeated your warriors, Draconian?”

Kyros inclined his head in what was probably a bow, but it was stiff and derisive. “I would never make such a claim, Princess. No matter what my thoughts may be.”

Valkyrie’s nostrils flared. “You arrogant ... I demand—”

“No, no!” Gideon quickly took her arm before she declared war on principle. “Let’s not do that.”

Valkyrie shook him off, her blue eyes sparking like lit flames. “I will not let this be forgotten, Warrior. We will finish it.”

Kyros smirked, inclined his head again. “As you wish, Princess.”

Gideon glared at his brother. This was his fault.

Magnus seemed unperturbed, even amused as the scene unfolded. He clapped Kyros on the shoulder lightly, drawing the bigger man’s attention away from Valkyrie. The two turned and started further south without waiting, or indicating they be followed. But the warriors shuffled after them, now that the fun was over. Gideon and Valkyrie remained until the last warrior had trudged off.

“He should die,” Valkyrie decided with barely suppressed fury. “He is a foul, arrogant ... insufferable...”

“Shhh,” Gideon whispered. “We’re still in their territory and the Draconian are not known for their leniency.”

“I do not need their leniency!” she seethed, rounding on Gideon. “I am as much, if not more of a warrior. How dare they look down their noses at me? I am a Harvester. I am the child of angels and I have been in battle before the rise of man. They are filthy animals who nearly brought their kind to extinction over a pile of shiny metal.”

He knew there was no appeasing her. If Valkyrie had any true flaw, it was her pride and it had been wounded.

“I will have his sword!” she finished, breathing hard.

“Then you will have it,” he assured her. “But not today.”

She sucked in air that lifted her chest, pushing out her generous breasts to strain against the flimsy material of her damp, white shirt. It took everything in him not to look.

“You’re right,” she muttered at last. “Today’s not that day.” She met his gaze. “Come. We have work to finish.”

Without waiting for him, she stalked over to where her coat lay on the ground. She swung it on without shaking the dirt off it and stomped in the direction the others had taken.

Gideon watched her a moment, watched her long, purposeful strides, the sway of her locks along her back and shoulders and the way she seemed to be muttering silently to herself. He wondered if she knew she did that. Possibly not. It would be considered a weakness. Yet he found it endearing.

“Are you coming?” she demanded when she turned her head and found he hadn’t moved.

“Are you offering?” He jogged to catch up.

Her cheeks pinkened. “Insufferable.”

But there was a grin she was trying badly to conceal when she turned away.

They walked in silence until the roar of voices broke through the trees. The dirt path they were on widened and cut an opening in a wall of bush. They passed through with a touch of hesitance. The last thing either wanted was another ambush, real or fake.

The tangled knot of branches that had darkened their path parted to an endless stretch of flawless blue that yawned majestically over looming structures of solid gold. Soft, pale sunlight spilled along straight lines and sparked almost blindingly off sharp corners. It wove through shallow grooves cut into square golden slabs that ran the length of the streets. Next to him, Valkyrie gave a soft gasp, and without looking at her, he knew she was in as much awe as he was.

“El Dorado,” she mumbled dully. “I suppose it is fitting they live in the only city made entirely of solid gold.”

“Is it real—?” His words broke off when a boy of five, naked except for a pair of dirty shorts, bolted out the side door of a building and shot between Gideon’s legs.

A woman in a beautiful blue sari hurried after the boy. Her dark braid swung the length of her back as she laughed, calling for him.

“Ra, where are you?”

The boy giggled from behind Gideon.

“You can’t see me!” he announced.

The woman smiled and rolled her dark eyes. “Come here,” she told the boy. “You are bothering these people.”

“He’s not a bother,” Gideon assured her, but he stepped aside as the woman bent to scoop the boy up.

With a squeal that was a toss between a giggle and a scream at finally getting caught, the boy threw himself at his mother. The blades of his shoulder tore at the seams and long, leathery wings burst forth. One clipped his mother in the cheek and she scolded him as she carried him back towards the house.

“I told you not to play with your wings like that.”

Then the door shut behind them and Gideon and Valkyrie were alone on the street once more.

Gideon had some reservations about leaving the dirt path, but Valkyrie had no qualms about marching forward, ice pick heels cracking carelessly. Gideon set his steps a little more gingerly; his mother would kill him if they had to pay to repave the Draconian streets because he scuffed the gold with his blood and mud encrusted boots.

They must have been brought through the back entrance of a small city, because the closer they drew to the center, the more extravagant the structures became. Each block stopped at a four way broken by a beautiful fountain, or a cul-de-sac garden. There were no cars, no bikes, not even a single kid on roller skates. People walked and, Gideon noticed, no one wore shoes, so Valkyrie’s boots were getting a lot of attention.

“Maybe we should...”