A Warrior's Quest (8 page)

Straight toward the thirty plus Shojo demons who
’d flashed into his brother’s inner grounds.

Ren bellowed and drew his sword, giving the command to the men he
’d been training with. They were not his best, but it was all he had. “Protect the Dardaptoan females and the heirs!”

Aureliana had seen these beasts before; when she and Jierra had been kidnapped by Redd Gothan Lupoiux several months ago they’d been surrounded by nearly two dozen of these creatures. No one knew what those two dozen Shojo demons had been after, but she and Jierra had been fighting a losing battle until Rand and Renakletos had arrived. They were small—barely four and a half feet tall—but they had been vicious. Ren had told her they rarely attacked in larger numbers the way they had that day. But she still remembered how to kill them.

She pulled her sword and swung it wide. It caught one Shojo in its side. It squealed, but didn
’t go down. Aureliana grabbed Cerridwen and pulled her with her, toward Cerridwen’s father. If she could get the little girl to Ren he could protect Cerridwen. Knew he was trying to do just that. Where were Kindara and Bronwen? Had they made it back inside the walls of Rathan’s home? Were they also surrounded by these
things
? She
knew
that Rathan had defenses in place to keep demons from flashing inside the walls of the castle; why not inside the outer walls, as well? Would Kindara and Bronwen be safe inside,
if
they could get into the inner walls?

Ren was too far away. The Shojo had converged on him
and
her. Why? What were they after?

Ren
’s men, the six he’d been working with earlier, were coming toward her. They fought the Shojo, but it was evident they weren’t the strongest or best of Ren’s warriors. Where were the others, the rest of Ren’s fighters? Why weren’t they coming to help? There should have been dozens of demon males ready to dispatch these invading
things
.

Someone was screaming and it took Aureliana a moment to realize it was Isolde, yelling for Cerridwen. Aureliana blocked the sounds out and forced herself to remember her years of training.

For every Shojo Aureliana was able to cut down, four more popped into its place. How were they getting in? More and more were appearing from out of nowhere. How were they to defend against them, when they were flashing themselves wherever they wanted to be?

What
were they after? Who?

One of Ren
’s men was next to her, and he tried to use his larger body to protect her. It was futile; three Shojo flashed behind her, bypassing the large male. She didn’t even know his name, but when at least six of the red demons attacked him, she knew she’d never forget his face as he died trying to protect her.

She
’d never forget.

She jumped over his body and spun, sending her sword in a deadly arch that cut the nearest demon in half. She hadn
’t spent all of those years training to sit by and meekly allow others to die protecting
her
. That
was not the Adrastos way. And it never would be.

She fought, cutting the beasts enough to send them backing away from her. She was pulled to the ground by a trio or more, but she was able to get her sword in front of herself and defend her position until she could get back on her feet.

Down on the ground increased the chances of death; she knew that. She would die with her sword in her hand at some point; but damned if it would be today.

Not with little Cerridwen behind her. Not with Kindara and Bronwen, little Zephra and Danae, Ren and Rathan in this castle. No, she
’d do whatever she had to in order to defend the ones she loved.

She went in to an intricate move that Rodulus had designed and taught her. It hurt her; put strain on her muscles in a way that was entirely unnatural, but it would do maximum damage to at least four surrounding enemies. And she
’d practiced the move until she could do it in her sleep.

She cut down three Shojo in seconds. Two more replaced them.

As she faced them a thought occurred to her.

These demons
weren’t
fighting with all they had. At least, they weren’t fighting
her
with all of their weapons.
Why?

Ren understood the Shojo strategy less than a moment after he realized that the little red bastards had deliberately cut the warrior girl and his spawn off from him and his men. The Shojo were either after one or the other of the two females he would protect at all costs. Why? Was it because of the Wolf god’s warning?

Were they after the warrior girl, or his brother
’s current heir? The warrior girl had been with his brother’s consort; had the Shojo taken Kindara? To get to his brother’s unborn spawn? Where was Kindara?

He would not allow failure to take root. He two-handed his bastard sword, the hilt long and made just for that purpose. He cut a path, jabbing and thrusting, running the blade through as many of the dirty little bastards as he could.

Shojo were the dredge of demons, vicious, but not too terribly bright. Not too terribly great of fighters.

But never before had so many attacked his brother
’s castle. Because Shojo were invariably selfish and mistrustful of the others of their race. Getting more than ten or twenty Shojo—especially unrelated ones—to work together well enough to orchestrate such an attack of this was no small feat.

Someone had to be controlling these bastards; someone with a greater agenda and enough power and charisma to convince the Shojo to overcome their natural reticence to each other and work together for a common purpose.
Agmendias, perhaps? He was still a part of his brother’s staff, but he was guarded and watched covertly every moment of each day. But was it him, somehow?

Why? Was it just to assume control of Rathan
’s kingdom?

No Shojo had ever ruled Relaklonos. And none ever would. The beings were incapable of it. Already on the outer edges of the demons separating him from the warrior girl, Shojo were fighting amongst themselves.

It was all that kept him from being killed. And he knew it. If the forty or fifty demons turned and began fighting him
together
they could take him down just by sheer number.

Two of his men were down, just in the area near him that he could see.

They’d gone down fighting; an honorable end to the males who’d both been barely out of their seventies, partners in life as well as battle. He would mourn them later.

But he knew what had happened to them; the bigger Shojo had targeted them first. Before turning toward
him.

But unlike his men
he
was not inexperienced in battles.

There had been no real battles in Relaklonos in 111 years, long before his lost men had been birthed. But he…he was nearly two thousand years old. His life had been fraught with wars.

And he knew how to fight off enemies of every demon sort.

Half of the Shojo were down now. Three of his men were still standing. Him. And the warrior girl. Five to fight off twenty-five Shojo. Four and a half, considering the girl warrior
’s fragility.

Doable odds now.

He cut down two with a single slash of his sword. The warrior girl was nearer now, and the Shojo she battled fell at her feet.

He could just see his daughter
’s black curls behind the warrior girl’s legs. Isolde was wrapped around his daughter, protecting her from the claws of the Shojo surrounding them.

Aureliana was keeping herself between the bulk of the Shojo and the nurse. And his daughter.

She was protecting his daughter with everything she had.
He would never forget how she looked in that moment. Fierce and beautiful, despite her small size.

He cut down another pair of Shojo. Small, weak specimens both. Their fighting styles were pitiful. Inexperienced.

Banbolk, one of his youngest, most inexperienced warriors, cut down three Shojo with a surprising movement of his long sword.

Two lines of Shojo were now back-to-back with each other. One line faced Ren and Banbolk. The other surrounded the warrior girl and her charges.

Ren felt a renewed surge of fury when his little girl called out for him. When the warrior girl was knocked to the ground by four of the damned bastards.  

He would see each of the Shojo dead eventually, but he would keep a few alive just to make them suffer for what they had attempted to do this day.

Shouting came. Then several of the Shojo went down under an assault of his guards. What had taken them so long to get to this far corner of his brother’s castle grounds? It shouldn’t have taken half the time it had.

What had happened?
Had they faced other obstacles? Were other parts of the castle under attack, as well? How many of his people, his
brother’s
people, going to be lost?

The few remaining Shojo were scattering, trying to escape the onslaught of two dozen strong
Warriors.

Ren grabbed one by the neck, stopping it from running toward the far walls of his brother
’s lands. He tossed the Shojo to the ground, then shoved his sword through the bastard’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. The beast squealed like a porcine he resembled.

He needed information; this Shojo would provide it.

When Ren was ready. Right now he had to check on the wellbeing of his females.

“Keep some for information. Kill the rest!” He didn
’t give the rest of the Shojo a single thought. The warrior girl was on the ground. And she was not getting up.

His heart froze its beats when he saw the blood on her forehead. The red across the white tunic.

Shojo bled clear, not
red.

Ren scooped the warrior girl into his arms and her head rested on his shoulder. She was awake, but barely. How much blood had she lost? Would she be able to survive yet another blow to her body such as this?

Her lips brushed against his neck. “I
’m sorry…I need…”

He knew what she asked. And he
’d give every drop he had willingly. “Take what you need. Phelius will put you back together again. Then we will find out the purpose of this attack.”

“Cerridwen?”

Shame hit him as he realized he’d momentarily forgotten his own
spawn.
He looked over his shoulder. Banbolk had Isolde in his own arms; Cerridwen was in Rathan’s half-brother Iashcu’s embrace. She was cradling her pup, and though she was pale and frightened, no blood marred her skin. She would survive; she was strong, hardy demon.

The Dardaptoan female was far more fragile, even than his child.

And if she were to succumb to her injuries, they would
all
face a dark future. He shifted her closer. “Take what you need; Cerridwen is safe.”

She drank from his neck until she was too weak to continue. She went limp in his arms.

He carried her inside and to her suite. He’d considered flashing her, but in her condition that could be just as dangerous.

Phelius met him at the door. “We have supplies ready. Come. Put her on the bed.”

Ren lowered her to her bed as carefully as possible. Without considering her modesty he pulled the ruined white tunic over her head.

“Stop!” A female voice told him with a sharp bite in the words. “I will do that.”

Ren glared at the healer’s assistant. She was small, brown-headed, and not of his world. He had never seen her before. Where had Phelius found her? And what gave her the right to question a prince of this world? “Be quick. And do not hurt her. Phelius, send a servant for Kindara and the girl healer Bronwen.”

“Already done.”

The female assistant pulled the tunic from Aureliana’s chest. There was a gash across her chest. Her beautiful chest, with its pale purple bra. A rage filled him like no other. “Will she live?”

The healer
’s assistant stared at him for a moment with eyes of the deepest gold. Odd eyes.

Dardaptoan eyes.

 She was of the warrior girl’s Kind then. Did he know her? “I think she will. If she chooses to fight. Which
she
will. If you’ll stay with her, I must go; there are others in need of my skills, while Phelius tends to her.”

She left him just as Aureliana began to wake. His attention turned to the warrior girl, and he forgot the healer
’s assistant. She was of no consequence. Not now.

Aureliana
’s eyes were open now. “I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“Your men…how many did you lose?”

“I do not know. Three or four.” He felt more shame hit him.
He
was the head of Rathan’s military forces. He should know how many they had lost today. “I shall find out.
After
you are better.”