Marked (23 page)

Sumal felt a sincere favoritism for the region, and the entire kingdom of Norghana.

He put all thoughts of the Norghanians out of his mind and concentrated on the plan he had to carry out. A terribly risky plan in which the spy’s own life would be at stake.

Once again we will defy destiny. I will have to make use of a very special resource for this critical mission to be carried out successfully. I need an agent with extraordinary talent... a talent that only a select few possess. Though I have no one like that among my own spies, I know how to find the one who possesses that special expertise. It will be expensive, very expensive. Maybe unacceptably so. In spite of his complicated demands, he has provided exceptional services to me in the past. But this time, I want no part of a contract paid for by another contract in return. I want to pay in gold. It is much more... clean. Blood for money; that is how contracts should be carried out. How success is guaranteed. How complications are avoided.

Sumal filled his lungs with the tavern’s rancid air and let out a long sigh.
Let’s hope the fickle goddess of good fortune will be with us on this endeavor. The destiny of three powerful kingdoms and the lives of thousands of men and women depend on it. Ha! Who wants to be King when one can be the hand in the shadows that makes and breaks the destiny of an entire continent?

Laughing out loud, the spy stood up and exited the tavern, heading out into the cold Norghana night.

A wave of terror shook Aliana’s body like a bolt of lightning striking a defenseless animal. The column of Lancers rushed toward a wall of savages with blood-painted faces. The Usik, filled with wild determination and hatred, stood ready to kill them, forming a barrier across the path and cutting off their access to the ascent. Clutching bows, axes, and spears adorned with enormous white and gray feathers, they were out for blood.

The blond horsewoman lowered her bow and instinctively cowered behind her horse’s neck. They were advancing uphill toward the terrifying wall of enemies. She leaned forward and forcefully spurred her mount, knowing she had to charge. Any other option meant a sure death.

“Oh Mother Helaun, protect your daughter, Healer of the Order of Tirsar, and all the Sisters accompanying me today!” she desperately begged her Order’s prophetess.

All of a sudden, everything around her exploded in a deafening din of war cries.

A shower of lethal projectiles rained down on the cavalry in blue and silver. For one brief yet interminable span of time, everything was plunged into an abysmal darkness right before Aliana’s eyes. Black missiles filled the sky, shrouding all in shadows—as if death itself were descending from the firmament, extending its black wings to swallow them all up.

Aliana instinctively closed her eyes tightly so that the Lady of the Night would not take her away to the underworld.

Then hell let loose on the column.

Hearing the muffled exclamations around her, she opened her eyes again and looked at the heartbreaking scene unfolding before her. Lancers fell from their horses, moaning in pain, nameless heroes of Rogdon, their armor mercilessly pierced by enemy arrows amidst the hair-raising shrieks of the natives.

Aliana felt an arrow graze her cheek and, in the middle of the horror, her fear was too much to bear. She saw two of her Sisters fall from their mounts and slam into the ground. Only the heavy armor, with strong, thick plates, could withstand such an infernal assault. Aliana clung to her horse in a desperate attempt to survive the disastrous attack bearing down on the column.

In the midst of the horror, the blood, the death... the thunderous, powerful voice of Sergeant Mortuc could be heard drowning out the enemy’s savage screams.

“Lances at the ready!”

The column obeyed with military precision.

“Prepare for the charge!”

Aliana held her breath.

“Charge!”

The Lancers spurred their mounts.

“For Rogdon!”

A fiercely violent clash ensued between the wedge formed by the powerful horses and the barrier of savages who were trying to keep them from advancing. Green-skinned bodies with faces painted red were thrown left and right as they were struck by the brutal impact of the lead cavalrymen who succeeded in bursting through the enemy’s first rows. The horses continued to charge the natives who, in their attempt to close the breach, were knocked over and trampled by the well-trained animals. The Rogdonian’s sharp lances, wielded with extreme precision, brought instant death to the Usik. The expert Lancers broke through the barrier like the keel of a ship plowing through waves. They pushed their mounts to the limit as they climbed toward the summit of the first mountain.

Aliana looked at those who had fallen as she sped past. The Usik were trying to reorganize themselves to attack again. One of them—the one who appeared to be the leader, was shouting orders and gesticulating angrily while pointing toward the top of the hill. He was dressed in an unusual outfit: a long tunic that was completely covered in feathers.
Enormous
feathers that looked like they must have come from a gigantic bird. On his head he wore a mask with a huge beak that hid his face. The image of this bird-chief made Aliana feel intensely anxious. She looked to her right to make sure Gerart was still there beside her and saw him, his shining armor glowing with an aura of invincibility. The sense of security emanating from the prince calmed Aliana’s heart, and she let out a sigh of relief.

All of a sudden, two natives tried to knock the prince off his mount. But Gerart fought them off with a powerful sweep of his shield. They stumbled several steps back, colliding with other attackers and knocking them over.

The column had broken free from the ambush and swiftly escaped toward the summit.

Their velvety coats glistening with sweat, the horses would soon be overcome by exhaustion. Aliana knew they would not be able to endure such a crushing pace, let alone uphill. She looked behind her where the last of the Lancers had fallen after his mount was struck in the neck by an arrow as they crossed the enemy’s line. The horseman tumbled hard over the ground, though somehow managed to recover and get back on his feet. He unsheathed his sword and took his shield from the dead animal’s side.

Seeing his predicament, one of his fellow soldiers forcefully pulled on his horse’s reins to stop and motioned for him to mount and ride with him.

“Lemus! Get on, quick! Let’s get out of here!” he urged.

The Lancer looked at him for a moment, but he did not make a move.

“Let’s go, Lemus! Hurry!”

“Thanks, Morgen, my old friend, but you know as well as I do that if I get on I’m condemning us both to death. That poor horse is at his limit; he won’t be able to keep going with that much weight on him.”

“Come on, Lemus! Don’t worry about that; we’ll manage somehow. Get on, for the love of the Light, get on!” Morgen shouted, offering his hand.

But the unmounted Lancer made no move toward his friend.

“It’s been a pleasure and an honor to serve with you, Morgen.”

“No, Lemus, no!”

“For Rogdon!” shouted Lemus with all the rage of a man aware of his imminent, bloody end.

He faced the enemy and ran toward the Usik that were almost upon him.

Morgen watched him one final heartrending moment then saluted him with a nod of his head, honoring the valiant Lancer’s sacrifice.

“We will meet again... on the other side, my friend.” He turned his mount and spurred, leaving the savages behind.

The survivors rode for their lives until they reached the summit.

The horses had made it to the top, but they were on the verge of collapse. Sergeant Mortuc dismounted and looked behind them for any possible pursuers. Seeing none, he ordered, “Dismount! Rest the horses!”

When Lomar saw Kendas among the living he raised his sword in a gesture of gladness. Then he jumped off his steed and looked all around, searching the survivors, trying to locate Jasmine. He started to feel worried when at first he didn’t find the Healer, but his eyes finally spotted her. She was there. She had dismounted and was sitting beside a thicket with her head down next to one of her Sisters. They were the only two survivors of the Order. Seeing her alive, Lomar’s stomach did a flip-flop; he breathed a sigh of relief and gave thanks to the Light, instantly feeling the enormous weight that had been crushing his chest had been lifted.

He walked toward her. “Are you all right, Jasmine?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“What do you care?” came the irascible response from Jasmine’s surviving Sister.

“Give us a moment, Olga, please,” Jasmine requested.

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” explained Lomar.

“Thank you, Lancer. I appreciate your concern. I’m fine—physically, at least. No need for you to worry.”

“That was pure hell... I didn’t know if you’d survived...”

“I was lucky, unlike the majority of my Sisters. It was... horrendous... The savages, the blood, the deaths... I thought we were all going to die.” Unable to hold back the tears, Jasmine covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

Moved by her anguish, Lomar knelt down beside her and tried to console her.

“It was terrible, I know, but we survived it. We should be thankful for that. We are alive, miraculously... alive. Think about your duty, about your Healing Sister who survived, about how you must protect her—now more than ever—since the danger hanging over her is even greater now.”

Jasmine looked into his eyes and her face softened a little. Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you, Lancer?”

“Yes. It’s my only virtue. Or at least that’s what you told me, pretty warrior,” he replied with a smile.

“That and a propensity for gallantry—which won’t serve you at all with a Sister of the Order of Tirsar, and even less so with me.”

“Ouch! You wound me!”

“Did you think because I was vulnerable you could woo me with your smooth talking? Don’t let my tears confuse you; I still think men are absolutely useless.” Her lips curved up into a whisper of a smile.

“Allow this useless man to dry your tears,” said Lomar, taking out a handkerchief and doing just that.

“Thank you for your kindness. I’m better now. It was just a difficult moment brought on by the horror we’ve just been through. Today I lost Sisters I loved deeply. My heart is broken.”

“I feel the same way. Many of my fellow brothers in arms died today. It doesn’t seem real; it’s like a nightmare I keep hoping I’ll wake up from. I’d just like to open my eyes and find them all singing by the campfire. But the punishing reality is I will never see them again.”

“Just thinking about it brings me to tears but I have to be strong. Aliana needs me.”

“Yes, the best thing we can do in this time of sadness is to concentrate on our duty, on moving forward. We have no choice. We will get out of this alive, you’ll see. Trust me.”

“Thank you for your encouragement, Lomar.”

“Ah! So you
do
know my name. I was thinking you hadn’t even bothered to commit it to memory.”

“You never pass up on an opportunity, do you, Lancer? Whenever you can, you charge ahead.”

“It’s always a privilege to stand out amongst the hated. Like my mother always said, ‘If you are going to do something, be sure to do it well,’” he said, grinning widely.

Jasmine smiled back at him.

“If you need me, I’m here.”

Jasmine nodded and Lomar walked away, his heart somewhat lighter and just a bit more optimistic after the conversation with the beautiful Protectress. Knowing that she was all right made him feel a bit better, even in the midst of so much death, devastation, and pain.

Aliana looked around her. No more than a dozen Lancers had survived. She felt a terrible remorse down to her very soul. Many brave and loyal soldiers from the kingdom had lost their lives. Though she was accustomed to fighting sickness and pain, the fallout after merciless deaths always left a bitter taste in her mouth along with a lump in her throat. She had not had a chance to save any of the fallen and that deeply saddened her. The helplessness of seeing so many young, full lives with such bright futures ahead that could have been saved by her Gift—but were lost—was consuming her. But she was fully aware that if she had dismounted to help them, they would have torn her to pieces in a second. Still, that notion was little consolation. Good men and women had perished that day and her soul could not help but to weep bitterly.

Her eyes searched for her Sisters. Only Jasmine and Olga had survived. Irrepressible tears washed over her cheeks as she recalled the faces of the Sisters she would never see again. They had died protecting her, and even though she knew that was their mission in life as devoted Protectress Sisters, it did not make her loss any easier to bear.

Several of the soldiers had wounds that would require her talent. She dismounted and went to one who had an arrow stuck in his thigh.

“You need a tourniquet,” she said, laying her hands around the arrow.

“No problem. I’ll wait until we are safe—it’s barely even bothering me,” the young soldier good-naturedly lied.

Mortuc approached and examined his man’s wound.

“I am sorry, Healer, but we must go on. We cannot stop here to attend to him. The Usik are close behind; they’ll soon catch up with us. We must get out of here quickly or we’ll be done for.”

“But the wounded need attention. I can help them,” protested Aliana, standing up to the strapping Sergeant.

Mortuc placed his enormous hands on Aliana’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

“The wounded will have to hang on until we are beyond the reach of those savages. No one is so injured that he cannot continue for a few hours more.”

The Sergeant turned around, settling the matter once and for all by walking away with his characteristic flair.

Gerart came and stood next to her and placed his hand on her back. “It’s better if we follow the Sergeant’s instructions. His experience will guide us well. I know you desperately want to help them, but he’s right; we should go on.”

Aliana looked into Gerart’s blue eyes and immediately got lost in them. Her soul was instantly calmed. Having only to cross the threshold of his glance she was swept away in an endless sea of feelings. Even in this time of great anxiety she felt as though she wanted never to be away from him again.

“All right, Gerart. I’ll attend to them later.”