The Omaja Stone Read online

  Yavi nodded. “Good plan.”

  “So stop killing them so fast.”

  “As you wish, Mahitha,” he grinned. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Yavi took the lead as they made their way along a city street, following the line of burning houses and shops, staying to the shadows. The streets were littered with slain Caladians—men, women, and children. They also saw dead Caladian guards strewn here and there, and the occasional body of a Black Army soldier.

  They heard multiple screams in the distance.

  Yavi pointed. “It’s coming from that direction. There’s a thick cloud of smoke billowing up.”

  Jiandra followed his line of vision. “There might be survivors. We should hurry.”

  Yajna readied his bow. “Someone is coming. Move back.”

  A Nandalan soldier came into view in the distance, heading toward the south gate.

  “Wait,” Jiandra whispered to Yajna, gripping the Omaja in her hand. She focused Knowing on the soldier for a moment. “All right.”

  Yajna’s arrow flew and hit its mark. The soldier fell dead, and Yajna looked down at her. “What did you see?”

  “The Black Armies march southward at dawn. He was going to inform the gate guards.”

  “Where is Thakur?” Yavi asked.

  “I don’t know. His thoughts were on his immediate mission. But he must be nearby, as you two suspected.”

  “Let’s go,” Yavi whispered. Just as he stepped out of the shadows, an arrow zinged past, followed closely by a second that struck his shoulder. He staggered back.

  Yajna caught his brother under the arms, and dragged him back against the shopfront where they had been hiding in the shadows.

  “Get the arrow out,” Jiandra whispered, readying the Omaja for Healing.

  Yavi grimaced as Yajna grasped the arrow with both hands, worked it back and forth to loosen the head, and wrenched it free. Jiandra laid her hand over the torn leather and healed the wound underneath it while Yajna readied an arrow, scanning the rooftops for the archers. Spotting one of them leaping from the roof down to a thatched overhang, he shot an arrow that sank into the man’s chest, taking him down. The second archer shot back, but Yajna stepped out of the way and the arrow struck a doorpost. Yajna strung another arrow and aimed; it struck the archer in the neck, and he plummeted to the street.

  Yavi grinned at Jiandra as he pushed himself to his feet. “He did not have to miss your queen.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” She glanced up at Yajna’s handsome face, and he smiled down at her.

  They scurried across the street into the shadows on the opposite side, heading toward the sound of wailing and screaming in the distance. They kept close to the shopfronts until at last they reached the town center. An overflowing Nandal stockade was there, and a two-story prison behind it was on fire. The captives who stood packed in the overflow yard shrank away from the flames and the bits of burning timber and masonry that plummeted to the ground, screaming and desperately clawing at the tall spiked fence surrounding the yard. A patrol of eight Black Army soldiers was guarding the stockade, watching as their countrymen screamed and burned.

  Jiandra was horrified. “They have no pity on their own people?”

  Yavi’s jaw tightened. “To the emperor and the Black Armies, Nandals who take refuge in Villeleia are traitors, worse than dogs.”

  “Let’s get them out, brother.” Yajna readied his bow.

  “How many guards can you take down before the others react?”

  “Three. The two on the right, and the one off by himself near the crier post.”

  “Mahitha, stay here. As soon as he kills the two on the right, I will rush them.”

  “I am protected by the stone. I can run behind you and heal you if you get hurt.”

  Yavi met Yajna’s gaze, then nodded to her. “All right.”

  Jiandra drew her dagger, pulse pounding. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the panic-stricken crowd of Nandals, men pounding on the stockade fences and women holding their children clutched to their chests.

  Yajna readied his bow, and two arrows shot forth, each hitting its mark. As he strung the third arrow, Yavi charged forward with both blades flashing. Jiandra followed, ready to heal or fight if necessary. As they reached the Black Army soldiers, Yavi stabbed, leapt, spun, slicing throats, legs, arms. One soldier managed to hack into Yavi’s thigh, and he staggered back. An arrow zinged past and hit the soldier’s eye socket, killing him instantly. Jiandra knelt to heal Yavi’s leg while Yajna leapt forward with his dagger to make sure the remaining soldiers were dead or incapacitated.

  The prisoners screamed at them in both Nandalan and Villeleian. “Help us! Free us!”

  Yajna shouted back, “Where is the key to the gate?”

  “One of the fallen Caladian guards has it!” someone cried over the noise of the blazing fire and the cries of the other prisoners. “We don’t know which one!”

  There were several corpses in the area wearing Caladian armor. Yavi yelled at Jiandra and Yajna, “Search! Go!”

  They ran from guard to guard, and within seconds Yajna stood up holding a key ring in his hand. Yavi bellowed something at the prisoners in Nandalan, and they stood back while Yajna unlocked the padlocked chains holding the gate closed. Once the chains fell away, the twins yanked the gates open and prisoners came pouring forth, leaping over bodies and debris. Some fled the scene, disappearing down alleyways and behind the shops, but a sizeable group of them lingered behind, crowding around Jiandra and the twins.

  A familiar-looking old man stepped closer to Yavi, excitedly speaking Nandalan.

  “What is he saying?” Jiandra asked Yajna.

  “He thinks Yavi is me. He recognizes him and you from the abandoned cabin.”

  “Yes, yes,” a woman chimed in, in Villeleian. “I was also in that cart wreck with my son here. I remember you. You saved our lives!”

  “They are twin sons of the house of Zulfikar!” another old man shouted to the crowd. “Our rightful kings!”

  The throng stared at them, the ones in back craning their necks to see, little boys and girls peering out cautiously from behind the adults’ legs.

  The old man dropped to his knees at their feet. “Hail the true Princes of Nandala!”

  Yavi and Yajna stood still as the ragged crowd of refugees knelt before them.

  Yajna looked at her. “Jiandra, will you heal their injuries?”

  “Yes, Yajna. Absolutely.”

  He issued some commands in Nandalan, and the injured quickly formed a line in front of her. With Yajna translating where necessary, she moved along the row of people as quickly as she could, healing broken bones, coughs, cuts, bruises, burns, a crushed foot, fevers and chills, and other sicknesses and injuries. Yavi busied himself gathering any information he could from the men about what had happened in Caladia and the whereabouts of Thakur.

  When Yajna and Jiandra were finished, they rejoined Yavi.

  Several of the refugees grouped around him. “We will fight Thakur with you, Mahaj.”

  “It’s too dangerous.” Yavi shook his head. “You need weapons and armor, and we have none.”

  “We can take armor and weapons from the bodies here.”

  “Have any of you trained in warfare?”

  Some of the men raised their hands.

  “I have not trained, but I can swing a sword,” one young man protested. “I want to fight beside you, Mahaj. We want to bring down Thakur. It would be an honorable death for us.”

  Yavi quickly scanned the buildings and rooftops around the town square. “Another Black Army patrol could arrive at any moment. Those of you without wives or children, gather what you can find. We’ll stand lookout. Hurry.”

  The Nandal men scattered eagerly to loot the bodies in the area.

  In a moment, Yavi’s worry was confirmed as a group of five Black Army soldiers came running from an alleyway into the open square toward them, swords drawn. Several of the refugees had already dr
essed themselves in bits and pieces of armor; they quickly gathered around Yavi and Yajna to face the incoming patrol, brandishing the swords and daggers they’d found.

  The patrol halted, seeing they were facing about fifteen armed rebels, not just two.

  “Who are you?” the leader shouted across the distance.

  “These are our rightful kings!” one of the refugees shouted. “We follow the sons of Zulfikar!”

  “The Zulfikar house was defeated long ago, fool,” the leader snarled back. “They were too weak to rule Nandala.”

  Yajna readied his bow, fixing his steely gaze on the leader. “Come and defeat us now, then.”

  The armed refugees behind him crouched, swords ready.

  The leader of the patrol paused a moment, then he retreated the way he’d come with his patrol close behind him. Once they were out of sight, the refugees cheered.

  “They will get more soldiers and return soon.” Yajna re-slung his bow on his back. “Hurry, men. We have little time.”

  The refugees finished scavenging for weapons, armor, and coins. Soon, they formed a determined little army of about thirty men, dressed in mismatched armor and wielding swords of various sizes and shapes. They gazed at the twins with what Jiandra recognized as a mixture of hope and pride.

  Yavi shouted, “We will fight together, my brothers. For Nandala!”

  “For Nandala!” they shouted back, fists in the air.

  Jiandra smiled at Yajna. He met her gaze with tears in his eyes, and grinned.

  THIRTY-TWO

  “We should get the women, children, and elderly to a safe place before we leave. Ask them if anyone knows of a place nearby where they can hide for a few days.”

  Yajna translated Jiandra’s words to the crowd.

  An older woman spoke up in Villeleian. “I work as housekeeper in a large house here in town, just a few blocks away. It has a roomy basement well-stocked with food and supplies, enough to sustain us for a few days at least. The owner was the town physician.”

  Jiandra grasped Yajna’s arm. “I have been to the house she speaks of. It’s a few streets north, not far from the northern gate of Caladia. If the physician is alive, perhaps he will take them in. If not, perhaps we can get inside and hide them there. It’s worth a try.”

  Yavi ordered the armed refugees to flank either side of the tattered group of women and elderly, and stationed a small patrol at the rear. They moved the group out of the square, with Jiandra guiding the way to the physician’s house.

  When they arrived, she was relieved to see that the houses on that street still stood. She and the housekeeper dashed up the steps to the physician’s door, banging on it. They waited, but there was no answer. Jiandra tried the door. It opened.

  “Hello? Doctor?” She darted into his examination room, then back out and down a hallway. The physician was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he’d escaped, she hoped. She turned back to the Nandal housekeeper. “Where’s the door to the basement?”

  “This way, milady.” The housekeeper led her through a series of rooms and to a door near the back of the house. She threw it open to reveal a staircase leading down.

  Jiandra hurried down the steps. “Doctor, are you down here? Hello?”

  Nothing. She turned to the housekeeper. “Run and get the others.”

  #

  “Eat quickly, men,” Yavi ordered as they dug into the doctor’s stores of corn, cantaloupe, dried beef, and apples, sitting in groups on the cold stone floor of the basement.

  Yajna pulled Jiandra with him to a bench in a corner of the basement behind some shelving, carrying a dusty bottle of wine he’d found in a cabinet there. He pulled the cork, took a drink, then passed the bottle to her.

  She sipped, then leaned toward him. “Princess,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Quvira,” he whispered back, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “Beautiful and brave.”

  “Yajna, if we survive this—”

  “I want to be with you.”

  She studied the loving expression in his exotic silver eyes. “I want to be with you, too. I don’t want to lose you again. But how—?”

  He sipped the wine and passed it back to her. “I will find a way for us to be together, Jiandra. I swear it.”

  She took a deep breath and drank a little more of the wine, her gaze dropping to his firm, sexy lips. He took the bottle from her hand and set it aside, then pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. Stubble from a couple days’ beard growth brushed her cheeks softly, and she reached up to stroke his jaw with her fingers. His kiss tasted of the dark berry wine as his tongue pushed past her lips. His hand slid down over her leather-clad hip, and around it to caress her buttock.

  Yavi’s voice called out on the other side of the shelving. “Men, gather around. It’s time to go.”

  Yajna reluctantly ended the kiss and gazed down at Jiandra’s heated face, his breathing as unsteady as hers. He stood and pulled her to her feet. They stepped out into the open and joined the group.

  Yavi addressed the men. “No one is obligated to join us in this fight; only those who understand and accept the risks should go.”

  “Mahaj, if I may speak.” One of the Nandals stepped forward and bowed. “We survived the dangerous trek into Villeleia in order to seek a better life in a sometimes-hostile foreign land. We are accustomed to accepting risk.”

  “Point taken,” Yavi replied. “For those of you who are staying behind, I am leaving Radur in charge.” He indicated the old man who had recognized Yajna from the cart wreck.

  Radur bowed to Yavi, obviously pleased to be entrusted with responsibility.

  Yavi continued. “Stay out of sight and ration out the food and supplies carefully. If we are successful in battle, we will send word to you. If you do not hear anything in three days, assume that we are dead or captured, and flee the city to look for another place to hide in the western hills of Villeleia. Do not go south or east, or you may run into battle.” He placed a hand on Radur’s shoulder. “We are leaving what swords we can spare for you and the others to be able to defend yourselves if need be. Tejeshwar guide you, my good man.”

  Radur bowed again. “Tejeshwar guide you, Mahaj.”

  Yavi motioned to the others. The men gathered their weapons and followed him up the stairs and out of the basement, with Jiandra and Yajna behind them.

  They emerged from the house cautiously, then headed up the street toward the north gate. Suddenly a Black Army archer appeared in the distance, running toward them.

  Yavi and his men drew swords, and Yajna reached for his bow.

  “No! Wait!” The soldier held up his empty hands. “I wish to join you!” He dropped to his knees before Yavi and Yajna, panting.

  Yajna glanced at his brother. “He might be a spy.”

  “No, no, I swear I am not. I hate Thakur. Many of us do. When Lek reported back that there was a Nandal rebellion forming in Caladia, I escaped the camp to join you.”

  “Did he report this rebellion to Thakur?” Yavi demanded.

  “Yes, Mahaj. Thakur is mustering his troops and preparing to meet you in the field north of Caladia.”

  “Then you would be a fool to join us now.” Yavi motioned toward the thirty or so men behind him. “You see that we are few.”

  “I swear my fealty to you upon my own life. Let me fight and die with you.”

  Yajna glanced over his shoulder at Jiandra. “Read his mind. Is he a spy?”

  Jiandra gripped the Omaja in her right hand and focused Knowing on the soldier, while the man’s gaze darted desperately from her face to the twins’ and back. She saw the information she was looking for. “He despises Thakur. There is loyalty in his heart toward you and Yavi. He is telling the truth.”

  Yavi addressed the soldier. “What are you called?”

  “Shardul.”

  Yavi stuck out a hand to help him up. “The Tiger. Rise, Shardul. Let us hope that you live up to your name.”

  Shardul stood,
grinning. He motioned with his hand. “Use caution approaching the north gate. A patrol of ten warriors is stationed outside.”

  “Do they have archers?”

  “Not to my knowledge, Mahaj.”

  Yavi turned to the group. “Yajna, you and Shardul climb the wall and pick off as many of the soldiers on the other side as you can. When some of them are down, signal me, and the rest of us will rush the gate with swords. Jiandra should stay with us on the ground so she can heal the injured. If you agree, brother.”

  Yajna nodded. He motioned Shardul to follow him, and they ducked between two rows of houses, heading for the base of the city wall.

  Jiandra and the others followed Yavi to the gate, staying to the shadows of the houses and shops. When they were close enough, Yavi halted the group and positioned himself where he could see Yajna and Shardul scaling the wall.

  Jiandra watched anxiously as Yajna reached the top and slipped effortlessly over the ledge, moving with the grace of a panther. Shardul was close behind; they retrieved their rope, then moved into position to aim their arrows down at the patrol on the other side of the wall. Jiandra and the rest of the group waited in silent anticipation.

  After a moment, Yajna’s face appeared over the ledge. He made a hand signal to Yavi.

  “Let’s go.” Yavi motioned the group to follow.

  They ran to the gate. Yavi and another man reached up and yanked the huge doors open. The remaining Black Army soldiers turned and leapt over the corpses of those slain with arrows, rushing the opening gate with swords drawn. Yavi and his men charged them full force, and although the Black Army soldiers were better trained and equipped, the refugees mowed them down with numbers and determination.

  Yavi stood over one of the Black Army soldiers, about to slice his throat with crisscrossed scimitars. The man held up his hands in a plea.

  “Yavi, wait!” he choked. “Yavi, it’s me, Terthan. Do you remember me? We served together in the Assassin Army. I wish to join you against Thakur. I can still fight, if you bandage me up.”

  “I remember you.” Yavi looked over his shoulder at Jiandra. “Mahitha, I need you. Should I let him join us?”