Born of Courage, page 8
Her fingers dug into her palms to keep from pummeling some sense into him.
“You may have forgotten everything you stood for, but I will defend them with my life, the same way I would anyone else here,” she shouted tensely, forgetting herself as she shook a finger vehemently at him.
“What has happened to you?” she spat at him, glaring damningly. “You are dismissed, Captain,” she snarled from behind clenched teeth.
Samuel straightened, years of discipline and training coming unbidden to the surface as he responded automatically to his rank, reigning himself back in. They stared at each other breathing heavily, her eyes narrowing in challenge at his refusal to leave.
“We’ll depart in the morning,” he ground out before storming from the room, taking with him the little bits of serenity Lil had left.
Dinner was a quiet affair of leftover breads and cheeses, thrown together with some soup someone had conjured up from whatever was available in the kitchen. Lillanya wasn’t really hungry and chose instead to wander the parapets, staring into the dark gloom of growing night. The stars had started to peep out from their daytime hiding spots, twinkling as they woke to be seen. Merrick patrolled the far side of the gate, having relieved Marcum from his day-long duties. Doubtfully done out of the kindness of keeping me company, she thought irked. Lil wandered the wall, pacing it back and forth in an attempt to work off her agitation.
Merrick watched her as much as the outside perimeter. He had trailed Samuel earlier to her room and heard them arguing, picking up bits and pieces from what Samuel had taught him. Merrick had slid into the shadows as Samuel stalked out, his anger and defiance showing brightly in his eyes as he headed for the hall. He could just see her around the door, her strong delicate hand gripping the back of a chair as she hung her head, breathing slowly, trying to gather herself. Suppressed tears being beaten back as she straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin. They had a history, of that, he was certain.
Samuel refused to speak of what was between them, casting long looks at the flames instead, a secret never to be shared. Merrick knew all about secrets, but he had traveled with these men and their families for over a year. What was with this enigma of a woman who surrounded herself with the outcasts of every family? he puzzled, watching her subversively from the other wall. His hair falling into his eyes as he watched a watcher.
Merrick was concentrating too hard on her and not enough on the shadows creeping from the stealth of night. Lil couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light or not. Her eyes strained on the forest edge trying to decipher any little movements, willing her power to help. Her eyes went out of focus, the gift of sight taking over.
Lil could feel them creeping from the brush, their lust for revenge swelling as they skulked towards her open gates, retribution leaking from their souls. Her eyes grew wide at the hate she felt and panic swelled in her chest. Lillanya blinked rapidly, drawing in a sharp breath as she shook herself from the vision. Her face snapped to Merrick’s in fear, warning him before springing towards the stairs and running to the main gates, jumping the remaining five feet in her haste to bar the doors. She slammed the full weight of her body into the panels, their solid mass groaning in resistance. Why didn’t she think to test these earlier?, her brain screamed at her in outrage. She pushed with everything she had, but it wasn’t moving fast enough.
Merrick appeared behind her to aid strength to her mission. His body steel and heat next to hers, warding off the cold ensnaring her from her vision. Together they forced the oak and iron barrier shut, just as an arrow whistled past her face, inches from the opening. Varus lifted a heavy beam effortlessly into the cradle, a job usually reserved for many to secure the doors together.
She pressed her head against it, giving thanks as a warning sounded from high on the wall, foretelling the arrows that thudded against the thick gate. Great!, she thought, sprinting back up to the ramparts, flanked by Merrick and Samuel, who had come running from the hall. They all took defensive positions, circumspectly peering over the edge at their attackers.
There were dozens of them. Men mostly wearing the colors of FireStarters, some not wearing armor at all. Bare from the waist up, bearing symbols they couldn’t make out, painted on their chests and arms. These weren’t just raiders, this was an army slithering up on her gates. She looked right at Samuel.
“We need to get archers on these walls,” she commanded. “Do you have anyone that can shoot?”
He stared hard at her, biting back a retort, his eyes glaring in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way. But he nodded all the same at some men gathering in the yard, ordering them to the high ground of the towers and following them down.
She looked over her shoulder and found Everett, waiting and watching. His stealthy arrival characteristic as always.
“We need to send up a flare, warn Rourke just in case, and see what we are dealing with. Can you do that?” she inquired, taking stock of the men and hoping she could come up with a plan for getting out of this.
Everett exchanged an assessing look with Merrick and turned, bolting for the sentry tower, aiming to take some cover for his task.
She pivoted back, looking at Merrick.
“We need to arm everyone else. There is an armory just inside the hall to the left.”
He stared at her blankly, trying to decipher too many Amerian words he didn’t understand.
“Armory” she said tersely in Amerian, pointing at his weapon and then the hall.
He muttered something as he made his way around her to the stairs.
It was probably a good thing that she didn’t know what it was. If we live through this, she thought to herself irately, I’m going to learn ten new words a day, starting with ‘help’ and ‘weapon’.
From the corner of the wall, bright balls of orange and blue streaked the sky. Everett rolled tight orbs of fire from his hands and hurtled them aloft, sending rays of light over the field. Two more orange and blue streaks lit up the sky from the opposite wall as Marcum followed Everett’s lead. The illuminated field was littered with men and arms, taking defensive positions along slopes and valleys, trying to stay to the shadows created from the firelight. One man stood alone in the middle, boldly staring up at them. His face shadowed by his scraggly black hair falling around lanky shoulders, but she could plainly see the massive double headed battle ax he wielded. The sight sending shivers down her spine. Lillanya glanced one more time at Everett, who was too far away to stop her, and popped up from behind the wall, making herself visible. Her spine ramrod straight.
“State your purpose,” she commanded with the voice of someone who had years of practice.
Her appearance didn’t seem to phase them though. The commander of the rag-tag army, if he could be called that, swayed with the breeze, his motions not quite stable for someone with such a pointed weapon. Was he drunk?
“Ooh, a lady.” He howled, lecherous delight in his voice. “Well we seek shelter, of course” he chuckled, “a warm meal, good company,” he paused, assessing his men, “won’t you let us in?” he drawled, his tone light, edged with just a touch of crazy that made her skin crawl.
“You’re trespassing and are not welcome on my lands,” her tone decisively uninviting. “Leave at once.”
They stared at each other, the tall man starting to swing his ax by the handle, bored with the conversation, his head jerking in her direction. Strong hands grabbed her vest, dragging her down behind the safety of the wall as a cloud of arrows rose arching high above them. Merrick pinning her beneath his body, one hand wrapped around a leather etched quiver, the other around a finely made long bow. She struggled beneath his weight, trying to free her arm, so she could extend it above her head as the feathered bolts soared over the wall. Her eyes turned red instinctively, power surging through her, creating a wall of heat and fire, amplified by Everett and Marcum, turning the arrows to ash that rained down on them instead of death.
She heard the laughter from over the wall. “Little girl, you alive up there?” he quipped. “This would go much easier if you just give us what we want.”
She waited for a breath. “And what’s that?” she shouted, not yet moving from beneath the safety that Merrick provided.
“Everything you own,” he hummed, his madness carrying through his words.
Everett came scurrying along the wall, his head tucked down as not to have it removed by stray arrows.
She shrugged Merrick off into a sitting position. The depth of the stone walls sure to stop anything the raiders could throw.
“Options?” she polled the men, looking at them in turn, but it was Everett who spoke first.
“I don’t know if we can hold out for Sorum. Those raiders will burn through the gates before they arrive and these folks aren’t trained for a long siege.”
She glanced around taking stock. They had maybe fifteen men and women on the ramparts. They were outnumbered by a madman’s army but had very solid walls on their side which should provide protection, she was pretty sure.
“Kill the leader,” Merrick offered.
Samuel shook his head stubbornly. “Won’t work — look at them,” his head nodded towards the wall, “they’re crazed. I don’t think they’ll run.”
Lil looked over her shoulder at the women guarding the door to the main hall. Swords clasped in timid hands as a last defense for the children inside that needed protection from the evil that stalked her gates. She took a steadying breath.
“Kill anyone who doesn’t run away,” she instructed calmly. “Tell the others and whatever you do, keep your head down.” She turned to climb the wall again, but Merrick was quicker, grabbing her sleeve hard to stop her.
“What are you doing?” Merrick hissed at her in Amerian as she yanked her arm free. Her eyes glaring furiously.
“Making them run,” she stated flatly.
A whistle sounded deep and low from over the wall.
“This is a lovely keep,” the raider hollered to his men, his ax now swung carelessly over his shoulders, “it will look even better burned to the ground,” he chuckled, drawing laughter from all around.
Lillanya sprung to the top edge of the parapet, knowing only something scarier than him would make them scamper. She would need to put on one hell of a show and hope her powers cooperated.
“Do you know who I am,” she demanded loudly. “I am Lillanya Eschesch and I defeated the darkness when no one else could. Do you think you scare me?” Her voice turned dark as the winds picked up from the west moving stormy clouds over the keep.
“Little girl,” he vowed, “I’m going to enjoy you.” He dropped his ax with a thud to the hard ground, his threat meant to terrify her.
Lillanya started laughing deep in her throat, her eyes turning scarlet red. The marks on her hands and arms starting to come alive, glowing in the darkness, enhanced by the looming clouds.
“You should have run,” she rasped coldly, her voice carrying on the tempest that rose behind her.
Her power drew from the warmth of the earth. The air started to sizzle with her defiance and rage. Lil crooked her head slightly as she lit the parapet tops with wild blue fire. One by one they ignited, lighting the wall in succession so she could be seen better. She splayed her fingers and slammed her arms wide as searing lightning crackled from the sky, her arms driving it forward at her command. The brutal wind whipped her hair and dress about with the forces she controlled, making her seem every inch the witch they all feared she was. Arrows flew from both sides as she punished the insolent, targeted the cowardly, and put the fear of hell into those that came at what was hers. Streaks of plasma fire traced the air from the high towers, Samuel packing more than the average man in this fight. Chaos reigned as their courage started to fail, but still far too many held the field, refusing to run. She pulled every ounce of strength she had, her failure was not an option. She threw her head back, a scream growing in her throat as she scraped power from the sky, the fire in the hearths, the walls she stood on, burning the blue fire around her hotter and deadlier, turning it white and hurtling it from the walls with a thrust of her hands. Lillanya pelted the ground with exploding flames, blowing craters at their feet as they ran over comrades who no longer had that opportunity. Driving them from the field, terrified of her strength and the power she wielded.
She heard the thwump again of a plasma rifle as the few men who stood firm perished and still their leader stood, unyielding against the storm dividing his army, burning them to the ground. Sneering at her light show, he somehow avoided the arrows and munitions that strayed his way. Savage retribution marring his face as he memorized her features.
“You’re choice,” she whispered, as she coiled the power, swirling it around her hands. Manipulating the last of her strength with a clarity of resolve, she hurtled it with all her might at his body, intent on putting a hole where he stood. Her magic met the man head on, blowing him backwards from the knoll he stood on instead of reducing him to ash, but the effect was the same. Their little army was broken in fear of the white witch who held the higher ground. The stragglers were encouraged on their way by a final barrage of arrows, leaving the lands before them still.
Lillanya watched as the storms disappeared and the stars reemerged, the flares falling gently as they dissipated into nothingness. Her hands numb, the field deserted of the living, she turned and stumbled off the wall. Merrick caught her arm lightly to steady her as she landed shaking on the ramparts, her legs barely holding her. She bent over, her breathing ragged, holding her side tight with her forearm as she closed her brown eyes, trying to shield herself from the pain of being shattered into a million pieces.
Merrick watched her with inscrutable eyes as she reached up to grab something solid, his hand instinctively grasping hers to provide balance and help pull her upright. A jolt arched between them at his touch. Her liquid amber eyes meet his for a brief moment before her eyes fluttered back in her head, her body going limp. His strong arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling head first off the walls as she collapsed.
Chapter 5
Merrick sat in the corner, watching Lillanya as she slept. She hadn’t moved for hours after they carried her in, her breathing almost imperceptible, laying where they placed her still as death. Just before dawn the nightmares came, her form fitfully twitching as she was tormented by demons he couldn’t chase.
At least she was alive. The power she displaced the night before had shaken the very walls of the keep, the battleground pockmarked with the forces she had thrown at the attackers. Every ounce of power targeted at their survival save what she needed to breathe and even then he wasn’t sure she wasn’t prepared to forfeit that for them also.
What was I thinking touching her?, he chastised himself for the hundredth time over his thoughtless action. He knew better, had been trained better. The simplest of touch from those of his kind could steal energy or negate it completely. In this case, he had drained what little power she had left and almost killed her. The striations on her hands had faded back into light orange marks that stood stark against her pale skin. If she would just wake up, his heart whispered.
The old woman Lillanya had rescued brought in soup and tea, bustling about the room, straightening this and that. Her aged hands tidying Lil’s bedroom that was in shambles from the flurry of activity yesterday.
Hours had come and gone and Rourke’s reinforcements had arrived, but still Merrick sat, letting Samuel and the assassin deal with them in the hall. Merrick could hear the muffled shouting from where he waited as Everett refused to tell Rourke where Lillanya was or allow him to come searching.
Lil opened her eyes gingerly, once again seeing the top of a lovely canopy bed adorned with delicate lace, the light smell of lavender wafting on a warm breeze perpetuated by slightly opened windows.
“Ugh,” she groaned faintly, her body strained and aching, revolting against the slightest motion.
She closed her eyes, taking small breaths in a desperate attempt to keep her head from spinning off. Lil sensed the movement more than saw it as Merrick stood up and came to the corner of the bed to check on her, bracing his body behind the spiraled poster to give her space. Lil cracked an eye wearily.
Merrick surveyed her critically, assuring himself that she was going to be okay. He pointed to her side table.
“Eat,” he managed in Amerian followed by a string of other words she didn’t begin to understand.
“I still have no idea what you’re saying,” she murmured softly in Solarian, too tired to translate as sat up gingerly, the world revolving wildly. Merrick knelt in front of her, ready to catch if she collapsed. She inhaled slowly, concentrating on the flow of the air, the sound of his breathing, the heat from his hands inches from her skin and managed to open her eyes, nodding at him. She watched as he walked over to the wall, and pulling a small lever she had never really noticed, opened a small hatch and let water run into the copper bowl he had picked up.
Huh, she thought slowly, never saw that coming. He placed the bowl on her table and taking one last pensive look at her, turned to stand guard outside the door.
Lillanya grabbed the tiny bowl of broth and sipped little bits between her parched lips, letting the warm fluid trickle down her throat enjoying the slight buttery taste. A commotion coming from the great hall caught her attention as angry voices shouted at each other in Amerian. What now? she thought, exhaustion making her weary of settling down irate men. Men, who at least, weren’t charging up the stairs to kill her, so that being an improvement from her previous situation. She stared at her empty soup cup, pondering its ability to be refilled, and stood, wondering at her capacity to not fall over. Rule five, peace never sleeps, neither does trouble.
“Best get it over with,” she whispered, smoothing her hair as flat as it would go.
