Chapter Twenty-six
Krelis leaned against the stable of the damaged Coach station outside Ranon’s Wood. From there, he could keep an eye on the landing place, the road leading to that privy hole of a village, and the station itself where a few of his men were clearing out the debris in a couple of rooms to turn it into a temporary headquarters.
One of the Hayllian Warlord Princes approached him, and said, “All the men are in position.”
“Fine,” Krelis replied. “Pass the word that they’re to do nothing but keep watch and make sure no one tries to slip between them.”
The Warlord Prince paused. “There’s no reason to give these—people—two hours.”
“There’s every reason,” Krelis snarled. “I want that Shalador bastard to sweat. If I’d demanded that the bitch Queen be handed over immediately, the Jeweled males left in the village probably would have fought out of instinct. So we give them a little time to think, to worry. Give him a little time to look at his family and the people he grew up with and weigh the pain that will come to them against protecting a Queen he barely knows. Give the rest of them time to think about their own skins and weigh their children’s lives against the life of one stranger. During the first hour, the villagers will split themselves into two camps. Before the second hour ends, the Shalador Warlord will either bundle her up and deliver her himself, or he’ll yield to the rest of his people and not stand in their way when they deliver her to me.”
The Warlord Prince made a sound of disgust “And we let the others crawl back into their lair?”
Krelis’s lips curled in a sneer. “Once I have the bitch-Queen, the men can do whatever they please with the rest of them. The females can be passed around for as long as they survive. The children will be sold as slaves. The males can be broken, then hobbled and used for training exercises. That should give everyone a chance to show his skills.”
A queer gleam filled the Warlord Prince’s eyes. “Yes, it should.”
Krelis waved his hand in dismissal.
He’d give the Shalador bastard time to sweat because it would also give him time to figure out what to do about the two Warlord Princes in the village—especially the Sapphire-Jeweled one. He hadn’t expected them. Another oversight his pet would have to account for. They might have to be eliminated before the bitch-Queen was handed over.
Well, that was the Red-Jeweled bastard’s problem.
Krelis called in a small wooden box. Inside was the brass button he had used to get past the traps spelled into the other ones in order to read the private messages, the brass button that had an extra spell woven into the metal—a spell his pet didn’t know about.
Krelis triggered the spell that yanked the psychic leash wrapped around his pet.
Then he made himself as comfortable as possible, and settled down to wait.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Jared, Talon, Blaed, Yarek, Thera, and Lia sat in a circle inside one of the Coaches.
Or two half circles, Jared thought uneasily. Blaed and Yarek flanked Thera the same way he and Talon flanked Lia.
He almost wished someone besides Yarek had been chosen to represent the survivors of Ranon’s Wood and Wolf’s Creek. He didn’t want to be separated from his uncle during the last hours he had left.
But that would depend on Yarek. Jared’s choice was already made.
“I’m going to surrender,” Lia said softly.
Thera’s green eyes turned icy. “Don’t be a fool. Do you really think those bastards are going to let the rest of us live?”
“He said—”
“He’s Hayllian, and that bitch’s Master of the Guard. What did you expect him to say? ‘Make it easy for us because we’re going to kill you anyway?’ Once they have you, there’s nothing to stop them from unleashing their Jewels and tearing this place apart.”
“If I surrender, they might spare the children,” Lia insisted.
Thera gave her a withering look. “Have you ever seen a young girl after a few males get done with her? Especially Hayllian males? Or what they do to a boy? I’d rather slit Cathryn’s throat than let her be handed over to what’s waiting out there. And Corry’s and Eryk’s, too. At least that would be quick and kind.”
Lia made a distressed sound. “These people have endured enough.”
“These people are going to die,” Thera said harshly.
“Because of me.”
Thera expelled a vile string of obscenities. “You really turn into an idiot when you don’t get enough sleep.”
Gray eyes met green.
Feeling Talon’s attention sharpen, Jared watched the two women who balanced and complemented each other’s strengths so well. They didn’t move, hardly seemed to breathe.
A minute passed.
Two minutes.
Finally, Lia said quietly, “Queen’s gamble.”
“Yes,” Thera said just as quietly. “It’s the only way now.”
Yarek cleared his throat. “What’s this Queen’s gamble?”
Lia’s eyes held Thera’s. “Something my grandmother taught me.”
Talon’s eyes narrowed as he studied the two of them.
Since Talon had the most fighting experience, Jared waited for the Warlord Prince to say something, but he wasn’t surprised when Talon remained silent and thoughtful.
Yarek cleared his throat again. “Meaning no disrespect for your grandmother, Lady, but I doubt anything’s going to get us through an attack from that many warriors.”
“This will. If everyone does what he’s supposed to do, this will.”
“Is there enough time for us to prepare?” Talon asked respectfully.
“There’s time,” Lia said, as Thera nodded slowly.
Talon rose to his feet. “Then I’ll tell my men.”
“No,” Thera said, her voice taking on an eerie quality that made Jared shiver. “Go with Blaed and Jared and tell the others who came with us from Raej.” Her mouth curved in a malevolent smile. “Tell all of them. Yarek, inform your people. They’ll need some time to accept having to face another battle. But do it quietly.”
With some effort, Yarek got to his feet. “Doesn’t matter if they have time or not. They’ll accept it. What choice do they have?”
Thera looked up at him. “None.”
Not sure if he wanted to give reassurance or get some, Jared leaned toward Lia.
She leaned away from him, avoiding even that much contact.
It didn’t matter, Jared told himself as he and the other men left the Coach. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to be near him. He wouldn’t blame her for not feeling for him even half of what he felt for her. It wouldn’t have come to anything anyway.
But, Mother Night, how he wished she’d let him hold her once more.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Leaning back against the bales of straw his men had arranged into a tolerably comfortable seat, Krelis delicately tested the knife’s edge against the ball of his thumb.
“What is it?” Krelis growled at the Warlord who kept shaking his head as he stepped into the stable.
“One of the villagers came down the road a minute ago.”
Satisfied with the edge, Krelis sheathed the knife. “I’m expecting one of them. Did you put him in the Coach station?”
“No, Lord Krelis.” The Warlord’s mouth curled in a vicious grin. “And it’s not likely you were expecting this one. He came around the curve in the road, saw us, and stopped. I thought he might be trying to spy on us, but he started grinning like a half-wit, unbuttoned his trousers, and watered the road. Then he turned around and headed back to the village. Didn’t even tuck himself in.”