Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, #5) - K.F. Breene Page 0,16

more inexperienced. It’ll be fine.”

Ruisa hadn’t been his choice, either. It had been Burson’s.

“We’re ready, sir.” Sanders threw a leg over his horse’s saddle.

Cayan braced. There were so many ways this could go wrong.

He looked at the men and women lining the walls. The Shadow he was leaving behind stood firm and ready, their power unyielding and their viciousness unmatched. They’d protect this land as their own—hearing Sonson speaking with them had confirmed that. Their home would be protected.

Cayan had to make a move. There was no other way.

“Let’s hope there’s no one waiting just outside our mental range.” Cayan looked up at Commander Sterling, who was watching for Cayan’s signal. Cayan nodded.

“Open the gates!” Sterling put his hand in the air for the archers.

“He’s testing you,” Shanti said for what seemed like the millionth time in the last two days. “He’s waiting to see how long it’ll take you to engage.”

“Xandre couldn’t possibly be willing to sacrifice this many men.” Cayan tightened his grip on the reins.

“We only saw one higher-ranked officer. Just one. I bet these men aren’t his best stock.” Shanti stared down at her horse again. “I never thought I’d be sorry that I had complete control of a horse. It’s boring.”

“The things you bitch about,” Sanders growled.

A wave of expectation assaulted Cayan as they waited. Horses started to fidget. The grind of the gate echoed off the buildings behind them.

“No movement,” Sterling said from the wall.

The enemy minds that were awake remained idle. They obviously couldn’t see the gates opening, and without mental ability, they couldn’t feel Cayan’s people gearing up.

“Strike fast, kill quickly.” Shanti took her sword from its sheath. “If there is someone waiting beyond our range, we don’t want to be half-dead with fatigue when we face them.”

A flare of ready came from the south gate, followed quickly with the west.

“Why is Sayas’ team taking so long?” Shanti turned as if she could see across the city.

The last flare filled Cayan’s awareness. “Move out!” He urged his horse forward, walking until he was out of the gate, and then started to trot.

Shanti fell behind immediately.

“Kick its sides!” Sanders shouted.

“I did!”

“S’am, you’re doing it wrong!” Gracas said.

Bursts of what Cayan could only describe as realization rose up from the enemy, followed by confusion, rage, thrill, and action. This was not a synchronized army, but they knew battle was coming. Right now.

“Charge!” Cayan shouted, sword in hand.

Shanti was beside him a moment later, and the others fanned out behind. Trees whipped by as the enemy scrambled, probably only starting to realize what was happening when it was too late. The thunder of hooves soon competed with shouts and yells as they penetrated the beginning of the enemy lines.

An arrow zipped by from behind before striking a black uniform mid-chest. Another caught an enemy in the arm. Up ahead the Graygual camp was a frenzy of activity, men stuffing their arms into protective tunics as they rushed for their horses, while others ran forward with bows in hand.

“Cut ’em down!” Cayan burst into the center of their camp with his sword already in motion. He sliced through a black uniform as his Gift rolled before him, not strong enough to kill, but enough to immobilize. Men screamed. More power struck to the sound of louder screams, making men sink to the ground.

“Take them out,” Shanti yelled as she jumped from her horse. She descended on a cowering group who held their heads in agony. Rohnan dropped down beside her, his staff twirling in his hands.

Cayan directed his horse through the tents, catching a man with two stripes as he ran. Two more sprinted away, one with his shirt only half on. They were not preparing to fight—they were running for their lives. These must’ve been the militia Kallon was talking about.

A figure jumped out from behind a tent with an arrow swinging upward. Cayan kicked his horse, making it lurch forward, trampling the man. He took his own bow and nocked an arrow before turning in his saddle, away from the running men. He loosed toward someone with three stripes running at one of the Shadow’s backs.

His horse neighed as Cayan tugged the reins to the right, running out of the cluster of tents, aiming for another group. He released an arrow, catching a man running at him on a finely bred horse. To his right, a man fell from his saddle, an arrow in the side of his neck. Alena emerged from the trees,