The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil (21 page)

Trembling, Aiva tried to climb up from the ground, using one of the horses as a support. Kaemin was beside her, ushering her toward the wagon. “Get inside,” he whispered.

Overcome by a new wave of nausea Aiva doubled over, coughing up nothing but dry air.
That could have been me…
The thought was horrifying. He’d been right next to her. Only inches away.

“Phelan is dead, Captain,” one of the men called out. Dead. Of course he was dead! There was an arrow in his neck. She wanted to shout at the man for his ignorance but found her words caught in her throat, unable to speak. Or scream. That was what she wanted to do. Scream out her frustration and fear.

Aiva tried to straighten to a standing position, clutching at her stomach. She felt ill. Blood stained the sand around Phelan’s head, creeping closer to Aiva’s feet. Kaemin remained vigilant at her side, his body between her and the direction from which the arrow had come. Callum stood at the front-line, bow drawn, ready. The men who had been tending to Phelan gave up their attempts to revive him, brandishing their bows to scan the horizon. The stillness of the desert was unnerving. Everything was quiet. Unmoving. No hint of where the attack had come from, or where the assailant was even now.

“Aiva, please,” Kaemin’s voice was barely above a whisper. Aiva could feel his hand on her arm, gently urging her to the wagon. “You will be safer inside.”

His request fell on deaf ears. Aiva heard none of it, eyes locked ahead on Callum where he stood guard, motioning toward something in the distance. Taking his direction, the men spread out, tightening their grip on their weapons. Straining her eyes, Aiva struggled to see what had caught Callum’s attention. There was a shadow. It had gone unnoticed by her at first though now she could see it clearly. One, quickly followed by another; creeping out from around an outcropping not far from where they had come to pause.

In an instant the world turned to total chaos before Aiva’s eyes. The soldiers sprung into action as the shadowy figures became visible. They were men, human, but in Aiva’s mind they looked like monsters. Dirty. Greasy. Hair disheveled, blowing wildly atop their heads as they rushed toward the wagon.

The wagon. “Oh, gods,” Aiva breathed. They were coming closer. Panicked, she reached for something – anything – that might be used as a weapon. She needed to defend herself. Glancing down, she could still see Phelan’s lifeless corpse at her feet, reminding her of what these men were capable of. This was no game like the ones she and her brother played in the palace courtyard as children. These men would kill her if she let them close enough to swing their blades.

Kaemin pushed her back again with nothing more than the weight of his body, moving to stand in front of Aiva, protective, concealing her from view of the attackers. Desperate, Aiva grabbed for the knife on Kaemin’s belt, receiving nothing but a sharp look from her friend. He would have to understand. There was no time to ask permission.

Arrows whipped through the air at Callum’s loud commands, finding their marks easily. The two assailants went down just as another pair leapt from hiding behind the outcropping, bearing shields to protect themselves from the next volley released by the soldiers. Crying out, Aiva tightened her hold on the knife, squeezing it until her knuckles were white. Their attackers were closing in fast. It wouldn’t be long before the ranged weapons would become useless in defending their unit.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when she heard Callum give the order for his men to relinquish their bows. In front of her, Aiva watched Kaemin draw his sword, stepping forward to intercept one of their foes. From where she stood, she could see the faces of the men more clearly. Their complexion sun-darkened, long strands of oily hair hanging carelessly in front of their eyes. A blue piece of cloth was wrapped tightly around the forehead of the assailant Kaemin challenged. It looked to be a symbol of some kind, matching that worn by the man’s partner.

In her peripheral vision Aiva caught sight of two more men making their way swiftly toward the soldiers. She called out a warning to the others, knowing it to be pointless, but she didn’t care. Her head reeled. She wasn’t prepared for battle, watching it all in a blur. And Callum… how could he be so calm? Aiva watched him, mouth agape, awed by the ease with which he utilized his sword, much the same as he had against Edric at the joust. Face creased in concentration, he met his opponent’s strikes with his own, blocking, parrying, showing no sign of fear.

The sound of footsteps thudding dully on the sand pulled Aiva from her distant thoughts, reminded of the danger she was in. Kaemin was no longer there to protect her, drawn away in the heat of combat. Her heart felt as though it leapt to her throat, choking her to realize one of the men was coming toward her, a flash of sunlight reflecting from the blade of his saber. Horrified, Aiva let her eyes drift down to the knife in her hand. It would be worthless in a fight against a weapon of the size brandished by her enemy. She couldn’t stand toe-to-toe in battle. Her only option was to run.

Fear and adrenaline forced her legs to move, carrying her with long strides around to the other side of the wagon. She needed cover. Somewhere to hide. But there was nowhere to go. Her opportunity to remain out of sight had come and gone when she ignored Kaemin’s attempts to help. Now she could only hope that she would be fast enough to outrun her opponent.

Rounding the back of the wagon, Aiva felt her foot catch on the fabric of her oversized pants. Helplessly, she screamed, arms outstretched, desperate to regain her balance. The ground was rushing toward her, faster and faster, until finally it collided mercilessly with her body. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, making it impossible to cry out. Rolling onto her back, she brought her hand up in a last attempt to defend against the man as he descended upon her.
I’m sorry, Shae
; she thought miserably, closing her eyes in preparation for the final blow of her enemy’s sword. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was too young to die like this…

Aiva laid in the sand for what felt like hours, waiting, yet feeling nothing. No excruciating pain of a blade being run through her chest. No sound of her enemy’s laughter at his conquest. A pain-filled grunt came from somewhere nearby, her eyes opening to find her assailant in Callum’s hands. Fingers woven tightly into the man’s hair, Callum yanked him harshly away from Aiva.

“Where is the Princess?” Callum growled, eyes narrowed, angry. The glow of his umber eyes flashed menacingly, staring hard at the man in his grasp. The man sneered at the question, turning his head with a disgusting snort, projecting spittle into Callum’s face. Tightening his hold, Callum brought the tip of a knife against the man’s throat, leaning in closer to repeat the question. “Where is the Princess!”

“Go to hell.”

“I am giving you one last chance to answer my question.” The knife pressed harder against the man’s skin under Callum’s control, piercing it, a small trickle of blood appearing under the tip. “Tell me where the Princess is or I will spill your blood in honor of the soldier you murdered.”

“You aren’t man enough to kill me.”

The words had barely reached Aiva’s ears before the blade of Callum’s knife moved over the man’s throat in a sharp, precise motion. The choking sound emanating from his dying form caused Aiva to flinch, clutching at her stomach. She was going to vomit. There was so much blood! It flowed freely down the man’s neck, soaking the fabric of his tattered shirt. Callum retracted his hand to avoid dirtying his skin with the dark substance, shoving the lifeless corpse to the ground in disgust. It landed in the sand with a sickening thud. Unmoving. The man was dead. Callum had killed him. Aiva had witnessed the deed with her very eyes and yet it was almost impossible for her to accept. How had the boy she’d known as a child grown up to be a murderer? A cold-blooded killer. He’d given no hesitation to ending that man’s life. It seemed second nature to him. Nothing more than reflex. And even now he showed no remorse, stepping over the corpse without even a glance to offer his hand to Aiva.

“Get away!” she shrieked, scrambling backward across the warm sand to distance herself from Callum. She didn’t want to touch him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“Aiva – ”

“You killed him!” Arms wrapped over her stomach, Aiva managed to find her way to her feet, stumbling in shock and confusion at what she’d seen. It was one thing for her to believe him a traitor, but a murderer?

Another pair of hands came to rest on Aiva’s shoulders from behind, blocking her path of escape. She recognized Kaemin’s voice in her ear, gently urging her to be calm. They were safe. No one was going to hurt her. She just needed to relax. But how could she relax at a time like this?

“Your Highness, please,” another voice joined with Kaemin’s, the sound foreign to Aiva’s ears. Whipping her head to the side she found herself staring into the soft green eyes of Gadiel. She’d never seen him so close before, blinking in surprise at the sight of him. His skin, though it had been pale when they began the journey, now shared the same sun-kissed complexion as Kaemin, his features sharp, stern, looking over Aiva with an appraising gaze. He was taller than he looked from a distance, his height intimidating. Unsure of what to think of his interference she eased her struggle, her eyes locked on his, filled with uncertainty.

“He killed him,” she whispered, hearing the uneasiness of her tone. She was trembling. Everything was becoming too much for her. “The man had no weapon. He was no longer a threat and your Captain killed him.”

Gadiel nodded to her, making no move to come closer. “The pirates are our enemy. As a soldier, it is our duty to kill men like… that,” he gestured toward the corpse, his distaste obvious. “He may not have been a threat while the Captain had him in his grasp but if he was allowed free, he would have struck again. He had to be dealt with.”

“But he could have led us to Shaelyn! We should have taken him hostage. Surely we have the means to bind him. To prevent him from being a danger – ”

“We do not have the manpower to maintain a hostage,” Kaemin cut in.

Aiva gawked at him, frustrated to hear him taking Callum’s side. Kaemin was the only person she could trust. How could he stand before her and defend such a traitor? “How can you say that, Kaemin?” she gasped. “He could have been an asset! We needed him to find where they are taking Shaelyn.”

“No, we do not.” Callum’s voice commanded the attention of everyone. His expression was solemn, gazing sadly at Aiva, shaking his head. “You are not wrong about him being an asset, however.” Cautious, Callum took a step forward, kneeling beside the body of the man he had slain. His fingers grasped at something near the neck, pulling the fabric of the shirt away to reveal a darkened patch of skin. A tattoo of some kind, shaped into the design of an arrow crossed over a deeply arched saber.

Distracted from Aiva, Gadiel moved closer to the body, staring at the symbol, the glow of his green eyes flashing in a flicker of anger. He glanced toward Callum, lips pursed. “He was one of Ireni’s men,” Gadiel shook his head, clucking his tongue, thoughtful. “You knew it was bound to happen, Captain. We discussed the possibility on our way back from Siscal.”

“Yes,” Callum’s frown deepened. He continued to speak, his voice low. “I have suspected from the start that Moura had a hand in this. I feared she would attempt an attack on Tanispa, but I never once believed she would succeed. Tanispa is well-guarded. How did we let her slip through our fingers?” Callum’s fists clenched angrily, his knuckles becoming white before slowly releasing the tension. “Anyone else would have posed less of a threat. Ireni knows us. That makes her a dangerous enemy.”

“But we know her as well.”

“That only evens the field a little.” Rising to his feet, Callum straightened his posture, shoulders back, perfectly erect. The uncertainty which had been visible in his eyes only moments before was now imperceptible as he turned to face the other soldiers, directing their attention away from Aiva and back toward the body of Phelan where it lay next to the wagon. “Load him onto the horses. We cannot waste any more time here. The pirates are moving.”

Without hesitation, the soldiers quickly moved toward the corpse. The arrow lay beside it in the sand, causing Aiva to shudder at the memory of the precision of the strike. It was a disturbing demonstration of their enemy’s skill. She’d always thought the pirates to be brutes. Dirty and disgusting, lacking any formal training. A shot like that proved her suspicions wrong. Whoever held the bow which delivered the arrow was a skilled marksman. Practiced and deadly. And now the enemy had been named. She’d heard Callum and Gadiel speak the familiar sound, identifying the woman Dacian mentioned in their private meeting. Ireni Moura.

Aiva watched Callum turn away, an expression of loss on his face, unnoticed by the other men still hovering over Phelan’s corpse. She wanted to take pleasure in seeing the guilt written there on his features. Despite everything, she felt sorry for him. The men counted on him to give direction on what to do and he appeared to lack the answers he knew they expected. He refused to meet Aiva’s lingering gaze, stepping forward, eyes straight ahead, his voice barely audible. “Aiva, can you be my friend for a moment?”

The pain she heard in his words was unbearable. Through the uncertainty she held in regards to his loyalty, she couldn’t deny his request, following him as he stepped further from the others, coming to stop a good distance off the road, bathed in the heat of the sun overhead. “Callum, what it is? What’s wrong?”

“I never doubted myself before I returned to Tanispa. In my head I thought I had everything figured out. But seeing you again changed that.” He paused, keeping his gaze unfocused. “Maybe this Captain position wasn’t a good idea after all. I know the water. I know the ships in Siscal. So why does a single lost soldier in the desert have my mind at a blank?”

Animosity aside, she was pleased that Callum had chosen her to confide in. It played perfectly into her plan of gaining his trust. He was willing to admit his weakness to her when he would rather die than let his men see the mental struggle he currently fought through. Without Edric there, she was the closest thing to a friend he had. It came as a surprise that he pushed aside his pride long enough to speak with her, even though he could not bring himself to look in her eyes. “What has you so lost, exactly?” she asked. Unsure of how to comfort him, she stepped in closer, resting her hand hesitantly on his shoulder. She didn’t know how he would react to her touch. For some reason it felt the right thing to do in that moment. “Do you question how to properly handle the body?”