Rise of the Shadow Warriors (6 page)

Chapter 9

Argan wiped the sweat from his brow and took a minute to get his breathing under control. The warrior he worked with bent over at the waist, his sword held limply in his quivering arm.

“This is how the Overlord trains each day?” Samil gasped out. The weeks of his training were telling. Time here had added muscle and bulk to his frame.

“Yes.” Inside, Argan smiled at the warrior’s pained expression. Training with Vaan meant early mornings and very late nights unless he spotted Mikayla outside. Then his best friend would end training abruptly, no matter who he was in the middle of battling. Without comment to anyone Vaan would hurry her to the bedroom they shared, leaving no doubt as to what they did once there.

Argan and the other Warlords were used to this, leaving it to Kavan and Balal to keep Mikayla distracted
inside
when necessary. Like today. Argan glanced around and noted that the other two warriors who had come with him to Raasa were in the same condition as Samil. Out of breath and tired, yet mentally and physically better equipped than weeks ago when they arrived.

Vaan’s brother, Saran, worked hard to get the Kabanian warriors back into fighting condition after the years spent under Thenl’s rule but nothing compared to the intensity of the Overlord’s methods. Argan turned back to Samil who had managed to straighten and grip his sword tightly.

“How is it going, Warlord?” A deep voice commanded from behind.

Speaking of the Overlord
.

Argan waited until Vaan stood beside him before waving at Samil. “The warrior here wondered if you train like this each day.”

Vaan grunted and by Samil’s paling features, Argan bet his friend had also added a harsh stare to accompany the sound.

“Do you find my training lacking, Samil?”

The casually asked question was couched in dulcet tones. Argan sheathed his sword and folded his arms to see how the warrior would answer.

“No, Overlord.”

“Then perhaps you think it is too hard.”

Samil paled further and Argan smothered a laugh.

“No, Overlord.”

“What concerns you regarding my training? I am ever eager to listen.”

Samil stiffened, his jaw working. “I am proud to have been selected to train with you and your loyal Warlords. All of Kaban is grateful for your return.”

Silence. Argan glanced over his shoulder. Vaan tapped a finger against his chin then nodded. “You wish to attain Warlord status, yes?”

Argan turned back in time to see Samil’s brown eyes widen. The warrior practically fell in his haste to drop to one knee, bowing to Vaan. “It would be an honor, my Overlord.”

“Then it is done.”

Samil’s head snapped up.

Vaan smiled. “You and the others have made me proud. Tonight we celebrate,
Warlord
Samil and tomorrow you and the others return to Kaban where my brother will assign a contingent of warriors under your command.”

Samil jumped to his feet to babble his gratitude but Vaan turned away mid-thanks.

Argan hurried to catch his friend. “You do know he almost pissed himself, yes?”

Vaan smirked and spared Argan a look. “It is why I chose the moment to tell him my decision.”

Argan grinned in return. “Saran will be pleased.”

“It is good to be Overlord.”

Argan could only shake his head. He started to ask about the celebration plans when Vaan came to a complete halt. Argan paused as well, trying to see what had caught his friend’s attention so suddenly.

Mikayla walked toward them, wearing an ankle length dress of pale green. The short sleeves left her golden arms bare. She came down the outer stairs slowly, making a direct path toward them.

Argan actually heard Vaan’s breath quicken. He looked between his Overlord and the woman who held his heart. Neither had eyes for anyone else. When Mikayla reached them, she stretched up on her toes to kiss Vaan on the chin.

Vaan gripped her waist and lifted her high enough to mash his lips to hers. Argan flinched. Mikayla’s people were capable of poisoning their enemy with the deadly venom produced in their mouths yet his friend never hesitated in returning her affection with the strange method called kissing.

When they parted, Mikayla beamed a bright smile, showing tiny fangs then patted Vaan on the chest before facing Argan. “All is well?”

Vaan lowered her to her feet but kept one hand at her waist.

Argan nodded. “The training has gone well and the warriors will return to Kaban soon.”

Her green eyes brightened and Argan knew she truly was excited. Anything that Vaan wanted, she supported. Love blazed from her diamond shaped eyes as she sought her mate’s gaze. “You’re pleased?”

“I am.”

Even his friend’s tone changed when he spoke with the tiny Raasa female. The harsh commands he used with all around him gentled in her presence. Did Vaan realize he did that?

Their joining had been one of convenience but love had grown between them. Vaan stroked a hand down his mate’s cheek and she leaned into the touch. Envy pierced Argan’s heart, forcing him to turn away.

A brief glimpse of red hair and silver eyes flashed across his mind. Olak’din. Shaina belonged to an ancient race but Argan knew nothing of how they made their decisions regarding partners. Would she love as fiercely as the Raasa?

“Where are our youngling?” Vaan’s voice rose in question.

“Balal is helping Assa feed them. Kavan chose to rest but I believe he hides from the girls.”

Vaan chuckled. Kavan and Balal spent the most time with the youngling since they were assigned to guard Mikayla. Neither had any more experience than the rest of the Warlords with youngling and often succumbed to whatever demands Erana and Arane voiced. Making matters harder was their new found ability to walk.

“Come with me to the stables while Balal has them in his care.”

Spots of red appeared on Mikayla’s cheeks. “Vaan!”

But he already had a firm hold of her hand as he dragged her away without a goodbye for Argan. Several Warlords and Raasa watched the pair make their way across the compound yet none dared interrupt their purposeful strides. Tolan opened the gate when they were close.

Argan faced the men. “We are done for the day.”

He ignored their relieved looks. The heat of the Raasa sun was in full effect thus the reason Argan decided to end the session early. Never would any of them adjust to this year-round hot clime that offered no relief except when the breeze stirred beneath the dark of the moon.

Ramar came up on his side as he walked toward the home they all shared. “The men are putting together a game of Dilek. Will you join us?”

Argan glanced over his shoulder. Marek and Carog were placing wagers in anticipation of the cubed game. Facing forward, Argan shook his head. “Not this even tide. I am tired.”

Tired? Had he just admitted such to his brethren? Ramar made no effort to mask his surprise but the Warlord offered a brief nod and turned back to the others. Argan continued on alone and went straight to his room, barely acknowledging anyone in the main hall who spoke to him. In the privacy of his room, he closed and locked the door.

With nothing to distract his mind, his thoughts went to the woman. Shaina. Her name had an instant effect on him and his toqa stiffened. Possessive hunger crowded his senses. He conjured a vision of red hair spread about his pillow, her body bare beneath him as he moved over her seeking his release.

Argan groaned aloud, his hand going to his toqa and rubbed the length firmly. The pressure did nothing to ease his pain. He thought of silver eyes that glowed and arousal surged up his back. Argan found himself thrusting into his working fingers. It wasn’t enough.

Unable to put into words his desires, Argan lowered his leathers and hissed at the contact of his bare hand on his hardened shaft. His first strokes were rough as he leaned back against the door and gasped harshly.

Would she lay quietly beneath him while he pleasured himself? It’s what a Kabanian woman would do but Vaan had once shared that Raasa female were not like that and took an active part in bed play. Argan imagined Shaina’s lithe body writhing while he pumped into her wet depths. He jerked against his tight fist. Moisture leaked from his tip dampening his palm and increasing the sensation of being deep within a woman’s toque.

The feelings were too much and his release hit all too soon. Hoarse cries poured forth as he firmed his hand on the final down stroke and spilled. Panting, Argan tried to slow his racing heart. When his breathing evened out, he yanked his leathers up and walked to the small table by his bed and the waiting pitcher of water. He rinsed his hand efficiently and dried it on the small white cloth folded neatly next to the pitcher.

The next time their paths crossed, he would not let her leave until they resolved the debt he owed her and she explained her definition of
needing
him.

Chapter 10

“You missed.”

Shaina elbowed Justan hard in the side at the taunt. “Only because you distracted me.” She pulled on the handle until her knife came out of the tree with a thunk.

Justan hummed under his breath and plucked his own knife from the bright red fruit now dripping its pink juice onto the forest floor.

“A true warrior,” he quoted, “does not allow distraction to ruin
his
aim.” When he tipped his knuckles up to blow on them before wiping imaginary dust off his leather vest, Shaina shoved him once more.

“Unless
he
is cheating.”

Justan laughed and pointed at the row of fruit pinned to the spindle base of the tree trunk. “We can try again. I’m always open to my Queen owing me favors.”

Shaina glared. She didn’t owe him any favors. “This was for fun not wagers, remember?”

Justan feigned a gasp, planted a hand on his chest and staggered back in disbelief. “Truly you wound me.”

“I’d like to,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s that?” He arched a brow in her direction all the while smirking.

Tempted beyond her control, Shaina tossed her knife at him and chuckled when he caught it in the air by the hilt.

Blue eyes twinkling, Justan smiled smugly and handed it back.

Shaina accepted her favorite blade and shook her head. “One day you’re going to practice that trick and catch the sharp end.”

Broad shoulders shrugged. “You’ve been throwing knives at my face since we were children. I learned out of self-defense.”

True. Although the only reason Shaina started was because he liked to tease her mercilessly. Shaina planted a remorseful expression on her face. “I’m sorry, Justan.”

He snorted and roughly ran a hand over her hair, dislodging the tail she’d swept her hair in. Shaina leaped away. “Stop it, fool.”

“Then quit stalling and tell me how your visit to the Warlord went.”

Shaina grabbed the basket they’d brought with them and pulled the pome fruit from the tree one by one filling the woven bag. She chose a large grass covered rock as her seat and selected the largest pome from the top to bite.

“Shaina.”

Huffing a sigh, she glared over her shoulder at Justan stalking behind her. The mulish set to his features warned that she wouldn’t be able to avoid this conversation.

“We did not get to speak much. Someone interrupted before I could ask for his assistance.”

Justan nodded. “What do you plan to ask? For Kaban to be our allies against the Gornan?”

He had the right thought but Shaina needed more than an alliance to stall Ivak and the Gornan. Tonight, she would attempt to visit Argan again. The grumbles grew louder each day and Shaina knew it wouldn’t be long before Ivak tried to force her hand. She couldn’t afford to be caught unprepared, which meant she had…no
needed
to secure Argan’s agreement to her wishes.

“Do you ever wonder if things were different?” She asked instead.

Justan dropped to the ground beside her and snatched a pome from the basket. He tossed it in the air and caught it before taking a hearty bite. “Like what things?”

Savoring the fruit, Shaina closed her eyes and leaned back. “If my parents hadn’t died. If I wasn’t the Shadow Queen.”

She opened her eyes to see how he was taking her words and jolted from the way he watched her. “Justan?”

“If you weren’t the Shadow Queen what would you do different?”

No need to pause or think. “I’d fall in love, marry and have babies. Lots and lots of babies.”

Shaina waited to hear his response. Would he find her dreams foolish? Or think her crazy? If he laughed, she’d hit him over the head.

Justan finished his fruit and sat the core by his leg. “Who would you have these dozens of babies with?”

Shaina snorted and bit into her pome. “I didn’t say dozens.”

“Lots and lots imply a large number.”

She kicked out with her foot and made contact with his thigh. Justan rolled away and this time his laughter rang out. “Enough. You can settle on a number later. Who is this lucky man that you would have as husband?”

Pursing her lips, Shaina drew her legs up on the rock and wrapped her arms around her limbs. She used her knees to balance her chin. If she said the name of the warrior on her thoughts, he would only think her more foolish. Unfortunately, Warlord Argan stayed on her mind and was the only man she wanted.

Justan stretched out on his stomach, elbows braced on the ground in order to face her while he awaited an answer.

“I don’t have anyone in mind.” The lie was the best response in this situation.

He grunted and tipped his head back to study the blue skies above. “Would he be Olak’din?”

“No.”

At her instant denial, his head snapped down.

Shaina met his stare evenly. None of the men of her people interested her.

“So you would bring an outsider among us?”

Annoyance vibrated in his tone and Shaina responded in kind by jumping to her feet. She grabbed the basket. “It doesn’t matter since I
am
Queen and I
will
marry but it probably won’t involve love.” It would be an alliance for her people.

She stormed off and the scramble behind her warned that he followed. “Shaina!”

Hurrying, she ignored his shout and pretended to focus on the rock strewn path. Justan said nothing when he caught up with her as they made their way down the winding hill toward the vast caverns which made their home.

The entrance to the caverns came into view. Alin stood at the mouth of the dark archway. He was young but Shaina trusted the dark haired youth’s senses to pick up if Gornan approached. He’d proved in mock battles to be a stealthy fighter and many of her younger warriors looked up to him.

Alin smiled and called out, “Welcome back, my Queen.”

“How long are you on duty this afternoon, Alin?”

His expression brightened. “Luka relieves me soon.”

Shaina patted his arm as she and Justan passed him to enter. “I’m in need of a sparring partner for this evening. Come search me out.”

He fairly vibrated with pleasure. “Yes, my Queen.”

Justan snorted behind her but Shaina ignored him as they traveled the well-lit path down the main corridor.

“You do know he believes he has a chance with you?”

“He’s still young,” she countered. “All women are sexual beings to him.”

“He’s only a year younger than me. Are you saying that is too young to know your heart?”

The weird tone in Justan’s voice finally caught her attention. She faced him but he kept his gaze straight ahead. “What’s gotten into you lately?”

He bumped her shoulder with his own, tripping her up. The odd mood faded. “Nothing. Just asking a question.”

“Well don’t. Alin is good as a sparring partner. You and I know each other too well in battle for it to truly challenge me.”

Glow stones imbedded in the wall added enough light for them to make their way through the numerous tunnels that led to private family rooms, common meeting areas, and the communal dining hall. When Shaina turned to the left at the apex of the tunnel Justan followed. Sighing, she tilted her head up. “Why exactly are you following me?”

His private living space was on the opposite end of the caverns and a good fifteen minutes away if one walked briskly.

“We need to talk.”

Shaina rolled her eyes at his dire tone. Sometimes his protective streak pushed her too far and he forgot she was Queen. “I’m not in the mood for this, Justan.”

In her private quarters, he gripped her forearm tightly when she sought to brush by. “Shaina, this is no jest. You’re in a dangerous situation.”

She whirled around, feeling her eyes begin to burn with her power. “You think I don’t know this? I’m the last of the royal line. My father trusted me to care for our people and yet…” she choked and forced back the ball of nerves in her belly. “And yet I worry for fear that I will fail. Do you think the Gornan care? They are waiting and bidding their time, Justan. When they launch another attack, they plan to kill us once and for all.”

During her speech, he paled and released her. “It’s that bad?”

“I’ve studied them. Each attack over the last year has shown them getting bolder, more daring. They’re escalating.”

“Tell me how you think the Warlord can help. At least let me know so that I may assist.”

Shaina sighed and yanked on the binding until her hair fell about her shoulders. “I’m going to ask for the Raasa and Kabanian to be our allies in order to defeat the Gornan so we can all live in peace.”

His dark head nodded. “And this is the debt you will claim?”

No. Because despite saving his life, Shaina wasn’t sure the warrior known as the Death Dealer could convince the Overlord to agree to an alliance that would not truly benefit him. What would he need with one hundred warriors who refused to leave their homes in the caverns?

“Shaina?”

“It’s not enough. Argan must pledge himself to me. If he’s with us, I believe the Overlord would concede to the alliance.” She was determined to gain their help by any means necessary.

Silence, then a low rumble as Justan closed the distance between them to shake her. “You’re mad.”

She slapped at his chest and broke his hold. “No, I’m not. It will work.” It had to.

“It’s a foolish idea.”

“It gets Ivak off my back about a husband and we get protection in our fight against the Gornan.”

Justan snarled and stuck his hands in his hair. “And this Warlord will be content to
what
? Visit occasionally? Live separate from an unwanted wife he’ll never see?”

He was right. What man would want that? She could never leave her people and an outsider wouldn’t be openly welcomed. And even if he was, Shaina couldn’t imagine Argan leaving a man he fought side by side with for years for a wife he didn’t want.

Shaina closed her eyes as determination filled her. Her hands fisted into knots at her sides when she met Justan’s troubled blue eyed stare. “I’m willing to beg him to help us, Justan.”

This time when her friend touched her, it was to enfold her in a warm hug. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “He would be a fool to refuse.”