The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1) (26 page)

He cast a
scornful glance her direction. “What good did that do you?” he asked as he
brought his mare close. “I told you that you had no chance.”

“And I do not
believe in going obediently to slaughter,” she answered with a glare. “I am
afraid you will have to fight to take the life you want so much.”

His eyes were
full of contempt. “This will lead to nothing. You will still die. The peace
will still be destroyed.” Fenric drew his sword. “Come now and I swear I will
make it quick.” He glanced back toward the other riders and looked back. “Hold
out and I promise you I will let them do their duty, a duty they will find much
pleasure in.” He leaned closer. “They will make you beg for death before they
finally put a blade to you.” Fenric held out his hand. “These are your choices.
Choose.”

Ishar let go
of the gelding and the horse snorted and blew softly as it snuffled the ground
in search of food. She could feel the nothingness behind her. She watched as
Fenric smiled and slid off his horse waiting for her to come to him. Ishar
straightened her back and stared stiffly at him. She took a deep breath in
preparation. The look she cast him was one of derision. “There are always more
choices Fenric, even when we think none exist.” She turned and without
wavering, leapt from the cliff.

Fenric stared in disbelief at the vacant space
before him. “Ishar,” he screamed. He made his way along with the other riders
to the edge and looked down. All he saw was the churning of the waves.

One raider
spit onto the ground. “The bitch is dead. Good riddance.”

“Easy for you
to say,” another complained. “She was pretty. I looked forward to the next few
hours alone with her. Pity she had to die. She would have fetched a good number
of coins at market.”

Fenric
listened to their remarks with revulsion. He had little need for the loathsome
creatures except for the results they had helped produce. He turned as their
leader rode forward. He was the only one of the mounted Tourna who wore the
elaborate facial markings that signified status among them. The tattoos, which
covered most of his face, spoke of years of battle, of carnage, and marked him
as a man of standing.

The leader,
with dark black eyes, looked over the scene before them. He turned to Fenric.
“We will deal with retrieving the body from the water or beach below,” he said
stiffly. Fenric could tell by his tone that the Raider cared little for him but
he listened as the man continued, “You need to go and meet Ryen of the Haaldyn.
Tell him your reception by Varyk was not accommodating and you left for fear of
your life. Tell him you warned his daughter of the feeling of animosity you
felt from all in the holding but she would not heed your words. Tell him you
felt compelled to ride and warn him of a possible deception by this Varyk.” The
man leaned over and spat. He glanced up. “We will see that the body is placed
and let you know where it may be found. When you get to the holding and Varyk
is unable to produce his daughter, Ryen will begin to believe the truth you
have placed before him and when his daughter’s body is found, will declare war
on Varyk.”

“And the Lute?”
Fenric added softly.

The Raider
nodded. “We have a Raanan dagger. It, along with several Lute arrows, will be
found in her body. Have no worries, there will be no doubt. Just go,” he
ordered curtly with a wave of his hand. “We must make our way.”

Fenric nodded
and mounted his mare. He slapped the horse’s rear and animal broke into a quick
trot as he made his way through the opening and down the trail. Fenric smiled.
The future he wanted was all but achieved. He kicked the mare into a canter.

*

Ishar had
passed out after her struggle within the water. She could vaguely recall
pulling herself onto the beach, her fingers digging deep into sand as she
clawed her way out of the water. She had collapsed almost immediately. Although
her trip ashore had been difficult, it was not what surprised her. Her survival
after leaping from the high cliff far above the ocean and splashing deep into
the ocean had.

The moment
Ishar hit the water her body had plummeted downward. As soon as her descent
stopped, she had angled herself and lashed out with her feet to gain the
surface. Her lungs burned by the time she broke the top of the churning ocean
waters and by then the undercurrents had carried her dangerously close to the
rocks dotting the water. Seeing what had appeared to be sand off to her right
and she had begun her struggle to swim the distance.

It was yet
another determination of her will to survive. She tried not to think about
Fenric’s betrayal as she rose from the sandy ground. A sudden pain along her
side helped and Ishar blinked back tears as her breath caught. Her right arm
held her up while her other arm cradled her left side gingerly. Apparently she
had failed to escape the jump unscathed. Ishar raised herself until she was
kneeling on the sand. Her left side throbbed.

Ishar
attempted a breath. Her left side rippled with pain. She kept her breathing
light and shallow as she placed her right foot under her and rose. Both feet
took the weight, though her legs shook. Ishar glanced up warily. They would
come. They had no choice. To gather the body the Raiders and Fenric would seek
this beach and soon. She would have to be ready. Ishar glanced down at the
single dagger hung at her waist that had miraculously survived the fall with
her. She looked around and studied the best avenue for defense. There was only
one advantage. The Tourna would assume she had failed to survive the fall. They
would search the ocean and near the water before they considered anything else.
She needed to be ready. Ishar made her way toward the cover of rocks.

*

Traevyn
wondered at Lysandr’s raising of his hand for silence but said nothing. He and
all the other men waited to see what had disturbed their second-in-command. His
eyes widened when Lysandr gave the signal that someone was coming. The Raanan
warriors moved off the rocky trail they had been following into a shallow side
passageway and drew their swords in readiness. Traevyn doubted it was Ishar.
Why would she redouble back on her own tracks? He waited and watched calmly.
A moment later a man passed by, quietly nudging a mare along with
kicks from his feet.
Traevyn recognized him. It was the friend of
Ishar’s, Fenric, who had left the holding days earlier to seek out her father.
What was he doing here? Traevyn made a move to edge his horse forward. He
wanted to know the man’s business and what he knew of Ishar. Lysandr raised his
hand again for silence. The sound of an approaching rider made itself known.
The noise increased and Traevyn quickly realized it was more than a single
person moving along the trail and they apparently lacked any desire for
silence.

All waited in
the shadows of the small ravine as the riders drew by the opening and continued
down the slope toward the ocean. They were men dressed as Britai, but Traevyn
had never seen any Britai as organized as these, or so heavily armed. He tried
to note their faces and felt his body tense. Their front leader bore facial
markings he recognized all too well. These men were Tourna. Traevyn felt his
breath deepen in readiness for battle. He could sense the rage from the men but
all held to Lysandr’s raised hand of silence. It was several minutes after the
last one had past that Lysandr motioned for them to gather. Rayne slipped out
past him, without his horse, and begin to track their enemy back down the rocky
slope.

Ber, as
usual, was the first to talk. “Bastards,” he muttered, “And here on this
island.” He glanced at Lysandr.
“So.
The rumors are
true.”

Kagon nodded.
“Let us go and kill them.” Ber nodded his agreement.

“Wait,”
Davaris uttered solemnly. “We have followed Ishar’s trail. These men have
intersected it. What does it mean?”

Lysandr
sighed. “That we have found the men who Audris’ spied for and the people who
Ishar was sent toward.”

“Tourna?”
Gavin stated in disgust. “Even Audris cannot hate
that much.”

“What of the
Haaldyn?” Glyndwr noted with a frown. “Why was he here? Surely he did not pass
them by unnoticed and I doubt they would let him calmly ride on unless he was
allied with them in whatever evil they are intending.”

“Lutes and
Haaldyn working with the Tourna,” Ber said in disgust.

“Their
intention is Ishar’s death,” Davaris spoke solemnly.

“Then let us
see they do not achieve it,” Lysandr said with a nod.

“How do you
know they have not already done this very thing?” Kagon rumbled softly.

Lysandr shook
his head. “I did not see her body and they would not leave it. They would want
to use it as a prop to set into motion Ryen’s wrath. They need the body for
that purpose.”

“Then she still
lives.” Traevyn was relieved.

“I would
suggest we follow them,” Gavin said, “Perhaps this Fenric goes to meet and trap
her for the Tourna. She would trust his coming,” he added.

“As Eira
trusted Audris,” Glyndwr ground out.

“We ride,”
Lysandr spoke, motioning with his hands to move out, “but with care. We know
not about this course we take.” He glanced at Glyndwr. “Take Rayne’s horse and
lead him.” He looked toward the others. “Be on guard.” Lysandr nudged his horse
out onto the trail.

*

Ishar braced
her back against the rock and looked down the beach. She could see the
beginnings of a trail. It was from that direction her enemy would come. With
her left arm held close protecting her injured side she clasped the dagger
gripped tight in her right hand, and waited. It was not long before the clatter
of hooves reached her ears. Ishar flattened herself against the boulder behind
her. She knew the moment they entered the beach. The clump of hooves on rock
disappeared as the horses tried to find their footing in the loose brown sand.
Ishar could hear the jingle of their bridles and the creak of their movement in
the saddles as they came closer.

She eased
away from the boulder and stepped up on a smaller rock to look over the top
edge and judge the situation. The Tourna were spread out along the water’s
edge. The froth of the ocean lapped around the feet of their mounts. The men
studied the swelling surf. They were looking for her body, Ishar realized. She
narrowed her eyes in thought as she took a measured glance at the horses. She
realized if she could get one of their mounts she would have a chance, though
slim, to get away and try to slip into the mountains. The riders continued to
spread out farther along the lapping lip of seawater. A few dismounted, looking
among rocks dotting the ocean’s edge. One of the men close to her position
poked around the sandy edge before turning in her direction as he studied the
ground. Ishar studied his perusal. Had she covered her tracks well? She took a
quick breath, braced her body against the boulder and grimly waited. With many
friends close, this death would have to be quick and quiet.

The slide of
shoes upon rock drew her focus and Ishar trained her ears to detect his
presence. She had situated herself on a small ledge along one of several broken
paths among the high boulders. The raider studied the rocky terrain as he came
past a high rock and her position. Ishar waited breathlessly until he had
nearly passed, then leapt upon his back, legs wrapping tightly around his waist
as her right hand drove the dagger deep into his throat. Her side protested the
movement but her left hand reached up and covered the man’s slight moan. Then
there was only the sound of bubbles as air escaped through his torn throat. Her
added weight drove him to the ground and she lay there draped over the dead
body, gasping softly in the pain that each breath brought. She rose up and
stared with triumph over her find.

Strapped to
his back were a sword and a quiver full of arrows. His bow had been slung over
his head and arm. Ishar quickly removed the items and strapped them to her body
for defense. She kept the bow in hand. A fighting dagger she found was stuck in
one boot. Holding her side, she rose with a grimace and turned toward the open
beach. Compared to the numbers she faced Ishar knew the odds were still against
her, but with the weapons they would not find her such an easy kill. It might
give them pause. She heard a voice call out a name and wondered if the calls
were for their dead friend. Ishar flicked a glance down at the dead man, then
moved past him and made her way back toward the open beach, readying an arrow
as she went.

The men still
scoured the beach area and scanned the ocean. The dead man’s horse snuffed at
the sand and snorted, about ten feet away. Ishar frowned. The only exit from
the beach was still the path from which the Tourna had emerged and the men were
staggered inbetween. She sighed, torn and undecided. Choosing to mount and ride
out seemed certain death, but waiting for the raiders to find her within the
rocks could only end the same, and eventually they would. The disappearance of
their man would not go unnoticed for long.

Even as she
wavered, undecided, a lone Tourna raider rode up beside the riderless horse. He
glanced around. “Leeat,” he called out. With a scowl, he dismounted and made
his way toward the rocks. “Leeat,” he grumbled, “What have you found?”

Ishar slid
back until she had ample arm room and a chance of surprise. When he rounded the
corner, his eyes widened at the sight of her. “Me,” she said as she released
the arrow.

The arrow
struck with a thunk deep into the man’s chest. He gave a slight yell and then
fell back dead. Ishar cursed and made her way past him toward the beach. There
was no way some had not heard his cry. At the very least she now had more
weapons.

Sure enough
two riders were heading in her direction when Ishar made her presence known.
Notching an arrow she quickly let it fly in the direction of the nearest Tourna
who screamed as it pierced his left shoulder. She quickly readied another arrow
as the rest of the Tourna turned toward the sound. She let the second arrow fly
and watched as it struck solid. A raider fell back backward off his saddle
without a sound and hit the sand with a thud. There were still over fifteen
Tourna left whose attention was now focused on her. Ishar snatched another
arrow and waited for them to close the distance.

A roar
pierced the air and Ishar watched as the Tourna turned toward it. Eight Raanan
warriors poured out of the path and onto the beach. They lined themselves up
for combat. Ber refused to wait for an invitation. He charged his horse toward
the nearest Tourna with another roar and a raised sword. Kagon joined him. The
Tourna, faced with this sudden threat, turned to engage and for the moment
Ishar was left unchallenged. She eyed the Raanans with desperation.
Just what she needed.
Another enemy to
fight.
How had they found her so quickly? In desperation, she groaned at
her misfortune. Perhaps her fortunes would turn. Maybe they would all kill one
another. She could only hope. Ishar sighed as she sought an avenue of escape.
At least in the unfolding turmoil she might have a chance to slip away. She
eyed the mount snuffling the ground nervously toward the water’s edge. Ishar
skirted the large rocks and moved onto the sandy beach. An arrow thunked
against the rock near her head and she dropped, catching sight of a Tourna in
the process of arming his bow again. Apparently they were not completely
without disregard to her position. She slid down behind a small boulder and
brought her bow up to bear.