Warlords Rising (36 page)

Tentatively, she reached out, and with her sleeves wiped at
his cheeks. The maternal gesture nearly broke what little hold he had on his
sanity. Throat tight, words strangling, he still managed somehow to choke out,
“I am so sorry.”

She shook her head, a sad smile on her face. “Thank you.”
Reaching out, she drew her own little boy into her side, and he clung to her
with an iron grip. “We survived, thanks to you.”

Trev’nor wondered if her opinion would change when she
learned that they had known they would lose people by taking this place and
chosen to forge ahead regardless.

“Trev.”

He looked up and found Nolan with a child on each hip,
others clustered around him. The sight wasn’t surprising. Nolan drew children
to him as well as animals. Young magicians especially liked being around him.
Life Mages just had that effect on the world. “Trev, let’s get them out of
here. I checked with Ehsan, and he said that there isn’t any fighting left
below the tower. The fight at the main gate has just started. The hard part is
over, I think. We’ve basically won.”

Then why did this feel like a loss? Trev’nor forced himself
up to his feet, drawing both mother and child up with him. “Let’s explain a few
things before we go down.”

“That’s wise.” Nolan turned to the magicians and switched to
Khobuntish, explaining who they were and what they were doing here. There was a
rise in attitude as they realized they had just been freed and by other
magicians to boot. Learning they wouldn’t be a midnight snack to the hovering
dragons probably helped relieve the tension as well.

Most were willing to follow Nolan down, but a few lingered,
uncertain about leaving the bodies of their wives or husbands behind. To them,
Trev’nor assured, “This place is safe for now. No one will bother it. We will
bury tomorrow.”

Appeased, although with heavy hearts, they followed the rest
down the stairs.

Trev’nor hadn’t done much in the way of magic, and all told
this dreadful situation had played out with the span of two hours, so he
shouldn’t be exhausted. But every step felt like a mile, and it was all he
could do to keep balanced and upright as he took up the rear.

Becca and Commander Danyal used the dragons for
communication purposes. Llona and Garth were to tell Cat when it was time for
them to move, and until then, they hovered silently in the skies and waited.
Most of the dragons were set up in platoons so that they could ferry soldiers
to the gate in waves. It was the only way to get everyone inside Alred without
dragons landing on top of each other, or soldiers being accidentally crushed
from too many bodies trying to be in the same place at the same time. Becca had
gone over the deployment several times with each platoon to make sure that they
understood who would go in at what timing. 

The good commander did not seem at all comfortable hugging a
young, unmarried woman who was also his boss around the waist. Especially for
an indefinite amount of time. But it was the only way for him to keep a secure
perch on top of Cat, and since no one wanted to fall off a dragon, he kept his
arms securely around her. Becca could tell, though, from the way he shifted and
fidgeted that he felt extremely awkward.

Trying to help the man, she took advantage of the quiet air
to talk to him. “Do you have family, Commander?”

“I do, my Warlord. I have two sisters, nieces and nephews,
and my parents of course. Now that you have put us back on full pay, I hope to
save up enough to afford a bride.”

She blinked, trying to wrap her head around this, and
failed. “I’m sorry? Afford a bride?”

“Is this not your country’s custom as well?”

“Ah, no. Do explain.” Becca hoped that this wasn’t what it
sounded like, because if she learned men were buying women and forcing them
into marriage, she was going to change her mind and burn the whole country
down.

“A man must offer his bride-to-be gifts and an assurance
that he can provide for her. Her parents will not let him marry unless he can
afford to pay for the wedding and buy a house.”

Ohhh.
That
kind of afford. She let out a subtle
breath of relief. “Actually, in Chahir, the bridge and groom share wedding
expenses. The parents do prefer the man have a stable income, though, that’s
not different. If you don’t mind my asking, how much would it take?”

“It ranges, depending on the class, but for me I think I
need about 80 ghani.”

Becca did the conversion in her head and let out a low
whistle. “That’s a significant amount of money.”

“Fortunately a man only needs to marry once,” he chuckled.
“The men that can afford to marry again after losing a wife, them I do not
understand. They are more wealthy than a poor soldier like me.”

From what she understood of this culture, Danyal was
actually overdue by about five years to find a nice girl and get married. She’d
grown rather fond of the man by this point and so wanted to help him reach this
personal goal. Perhaps she could find a way to get all of the soldiers’ back
pay to them? That would help him, surely. She made a mental note to investigate
after they got back to Trexler. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

“No, but there is a good matchmaker in—”

Cat let out a roar and abruptly dove for the town below
them. Becca didn’t try to shout out stupid questions, it was obviously their
turn to fight. She hung on and let Cat do the flying as she called on the storm
overhead, bringing lightning out and blasting the main gates open. The wooden
gates splintered in smoldering pieces and blew apart into every direction.
Becca kept the impact low enough that it would do the job without flinging
giant splinters at the dragons. No need to risk injury before they had to.

With a harsh backflap of the wings, Cat gave her the
roughest landing ever, more intent on speed than technique. Becca did not
complain, simply gave Danyal a hand down before leaping off herself. With a pat
on Cat’s neck, she sent the dragon airborne again. It was the dragons’ task to
shuttle soldiers in and to find the pockets of resistance or any other
potential trouble in the air and relay it to her. Or take care of it
themselves. She’d given them the autonomy to do whatever their judgement
dictated.

Their soldiers charged through the ruined gate, Danyal in
the lead. She kept up with them effortlessly, her eyes peeled for any target
that would require a magical attack even as she kept a sword in her hand. She
wouldn’t use magic before she had to. It was too densely crowded in here, no
matter how precise her lightning strikes, she risked hitting friend rather than
foe. Besides, they had learned their lesson and tried to keep structural damage
to a minimum. Trev’nor could only rebuild so much.

Training kicked in as her adrenaline started pumping.
Becca’s heartbeat was a wardrum in her ears as she fought her way through,
spinning, slashing, using little jolts of lightning like arrows. Under
flickering torchlight, in the dead of night, the lighting in the streets was
beyond abysmal. She was extremely grateful that the soldiers here wore a dark
brown uniform and not a light tan as it would have been very easy to mix up
friend and foe in these conditions.

Sweat trickled down her temples and back, and she was
breathing hard in the cool air, but fighting in battles now felt almost
familiar. It was not as terrifying as it had been the first two times. She
fought to protect herself, to protect her men, and to protect the ones that
were helpless against these whoresons. It came down to might of arms, her
training against theirs, and they were good. Seasoned, experienced, well
trained.

But Becca had been trained by the very best.

Blood and sweat was strong in the air, mixed in with the
dust they had stirred up, and she almost choked on it. Two men blocked her
path, and she went for them with cold calculation, only to stop abruptly when
they were taken down by Danyal and another soldier she knew by face, but not by
name.

Beyond them, it was clear and she blinked in bemusement.
“That was it?”

“For the main gate,” Danyal confirmed.

Surely not. “I gathered the impression we fought through
roughly a hundred men. Surely that isn’t all of them.”

“That’s the count I got as well, my Warlord.” Danyal cast an
uncertain glance further down the street. “That’s what worries me.”

It suddenly worried her, too. “You think the rest of the
streets are a trap?”

“We’ll either be ambushed, or…” his face fell into grim
lines, mouth flattening, “worse, they’re doing something we don’t want them to
do.”

An uncertain, yawning pit formed in her stomach. “I don’t
like either of those options.” Raising a mirror to her face, she called, “Azin,
Ehsan, someone respond.”

A female voice came through, light and a little breathless.
“
This is Azin
.”

“You were with Nolan, right? Is he still there?”

“
No, he left to help Trev’nor. There were wounded people
at the top of the tower.”

Becca took in the news with a pang in her chest. Hopefully
Nolan would be able to save them, although she was too practical to think he
could save them all. “Is there a dragon near you?”

“Yes, several. Why?”

“Ask them to search for me. We didn’t fight as many enemies
at the gate as we should have. There must be more soldiers in the town.”

“I’ll ask. Hold on.”
There was a muted flurry of
questions, a deep voice rumbling out answers, most of it too muddled for Becca
to pick out. Then Azin returned. “
They said the town has people in the
houses, but they’re not soldiers. How can they tell, I don’t know, but they’re
very sure of this. They did say there’s a building further toward the center
that has a lot of people. Also a lot of blood. They’re not sure what that’s
about, though.”

Becca’s eyes flew to Danyal’s. The expression there told her
half of what she needed to know. “You know what they did, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” he said, quiet strain in his voice, “They will
take the strongest magicians and kill them rather than hand them over to an
enemy. I’m sorry, my Warlord. I did not think of that possibility before
because they had the slaves kept in two other places.”

A diversion. The watchtower and the cages on the far side of
town were only a diversion. It was to keep them from thinking that there might
be a third location with even more magicians at risk. She swore, hard and
viciously, which made every soldier around her blink. Either in awe that a
woman could swear like that, or in approval for her choice in words, she didn’t
know. Or care to find out. “Azin, tell the dragons to get there
now
. Do
not let anyone leave that building, and if there’re magicians alive, get them
out.”

Azin didn’t do more than a garbled acknowledgement before
the connection ended. Becca waved for the men to form up behind her and set off
at a ground-eating trot for the center of town.

After turning down two streets, she realized that she should
have asked for directions, but as it turned out, they weren’t that necessary.
Cat flew overhead and guided them in, then landed next to a building that was
literally crawling with dragons. It was a miracle that it didn’t collapse under
the weight.

Lined up next to one of the walls were all of the other
soldiers. Some dead and stacked up, others kneeling with their hands behind
their heads. The dragons had lost no time in taking them captive.

“Cat,” she called, “Status?”

“Magicians dead,” her dragon responded, the words
accompanied by a long, mournful tone that all of the dragons echoed.

No. Becca’s eyes closed under the weight of that
announcement. Her earlier feeling of misgiving came up to choke her and she
felt like throwing up. She fought down the urge. “These are the men who did
it?”

Those golden eyes narrowed as she stared at the prisoners.
“Yes. No like.”

“We’ll deal with them later, promise.” Becca felt like
hugging her, giving and taking some comfort, but the dragon was still draped on
top of the building.

On the faint hope that someone was still alive in there, she
felt like she had to check. If nothing else, she needed to verify what had
happened. She took three steps toward the door and was abruptly checked by
Danyal, who stood half in her path.

“I will go,” he volunteered quietly.

She opened her mouth on a denial, only to pause without a
sound emerging. The look in his eyes was one of worry for her, but also spoke
of hardened determination. She wanted to argue that as the leader of this
battle, it was her duty to see this through. In truth, she had no confidence
that she could walk in there and not lose the contents of her stomach. The
smell alone gave her trouble already.

Whether to help her maintain her dignity, or perhaps to
shield her from the horrors of battle, Danyal was volunteering to go in her
stead. His stance said he would not budge until she relented.

Rather than fight about something that she wasn’t sure she
could handle, she gave a slight nod. “Please do, Commander.”

Relieved he hadn’t gotten an argument, he snapped out a
salute, called three other men, and walked in. Becca took in a breath,
re-focusing on the immediate situation. “Sergeant Mose, let’s secure the
prisoners. Find me a place to put them.”

The grizzled veteran snapped out a salute before turning
sharply on his heel, barking out orders as he moved.

They could settle the living well enough, but what to do
with the dead? Becca felt like it was a bad idea to ask Trev’nor to bury any
bodies. He was likely at his limits already considering what he’d had to do
tonight.

Danyal was back before she could find an answer, and even in
this poor lighting, the man looked green around the gills. He stopped before
her, swallowed hard several times, as if fighting back bile. “No survivors, my
Warlord.”

Just how bad was it, when a man who had seen action for
nearly fifteen years looked like this? Becca was suddenly grateful that he’d
gone inside for her. She would have new fodder for nightmares if she’d bulled
ahead and not heeded his warning. “Thank you, Commander. We’ll set a detail
tomorrow for clearing the building and burying the dead.”

“I’ll see to it, my Warlord.”

Cat leaned her head down and informed her, “Trev’nor and
Nolan down.”

Relieved that she could put off any decisions for a few
minutes, she turned toward the tower. “Let’s go see how they fared.”