The Lost Alliance (The Nihryst Book 3) Page 17

  The blade fell to the dirt as she took in the sight before her. Her stomach heaved and tears filled her eyes instantly. Bile rose in her throat. She shook her head in disbelief as someone muttered behind her, “No, no, no.”

  Unable to stand any longer, she dropped to her knees beside a weeping Lee. She didn’t know what to do—what to say. Nothing could make the massacre in front of them better. Even in the dark, she could see the dark stains of blood on the soil. At least two dozen men and women lay scattered around the small clearing.

  Half of whom had been in this war before. They’d lived over a century only to be slaughtered as soon as their curse was lifted. The others, Ada assumed belonged to O’ Chwedlau. Gwyn needed to know.

  Ada pushed to her feet, sweeping up her fallen dagger. She looked around the dark trees, wondering if they’d just walked into a trap. Standing at Lee’s back, she turned in a circle. But there was no one but the rest of their crew mourning their friends.

  “They’re not all here,” she said, counting the bodies again.

  “What?” Lee’s voice was barely audible.

  “Merta is missing, as are a couple others. Leandra and Theo… Alex.” She moved around, one hand on her queasy stomach as she took in each face. “They’re not here.”

  She knelt down, inspecting the broken twigs and footprints as best she could in the dark. Glancing around, she noticed a bush that looked worse for wear. As if someone had stumbled through it.

  Standing, Ada inhaled the cool night air. Lee still sat on the ground, his face tilted down as he looked at his murdered friends—the crew who’d served him for over one hundred years. It was hard to know exactly what happened, but it was clear they had been ambushed in their attempt to reach the cannons. Ada went to Lee’s side and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently before addressing the rest of the crew. “Two of you go back to the village and tell Gwyn or Brienne what happened. They need to know. Stay with them and keep an eye out for another attack like this. We don’t know how many Rayernans there are out here instead of on the eastern fields. They might have heard the cannons hitting Senfyr and sent more that way.”

  Two men volunteered. They didn’t wait to leave, and Ada knew it was because they couldn’t face their dead comrades anymore.

  “The rest of you,” she said, “we’re going after the others.”

  “It might be a trap,” George whispered.

  Ada reached down a hand to Lee, praying to the stars he could put this grief aside long enough to continue. When he took it and stood, she didn’t let go. “Oh, it’s most definitely a trap.”

  Chapter 27

  Adalina

  It didn’t take long to find the small camp. With cannons still firing, Ada and the others followed the loud booms that seemed to echo through the night.

  The Rayernans had lit a small fire at the top of a cliff overlooking the sea and eastern shore. Ada halted her crew in the shadows just beyond the clearing. Tied to a tree near the circle were the four missing Nihryst. They appeared whole if a little banged up. Ada’s eyes drifted to the three cannons on the other side of the clearing nearest the cliffside. There were maybe ten soldiers she could see.

  It wasn’t truly a trap then. Unless the rest hid in the trees around them. Regardless, she’d made the right choice in sending a couple back to warn the others. She just hoped they made it to Gwyn and Brienne before an ambush. There had to have been more soldiers somewhere if they managed to kill that many rebels and members of their crew.

  “We need to get control of those cannons before they do more damage,” she whispered, her words barely audible.

  Behind her, Lee shifted to draw his sword. His breath stirred her hair as he leaned in close. “You and George go to the prisoners. Make sure none of the men double back when we attack. Protect them and get them out of those bonds.”

  When she nodded, he kissed the back of her head. The heat of him disappeared. The softest of footsteps retreated as he began leading everyone else around the far side of the makeshift camp. Ada glanced to George, who dipped his head.

  With a deep breath, she led him toward Merta and the others, dagger in hand. She moved slowly, not wanting to fall and alert the soldiers of their presence. But when she looked to see shadows shifting closer to the cliffside and cannons, she knew she needed to move faster. As if reading her mind, George stepped up and wrapped a hand around her arm to keep her steady. She silently cursed herself and quickened their pace.

  They stopped a few feet from those tied up. Three soldiers sat between the prisoners and the small fire. The rest continued loading and firing the cannons every few minutes. Ada shook her head, hoping they weren’t destroying her men or her family.

  Clenching her teeth, she stepped out of the shadows. She walked on her toes toward the prisoners while George went to the sitting soldiers. Leandra’s eyes widened as she first noticed Ada. Dripping blood had dried on her cheek, but she appeared otherwise unscathed. Beside her, Theo’s head lolled to one side, and his eyes stayed shut. The other two were tied to the other side of the wide tree, just out of sight.

  Ada gripped her dagger tighter and squatted beside Leandra, cutting the ropes as soon as she reached them. Sawing back and forth, they slowly frayed.

  Shouts rang out, and Ada’s eyes snapped up. Lee and the others were fighting those by the cannons while George faced off those nearest the fire. He’d already brought one down before the others got to their feet. Ada went back to the task at hand. When the first rope finally gave, it was simply a matter of unwinding the rest.

  George yelled in pain. Ada jumped up, ready to fight off the men before they could reach the prisoners.

  “Go,” Leandra said, yanking at the rope now hanging limp. “I’ve got this.”

  Ada pulled out her spare dagger and handed it to the woman, then she moved around to the other side of the tree. She could barely hear the crackling of the fire over all the commotion. A soldier in all gray twisted away from George and the second soldier. George was favoring one side, but he was still holding his own.

  The lone third soldier held his sword up as he walked toward Ada. She stepped in front of Merta, happy to see the woman was alive and alert. The blade facing them shook, and Ada’s brow furrowed. The man moved so slowly, as if he didn’t want to fight—as if he feared it. That was when she took a second look at his face.

  He was young, maybe a few years older than her, and he looked familiar. Her chest tightened as she glanced around the rest of the group. She knew them. Not all by name, but she recognized them. These weren’t soldiers trained for battle.

  They were guards of the royal family.

  “Stop!” she yelled, knowing it wouldn’t do any good for those fighting on the cliffside, but she had to try. She met the young man’s eyes and lowered her dagger, lifting her free hand out in front of her as she took a cautious step closer. “We don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

  His sword dropped a bit. “We have orders, Princess.”

  So, he did recognize her. She raised her chin, daring another step forward. “From a false king. Were you there? When he killed his parents?”

  His face blanched, and his weapon fell even more. “He threatened us, our families. We have to follow his orders.”

  “No,” she shook her head, “you don’t. Your true king—the lost prince—is here. We have proof.” When he didn’t speak or move, she continued, aware of the fighting still happening around them. “Michel broke the treaty. He killed his parents and Lady Saundra of Prillia. He locked me in a dungeon and attacked my home. We don’t want this war, but he cannot stay on a throne that doesn’t even belong to him.”

  “We didn’t capture them. They were brought to us to keep an eye on… by a group of Michel’s men.” He pointed to the crew now free from their bonds. Michel, no title. Maybe she could get through to them.

  “It’s true,” Merta said, coming to Ada’s side.

  The man stared at Ada for a long beat. “You have proof?”<
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  “Yes,” she said. “Birth certificates, a journal, and… and the Heulwen.”

  His eyes widened, his sword dropping completely before he hollered out to his men, “Stop!”

  Ada let out a breath, and together, they moved to break George and the other soldier apart. Then, they rushed to the others. A few Rayernans lay on the ground, but to her relief, none were killed. Ada ran into the melee, as did the young man. It took several shouts and some physically pulling people apart, but they managed to stop the fighting. All except Lee, who looked murderous. She’d heard of the consuming rage that resulted in Ren’s death, but to see it…

  “Lee!” She reached out to grab him, and he shrugged her off. The man he fought tripped backward as Lee’s strikes grew too intense. He fell to the ground, but before Lee could take the killing blow, Ada stepped between them, gripping her weapon with both hands. The clang of his sword meeting her dagger echoed throughout the space. She barely managed not to fall back herself—he was so much stronger than she was.

  But he’d pulled back at the last second, lessening the force.

  “What are you doing?” he screamed. “I could’ve—”

  “What? Killed me?” She lowered her dagger, not moving from her place in front of the fallen guard. “They’re not soldiers. They didn’t kill our crew.”

  Lee shook his head in disbelief.

  Placing her free hand on his chest, she lowered her tone. “They’re royal guards, only following orders because Michel threatened their families. They aren’t part of this. The group that killed our friends is still out there.”

  Lee just stared at her, still breathing heavily. “You believe that?”

  “He believes me about the lost prince,” she said, tilting her head toward the young man who’d told her everything. “Why shouldn’t I believe him? Look at them, Lee. They don’t want this fight any more than we do.”

  Ada turned and helped the man behind her to his feet. The other from earlier approached, and Ada asked his name.

  “Thomas, your Highness.” He inclined his head.

  She gave him a soft smile before putting a hand on Lee’s arm to lower his sword and to turn him toward Thomas. “This is Loxley, the rightful king of Rayerna.”

  Chapter 28

  Shane

  Shane wanted to sink into the sand and never get back up. Exhaustion coursed through his veins. He ached all the way down to the bone. For hours, they’d fought off small groups of soldiers. The cannons finally stopped, but now they were trapped behind this cluster of boulders. They’d thought it would help to keep something guarding their back. Now, with bodies of their enemies piling up on either side, he regretted the decision.

  “Where are our reinforcements?” Phillip asked.

  “I love you,” Shane hissed, “but if you ask me where one more person is, I might go find another rock to hide behind. I know exactly the same amount of information as you.”

  Phillip glared at him, but Shane saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

  As if their thoughts conjured them, a horn blared. Shane straightened and loosened the grip on his sword. Cautiously, a few of their men inched around the stones toward the beach. Seconds later, they called out the all clear and Shane’s shoulders sagged in relief. Their exhausted and injured men headed out toward their incoming troops.

  A hand shot out, stopping Shane in his tracks. He slid his sword into its sheath as Phillip had them wait until they were the last two behind the boulders. Then, Phillip turned and kissed him. It was quick and short but held so much love Shane sighed when they parted.

  “I…” Phillip ran a hand down Shane’s arm, grabbing his hand. “Tensions are going to be running high the next few days. I’m sorry if I—”

  Shane pressed his lips to Phillip’s, cutting him off. “Me too.”

  They kissed again. This battle had just started, and it was already traumatic. Shane knew it was going to be bad, but this? It was too much.

  A throat cleared, and they jumped apart, Phillip whipping around to face the intruder. Holding a torch, a young soldier—Andrew—mumbled an apology.

  “The commanders are having us set up camp,” he said, looking to Shane. “Maxwell sent me to find you.”

  He glanced at Phillip briefly, but kept his eyes on the king. Shane’s stomach dropped. There was no doubt the man had seen them. Shane looked to his husband. “Go do what you need to. Have the other commanders meet us in the war tent as soon as it’s up.”

  Phillip hesitated.

  “It’s all right,” Shane whispered, squeezing his hand. “Go.”

  Nodding, Phillip marched past Andrew. When Shane followed at a slower pace, the soldier apologized again. “Your Majesty, I won’t say anything, I swear. I know things happen in the heat of the moment.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not what this was…” Shane had known Andrew for years. They’d trained together, and he knew Andrew to be a kind man. Which was why he didn’t seem to be able to stop talking. “We were married. Just before, on the way here. I…”

  “Sir,” Andrew faced him, and relief washed through Shane at the smile he found. “Congratulations.”

  Fidgeting with the ring still on the wrong hand, Shane said, “Thank you. He’s worried how the soldiers would react if they knew. That they wouldn’t think he earned this position as he did.”

  “Well, as one of his soldiers, I can tell you that’s not true.” Andrew led him around the boulder to the edge of the camp setting up. He nodded toward Phillip, who was moving about, helping with tents and giving orders. “We might have teased him that he was promoted because of your friendship, but we all know he worked hard to get where he is. We respect him and will follow him into war, regardless of who he loves.”

  A lump formed in Shane’s throat. He’d thought the men felt that way, but hearing it made all the difference.

  “We would follow you too, your Majesty,” Andrew said, his tone softening. “Your people would be happy to know you’ve found each other.”

  Shane looked toward the young man. “Thank you.”

  Andrew nodded before walking away. After a few steps, he turned. “I know it’s not my place, but I don’t think either of you should hide it if you don’t want to. We could all use that ray of hope in these dark times.”

  With that, he was gone. Shane searched out the man he loved. He found him tending to one of the injured. Shane glanced back to the beach and boulders—to the dark forms of dozens of fallen men and women from both sides. Something would need to be done with the bodies. He closed his eyes for a second, inhaling a deep breath. He would have someone search out their own, take down names, and then build pyres on the far end of the beach.

  Squaring his shoulders, he opened his eyes and walked the rest of the short distance to the camp being set up along the grassy plains beyond the sand. The waters near the cliffs were deep enough for some of the ships to sail in closer, making it easier to unload supplies, soldiers, and horses. And all around, people took advantage of the break in attacks.

  Shane headed to the tall tent in the corner farthest from the hills to their west. Maxwell waited outside, a number of bamboo containers with the rolled-up maps under one arm. He tilted his head as Shane approached, and the king motioned him to move inside.

  The tent was the size of at least three of the others. In the center sat a long table, and Maxwell instantly went to work laying out the maps and any other papers they had. A wide cot sat on the other side. Shane wanted nothing more than to collapse onto it, but he knew it would be hours before that could happen.

  Instead, he moved to the table and looked over the small figures Maxwell sat around the large map. He pointed out where they believed the majority of Michel’s forces to be. Shane nodded, confirming that was where he’d last heard too. One by one, commanders staggered in through the tent flap. They circled the table, waiting for the last to enter—Phillip.

  When he finally joined, he went directly to Shane’s side. Shane could see
the weariness weighing on him. Phillip braced himself on the table with both hands. Then, he told the others all they’d endured the past few hours.

  The commanders, to their credit, looked guilt stricken as they heard about those they’d lost while waiting for reinforcements and the cannons to cease.

  “Where is your sister and her crew now?” someone asked—Shane missed who as he stared down at the map.

  “I don’t know…” he whispered. “They haven’t arrived yet, but the cannons just stopped, so I assume they’ll be here soon.”

  Shouting rang out through the camp, and Shane’s head snapped up. No. It was too soon for another battle. He looked to Phillip, but the man was already leaving the tent, sword drawn. The rest followed.

  Cursing, Shane did as well. At least they had more men this time and stood a chance. Unless Michel’s full force came down upon them. He didn’t know what would happen then, but he knew Michel, and he didn’t think he’d do that. The false king would draw this out—make them suffer as long as possible.

  They ran, chasing after those moving to the northern end of camp where dozens of soldiers charged from the open fields.

  “Where did they come from?” Shane shouted at no one in particular.

  They met the force head on. There weren’t enough to be overwhelmed. Not yet. But it was just enough to do some damage. Michel was smart; he knew to attack in bursts as they arrived. The battle was short—much shorter than the rest of the night now that the Detmaryans outnumbered their foe. There were still several injured though.

  Phillip ordered their men to set up a perimeter to make sure more didn’t sneak up on them when they didn’t expect it. A long stream of curses hissed under his breath as he stomped to help the wounded.

  Shane grabbed him by the arm. “This isn’t your fault.”