Page 17 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame (Fated for Hael #1)

Returning from the stream, Cahra’s conversation with Terryl lingered in her mind.

She found herself replaying his words, his smile, the intensity of his blue goldstone eyes; like solitaires, so dazzling.

And he supported her, making her feel warm despite the briskness of the Wilds.

She did worry about Raiden though. Terryl’s Captain didn’t seem to like her.

She sighed and pressed on, then froze. Something echoed from behind, in the trees to her left. She hesitated, doubting her ears, but then it came again: the unmistakable clash of metal on metal. Of an armed skirmish.

Raiden .

Without a second thought, Cahra took off in his direction.

Her senses, honed from years of living with fear at one shoulder, death at the other, pinpointed the fight easily.

She crouched and stole towards it, boots muted on the springy moss, looking from behind a shrub to see Raiden battling three soldiers.

Despite years of smithing, Cahra had seen few sword fights in her life.

But she understood the truth of Terryl’s words, the courage and control in Raiden’s powerful strikes.

He was skilled, twisting and slashing to deliver cuts with speed.

But the Captain still fought three foes, each unwilling to go quietly.

Cahra shifted her weight, an unseen twig cracking underfoot – then, cursing, she grabbed the nearest bough and swung to climb into the tree.

One of the soldiers Raiden was battling turned, but before the man could investigate, Raiden took advantage, forcing his attention.

Peering down at them, Cahra released a breath, then realised an archer was concealed in the undergrowth, a crossbow trained on Raiden.

She heard a grunt, glimpsing the Captain.

He was hurt. She watched in horror as he faltered, pulling a slip of a knife from his side and hurling it, hitting his opponent in the throat with a dull thack. The dark ripple of red followed.

But the move cost Raiden. The crossbow now had a straight shot.

As he fought to dispose of the two soldiers still standing, the man below Cahra stilled for his attempt.

Then she was running, sprinting the last few steps to the branch’s narrow end – and jumped, plummeting from the lofty tree, her weight the brawn of a blacksmith.

Right onto the soldier with the crossbow.

The force of the impact reverberated through Cahra’s legs and she gritted her teeth, hunching like a beast as she bit down on the shooting pain that rocked her knees and ankles.

Feeling movement, she sprung from the man’s back, gripped a fallen branch, then whirled and swung with all her might. The wood dropped him like a stone.

Raiden stared, recovering quickly to dispatch first one then the other combatant, a spray of blood signifying the final felling. He approached her.

‘I take it they’re…’ Cahra trailed off.

He gave a curt nod, studying the man unconscious at her feet. ‘That was unexpected.’ Raiden stared at her.

‘I’ll say,’ she told him. ‘Who are they? Why did they attack you?’ Cahra gave him a look. ‘Or did you attack them?’

‘Of course not.’ He scowled, then paused. ‘Look at their insignias.’

Cahra gazed at the only kingdom crest she knew. ‘They’re Kolyath,’ she whispered. Her eyes flew to Raiden. ‘Surely—’

‘We took a risk, stopping this early. One we won’t be taking again.

’ His eyes flashed to their lone captive.

‘But we may extract some answers yet.’ Raiden’s jaw tightened as he yanked the dagger he’d thrown from his victim’s neck, sliding a glance to Cahra.

‘Please. Get the lord to his guards,’ he said quietly.

‘I will,’ she promised, glancing down at the unconscious soldier as she turned to go.

Raiden’s iron eyes narrowed. ‘I won’t be long.’

A shiver slithered down her spine at the menace in his voice.

Leaving the dead behind, Cahra staggered as fast as she could back to the little glade.

Hearing Terryl’s people, she sighed with relief as she broke through the low-lying shrubs and into the open.

Terryl looked up from his plate and, seeing her – dishevelled and limping – dropped his crockery and hastened to cover the distance, Siarl and Piet at his side, his people falling into formation.

Queran and a second archer broke from them, darting towards her.

‘Raiden,’ she called, puffing and pointing, Queran nodding as he ran.

‘What happened? You’re hurt,’ Terryl said, brow creased as he signalled for aid.

Cahra shook her head. ‘It’s nothing,’ she told him. ‘But Raiden was attacked. He’s dealing with the survivor.’ Siarl flicked a glance to Piet before peeling away from him, unsheathing one of her long daggers. She trailed Queran into the woods.

Piet moved closer to Terryl. ‘We must leave,’ Piet said, watching the clearing’s edges. Everyone was primed for threats now.

‘Not until Raiden returns,’ Terryl instructed. The look on the lord’s face was enough to silence whatever argument was brewing.

Cahra stepped towards him, forcing her breaths to slow. ‘Piet is right. We need to go.’ As Terryl turned on her, she said, ‘There was a soldier with a crossbow, from Kolyath.’

At that, Piet looked ready to knock Terryl on the head and toss him over one shoulder, anything to get him back to the coach.

‘Very well,’ Terryl said, face darkening.

Piet nodded to her. She smiled, then quickened her pace, following.

Terryl climbed into the coach, his horsemen ready to launch into a gallop. Cahra stood, Piet taking point on the side closest to the clearing.

‘What are you doing, Cahra? Get in,’ Terryl said.

‘In a minute.’ She narrowed her eyes, listening, sensing, for anything, any kind of sound or change in the air around them.

Annoyance flickered in Terryl’s gaze as he said to her, ‘Cahra, you’re not a warrior.

’ The lord took a measured breath, trying again.

‘I understand your wish to contribute, I do. However, if you are truly the prophecy’s omen-bringer, then your protection is important.

’ Terryl let his words hang in the silence.

‘Please,’ he urged, ‘get in the carriage.’

The concern for Raiden was all over Terryl’s face, so she’d forgive his tone, this once. Climbing into the coach, she positioned herself by the other window, sitting Terryl back and out of sight as she kept watch.

‘I told Raiden I’d find you,’ she murmured, reaching out with every sense she had, scanning for danger.

‘Well, you did,’ Terryl conceded, his stern expression relaxing as it lingered on her, Cahra rubbing her injured knee. ‘I am as safe as I am going to get.’

She just nodded.

‘You’re hurt,’ he said again, his tone of gentle concern.

She turned and looked down at her knee through the rips in her trouser leg. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I fell is all. Nothing broken, it’ll just swell a bit.’

‘Here.’ Terryl patted his seat. ‘I am told that elevation is required for such injuries.’ She went to argue, unable to consider plunking one of her muddy boots onto Terryl’s unspoiled cushions, when he reached for one. She shook her head. ‘Cahra,’ he pressed.

Finally, tentatively, she lowered her foot onto the gold-striped pillow.

Minutes later, facing the clearing, Cahra straightened as Raiden and the others emerged from the Wilds, her eyes flashing between them.

Terryl’s second in charge limped, looking as guarded as ever as he returned, a tall woman with a tan leather satchel in tow.

Queran and Siarl were fanned behind him, weapons out.

As Raiden approached, Cahra called out to him, ‘Should we be expecting trouble?’ Meanwhile, Piet gave Raiden a nod at the door.

Raiden shrugged off his jacket as he and the woman – a healer, Cahra realised, noting the hat, robes and bag of the Physicians’ Guild – climbed into the coach. Raiden sat heavily.

‘No. But we’d best not linger,’ he said, motioning out the window.

‘What happened?’ Terryl asked as the coach began to move.

Raiden removed his bloodied shirt and Cahra tried not to gawk as she saw stab wounds near the man’s lungs, but seemingly not in them.

He was lucky it hadn’t been far worse. He gritted his teeth as the physician next to Cahra pulled a strip of cloth from her satchel and sprinkled it with a pungent-smelling liquid, before pressing it to Raiden’s side.

‘Do it, Merali,’ he ground out. The woman leaned forward, needle and twine breaking skin as she made several tight stitches to staunch the flow of blood.

‘What happened,’ Raiden said, gripping the armrest, ‘is that Cahra jumped out of a damn tree and disabled a soldier about to loose a crossbow at me.’

Terryl’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That is not what you told me,’ he said slowly.

Her cheeks felt hot. ‘You would have fussed, and there wasn’t time,’ she replied. Raiden snorted but nodded in recognition.

‘Well, Cahra, I take it back. Clearly, you are a warrior.’ Terryl’s brow furrowed. ‘Yet what of this attack? Was it related to our escape, or was it simply a happy coincidence?’ Despite his humour, worry crept through his usual mask of pleasantry.

‘Both. They were Kolyath scouts, and when interrogated, one revealed they’d stumbled across us while on duty. But they also knew that a group had escaped the gatehouse, a party with a caravan of wagons. When they found us…’ Raiden spread his palms.

‘Which means that more may follow.’ Terryl leaned forward, hands steepled.

‘Once their scouts fail to report in, at least. So we return to original measures. Minimal stops, the securest camps and the shortest time possible between here and home.’ Raiden hissed softly as Merali applied a swab doused in spirits to his stitches.

Terryl didn’t argue. ‘Agreed, we must get our people to safety.’

Raiden twisted, testing the stitches, before nodding to Merali and rebuttoning his shirt. ‘To Hael with that, I’ve half a mind to escort you back now.’ She’d never heard Raiden curse. She wondered if this was what he was really like with Terryl, or if it was just down to the blood loss.

The lord straightened. ‘No. Everyone here is at risk.’

Raiden looked ready to launch into an impassioned argument, then he noted Cahra. His face was drawn as he said to Terryl, ‘This is reckless. You know what Commander Tyne will say once he learns of this day’s events.’

Terryl exhaled through his nose. ‘Raiden, I cannot keep letting you put my life above all others. I shall not, will not, do it – I cannot be responsible for any more d—’ Terryl raised his own eyes to her then, as if also remembering she was there.

‘We can make it back as one, if we exercise caution, correct? We have done so before.’

She looked to Merali, who was cleverly focused on packing her satchel.

‘Yes. My lord,’ Raiden said, shoulders stiffening as the veins of his neck bulged. Cahra looked between Terryl and Raiden.

Was this normal? She couldn’t imagine a Kolyath lord stomaching dissension in his ranks. She’d seen Commander Jarett backhand his guards and leave them bleeding in the street for less.

Terryl did say Luminaux was different.

‘Merali, would you tend to Cahra’s leg? She was injured when she fell.’

Cahra began to protest, but the healer was already peering at Cahra’s knee through her ripped trousers and reaching into a satchel. Merali unscrewed a little, round tin, saying, ‘Now, this may hurt,’ as she smoothed a balm into Cahra’s purpling knee. Cahra ground her teeth, silent.

Raiden watched her bite back the pain, a new light of respect dawning in his eyes. ‘That was quite the leap you made, back there.’

Cahra looked up from her leg, her eyes meeting Raiden’s. She couldn’t help but grin at his acknowledgement. ‘Oh, I know,’ she said with pride.