Chapter 14 #4
Since Yevlor was close to finding his sword in the water, Vorik kicked him back even as he focused his blades on Gavartash.
The man managed to parry two blows but stumbled back and bumped into the tunnel wall, and the third attack slid in, knocking his sword away to disarm him.
Before Gavartash could scramble away, Vorik pressed his dagger to the man’s throat, using it to pin him against the wall.
He turned his sword toward the oncoming troops.
Captain Lesva, her own sword drawn, slowed to a stop, but a female rider at her side fired a crossbow.
Without removing his dagger from Gavartash’s throat, Vorik ducked.
The quarrel whizzed over his head and landed with a fleshy thud.
Yevlor grabbed his shoulder as he spun away, stumbling and splashing in the water again.
“Idiot,” Lesva snarled, pushing the woman’s arm down.
“You said—”
“To kill him, yes,” Lesva said, her icy eyes locked on Vorik, “but not to shoot in an enclosed space with our men nearby.”
“To kill me, Lesva? After all we’ve been through?
I’m wounded. Though not as wounded as some.
” Vorik glanced at Yevlor, not wanting an angry and injured man at his back, but Yevlor had abandoned trying to find his sword and backed to the storm-drain entrance.
He slumped against the wall with his hand to his wounded shoulder.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Yevlor ground out through clenched teeth. “I didn’t want to.”
Sword clenched in a hard and frustrated grip, Lesva stopped a few paces from Vorik.
She didn’t look surprised to see him. Had she seen him on the rooftop earlier and intentionally brought her team close?
Yes, this probably hadn’t been a chance meeting.
But what had she intended? To attack Vorik while he’d been distracted fighting the other two men?
She must have known Gavartash wasn’t a match for him, but she had a lot of troops with her. Did they all want Vorik dead?
Other than the rider at Lesva’s side, a lieutenant from Moonhunt Tribe who’d probably been loyal to the captain for years, the others hung back. Soldiers and riders from a number of tribes, they hadn’t yet drawn weapons. But when Vorik’s gaze skimmed over them, few met his eyes.
“You should be executed for the choices you’ve made,” Lesva said. She had no trouble meeting his eyes. “The choices you’ve let your penis make.” She looked in disgust at his crotch.
Vorik sighed, not interested in getting into that with her again. “As I was telling our riders, I’ve orders to kidnap Queen Syla and Lady Abrya.”
“So do I,” Lesva said. “The queen is here in the city, isn’t she? We know she left her ship. Is she going to the palace?”
If Lesva didn’t know that, Vorik wouldn’t tell her.
“She and Lady Abrya apparently both know where this island’s shielder is and have moon-marks,” was what he said.
“If we can capture them both, Jhiton believes we can get past the mental defenses of at least one and learn its location.” His brother hadn’t exactly said that, but using his name might help Vorik get through to Lesva.
“If we work together instead of against each other, it’ll be easier. ”
“You’ve been working against me ever since you met her,” Lesva growled.
“You’ve chosen to be obsessed with her. You’re not obeying Jhiton’s orders.”
“Your brother is giving you far too much lenience in these matters. The queen must be killed.”
“The queen has a moon-mark and knows where the shielders are.”
“That’s not what you care about, Vorik. You want to keep her alive so you can keep sinking your cock into her.”
The soldiers glanced at each other or studied the ceiling and the walls, all looking like they wanted to be elsewhere. Anywhere else.
Vorik caught himself clenching his fist around his sword hilt. It wasn’t appropriate to argue and be disrespectful in front of the troops, and he didn’t allow himself to respond in kind.
“She’s too valuable to kill,” he stated. “I’m going to kidnap her and Lady Abrya. Per my orders. You can help me or work against me.”
“I’m not helping you get laid and endanger our people, and you can find your own tunnel to the palace. You’re not invited along with us.”
Lesva eyed his sword, as if she was tempted to attack him even though her distraction had failed, but maybe she’d had enough of battling him.
Thus far, she hadn’t managed to come out on top.
She turned her back and strode toward the bend in the tunnel, presumably having been in the city long enough to know a route that would take her to the palace.
The female rider walked at her side, not hesitating, but many of the other troops exchanged uncertain looks. Hopefully, that meant they hadn’t all passed a similar judgment on Vorik.
He looked at them and raised his chin. “I’m following the general’s orders instead of wandering off on my own self-imposed mission. If any of you want to come with me, I’ll gladly accept you. There’s a lot of work to be done.”
“A lot of women to be kidnapped?” Gavartash muttered.
“It’ll be dangerous, and there’s a dragon and that weapons platform to contend with as well. For those involved in succeeding at this mission, it’ll be glorious. And it’ll help our people.”
Lesva paused to scowl back at him. “Nobody’s going with you, traitor. Come on, men.”
Vorik spread his arms. He wouldn’t mind skulking about the city and trying to accomplish his goals alone—it might be easier that way—so he wouldn’t push hard to lure the men to his side.
Besides, if nobody came with him, he would discover with unsettling clarity how his people felt about him, what his reputation had become.
But it would be better to know than not know.
Surprisingly, Yevlor moved first, coming to stand beside Vorik. With a crossbow quarrel in his shoulder, he wouldn’t be much help, but this was less about gaining men to employ in battle and more about… figuring out where the tribe stood.
After glancing warily at Vorik, Gavartash walked after Lesva. Several other men, however, slipped past her to join Vorik. She glared daggers at them.
In the end, two-thirds of her forces joined him. Yevlor was the only one from Lesva’s tribe who left her, and it was probably more because his ally had shot him, but, aside from Gavartash, none from Vorik’s tribe abandoned him, and he gathered most of the people from the other tribes.
Lesva hissed in disgust and punched Gavartash in the shoulder instead of welcoming him with open arms, then stalked off down the tunnel.
“He’s not going to get as much rubbed tonight as he thinks,” Yevlor said.
“He might have if he’d succeeded,” someone said.
“Killing Captain Vorik isn’t easy,” another man said. “Only a dummy would try.”
“Are we going to the palace, sir? There might be another tunnel that goes that way.”
Vorik imagined two teams of stormers trying to sneak separately into a palace full of guards and with a dragon perched on the roof.
Given Lesva’s tension, the stormers would be as likely to end up fighting each other.
All Vorik really wanted was Syla. Yes, he’d promised Jhiton that he would also retrieve the lady, but if he got Syla, wouldn’t that be enough?
She knew not only about this island’s shielder but the locations of all the shielders.
But Syla was heading in the same direction as Lesva.
Unless… Vorik scratched his jaw. Maybe he could lure her back to her fleet.
To the ship with the weapons platform. She would come to defend it if it was under attack, wouldn’t she?
And if she returned to the docks, she wouldn’t be there when Lesva arrived in the palace.
“I have another plan,” Vorik said.
“What’s that, sir?” a man asked warily. Thinking of Lesva’s comments about why Vorik wanted to get Syla and worried he’d made the wrong choice?
“Who wants to help me sink that weapons platform?” he asked, sure none of them would object, not after they’d lost friends and dragons.
“Oh, yes,” came a relieved statement. More than one.
Vorik nodded. “Follow me, men.”