To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2) Page 21

  Yavi grasped his brother’s wrist and pulled him closer for a one-armed hug. “Thank you, my brother.”

  “You’re welcome,” Yajna said, patting his back. “Now stop being such an ass.”

  Yavi chuckled and picked up his cloak on his way to the door. “Ladies first,” he said, motioning Yajna to go through.

  §

  Graciella was putting the final garnishes on the trays of roasted stuffed pheasant when she heard a commotion in the dining room outside the kitchen door. It sounded like guards shouting. She and Wilten hurried to see what was the matter.

  When they pushed open the kitchen door, they saw Yavi running through the dining hall in their direction. He shouted something at Wilten, who took off running toward the servants’ quarters. He grasped Graciella’s arm. “Come with me, Sheir-zin. The city is under attack. Wilten, go hide in the basement with the others.”

  Graciella let him pull her up the stairs, struggling to keep up with his pace. They headed for his wing, then ran down the hallway toward her room. He shouted orders at the two guards they passed on the way, who followed him to her bedroom door.

  He shoved open the door and pulled her inside, then grasped her arms to make her face him. His silver eyes glinted dangerously. “You stay in here, out of sight, until I come back for you. Do not open the door for anyone but me. Do you hear?”

  She nodded nervously.

  “Tor and Shor will be stationed right outside your door. Stay quiet and out of sight.”

  She nodded, then touched his stubbled cheek. “Yavi—I don’t want you to be hurt. Please be careful.”

  He grasped her hand and pressed his lips to her trembling fingers. “I will return to you in one piece, Sheir-zin. Don’t worry.”

  When he left, she barred the door, reached under her bed to retrieve the shortsword he’d given her, and knelt on the rug before the fireplace to pray.

  §

  Yavi strapped on his swords and hurried down the main staircase to join his brother and Jiandra in the Great Hall, where the rest of the palace guards were assembled.

  Jiandra rushed toward Yavi as he descended the stairs, eyes frantic. “Where’s Gracie?”

  “I took her to her room. The door is barred, and two guards are stationed in the hall. But don’t worry, sister-in-law. Those bastards won’t get past us in the streets.”

  She nodded.

  Yavi turned to his guards. “Manck’s battalion is heading this way. We need to hold the invaders off from the palace until they arrive.”

  “Who’s attacking us, Sire?” Guard Captain Harshad asked.

  “Unknown. Could be rebellion fighters—they were attacking townspeople at random. Take some prisoners so we can interrogate them. Yajna and I will clear the side streets—you keep your men in the palace district, Harshad, clearing the main thoroughfare.” Yavi glanced at Yajna.

  Yajna nodded, slinging his bow on his back. “Ready, brother.”

  “I am ready, too,” Jiandra said.

  The three of them left the palace, slipped out through the gate and into the shadows along the palace wall, then headed west toward an alleyway that led out of the palace district. Before long, the sound of screaming ahead drew their attention, and Yavi motioned Yajna and Jiandra to follow him as he ran down the alley to locate the source.

  Three Nandals dressed in peasant clothes and carrying crude daggers were attacking a shopkeeper, while his wife stood nearby screaming.

  “Cease!” Yavi shouted, drawing swords.

  The attackers looked up. “It’s the usurper!”

  Three of Yajna’s arrows flew past, each one hitting its mark, and the attackers fell dead.

  Jiandra ran to heal the bleeding wound in the shopkeeper’s stomach. “Who were these men? Where did they come from?” she asked the wife.

  “I not know, Your Highness,” the woman cried in broken Villeleian. “They come in shop, seize my husband, try to kill him here in street.”

  Yajna grasped Jiandra’s arm. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Yavi motioned them to follow him to a ladder on the side of the building, and they climbed up to run along the roofline. Soon they saw a bigger group of assailants in the square below, also dressed as peasants, trying to stab as many townspeople as they could get their hands on.

  “Brother, take out as many as you can with arrows,” Yavi said. “Jiandra, come with me.”

  He helped her climb down the side of the building they were on, dropping himself to the ground below and then reaching up to help her down to her feet. He drew his swords and motioned her to follow him. Just ahead of them, the attackers were dropping like flies with Yajna’s expert shots. Yavi headed for a large group of rebels who were surrounding a small group of Darpanians. He grabbed one attacker from behind and slit his throat, then spun and sliced the chest of the next one as he turned and lunged toward Yavi.

  The rest of the rebels screamed, “Usurper!” and turned to attack Yavi with a crazed look in their eyes. It was something akin to the look Terijin had when they’d arrested him and thrown him into the dungeon. Yavi leapt and spun, taking out three of them with a double slice of his scimitars while his brother’s arrows felled the remaining two.

  “You all right?” Jiandra shouted from behind him. “No injuries?”

  “No, nothing. These men are untrained fighters. If this is someone’s idea of a rebellion, it’s not very well executed.” Yavi lunged to take down another attacker with his blades before the man could kill a Darpanian he was dragging into the street by the neck. Once the attacker was immobilized and his captive ran free, Yavi looked around for any remaining rebels in the square.

  Yajna’s arrows had taken out all but four aggressors, and Yavi ran to make short work of them with his scimitars before motioning Jiandra to retreat with him into the shadows of the alley beside the building where Yajna’s lookout point was.

  Yajna dropped from the roof to the cobblestones next to them. “This is too easy, brother. Something’s not right. I don’t like it.”

  Yavi nodded his agreement. “Let’s head to the temple, make sure the priests are safe. Jiandra, try to read the minds of some of the attackers before we kill them this time.”

  They encountered another small group of rebellion fighters on the way, dealt with them, and paused for Jiandra to heal the wounded Darpanians before continuing on to the temple of Darpan. When they entered the courtyard, Yavi signaled Yajna to climb up to the front balcony while he and Jiandra ran around to the side. Yajna tossed up his grappling hook while Yavi and Jiandra slunk along in the shadows of the temple wall, eventually reaching a side entrance that led to the hall of the dead below the sanctuary.

  “Did you get any information from reading the thoughts of that last group?” Yavi asked while he fished in his pouch for a lockpick.

  “Only a little. I saw Uman’s face again, and what looked like that same ceremony that Terijin was involved in.”

  “Uman must have been connected to the son of Thakur and his rebellion.” Yavi used the lockpick in the keyhole. It broke. “Yajna’s better at this than I am,” he muttered as he dug in his pouch for another pick. The second try worked, and he carefully opened the door to peer inside. “It looks clear. Let’s go.”

  They slipped inside and shut the door behind them, then hurried along in the shadows against the wall until they found a staircase leading up to the main sanctuary. He motioned to Jiandra to stay close behind while he ascended, wanting to gain the surprise advantage over any attackers inside the temple. At the top of the stairs, all was still. Yavi started down the main aisle, scanning under the benches for any sign of rebels hiding.

  The front doors burst open, and a group of fighters rushed in. Yavi drew his swords and motioned Jiandra to stay back.

  “Usurper!” the attacker in front screamed, and the eight or so others behind him started running down the wide aisle.

  “You defile a temple of Tejeshwar!” Yavi thundered at them, brandishing his swords. “Have y
ou no respect for what’s holy?”

  Their leader threw back his head, a strange-sounding cackle erupting from his throat before he lunged at Yavi with his shortsword. Yavi cut him down easily with a cross-slice, then spun and killed two more who ran up from behind the leader. Yavi flipped his swords and cut down the next attacker, then leapt and spun to kill two more.

  When they were all dead, Jiandra hurried to check on him. “Whew. None of them even came close to cutting you.”

  “Let’s find the priests.”

  “We are here, Mahaj,” a voice behind them called out.

  Yavi turned to see the priest and his apprentice emerging from a cabinet near the altar at the front of the sanctuary. They rose to their full height and bowed their heads.

  Yavi inclined his head to them as well. “I will send help to clean up these bodies as soon as we quell the rebellion.”

  He and Jiandra rushed out the front doors. In the street below, another group of rebels was running toward the temple, but arrows were catching them left and right. Yavi leapt forward to finish off the last three of the group with his swords, then looked up at his brother. Yajna was leaning over the side of the bell tower with his bow. He slung it onto his back, jumped off the roof into a swan dive, tucked his knees, and landed in a roll on a thatched roof. He flipped himself off the overhang and landed on his feet in a crouch before joining them.

  Yavi led the way toward the main market square. Manck’s soldiers had arrived and were fighting off a sizeable crowd of rebels. Yavi made eye contact with Yajna, then glanced up at the roof of the row of shops nearby. Yajna tossed up his grappling hook, then scaled the side of the building. From the roof, he began shooting arrows at the attackers below.

  Yavi surveyed the crowd, looking for any sign of a leader, this supposed son of Thakur. “Manck!” he shouted at his general above the din. “Capture some prisoners!”

  Manck nodded, then shouted something to Terthan, who was fighting on his right. Terthan seized the rebel nearest him, attempting to restrain his hands behind his back. Yavi watched as the man struggled viciously to pull away. As Terthan held on and tried to wrench his dagger out of his hand, the man suddenly stabbed himself in the neck with it.

  Terthan let his body fall, then glanced back at Yavi, spreading his hands in confusion.

  Yavi frowned. Exactly what sort of cult was this?

  §

  Once they had cleared the streets, homes, and shops of the remaining rebellion fighters and secured the city gates, Yavi and his brother met with Manck and Terthan in the main square.

  “Have your men stand guard overnight in the city in case there is a second wave,” Yavi ordered. “My palace guards will retreat to the palace and stand watch there.”

  “Yes, Sire.” General Manck and Captain Terthan bowed.

  “Report to us in the morning before you retreat,” Yajna added.

  “Yes, Sire.”

  Yavi and his brother headed back toward the palace district on foot, stopping so Jiandra could heal several injured Darpanians along the way. As they approached the palace gate, Captain Harshad came forward to greet them.

  “Mahaj, we were unable to take any prisoners. The few we caught alive killed themselves to avoid being taken captive.”

  Yavi nodded. “The rebels we encountered did the same. Remain on high alert through the night, and report to us immediately if there is any sign of more attacks. We don’t know how large the rebellion army is, nor where their so-called leader may be hiding if he’s still alive.”

  “Yes, Sire.”

  The guards opened the gate for them to pass through, and Yavi hurried across the courtyard and up the steps to the main entrance of the palace. He was eager to see Graciella’s sweet face, let her know he was all right.

  When he arrived at his wing and turned the corner, he stopped in his tracks at what he found. Tor and Shor lay slain on the floor outside her door. He hurried closer to inspect, and saw what looked like gruesome animal bites on their faces and torsos, large chunks of flesh missing, and blood pooling on the stone floor. He looked up at Graciella’s bedroom door. It was cracked open, and he rushed inside.

  She was gone.

  §

  Graciella struggled to calm her racing heartbeat, breathing hard against the gag the two creatures had tied around her mouth. She had no idea where they were taking her, since they’d stuffed her inside a crate on the back of a cart and nailed the lid shut, but they’d been traveling for hours over bumpy roads. In the past several minutes the terrain had grown even more uneven, and she could hear the wheels of the cart crunching over snow, dried leaves, and twigs.

  She didn’t know what her two kidnappers were, but they were definitely not human. They had solid black disks for eyes, and their pale faces were cracked and broken here and there with jagged red scars as if the skin was stretched too tightly or peeling away from their skulls. Their leering grins revealed sharp, blackened teeth dripping with fresh blood.

  They hadn’t said anything to her. They’d simply broken the door down, stared her up and down, then lunged forward to grab her before she’d had a chance to use any of the sword-attack techniques Yavi had taught her. She’d been too caught off guard by their grisly appearance to react quick enough. They had tossed her sword to the stone floor, gagged her, lashed her wrists and ankles together with ropes, and carried her past her dead guards down a back staircase and outside the palace. They hauled her past a couple more guards’ corpses and out the back gate, where they had the cart waiting.

  Since they had taken her alive, she figured they were planning to use her as bait to entrap the emperors. No doubt they were involved with the rebellion somehow. Graciella prayed that the twins and her sister were all right, and that they’d find her soon. Clinging to the hope of a rescue, she waited for the long, frightening ride to come to an end.

  When at last the cart came to a stop, Graciella heard movement, things shifting around on the cart, and then the sound of a tool being used to pry the crate open. Splinters of wood showered down over the side of her face and her bare arm.

  Moonlight streamed in as the creatures tossed the lid of the crate aside. The taller one muttered something to the other in Nandalan as they untied her ankles and scooped her out of the crate, setting her on her feet on the ground. The tall one grasped her arm in a vise-like grip, pointing and saying something to his accomplice about the cart. The accomplice bowed, then led the horses toward the trees nearby while Graciella’s captor took her to what looked like a dilapidated tower.

  Relief washed over her at seeing the structure—the twins had been on the right trail to suspect something about an abandoned tower. They would surely be able to find her here soon. The creature led her through an archway into what remained of the bottom floor of the tower, pulled her with him between two stone pillars, and shoved aside a broken door, leaving it leaning against the wall nearby. Behind it was a dark entrance that led down a musty staircase. She struggled to keep up with the creature’s pace and not trip on the stairs as he dragged her inside with him. They descended into the stale darkness for several minutes, lower and lower into the dungeon.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he pushed open a heavy wooden door and dragged her into a large room lit with torches, shoving her toward the center. She managed to maintain her footing, then whirled around to face him.

  “At last we meet, younger Stovy sister,” he snarled in Villeleian. His voice was gravelly, demonic; his sinister grin stretched his sinewy cheek muscles taut, adding to the appearance of a half-decayed corpse. “Graciella, I believe?”

  Graciella couldn’t speak due to the gag, so she just glared at him. He had wiry gray hair slicked back into a low ponytail, and wore thick black leather armor. The neck of his cloak was held together with chains that were fastened to his shoulders with iron brooches that looked like little half-skulls with glowing rubies for eyes.

  “Come, I have special accommodations for you.” He grabbed her arm to drag her t
hrough an archway on the left and down the hall. He shoved open a door and led her inside a chamber containing iron cages and other torture devices. It reeked of rotted carcasses and filth, and her eyes stung at the putrid aroma.

  As her captor pulled her toward the shackles on the far wall, her heart pounded. Hurry, Yavi. Lord Zehu, please send him, and quickly!

  §

  Yavi rushed into the hallway outside Graciella’s room, tears of rage stinging his eyes, his gut twisting painfully. Yajna and Jiandra ran to meet him, stopping to gape at the mutilated bodies of the guards.

  “Where’s my sister?” Jiandra cried.

  “She’s gone.” Yavi’s voice was hoarse. “I’m leaving now to track her down.”

  “I’m going with you,” she insisted.

  “No, Mahitha. You will slow me down.”

  “What if you or she need healing?” she protested.

  “You and Yajna can follow if you like, but I’m not slowing down for you. I’m leaving now.” He turned to follow the tracks of blood that pointed to the far end of the hall. He ran to the rear staircase, exited the back of the palace, and saw the same type of boot print in the muddy snow. It was pointing toward the southern gate.

  He sprinted to the stable to get Sikar. Yajna and Jiandra caught up with him there.

  “My best guess is that tower in Faril,” Yavi said over his shoulder as he threw on and secured his saddle. “I’ll bet there are tracks going that direction outside the gate. Don’t try to slow me down.”

  “No, brother. Fly. We will track you and follow,” Yajna assured him.

  Yavi gave him a nod as he mounted Sikar, kicking him into a gallop out of the stable.

  His gate guards saw him coming and swung open the gate. Outside, Yavi scanned the ground for any sign of tracks. Seeing something, he dismounted to inspect closer. They’d had a cart and two horses. The direction of the tracks led down to Ularian Road, heading east.