Shadow Lands (7 page)

“My thoughts exactly, Tomous. You’re not as dumb as you look.” Sanders looked down the road toward their dwelling.

“You are,” Tomous said, huffing a small laugh that didn’t turn into a smile as he stared at yet another group of Graygual coming through the gate. The kid had a hard time of it a few years ago—Sanders could see the scars in the kids’ eyes. But he was a fighter, and he was starting to come out of his shell. Sometimes all a man needed was a purpose, and Shanti had given him that. Sanders was letting it blossom.

“Where the hell are Burson and Leilius? They’re holding us up.” Sanders growled.

“Burson’s coming, but he told Leilius to stay behind,” Marc answered in a wispy tone that meant he hated being noticed by Sanders. Sanders knew that tone well.

“Said Leilius wouldn’t come back if he went out tonight,” Tepson volunteered. “I was there. Told the younger boys to stay away from the pretty girls, too. Told them to listen to Ruisa in whatever she said. He didn’t do that weird smile or look at the sky, once. That guy is pretty wound up.”

“He’s trying to keep us on track with a constantly changing situation.” Sanders nodded and adjusted the knives at his belt. “He say anything about the Captain and Shanti?”

“Muttered something about how they were nearing their biggest milestone,” Tomous said as he glanced at the Shadow woman still staring at them. It was starting to get irritating. “Said they were holding up their path, or something, but we were a gaggle of field-mice herded by cats, and we could tear it all down.”

“Helpful,” Sanders said with a sarcastic tone. “And did he happen to mention when he’d be along?”

“Here.” The older man walked up with dark circles under his eyes, a messy gray halo of hair around his head. “I wanted to speak with Rohnan before he went out.”

Sanders nodded and started forward.

“If you leave, you are without protection,” they heard as they neared the gate. The voice was high and squeaky. Girlish, almost. The Shadow woman followed them with her gaze.

“If you continually lock yourself in your city,
you
will be without protection,” Sanders shot back as he left the gate.

“Do you think they know what’s coming?” Tomous asked quietly.

From what Sanders had picked up, Tomous was fully expecting the Graygual to declare war and take the city any day. He thought they’d do it before Shanti emerged from the trials so they could greet her with shackles. Sanders had to admit that it sounded likely.

“They don’t seem stupid to me,” Tobias said. “They have to know something is happening, especially with so many Graygual coming in. But they sure aren’t acting on it.”

“No, they aren’t,” Sanders growled. “Otherwise, they’d figure out what’s going on in that Trespasser Village.”

“Are we going to wander through?” Xavier asked in a nonchalant voice. He couldn’t hide the adrenaline fueling his words. He was still new to all this. Fighting real enemies had the kid as jumpy as a whore talking to God.

“No,” Sanders said.

Before he could elaborate, Burson added, “Whatever festers in the darkness needs to remain there for now. Bringing it into the light will alter all our lives.”

“Hard to argue with crazy,” Tobias muttered.

Sanders had to agree, but that crazy had also steered them here safely, so Sanders didn’t plan to throw stones.

A
n hour
later they found themselves walking in the shadow of the briar fence separating the trials from the rest of the island. They’d passed by the docks, checked in with SeaFarer, and heard that three ships full of Graygual and Inkna had landed. The contents of two ships had gone toward the Trespasser Village, and the rest headed into the city. Strangely, the senior officers had veered toward the Village.

SeaFarer commented that that wasn’t normal. Sanders had to agree, unless the Graygual needed secrecy away from the watchful eyes of the Shadow people.

Sanders looked up at the massive wall of horribly prickly briars. Not even a sword would hack through, and no one was going to climb that thing and survive. Sanders was no gardener, but this type of plant looked like someone had experimented on it over the course of a lot of years, and taken great pains to breed and grow the thing just right. It was an excellent barrier.

Except…

He stopped in front of a gaping, black hole. The sides were ragged, as if someone had chopped their way through with an axe. Through the opening, big enough for two to walk abreast, Sanders could make out more thick forest. Hard boot prints made a rough path through the center of the gap. More than a few people had come and gone, as evidenced by the ripping away of grass and moss, leaving small and bare stones in the wake.

“This isn’t good,” Tobias said into the din.

The rest of the men spread out, facing outwards. All had swords in their hands.

“The Shadow people must know about this,” Tomous said.

“If they do, they aren’t doing a whole helluva lot to guard it,” Sanders growled, tempted to go inside and find the Captain. If he did that, though, his men would follow, leaving half their party exposed to whatever was going on in and around the city. It would also put them all in one group, which would make them easy to take down.

Sanders had to keep his position on the outside to keep the way clear for the Captain and Shanti to emerge. That was the best way to play this.

He also had to kill every Graygual and Inkna he could find. If they kept flooding the city, they’d dominate in number. That was a no-win situation.

“Okay.” Sanders turned around and faced the deep night. Only splinters of moonlight pierced the canopy above. “Let’s head back. We have work to do.”

Sanders turned around, the rest falling in line silently. Their footfall barely made a sound, and the swish of their clothes deadened quickly.

If they hadn’t been followed, all that would’ve meant something.

“Three
Sarshers,
” Burson said in a quiet warning. “Twenty paces out. I am now masking your minds. They know you are here though.”

“How many others?” Sanders asked, dodging behind a tree. The rest of the men peeled away to the sides, hiding behind the nearest trunk.

“I can only feel those with mind-power. I’m not like Shanti,” Burson whispered.

The creak of wood announced that someone had drawn a bow.

“Can you keep their power off of us so we can cut them down?” Sanders asked as he peered around his tree. Another bow creaked in the quiet forest.

“Yes. But I cannot kill them.”

“They can’t fight, anyway—if they run, though…” Tobias let the comment linger.

“Then we kill them before they reach the city—” Sanders cut off as a footfall fell in wet mud. Leaves rustled. Another boot sloshed in the darkness. Then more.

Not training those Inkna how to fight was a blessing for Sanders’ side.

A black shape moved into the space between two trees about ten paces away. Two more joined it, directly behind. A beam of moonlight splashed down on the leader, revealing dark hair and a high-necked tunic. A sword flashed at the man’s side before he was nothing more than a dark shape on a darker background, hard to define.

Sanders glanced at the tree where Tobias waited patiently with a half-drawn bow in hand. Tobias was waiting for some sort of signal. Sanders pointed off to the left, then made an arc with his finger, telling Tobias to walk around the outside of the cluster and try to get behind. The moonlight was dim, but it had been enough—Tobias silently moved away.

Sanders turned the other way, but all he could see was Xavier. A moment’s hesitation ended in Sanders trusting the kid. He wasn’t great, but he was good. He could do it.

He waved his hand, drawing the kid’s attention and giving him the same instruction, sending him the other way around. Xavier nodded. His footsteps were as silent as Tobias’ had been.

The leading Graygual moved through speckled moonlight. He had ten at his back. Three more followed way behind, and though they were still in the darkness, Sanders bet those were the Inkna.

Sanders and his men were outnumbered. Grossly outnumbered if he took away Marc and Burson, the non-fighters. He could tell everyone to melt away into the darkness, to hide and then to run. With Burson to mask their minds, they could make it.

With the number of Graygual that had landed, though, they’d always be outnumbered. If they didn’t make a statement, a hard, vicious statement, it would look like they were afraid.

Bullies thrived on fear. Might as well wave them on for a second attempt.

A boot splashed into an unseen puddle, less than ten paces away. Sanders’ hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Adrenaline spiked in his body and blood pounded in his ears with the nearness of the enemy.

He glanced behind him. Everyone had shifted to be able to see him. Waiting for the command. Ready to fight for their Captain and their cause.

He connected eyes with Burson. It was now or never—the call to fight was upon them.

Burson nodded slowly. He adjusted his body slightly. A bow edge stuck out from the tree.

Sanders turned with bent knees, crouching. He put his thumb up so everyone could see—
we fight!
Then an open hand took its place—
wait for my signal.

The boot falls moved closer. The sound barely carried within the crypt of the trees. A silhouette came into sight, staring ahead, sword out. Creeping. Trying to be silent. More came behind, moving past Sanders, completely oblivious.

Sanders’ hand was still raised. He did not move. His heart hammered in his ears.

More bodies moved past, working into the middle of Sanders’ men. As the last was visible, Sanders made a fist with his hand and dropped it in a quick motion—
charge!

He burst out toward the closest man, a silent shadow. His sword-thrust pierced soft flesh, stabbing a kidney. The man screamed. He fell before he knew he was dying. Sanders was on to the next, stabbing a knife into a man’s neck before he could react to the scream. Sanders ripped the knife out, blocked a sword strike, and jabbed his knife in an eye. Liquid spattered his face. He pulled the knife out before thrusting his sword through his gut, just in case the Graygual thought he’d fight through his dying gurgle.

A bowstring rang through the night. Someone to Sanders’ right screamed. Another arrow’s release was followed by another scream.

Yells broke out as the Graygual realized what was happening. Black shapes sticking to dark patches filed out from the trees. Moonlight showed glimpses of shiny material, wet with rain, and occasionally a sword flashing, before more Graygual screamed. Sanders’ men knew to attack silently.

Sanders ran at the next Graygual, stabbing through his back, making him arch before pushing the body to the side. As the scream died, he turned to the next, slashing with his sword before plunging his knife into a hard chest plate. It took a moment to yank the blade free.

He spun. The moonlight caught metal high in the air. A Graygual was descending on him. The sword swung toward Sanders’ head.

With no time to block, but needing to be inside that sword strike, Sanders barreled into the man, knocking him to the ground. Mud flew out around them. Sanders stabbed the man’s side with his knife as his opponent struggled, then slashed across his sword wrist.

The man bellowed, thrashing. Sanders stabbed again, and then once more, until the man weakened. Sanders rose to his feet, then feinted to one side as a blade barely missed him. Reacting, he caught the next sword strike with his own, then lunged forward, plunging his steel into the man.

Sanders looked for the next as the last dying scream wrenched the night. Muddy, or bloody—it was hard to tell in the low light—and winded, Sanders’ men stood tall with swords in hand, waiting for the next strike. A quiet tally indicated they’d all made it, and they’d all fought, including Marc and Burson.

The former was the only one looking awestruck that he was still alive, however.

“Any wounds?” Sanders asked, looking behind him in case more came.

“I just need a few stitches, but I’m okay,” Xavier said, shrugging off something that probably hurt a lot more than he was letting on, judging by the strain in his voice.

“You going to bleed out?” Sanders asked seriously, turning his attention back to the kid. Marc had already moved to Xavier’s side.

“No. I’m okay,” Xavier reiterated.

“Sounds like it stings a little,” Tepson said, chuckling as he bent to the body closest.

“What about the Inkna?” Sanders asked.

It was Tobias who answered. “They were sitting ducks. Just waiting back there wringing their hands. They looked spooked.”

“They could not access their mind-power. They have not trained for vulnerability,” Burson said.

“This Graygual looks like he’s got two slashes,” Tepson said before looking at another body. “Hard to see, but looks like two over here, too.”

“This one has only one,” Tomous said, staring down at his feet. He held his sword with a tense body, still ready to take more vengeance.

“They are low ranking,” Burson said as he looked out past Sanders. “They have been following us since the city.”