Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, #5) - K.F. Breene Page 0,64
the horses passed, she plowed through the foliage and wrenched the horses’ minds. Their eyes rolled before they screamed. Hooves flashed out as Shadow and Shumas burst from the side.
The driver recoiled, half cowering. A moment later he reached toward his feet, coming back with an ornate blade.
“That’s enough for me,” Shanti said. She threw her knife. The blade stuck in his gut as Denessa jumped up onto his bench. She raked her knife across his throat and pushed him out of the way. She grabbed the reins and pulled back to steady them while Sonson ripped open the coach door. A hard blast of mental power singed him before filtering through their merge. The power was sucked in and fought, Sonson easily putting down the attack.
A moment later, two men and a woman were torn from the coach interior. They wore stern expressions and more wealth than Shanti had ever seen on a person.
“Bandits don’t fare well in this part of the land,” the lady said with an air of superiority.
It took Shanti a moment to realize she was speaking in the traders’ dialect.
“Neither do Graygual,” Shanti said in the woman’s native tongue.
The woman sneered and haughtily looked at the man standing beside her. “They learn a new language and think they can rule the land.”
“You are not afraid of dying?” Shanti asked, walking closer.
The woman sniffed, refusing to look directly at any of her captors. “Why, because you have a wilder among you?” She laughed. “You have already committed yourself to a public hanging. Do you also want your family, your children, your friends, and your entire town burnt alive?” The woman sneered before finally meeting Shanti’s gaze. Her face froze as she formed her next word. Her body became rigid and all the blood drained from her face.
“You have already killed my family, my friends, and burnt my entire town. And, as I am sure you know by now, we are not wilders.” Rage boiled within Shanti, who realized that this was one of the social elite among the Graygual. She had thrown lavish parties for officers to celebrate their victories. She had probably dined at the same table as the Hunter, and maybe even bowed and gushed over meeting Xandre. She was filth, and disgusting, but she didn’t have blood on her hands. Not directly.
“You are right, though. I am not going to kill you.” Shanti slowly put away her blade. “But I am going to strip you of everything you hold dear. And no, I am not so stupid as to think you care for anything that breathes.”
She glanced at Sonson. “Do as we planned. Take their money, clothes, and horses. Tie them up and put them in the farmer’s house. I imagine he’ll come back before we leave. If not…maybe he never will. We’ll just have to hope he can read.”
“Why is that?” Sonson asked.
She frowned at him. “Because we’re going to leave a note.” Shanti ran her hand along the horse to quiet him before looking over the coach. At the opened door, she saw the lush leather seats and the dead Inkna in the corner. At the back, she fingered the locked trunk before tracing along its seams. “Let’s see what’s in this.”
“What are you thinking?” Kallon asked.
“Besides the wealth in this carriage that will be distributed to the poor people in this land?” She grinned, standing back and looking at the carriage again. “This is an entry ticket right to the highest officer of this city. The question is, how can we best use it to our advantage?”
“Wait!” Ruisa yanked on Maggie’s arm and dragged her to the ground. Crouching behind three barrels outside an inn, she retrieved the map from the pouch tied around her neck. “We need to get our bearings.”
Maggie, breathing heavily from exertion, hunkered down beside Ruisa.
“Alena’s not an idiot,” Ruisa said, tapping the rear gate. “She’ll know to head there.”
“She’s never been in a big city before. She’ll probably get lost.”
“You haven’t either. What makes you better than her?”
“I’m with you.” Maggie wiped her hair off her forehead. “But you’re right. There’s nothing for it now. There’s no way we’re going to figure out which way she ran.”
“Bloody Inkna,” Ruisa murmured, looking over the barrel at the back door of the inn. A small engraved wooden sign read, Honey Beaver. “Oh ew, this isn’t an inn. It’s a brothel.”
Maggie pushed up to glance at the sign before leaning toward her and the map. “We’ll probably run