Shadow Lands (19 page)

S
hanti glanced
up at the sun. It was midday and dry. There were plenty of clouds coming, though. Thick, heavy clouds promising rain rolled in from the horizon.

“I just want to get to a place with a roof, a hot bath and a warm blanket,” Shanti said, following behind Cayan as they emerged from the dense wood. “And a massage. I could really use a massage. My legs are tight, my wounds itch, and I ache all over.”

Cayan said nothing. There was an urgency in his step that gave her a nervous tingle. Like when she felt presences in the wood, he seemed to feel the need to get back as fast as possible. She agreed, and used just as much haste. She’d walked into the snake pit often in her life—she refused to let fear rule her. Not before the worst presented itself, anyway.

They’d each seen those lights once more, and had used the other as a lifeline to pull themselves out. This last trial hadn’t been easy by any stretch, but it also hadn’t been the nightmare she’d expected.

“The Shadow people probably test themselves with those lights,” Shanti mused, noticing the trees thinning as they walked down a gradual incline. “It took great strength of will to resist that temptation.”

The heavy fall of Cayan’s feet mingled with the chirping of the birds in the trees. He didn’t respond.

“The terrain too, I imagine. Even getting across that bridge took a lot of courage. And being stalked in the night by something you couldn’t see or feel—yeah, I can see how a prospective leader would go through that trial.”

An insect jumped out of their path, and flew away. The cub moved around in her pack before settling again.

“Cayan, talk to me,” she tried.

“I just feel like something is coming, Shanti. I feel like we can’t go fast enough. I can’t explain why, or how I could possibly know, but my gut says this is it. The Graygual will make a grab for you, and the Shadow and my people will be the only thing preventing your capture. I’m worried about losing you.”

The nervous tingle exploded from her stomach and raced down her arms to her fingertips. She itched to grab her sword and felt the press of the knives against her leg. She smelled the crisp air of the day, welcoming her to yet another battle.

This time, she was not afraid. This time she would not run—she would fight Xandre’s minions to the death. Theirs or hers.

She took a deep breath and let the adrenaline seep out of her body. It was too soon to get ready. It was too early to hear the call of battle. She’d be worn out before she’d begun.

She’d enjoy these last moments of freedom.

S
anders stepped
off the stairs with Burson and allowed Portolmous and Sonson to walk forward, toward the door. A team of men and women wearing reddish-orange cured leather from head to toe were waiting for them. A sword hilt peeked out behind the shoulders of some while others wore bows. All had knives strapped somewhere on their bodies. Two wore silver whistles around their neck.

“Shadow Lord,” many said, offering her a slight bow.

“Merge together,” the Shadow Lord said, stepping in amongst them in her black. Sonson peeled off a loose layer of cloth to reveal a blue leather suit. Portolmous did the same.

“Awfully colorful for battle,” Sanders muttered.

The hairs on Sanders arms and neck stood on end as the eyes of the Shadow people glowed. They were using mind-power. Sanders nodded in approval; they needed as many mind-workers as possible.

“We do not need to kill—save whatever energy you can,” the Shadow Lord said as everyone prepared to leave the building. “We need to keep them down and prevent them from joining the battle. Reduce them to their knees, and cut them while they are down. Then, we join the others to secure our land.”

“Yes, Shadow Lord,” many said while others stood in silence, tall and straight, with fierce eyes and confident bearings.

The doors burst open and the Shadow went out, organized and graceful. Sanders rushed forward, joined immediately by his men. They couldn’t use their minds, but they could use their swords just fine.

Sanders felt the cobblestone of the city greet his foot as he heard the first scream, followed by a chorus of many more. Jogging, sword in hand, he sped up as the Shadow in front of him started to run. Long, even strides took them around the building and into the square.

A wall of black greeted them. The Graygual stood in front with crinkled uniforms and dirty faces, all clearly lower ranks. They had been sent to die—to slow the Shadow down while the Inkna in the back engaged.

But the Shadow had Burson.

Howling erupted from the crowd of black uniforms, many grabbing their heads and dropping to the ground.

Sanders barreled into the line of Graygual, knocking three down and cleaving them where they lay. He worked through the agony-ridden men, sticking and hacking, not worried about killing as much as keeping them from joining a larger conflict. He jabbed his sword through a chest, hacked at a neck, and waded through even as the Shadow worked ahead of him, using both their minds and swords. Even the Shadow Lord was using her weapon, brutal in her strikes and confident in her ability.

“If it wasn’t Graygual, this would feel wrong,” Xavier said as he brought his sword down on a man cowering on the ground.

“They outnumber us five to one,” Sanders said in a string of grunts. “And they planned to do to us what we are now doing to them. This is the way the game is played, boy. New rules.”

“Wait… until—” Leilius stabbed someone in the eye, gagged, and slit someone’s throat. “—S’am and the Captain come through.” He stabbed again, grimaced, jabbed, gagged, and kept moving forward.

The gagging didn’t appear to slow him down.

“There’re no officers,” Rohnan yelled as they worked to the back of the crowd, leaving a large pile of writhing bodies in their wake. “This is just to thin the Shadow numbers.”

“Didn’t work,” Sanders grunted as he stabbed down before stepped over the last body. Ahead of him lay Inkna, many on the ground with their backs to the sky, having tried to run when Burson cut off their power. They didn’t make it far. A stronger power came calling.

“Do we have enough horses?” the Shadow Lord said as they jogged around the side of the building.

“Yes, with a couple to spare. I thought the Graygual might try to get into the city stables and take down our mounts,” Sonson answered, turning left at the back of the building.

“Yes, I wonder why they did not…” The Shadow Lord glanced back the way she’d come, her eyes distant.

“The officers must have organized this group, and left them to it. Their chief concern was not the city,” Rohnan ventured.

Ten minutes saw them all mounted and ready, riding fierce-eyed animals of decent breeding. Sanders’ horse pranced until given the command to trot forward, doing so with vigor.

They rode out of the city, ignoring the bodies littering the ground or dragging themselves along the cobblestone. Once in the wood, they branched off into three groups, riding fast along well-used roads and trails wide enough for two horses to ride abreast through the trees. They wound around north, climbing in elevation. The salty air whipped by their faces as the sound of hooves thundered along the path.

At the top of a hill, the trees started to clear. As they did, Sanders saw other men on horseback alongside others on foot. Some wore reds, some purple, and only Sonson and Portolmous were dressed in blue. Their colors denoted their rank with their leathers providing some protection.

It’d be nice if it also kept them alive.

There were at least a couple of hundred people gathered, but the only sounds were animals. No murmur of voices rose to meet them. No jittery laughter or harsh growls. They stood and waited for their leaders to take them to battle.

“Oh… shit…” Rachie said as they crested the top of the hill on the outskirts of the gathered Shadow.

Sanders’ men weren’t so disciplined but when Sanders learned the reason for the outburst, he didn’t blame the kid.

In the valley below them, nestled between the trees, were many specks of black. Like ants around a leftover picnic, the Graygual gathered en masse.

“They know where the Chosen will emerge, and they are in prime position to take her,” Rohnan said in a flat voice.

Sonson walked his horse alongside Sanders. He pointed to the east where the blue of the sea glittered in the distance. “They have ships stationed over there. They took a fishing harbor last night. By the time we suspected what their plans were, we were too late. They plan to grab her and ferret her off to the ships.”

“Are these all the men we have?” Sanders asked, glancing back at the Shadow who would not be nearly enough.

Thankfully, Sonson shook his head. “These are all those with
Therma.
I believe we might at least match the Inkna. And then, with the older man—Burson?”

Sanders nodded in confirmation.

“He will tip things in our favor. The rest of our people with non-fighting
Therma,
or no
Therma
at all, are stationed in those trees to the west of their force. We are about two hundred strong there. We are outnumbered.”

“Why did you let them bring in so many men?” Sanders asked with a mystified voice.

“In the beginning, most arrived as tourists. With all the talk of this Inkna-Chosen, that made sense and we did not suspect foul play. We’ve always been neutral to all as long as our rules were upheld. By the time we realized…”

“They were always ahead of you,” Daniels said from behind, plotting on his map. “They have been ahead of us too. Their leader lured Shanti here. He thought he held the upper hand. And he would have, if not for the Captain’s power. Surely he will not expect their…
Joining
, or whatever you call it. It is too late for him to make drastic alterations to his plans now. The Captain has tipped our hand.”

“What do you suggest?” the Shadow Lord asked Daniels.

“There are not many options, but the only problem will be their escape. We will apply pressure from this side and your other forces must come in from the west. We should be engaged in battle by the time the Captain and Shanti descend from that hill. We need their people engaged.
Thoroughly
engaged. Otherwise, they can simply put up a barrier for us, grab their prize, and head to their ship.”

“My thought was to wait for the larger power to join us, but that is sound planning,” Portolmous said, glancing at the valley below.

“We are sure the hopeful-Chosen has the power of legends?” the Shadow Lord asked. “If not, we waste lives on a battle that is not our concern.”

“It is our concern, mother,” Sonson said with steel in his voice. “They came to our home, flouted our laws, killed our people. This is our fight, with or without a Chosen.”

“You are right. Forgive me. But without additional help, we will not succeed,” the Shadow Lord responded.

“The man alone has enough
Therma,”
Portolmous said. “If they
Joined
…”

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Sanders said. “The day is wasting, and I want to be in bed by dark.” He twisted in his saddle and glanced back at his men. They were ready.

“I sure hope that leader presents himself—I wouldn’t mind being the one to kill him. Think of all the girls I’ll get!” Gracas blurted.

Sanders just shook his head. There was nothing to say.

“Alert the others,” the Shadow Lord commanded. “Merge!”

Burson glanced behind them, “I have never seen so many with power merge.”

Rohnan shook his head. “Not even my people attempted a merge this large. After twenty, it isn’t needed.”

“We have a special way of linking which builds the power higher,” the Shadow Lord said, voice grim. “You do not have the type of power to see that. Your sister will tell you, if we ever meet her.”

“You will, and she’ll wreak havoc,” Sanders growled, feeling the anticipation. Feeling the build of adrenaline. Feeling the sword in his hand. “Let me know when, ma’am. I’m ready to unleash Hell.”

“Good luck to you all,” the Shadow Lord said in a loud voice. “May you defend your home with steadfastness. With heart. May you find glory on the battlefield!”

A loud “
Huah
,” went up. Swords raised. “
Huah!”
Weapons pulsed in the air. “
Huah!”

Expectation rose. Sanders’ heart thumped in his chest. His horse stamped and pulled in expectation.

And the Shadow Lord’s sword fell. “
Huah!”
she yelled.

Sanders kicked his animal and raced down the hill. The others were right beside him. Hooves thundered on the ground. The first sprinkle of rain whipped in Sanders’ face. Thunder boomed overhead.

From the west horses launched from the trees, running at the Graygual full speed. Sanders urged his horse faster, mad grin on his face from the speed, the first line of Graygual crystalizing in his vision as he neared them.

He raised his sword, ready. Rohnan’s staff whirled beside him. Fifty strides now, and the standing Graygual started to shift from side to side.

Thirty. Men began to scramble, but there was nowhere to run.