Chapter 45
Ryker
“All of the tents to the south, right in front of the rock face.” I gestured to the warriors, not stopping my stride.
“What about the war tent?” one of the hundreds of voices trying to get my attention called out.
“In front of the others, facing the river,” I said, already slowed in my tracks by a warrior holding up a map.
“I did the calculations.” Her finger glided upstream along the Obsidian River. “The Crimson Dam is a full day march for an entire army, half for a smaller group.”
“Good. Send the fastest scouts to find the safest path,” I said.
“What about the healers’ pavilions?” one of the younger healers called out.
“Next to the camp entrance, on either side. The healers sleep next to the warriors.” The evenings might’ve been rowdier than they would have liked, but safer.
The warriors scrambled around me. Swords and shields clinked alongside cauldrons and tankards, and tents flapped in tune with the axe bearing down on the trees brimming the clearing.
Chaos, but an organized one.
The kind that brought hope, however shaky. And, gods, we needed some of that.
Our troops were already on edge after we’d changed our route and spent a night sleeping in an unguarded field, with the rumbles from the Defector Lands hissing in the distance. Zandyr and I had taken turns patrolling the area with the sentries, and the strain was getting to me.
And it was still so hot.
I’d long since divested myself of the tunic, but sweat kept dripping down my chest. I was a walking waterfall, giving orders left and right, eyes scanning the clearing for any danger I might have missed.
Thousands of souls rested on my shoulders.
I had redirected our troops.
I’d stopped us from crossing the river.
I’d brought them into the clearing.
Only the gods knew if I made the right call, but it was too late to turn back now.
With the unscalable Merciless Mountains guarding our backs, a forest to our left, and the river up ahead, its roar barely visible between the trees, we were as protected as this land would allow.
But I wouldn’t take any chances.
“Myron.” I pointed at one of Zandyr’s most trusted warriors; he was more bones than muscle, but made up for it with cunning speed and precision. “Take the scouts up as far as you can go in the mountains. Check for traps and spies.”
His already dark eyes shadowed more as he gave a curt nod and vanished between the waves of bodies moving this way and that, everyone with their own task.
I’d relegated my warriors to building the spiked fence; they’d chopped enough hard firs at home that the sap-rich softwood surrounding us proved no obstacle at all.
They swarmed through the forest, their thick furs and metal helmets forgotten in a pile.
Once this ordeal was finished, we needed to send a whole new army to replace the trees we were sacrificing.
“Kylian.” I called out to a burly warrior who could have towered over Vylkor himself–they even had the scars on their brows to match. He was one of the few I could make out in the swarm. “Gather two hundred men, each carrying at least five of the biggest wooden spikes, and follow me.”
Kylian didn’t ask any questions. He nodded that big head of his and whistled.
I grabbed a load of stakes myself. Their serrated sides dug into my skin, but their sweet sap finally erased the stench of the Defector Lands and blood from my nose.
By the time I marched outside the perimeter of the camp, I had hundreds of steps and groans following me.
I allowed myself a small sigh of relief.
Order.
Efficiency.
This is what the Blood Brotherhood army was good at–being ready for anything.
And I had to keep everything moving perfectly.
“Where are you off to?” Elysia called out.
She kneeled outside the stake fence with Calyx, cheeks and hands muddied, an entire row of his menacing caltrops already buried one foot deep. Behind them lay a row of the runes Allie and Dara had enchanted.
My nostrils flared as a wave of longing struck me.
I could almost smell her in the air, carried by the wind, as if she was watching over us.
Every time I let my thoughts wander toward her–though it happened much more often than it should have–my chest tightened and the fire burning inside of me blazed harder.
I reminded myself that she was safe. That helped less the more I repeated it.
“To secure the entire perimeter,” I said.
“What do you think we’re doing? Planting daisies?” Calyx grumbled.
“Roses would have looked better,” Elysia muttered.
Calyx did not look good, however.
His warm skin had gone ashen, a pale shadow of its normal tan. Sweat pooled above his dark brows, and his movements were sluggish and forced. Elysia kept giving him concerned glances; she wouldn’t have risked her pristine fingers in that mud if she hadn’t been watching over him like a hawk.
“Maybe you should take a break, this sun’s brutal,” I said, as gently as I could as hundreds of men waited for me to lead them.
“That sounds like a great idea.” Elysia brightened, looking expectantly at Calyx.
“I’m fine.” He waved us off. “We’ll finish this side and then I’ll stick my head in a stew cauldron.”
She grimaced. “That pig-headedness of yours is going to get you into an early grave.”
“Good thing we’re digging a hole, then.”
She nudged his shoulder, gentler than usual. “Don’t even joke about that.”
I left them to their jabs, braced the stakes in my arms once more, and ventured into the lines of young trees standing between us and the river. The trace of Allie’s energy followed me.
In the shadow of the trees, I let myself indulge in it.
Hasty goodbye aside, the coldness still lingered between us. Yet the mere idea of her gave me the strength I needed to lead this army and face the horrors that awaited us.
I wondered if that would make her happy or make her curse me.
I never knew how the storm blew with her.
With each step, the river’s roar grew louder, the air fresher and more damp, soothing some of that unbearable heat.
The line of trees ended on a grassy knoll, carved on one side by the river in gods-knew how many centuries. It wasn’t tall enough to tire out a Serpent soldier overtaken with battle lust, but with rain and mud, a few might at least stumble.
A small protection, but one nonetheless.
“We need to dig into the bank and embed stakes in it,” I said. “And we’ll hide some of Calyx’s traps here, too.”
“We need more stakes, then,” Kylian said. “The Serpent soldiers can weed through them.”
“It’s not the soldiers I’m worried about.”
If those beastly snakes could cross the river, the spikes would rip their bellies. Hopefully.
“Maybe we can raise the bank, too,” I yelled over the river’s racket.
I walked up the knoll, grimacing at the dark clouds gathering in the distance. At least the camp would be settled by the time they reached us. The rain would also soak the Serpent soldiers first, at least–
The stakes fell from my arms, clattering at my feet.
Kylian rushed beside me. “What’s…gods above.”
No gods should have allowed this to happen.
On the other side of the river, the plain had been burned to the ground.
A few tree stumps were still smoking.
No grass.
No animals.
Nothing but ash and dirt, a stark difference to the tall, thick grass swaying around my ankles.
Generations after us would still struggle to bring life back to it.
“Why?” Kylian asked. “Why incinerate everything?”
Senseless destruction had only one goal.
“To send a message,” I said.
One meant to frazzle our minds, just like dousing the village in blood.
The Battlefield Butcher would break the entire land to defeat us.
“They know where we are,” he said.
I fisted my palms at my sides. “They do.”
What surprised me was how fast they’d acted.
A traitor rested in our midsts, that much was certain, but how could they have alerted the Serpents so fast? We’d been marching all day.
As my mind whirled with the possibilities, Elysia’s yell broke through the forest.
I should have run back at a normal speed, to conserve my energy.
I told myself to do it.
Yet instinct and worry took over.
My bones cracked and pushed against my muscles as I propelled myself back through the trees. I halted with a painful groan, aching and on fire, just to see Elysia and Zandyr hovering over Calyx’s twitching body.
He had his eyes closed shut, muttering unintelligibly.
“He’s feverish!” Elysia yelled, already digging into that strange leather bag of hers, a cacophony of scents bursting out of it, both acrid and sweet. As the healers raced to help, she held up a steady hand. “No. I deal with him alone.”
The healers looked to Zandyr for orders, but he just shook his head. “She knows how to treat him.”
“Hopefully,” Elysia muttered and took out a long, strange vial.
“Get him out of the sun,” I mustered, blinking through the sudden nausea.
I grabbed hold of the nearest spike sticking out of the ground to keep from falling.
Running at those speeds had never tired me so, igniting my veins to the point of boiling.
I pressed a hand to my chest, overcome by the sudden worry that both Calyx and I had been poisoned.
But I dismissed that thought as soon as it sprang up.
Something…something else was pulling at my energy.
“Pig-headed fool,” Elysia grumbled under her breath, dabbing Calyx’s lips with a reddish concoction. “You’re going to kill me with worry before you die.”
“Let’s get him inside.” Zandyr braced and picked him up in his arms.
But the stubborn Master of Arms refused to go quietly.
“No!” He thrashed against Zandyr, protective amulet swinging so hard, it almost ripped from its leather string. “I help. I can.”
Calyx had a powerful size. Even if the wound had weakened him, his flails were forceful, especially with Zandyr trying his best not to harm his friend.
I stepped forward, arms already outstretched to help.
But that pull of energy swayed me back against the fence, the wood digging painfully into my ribs.
“You can’t both faint on me.” Elysia raced to my side and tried to grab my shoulders. The moment her fingers touched me, she yanked them back. “You are burning!”
I nodded; even that small gesture sucked the vision from my eyes.
My power ignited, racing through my veins to discover the cause.
Instead, it met a warm, familiar force. One that I had been longing for.
Allie.
The very essence of hers pulsed against my consciousness, strong and stubborn as always.
I barely registered the shock of it all when a fresh wave of fear took its place.
The world around me turned into one murky, trivial mass. The only thing that mattered was that flutter of her calling out to me.
“What’s going on?” Elysia asked, as if from the depths of the frozen lake.
“The Huntress is in danger.”
And I was thousands of miles away.