Reluctant Concubine (39 page)
Then one of the dark shapes rose a few steps to my right, staggering—a Kerghi warrior as large as a bear, nearly gutted. Somehow, miraculously, he still hung on to his sword. Blindly, he lurched toward me in the last rallying of his spirit. In but another moment his spirit would leave him, and he would collapse dead. Likely on top of my broken body. I could not move. I held my breath waiting for him to fall and skewer me.
He tilted forward slowly, his sword extended, blood running from his lips, his eyes rolling back in his head. As he crashed onto me, the air left my lungs in a painful whoosh. But his sword missed me.
I lay under him, covered in his blood and spilled innards, the foul stench of death all around, his great weight crushing me as I struggled to breathe. I fought to budge his heavy bulk. I could not. I wheezed, fighting for air.
I heard the city gate open and felt the ground shake as the manyinga entered the battle. Since Batumar had few of them, I knew he had decided to hold them back until the end, hoping the very sight of the fearsome beasts would strike terror into the hearts of the enemy. They had to fight on the opposite side of the battlefield from Lord Karnagh’s men and their tigers, as the beasts were not used to waging battle together.
I passed in and out of awareness, the noise of the battle rising and receding in my ears like the tide. But after a long while, as the night wore on, the battle clamor quieted. Far out of my reach, wounded men moaned. One who could still talk begged for help, another prayed for death.
I waited. Above me, a wispy, insubstantial cloud—like a decayed funeral shroud—floated over the moon.
Then a roar rent the night, as loud as any manyinga or any tiger. “Tera!”
I drew a ragged breath. Batumar had discovered I was missing.
He lives.
I could not call back.
Other voices rose, warriors shouting, “Lady Tera!”
Armor rattled as men scoured the battle field for me. The flickering light of torches moved through the darkness.
He lives.
He will come.
He will find me.
I repeated those words silently, held them like a shield against the pain, against the cold, against death that stalked around me.
He lives.
He will come.
He will find me.
“Tera!” Batumar’s enraged roar—closer now—swept through the battlefield, demanding, frightful enough to scare death itself away.
He lives.
He will come.
He will find me.
The heavy weight on my chest pressed me into the blood-soaked ground. I fought for each breath. My ears were ringing. When the stars began swirling in the sky, I closed my eyes.
The night wore on, men calling frantically, Batumar bellowing, urging them on, demanding more torches.
“Tera!”
Heavy footsteps neared at last, then the earth shook and armor rattled as Batumar fell onto his knees next to me.
The weight lifted from my chest. I tried to open my eyes, but found the Khergi soldier’s blood had crusted my eyelashes together.
“Tera!” Batumar howled like a wounded beast, brushing my matted hair out of my face, wiping blood from my skin. “No!”
He held me to his chest with one arm while he searched me for injury with his free hand, his movements urgent, feverishly so, but so gentle. His great body shook as he kissed my forehead, my eyes, my lips, his kiss tasting of blood and sweat and tears. “You will not leave me,” he whispered hoarsely against my mouth.
Hot tears flooded my eyes, and I could open them at last. I could see little in the dark, but I could see Batumar’s eyes, squeezed shut in grief. I drew my first full breath, but I did not think he could feel the rising of my chest through his armor. So I moved my lips against his.
He drew back with a ragged gasp, searching my face. “Tera,” he whispered with wonder. “I thought--” He swallowed. “There is so much blood.”
“Not all of it mine,” I rasped the words weakly.
He gathered me back tighter against his chest and covered my face with kisses. “You live.”
I wanted him to never let me go. “We live.”
He gathered me into his arms and stood up, calling out to his soldiers to let them know he found me. Then he strode with me toward the city gate. “I thought you were safe in the city.” His chest heaved. “And then someone said—“
“You found me,” I whispered into his neck that was covered in dried blood and sweat. I did not care. We lived.
His arms around me were as strong and unmovable as a fortress, yet as gentle as a cradle.
“I will always find you,” he promised.
* * *
The Shahala healers gathered around me, but I forbade them to take my pain—they were much weakened already—so they treated my wounds with salves, but they did not use their powers. The Guardians arrived in the morning, but I would not let them further weaken their own spirits to help me. They had been much worn out by holding their protective wards over the Forgotten City for so many days. I did not think they could have held a day longer.
If we had not triumphed over the enemy when we did, all would have been lost.
But we did win.
Batumar scarce left my side as I convalesced in his bed. I asked him to give Pleasure Hall to the Shahala healers in my absence. The many chambers and the heated water of the pool could serve the injured. He agreed, and whenever he did leave for a short while, upon returning he always brought me news of the healings, and of the city.
“The refugees are returning to their villages. Our warriors tracked the last of the enemy who escaped the battle. They were put to the sword. The island is safe. The Gate is secured,” he said one night as he held me.
Yet I heard something in his tone that made me look up at him. “There is something else.”
“Lord Karnagh returned home with his men and tigers. He does not dare leave his own lands undefended long. Emperor Drakhart has other armies.” Batumar drew me closer. “I questioned some of the enemy soldiers we captured. Emperor Drakhar has bound to his service a sorcerer from the east. The Emperor will send more men against us. He cannot allow us to remain free. Word of our victory cannot spread over the world, and give hope to the conquered.”
Batumar was right. With everything I was, I sensed an even greater battle ahead. The journey that had brought us to this point had not been easy. And a long and dangerous road stood before us still. But as long as we were together, I could face anything.
“Do you think we will be attacked soon?” I asked.
Batumar thought for a moment. “No. The Kerghi lost their khan and a great number of men on our island. They will need time to build up their forces.” He paused. “But they
will
come again.”
At least, I was recovering. I
would
leave the bed and visit Pleasure Hall and the other healers tomorrow, I decided. However, like any wise woman, I would postpone the argument with Batumar over it until morning. For tonight… I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth, then ran my palm up the warm skin of his chest until my hand rested over his strong, steady heartbeat.
So Emperor Drakhar’s armies are still coming. Let them come and try to take what is mine. Let them perish.
Spirit, be strong. Heart, be brave.
--- THE END ---
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Hardstorm Saga Book 2, ACCIDENTAL SORCERESS, available in March 2015.
Titles in the Bestselling Broslin Creek Series:
DEATHWATCH
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DEATHSCAPE
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DEATHTRAP
, book 3
DEATHBLOW
, book 4
BROSLIN BRIDE
, book 5
DEATHWISH
, book 6
DEATHMARCH (coming soon)
DEATHTOLL (coming soon)
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