Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood Page 15

  When Colbie reached out and stripped back the hood, horrified gasps issued from those on the steps. It was a Cyman soldier, his one eye glazing over in death.

  More screams suddenly erupted from the eastern end of the thoroughfare and the main outer gates. Kiernan’s eyes turned black.

  Bajan! Hurry and find Rogan and Airron. Tell them to meet us at the entrance gate.

  The Draca Cat hesitated. I will not leave you.

  Kiernan reached up and grabbed the enormous furry face between her hands.

  You must. And as soon as you do that, I want you to stay and guard Titus. He must remain hidden. His life will be forfeit if he is discovered now. Do this for me, Bajan.

  His life means nothing to me.

  All life has meaning, Bajan. What kind of Princess would I be if I did not value life? It is my duty to serve and protect.

  Yes, to protect the people of Massa.

  To protect the innocent, Bajan. There may be a time when I will have to kill to protect the innocent, and I will do so without hesitation, but Titus has not proven himself my enemy yet. I must go. Please do as I say.

  The Draca gave her a frustrated nudge and then sprinted toward the stables. Beck, who had been waiting patiently while she conversed with Bajan, grabbed her arm as soon as her eyes resumed their natural color and propelled her down the stairs.

  Weaving through the pedestrians on the street, they arrived at the outer wall just as two soldiers threw open the iron doors to the city and frightened citizens began pouring through them in a panic from the marketplace beyond. Kiernan wanted the vantage point of the top of the wall to access the situation, so she elbowed Beck and ran for one of two sets of stairs that led to the gatehouses on either side of the doors.

  The sentry standing guard inside at the top looked over as the door opened and immediately stood to block their way.

  “Stand down, soldier, it is Princess Kiernan.”

  His face registered shock and then he nodded respectfully to her. “Your Grace.”

  By the fact that he did not kneel, she knew that the wall was now considered a battlefield. Soldiers did not observe propriety during times of war. His plain black uniform with red trim proclaimed him a soldier of the Iserlohn Army. “What is happening?”

  “We are not quite sure, Your Grace, but I suggest you take a look.”

  Opening the gatehouse door, she pushed through the assembled soldiers and scanned the open plains east of Nysa. As she suspected, there stood a host of Cyman soldiers. She heard a scuffle behind her and turned to see Rogan and Airron plow through the gatehouse door, followed by the irate sentry.

  “It is all right, soldier,” said Kiernan. “They are with me.”

  The soldier looked at Rogan and Airron for a long moment before returning to his post in the gatehouse.

  “Where is Titus?” Beck asked Rogan urgently.

  “Don’t worry,” said Kiernan. “I have Bajan guarding him to make sure he stays hidden.”

  Suddenly, a thunderous roar sounded from beneath her and the wall trembled as Nysa’s Cavalry charged out through the open gates to offer protection to the people still streaming in from the marketplace. On the finest and fastest horses on the Island of Massa, the renowned regiment tore out onto the open grasslands in a flagrant show of strength and then reined their mounts to a dramatic stop, facing the enemy—a barefaced challenge for the Cymans to make a move.

  “Princess!” barked a deep voice. “You should not be here right now! It is too dangerous. I will have one of the Sabers escort you back to the palace.”

  Kiernan immediately recognized Bo Franck, Captain of Iserlohn’s main army, muscling his way toward her. Whereas Captain Nash was responsible for the protection of King Maximus and the royal family, Captain Franck was responsible for the defense of the city of Nysa and the land of Iserlohn. At age five, Captain Franck was the one to teach Kiernan how to ride her first pony and at the age of six, how to swing her first sword. He had spent countless hours teaching the young Princess the art of defense.

  Kiernan smiled fondly. “I am not a little girl anymore, Captain Franck.”

  He did not smile back, but said just as fondly. “To me you are.”

  She reached out to grab his arm. “As your Princess and, more importantly, as a shifter, I am asking you and your men to stand down.”

  The Captain’s eyebrows rose into his head. “We can handle this, Your Grace. We do not need magic to protect us. Never have and never will.”

  She sighed and then asked, “Can you do it with no lives lost, Captain? Because we can.”

  Her old instructor looked at her in assessment, and then nodded reluctantly. “As you wish.” He hesitated. “But, balls, girl, be careful! Your father will hang me by mine if you get hurt!”

  It was hard to hold back her smile.

  Beck growled next to her as a Cyman in the middle of the throng raised his arms and taunted the Calvary. Kiernan recognized him as the soldier they encountered south of Parsis. “It’s Teag,” she said. “He is the one leading this horde.”

  Kiernan remembered the threat Teag issued to Beck just days before that one of them would not survive their next meeting. She made a promise to herself right then. Beck Atlan was not going to be the one to die this day. Not if she had anything to say about it.

  Unexpectedly, Airron said, “I do not get this.”

  “What don’t you get?” Beck asked. “I feel the same way but want to hear your theory.”

  “Why are they here? If my estimate is correct, there are at most five hundred troops out here. How could they possibly expect to oppose Nysa’s armies?”

  Kiernan shouted for a range finder to get a closer look. “Maybe they don’t mean to fight,” she said as a Saber immediately handed her a long tubular finder and she peered through the shaft. “This could just be a scouting mission. After all, Ravener probably does not know much about the capabilities of Massa’s militia.”

  Beck ran his hands through his hair. “No. They will fight.”

  Rogan looked surprised at his conviction. “Why do you say that? Does it have to do with the Cyman assassin?”

  Captain Bo Franck turned to face them. “What the balls is a Cyman? Is it as big and ugly as the group sitting out there?” he asked, sweeping his hand out to the east.

  “Yes, Captain, that is a Cyman,” replied Beck. “If I am correct, the host before us now is Ravener’s sacrificial lambs. He knows they will not survive this encounter with Nysa. I would bet that the assassin was not even meant to succeed in killing King Maximus.” When everybody looked at Beck in question, he continued. “Remember what my father said? Ravener specializes in terror. He probably feels that if he can frighten the people of Massa enough, they will do anything he asks. They will bow down to him.”

  “Who is Ravener?” the Captain interrupted, looking at the shifters in confusion.

  Beck looked at him. “A Mage over three hundred years old who wants to rule Massa.” He turned back to the shifters. “Although Ravener knows that the Cymans will be destroyed, he probably figures that they will at least take out a large number of Iserlohn’s forces along the way. In his mind, this would be a fair trade for the fealty of Iserlohn’s people. I also do not think it is a coincidence that Teag leads this force. He is being punished for not bringing back Titus as he was ordered. This is his death sentence.”

  “Who is Titus?” asked Captain Franck.

  “A Cyman soldier,” said Kiernan distractedly and then turned back to Beck. “So, the Mage is forfeiting this battle to win the war.”

  “Exactly,” responded Beck.

  Kiernan jerked as the familiar Cyman war horn sounded, and hundreds of Cyman soldiers began tearing towards Nysa, dust billowing behind them in a cloud.

  The four shifters did not hesitate and leapt up onto the parapet.

  “What about archers?” screamed Captain Franck. Immediately, the archers along the wall brought up their bows.

  Kiernan shook her head. �
��Won’t work! They have skin as thick as a mantath!”

  Captain Franck paced the length of the wall. “Stand down, soldiers! Stand down!”

  Beck was the first to react by throwing out his hands and rippling the ground before the Cymans and sending the first line sprawling. The front line did not stand a chance as the forces behind continued to advance, trampling them to the ground.

  Even though the Cymans were immune to the archers’ arrows that could not penetrate their thick skin, it was not so with Rogan’s arrows. The screams of soldiers and the smell of burning flesh filled the air as fire slammed into their ranks.

  Kiernan cringed. This was nothing short of a slaughter. How could Ravener send his warriors to their deaths in this manner?

  Yet still they came.

  “Call in the Cavalry!” she shouted.

  Captain Franck gave the order and the signal was sounded for the Calvary to retreat. They did so reluctantly, Kiernan noticed. These were soldiers trained to fight and a fight is exactly what they were looking for.

  She looked at the frown on Beck’s face as he created a sinkhole and fifty Cyman warriors perished when they were buried alive. It was not easy to take a life, no matter how justified the act.

  Airron’s black wolf slithered through the mounted troops returning through the open gates to shred warriors with his sharp claws and teeth.

  By the time Beck, Rogan and Airron were finished with their deadly magic, there were only two Cymans left standing. One of them was Teag and he stumbled closer to the wall, bloodied and exhausted. He laughed bitterly as he looked at the carnage around him.

  “We meet again, Massan,” he snarled up at Beck.

  “Yes, we do,” Beck acknowledged.

  The Cyman fell to one knee as he laughed manically, knowing the end was near. “Come off your wall and let us negotiate your surrender!”

  Kiernan turned to one of the soldiers nearby. “Throw your sword over the wall,” she commanded. He hesitated at the unusual request. “Do as you have been ordered, soldier.”

  Unsheathing his weapon, he did as she asked.

  Kiernan watched the sword land and then sought out the Cyman standing next to Teag with her magic. The soldier snapped his head up to look at her and she slammed the link in place. Teag looked on suspiciously as his last remaining comrade walked to the fallen sword, picked it up and, with a mighty two-handed swing, took his head off at the shoulders.

  “We do not negotiate with the enemy,” she said unapologetically.

  Chapter 14

  AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

  Kiernan made her way wearily back to the palace with Beck, Rogan and Airron, and on the way met up with Rory who was hurrying to intercept them. Kiernan had forgotten all about the young fireshifter.

  “Where were you?” she asked.

  “Your friend, Larkin, had me cornered,” he said angrily. “The girl has the arms of an octopus.”

  Kiernan patted his shoulder. “I am sure she meant no harm, Rory.”

  “I am not so sure about that,” he murmured. “Your father wishes to see you in Grace Hall immediately.”

  Kiernan nodded in resignation. “Thank you, Rory.”

  Grace Hall, named after her mother, the Queen Grace Kenley Everard, was the pride of Nysa. Accented in black marble, the entire concaved ceiling of the outer dome featured a remarkable painted replica of Nysa in a stunning display of color. Kiernan’s mother commissioned the fresco a year before her death, but fell ill before she could enjoy the magnificent outcome. Her father utilized the Hall for formal entertaining as well as to take commoner appeals. People traveled to Nysa from all over Iserlohn to petition the King and his vassals for everything from settling land disputes to seeking employment to requesting foodstuffs for their families.

  Kiernan turned to the sound of hoof beats racing toward her from behind. Charging up on a splendid stallion, the mounted man pulled cruelly on the horse’s bit to stop the animal directly in front of Kiernan and her companions. She recognized the man as Lord Davad Etin, a house member of her father’s Court. He was finely dressed in a silk coat and trousers in the red and blue of House Etin, and his handsome face was pinched in disapproval as he looked down at her and bowed his head slightly. “So, the rumor is true.”

  She sighed regretfully. As soon as she stepped off the parapet and the Iserlohn soldiers shied away from her, she knew this was coming. “Which rumor would that be, Lord Etin?” she asked coolly.

  “How about the one where you and your cohorts kill five hundred men in cold blood using magic.”

  She flinched inwardly. Outwardly, she remained unperturbed. “Those men, if you wish to call them so, were enemy forces who have invaded Massa from a land unknown, Lord Etin. Our actions were wholly justifiable and saved the lives of hundreds of Iserlohn soldiers who would have perished had they met those warriors on the battlefield.”

  “So you say.”

  “I do say and you will address me properly, Lord Etin! Your insolence is tiring and inappropriate.”

  He nodded, more deeply this time. “Forgive me, Your Grace. The use of magic shifting and the arrival of monsters out of a child’s nightmare have me, and others I might add, a bit off balance.”

  “I can understand,” she freely admitted.

  He cleared his throat. “What would you have done with the bodies, Your Grace?”

  “Burn them. Good day, Lord Etin.”

  Without another word, she turned and strode into the castle. She could sense that Beck wanted to say something, but she kept her eyes to the front and led a hurried pace to Grace Hall. If she stopped now, her tenuous grasp on her composure would crumble to pieces.

  The servants they met along the way gasped at the sight of the stomping Princess and either dropped low to the ground in a curtsey or fled in the other direction. Apparently, news of her shifting traveled to the castle much faster than she did. She forced down the butterflies in her stomach and stopped before the two Scarlet Sabers outside of the Hall.

  The soldiers immediately knelt with fists to the ground in front of them. “Please rise,” she ordered. They did so and then one reached out to open the double doors gilded with a golden lion in the center while the other announced their presence.

  “They may enter,” came the deep reply.

  Her father was sitting stoically on his official throne, waiting. He was not a very tall man but possessed an imposing physique with broad shoulders and muscular arms and legs. He had dark, shoulder length hair with long sideburns and dark eyes that, when fixed on you, felt as though they could read every thought you ever had. At least that was what the twelve-year-old Kiernan had always thought. For some reason, the eighteen-year-old Kiernan was feeling the same way.

  The long walk under the domed ceiling seemed to take a lifetime. When she reached his throne, she knelt before him, took a hold of his hand and laid her cheek upon it. It took all of her resolve not to cry. This man was home to her. He was love and safety and warmth.

  Maximus stroked the back of her head. Despite the circumstances of their separation, she had always known that he loved her very much.

  “It is good to see you, daughter.”

  She looked up into those knowing eyes and blurted, “I just killed a man.”

  “I heard.”

  “I do not regret it, father. I did what I had to do. I only regret that the citizens of Nysa had to find out about me in this way.”

  “It is unfortunate. You know how they feel about magic.”

  Kiernan narrowed her eyes. “It is how you feel about magic, father. The people follow the lead of their King.”

  King Maximus sighed in exasperation. “I do not wish to resurrect a six-year-old fight with you, Kiernan. The law is the law.”

  She decided not to pull any punches. “Magic saved your life today,” she said, referring to the thwarted attack of the assassin. “But for magic, I may be Queen right now.”

  The King snorted. “Bah! It would take more than a skulkin
g coward to send me to the Highworld!”

  Kiernan sighed as she stood, deciding to let the argument go. Her father was right. This was an old fight and one she would not soon win. She gestured behind her to the others. “Father, these are my friends, Beck Atlan, Rogan Radek, Airron Falewir and Rory Greeley.” The shifters bowed down.

  The King stood. “Please rise. As friends of Kiernan, I welcome you to Nysa. Are you all shifters?”

  All nodded affirmatively.

  Maximus looked at Beck pointedly. “Are you any good?”

  Beck look surprised, but answered the King honestly. “Yes, Your Grace. I am.”

  Maximus grinned. “Better than the young fireshifter behind you I hope. The boy could not even create a flicker of a flame when I asked him to.”

  Beck smiled and looked at Rory who had his eyes firmly on the ground. “He must have been nervous, Your Grace.”

  The King waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever the reason, he did inform me of the tragic defeat of Pyraan.” He looked at Beck and then Airron. “I am sorry for your losses. I actually had the opportunity to meet both of your parents several times over the years and found them to be very fine people.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Dark eyes glittered dangerously. “We will get these bastards, you have my word. All of Iserlohn’s soldiers are being recalled to Nysa as we speak.”

  Beck cleared his throat. “Your Grace, with all due respect, this is not a war Iserlohn can win alone. The combined might of all three lands will be needed to even stand a chance.”

  “Bah! The Scarlet Sabers and Iserlohn Army can defeat these animals. They are made of flesh and blood, are they not?”

  “Yes, but it is the Mage we are concerned about.”

  The King waved a hand. “We will discuss further at dinner this evening.”