Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1) (14 page)

A flicker of movement to his left among the trees caught his eye. Crouching low, he curled his hand around the hilt of his dagger. A young man, his dark hair twisted into multiple braids and dressed in brown, stepped out from behind a tree. Violet eyes met his—hard, knowledgeable, older than his seventeen years of age.

Varian relaxed and rose to his full height. “What are you doing here, Zaune?”

The youth was one of his best scouts, a fierce fighter and a loner, like himself, which probably accounted for why he liked the youth so much.

“Lisella sent me. She’s called a halt.”

He grunted. “She did, did she?”

“You’ve been pushing the group hard, Varian. It’s difficult for them to travel quietly and at the pace you’ve set. They’ve managed but they’re worn out.”

Varian raked a hand through his hair and tamped down his frustration. “The Light Blade’s escape has been discovered. I’ve spotted three Patrols in the last two hours. We need to get across the river into human territory.”

“Tired people make mistakes.”

He rubbed his jaw, felt the hard ridge of flesh where his scar intersected it. “How many?”

“Seven, all children.”

Zaune also looked drawn, although he doubted the
Na’Chi
would admit to any weakness. They’d all learned to be tough, had to, in order to survive.

He motioned to the tracks on the ground. “They’re only a day ahead of us. We can’t afford to fall any farther behind, not when we have to travel downstream in order to cross safely where the river narrows.”

He wasn’t telling the scout anything he didn’t already know. Zaune waited patiently for his orders.

“Pull five of our scouts off duty. Get them and two other adults within the group to carry the children. We need a few hours’ distance between us and that last Patrol before we stop for the night.”

Zaune nodded. “Lisella won’t like it.”

“She’s not in charge.” His gaze narrowed. “Remind her of that, and if she doesn’t like it, tell her to take it up with me tonight. Get the group moving.”

He was pleased at how quickly the scout blended in with the dappled shadows of the forest and was gone. His thoughts turned to Lisella. The safety of forty-seven individuals weighed heavily enough on him and those he’d trained as scouts without her countermanding his orders. Headstrong and stubborn, he wondered if the young
Na’Chi
woman realized the danger she was placing them all in.

Zaune would make sure the group moved on. His lips thinned. Lisella needed to realize that this journey wasn’t going to be like living at the compound. Debating every decision wasn’t an option. For the moment their survival depended on everyone following his orders, no questions asked.

ANNIKA stood by the open doorway of the small barn, the hood of her cloak pulled well over her head as Kalan negotiated with the farmer for a night’s shelter and food. The man glanced over his shoulder at the young, pregnant woman watching them from near the small hut where she was sitting, mending clothes. Dressed simply, both reminded her of the farmers who visited Whitewater Crossing in the harvest season to trade with Vash.

“With Lessie’s time due I could use a hand with a few chores.” The farmer waved a calloused hand toward the hut. “The shutters on the windows need fixin’ afore the summer storms, ’n I ain’t had the chance to water the stock this evenin’. Lessie makes a good stew but we don’t have much, Light Blade…”

Kalan gripped the man’s upper arm. “Whatever you can spare is appreciated.”

Sighing softly, Annika placed her pouch on the ground at her feet, and gently rotated her healing shoulder, easing stiff muscles. They’d traveled hard and fast most of the day, avoiding the well-used trail from the ferry, knowing any
Na’Reish
Patrol would use it if they crossed the river in search of them. Instead Kalan had led her into the thick forest and they’d forged their own path along gullies and over hills.

“I’ll get the hammer ’n nails for you…” The man pointed to the well over by the stockyards. “The bucket’s over there ’n there’s hay in the barn.”

She waited until he’d started toward the hut before closing the distance between her and Kalan. “I’ll take care of the animals,” she murmured, expecting him to protest, astonished when he didn’t. She tested his scent, puzzled by the absence of acrid overtones that should have projected his suspicion and distrust. “I’ll wait in the barn when I’m finished.”

He nodded. “It shouldn’t take too long to repair the shutters.”

By the time she’d finished feeding and watering the animals, the sun was sinking behind the mountains. With the onset of evening came a cool breeze. Drawing a final bucket of water from the well, Annika took it and her pouch with her as she retreated inside the barn.

There was enough light to see as she looked around the interior. Clean straw covered the floor of the half-dozen stalls and the loft above. After placing the bucket on the ground, she headed for the middle one. Straw was an improvement to spending the night on the cold floor of a cave. It took a moment to spread out the blankets.

Grimacing at the grime on her hands, she unclasped her cloak as she returned to the bucket to wash her hands and face. The water was ice cold but it felt good to be clean.

“Hello?” The female voice was hesitant. “Are you in here?”

Annika’s stomach lurched. Soft footfalls sounded behind her. Snatching up her cloak, she put it on, tugging the hood forward to conceal her face. Heart pounding, she scrambled to her feet as the farmer’s wife appeared inside the entryway of the barn, holding a lantern and carrying a bag over one shoulder.

The woman lifted the lantern higher, throwing the light farther into the barn. “Hello?”

“I’m here.”

“I’m sorry iffen I startled you.” She offered a small smile as she hung the lantern on a hook by the stall where she’d set up their blankets. “I’m Lessie ’n I’ve brought you some dinner.”

Annika stepped backward into the shadows. Thankfully the woman’s attention was on opening her bag. She set a lidded tureen, a hunk of bread, and a water flask down in the middle of the floor.

“It’s not much…”

The scent of an herb-laden stew filled the air.

“It smells delicious.
Lady
bless you and your husband for your kindness.”

The woman pushed back a handful of long, dark hair as she straightened. Surprise flitted across her face as she registered her location but she said nothing. “I overheard the Light Blade telling Stevar you helped him escape the demon’s fortress. ’Tis rare to hear of anyone doing that…”

“It wasn’t easy but, by the grace of the
Lady
, here we are.”

“Iffen I’m pryin’ jus’ tell me, but the only people I heard live there, ’sides the
Na’Reish
, are their slaves.” Lessie cocked her head to one side. “How is it you came to be in the fortress?”

“I was there to help heal Kalan.” What exactly had he told them? “The opportunity to escape arose, so we took it.”

“You’re a healer?” A hopeful smile broke over the woman’s face and she took a step closer. Annika tensed. “Would you have experience with birthin’?”

“Yes.” While she didn’t want the woman to see her, Annika couldn’t refuse to assist her. “Do you need my help?”

“Stevar took me to a healer a few months ago. Everything’s going well.” She gave a half shrug. “It’s jus’ my back aches almost every day…”

“How far along are you?”

“Eight months.”

“No bleeding or contractions? Are you on your feet a lot?”

“No, but Stevar needs my help ’round the farm.” A worried frown creased her brow. “Is there a problem?”

“I don’t think so.” There was only one way to make certain everything was all right. “May I touch you?”

“Go ahead.”

Keeping her gaze downcast, Annika stepped into the light. She moved behind the young woman and placed a hand on her lower back. Focusing her thoughts, she felt the familiar warmth of her Gift flow through her. Lessie’s pain was a nagging ache. A smile curved Annika’s lips as she also sensed the life-force of the baby. He was healthy and happy.

“Just as I suspected.” Annika rotated her hand gently, massaging the sore area. “You have muscle strain. Feel how I’m pressing my hand against you? Get Stevar to do this every morning and evening. It’ll bring relief to your back muscles.” She stepped around Lessie to find her pouch. Kneeling, she rifled through it and brought out a small bag. “A pinch of these herbs steeped as a tea will help ease the pain during the day.”

“I don’t have nothin’ to trade for them—”

“I’m not expecting payment.” Annika pressed the bag into the woman’s hands and closed her fingers around it. “You’ve shown kindness to complete strangers. Thank you.”

After a moment’s hesitation the young woman nodded and tucked the bag into her dress pocket. “Will you tell me your name?”

“Annika.”

“It’s been a while since I had ’nuther woman to talk to, Annika. P’haps after dinner you might like to sit awhile with me?”

Annika fisted a hand in her cloak. There was such longing in Lessie’s tone of voice, but the woman thought she was human. If Lessie ever discovered exactly what Annika was, she’d be appalled by her assumption. Following that would come the revulsion and denial of any offered friendship.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Annika glanced toward the barn doorway. Where was Kalan?

“Is there somethin’ wrong?”

Annika hesitated. “No. I’m just… not used to this sort of situation.”

“What situation?”

“Slaves were punished for talking.”

“Did the
Na’Reish
also make you wear the cloak?”

“I have… marks… on my face I’d rather others didn’t see.” She didn’t want to lie to the woman. “My looks offended the
Na’Reish
.” A partial truth;
Lady
forgive her.

Lessie bit her lip. “I’m sorry iffen I made you uncomfortable.”

A familiar, broad shouldered figure appeared in the doorway.

“Annika?”

Kalan’s deep voice sent a wave of relief washing through her. She sighed. His brows dipped low as his dark green eyes flickered from Lessie to her, direct, measuring. The irony of preferring his company as opposed to Lessie’s didn’t escape her.

“We were just talking.” Her reassurance eased the intensity of his gaze but the tightness around his mouth didn’t lessen. Did he think she’d hurt a pregnant woman? Annika closed her pouch and stood. “I appreciate the invitation, Lessie, but I’m tired from our traveling. Thank you again for the food.”

The young woman ran a hand over her rounded stomach, a disappointed smile on her face. “I guess Stevar’ll be wantin’ his dinner now that the chores are done.” She patted her pocket. “Thank you for the herbs. I’ll leave you the lantern. Sleep well.”

Kalan shut the door after she’d left. “I didn’t realize she’d headed over here to deliver the meal. Are you all right?”

She fumbled with the tie on her pouch and shot him a sideways glance. He’d been worried about her? Odd behavior considering his cold response to her at Whitewater Crossing. A flash of astonished pleasure raced through her anyway. She dipped her head to cover her confusion.

“I’m fine.” Discarding the cloak, she lifted the lid on the tureen. Her mouth watered with the appetizing odor wafting out from underneath it. “Lessie believes I’m a slave from the fortress.”

“I warned Stevar about the possibility of
Na’Hord
Patrols hunting for us this side of the border.” He snatched a rag hanging in one of the stalls and crouched by the bucket. “Start eating while the meal is hot. I’ll wash up.”

He pulled off his shirt and set it aside. Annika froze, unprepared for the sight of his ridged abdomen and the play of muscles rippling across his naked chest. Sharp prickles of awareness stabbed the pit of her stomach. He was all solid muscle, lean and hard.

The urge to reach out and touch the hard plane of his shoulders, to smooth away the droplets of water sparkling there was so strong Annika had to clamp her fingers around the lid of the tureen to stop herself from doing just that.

A shiver rippled along her spine. He was off-limits to someone like her. She was something no one in his world could ever love. The bitter truth writhed inside her and constricted around her heart. She dropped her gaze, disappointment aching in her chest, but couldn’t stop watching him from the corner of her eye.

Na’Reish control their emotions.
Savyr’s harsh voice echoed deep in her mind.
Your mother’s blood betrays your weakness time and again.
Shame burned her cheeks. She pushed it back, angry at her ingrained response.

How many times had she endured a beating for revealing her emotions? Her back twinged with the memories. She counted every time he’d given up whipping her as a victory, every scar as a testament to just how strong she was, despite his belief to the contrary.

Suppressing the vivid encounters, she cleared her throat. “Do you think a Patrol will come this far into human territory?”

“They have before.” Kalan’s muscles flexed as he used the rag to dry himself. He raked a wet hand through his hair then slipped his shirt on. Disappointment of a different kind elicited a soft sigh from her. He inhaled deeply. “Whatever Lessie made smells good.”

Tearing the bread, she handed him half as he joined her on the ground beside the tureen. They ate the small but simple meal in silence, scooping up the stew with chunks of bread and sharing the flask of water. Annika was glad for the silence as it gave her the op-portunity to restrain her unruly emotions and bury her desires deep.

A wry smile twitched the corners of her lips. Her father’s lessons in discipline and control had finally proven valuable.

Chapter 9