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  Chapter 3

  “Tathan, wake up! Come quick!” Liselle shook him and pulled at his arm. Panic touched her voice.

  He jerked to his feet, gripped her shoulders and scanned the room for immediate danger. Finding none, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

  She wrung her hands in front of her chest. “Father and Laremy saw men on horseback coming this way.”

  Tathan snatched his sword and attached it to his belt while heading toward the open door. “What do they look like?”

  She answered as they made their way downstairs. “Father said they look dangerous. They have tattoos, spears and dark skin.”

  “That’s not good. Desert Warriors shouldn’t be this far west.” He leapt down the last few stairs. With a few bounds, he was out the main door.

  Ellin and Sherrie stood on the front porch as Tathan passed them by. Liselle joined them. Scott had his pitchfork, waiting for the warriors to arrive while Laremy stood with his bow a short distance behind. Tathan moved to the left of Scott, loosening his sword in the sheath.

  The sun was just over the mountaintops in the west, turning the bottoms of spent thunderheads in the sky a reddish hue. He could see that it must have rained while he slept. The grass was damp and the air smelled wonderful in contrast to the danger in front of them. As Tathan studied the riders, he grabbed an item hidden in a secret pocket of his tunic.

  The dark-skinned warriors rode at a trot from the road to Rothton, southeast of the dwelling. Their hair was in topknots with long braids running behind, indicating they were of desert tribes as Tathan had suspected. Tattoos covered their faces and necks and he knew the markings continued underneath the furs they wore.

  They had swords with a deeper curve than his. Each had a riding bow at his side but their primary weapons were spears decorated with feathers and bones.

  Their faces were those of predators, men who killed and liked it.

  The warriors stopped a hundred paces in front of Scott, but their gazes rested on the women huddled on the front porch.

  Scott held a hand up in greeting. “Hello! It’s rare that we have visitors here.”

  The lead warrior glanced at the man to his left.

  That man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  Tathan knew they didn’t understand the language Scott spoke, nor did they care to learn.

  The leader gripped his spear, ready to throw. He motioned the men to spread out to either side. The warriors did so, readying their own spears.

  “Get back to the house now!” Tathan yelled at Scott and the others. “They’re at a disadvantage indoors.”

  Scott turned to say something.

  The lead warrior heaved his spear. The feathers and bones decorating it whistled along its flight.

  It thudded through Scott’s chest and out his back, knocking him to the ground.

  The women screamed at the sight of quick, brutal death.

  Laremy stood with his mouth gaping, forgetting the bow held loosely in hand.

  Tathan opened his hand to expose the object he had pulled from his pocket. It was a polyhedron with runes over its facets. He spoke a word of power, which made the runes glow deep purple. Then he tossed the device into the air toward the warriors, guiding its path with his hand. When it was in the right place, he spoke another word of command.

  Purple light sprayed in a fan toward the riders. Many turned away from the light. They were the lucky ones.

  Tathan sidestepped a spear thrown at him

  The leader closed his eyes and shielded his face. In addition, he turned his horse to save it from the effect. Many others had done the same thing.

  Light seared through the eyes of those too slow to react. Violet Violence ripped out their souls. Half of the horses and their riders fell to instant death, victims of the wicked spell.

  Tathan cursed under his breath. Half was not enough. Fifteen still lived. The good news was that they would be dazed by the spell even if they had survived it. They would also be cautious from that point.

  “Scott!” Sherrie raced to her husband’s body.

  Tathan yelled to Laremy, “Get them inside, now!”

  Surviving warriors spurred their horses forward. A few held back, trying to shake off the supernatural effects.

  Sherrie fell to her knees beside her husband, clutching him to her chest. “Scott! Please, no! Don’t die!”

  Laremy stared in shock. The bow fell from his limp hand.

  One of the riders closed in on Sherrie, spear raised.

  Tathan dashed to intercept him.

  The rider jumped down to grab Sherrie.

  She tried to push him away with one hand while shielding Scott with her body.

  The warrior spat a curse and thrust his spear into her side.

  Sherrie wailed in pitiful pain as she collapsed over Scott’s body.

  Tathan drew a dagger from his belt and threw it with a flick of his wrist on the draw. It hit the rider in the neck causing the man to fall to the ground, clutching the wound.

  Sherrie reached out as Tathan rushed to her. He saw the shock in her eyes and blood beginning to run out of her open mouth. Looking at the wound, he knew it was fatal.

  Hoof beats drew his attention. The leader of the warriors was riding hard at him. He cast his spear in Tathan’s direction.

  Tathan leapt to the side, rolling as he hit the ground.

  The leader’s spear flew past him to slide along the ground.

  Tathan drew and lashed out with his sword in a fluid diagonal arc.

  The leader’s reflexes were almost as impressive as his own. He drew his own sword and deflected Tathan’s blow as he passed.

  Two riders charged with spears aimed at Tathan’s heart.

  Tathan sprang toward the warrior on the right. He grabbed the man’s spear, leveraging it while thrusting up the horse’s flank with a foot. On his way up, he gashed the warrior’s spear arm, rendering it useless.

  From there, Tathan somersaulted toward the rider on the left.

  The warrior pulled his horse to a skidding halt and lifted his spear in an attempt to deflect Tathan’s blow. He was too slow.

  Tathan’s dark sword separated the warrior’s head from his body and drank his soul. The horse reared flinging his lifeless body to the ground. The man’s head bounced away, spraying blood over the flowers.

  When his feet touched ground again, Tathan looked toward the house for Laremy and the women. His mother dragged Liselle inside.

  Laremy had recovered his bow. He backed toward the women while shooting.

  The closest warrior went down with an arrow to the neck.

  The leader of the warriors looked from Laremy to Tathan as though trying to decide which to kill first.

  Danger tickled the hairs on Tathan’s neck. He rolled to the side.

  He didn’t see the warrior’s shocked face as the thrown spear found empty air.

  The remaining riders focused on him. He had no time to get to the house to help Laremy protect the women. Tathan hated fighting riders. He leapt, grabbed the arm of a surprised warrior and thrust his blade down into the man’s shoulder.

  The man cried out and jerked back on the reins, causing the horse to rear.

  Tathan jumped away. His foot hit the rump of the next warrior’s horse while his blade slashed across the rider’s neck. Tathan twirled toward the next, and the next.

  Six more warriors were dead by the time his feet touched ground again.

  The next one was on foot and ran at him. He tripped in a group of flowers and flopped to his face.

  Tathan did a double take. It looked as though the flowers had intentionally tripped the warrior. As the man got up, Tathan ran him through. He could have sworn the flowers looked on in approval.

  There was one warrior left. He held his sword at the ready, staring at Tathan with awe and fear.

  Looking back toward the house, Tathan saw another warrior lay
dying from one of Laremy’s arrows. The leader’s horse was at the porch and the door had been blown aside by some sort of spell.

  Tathan ran to the house. His mother and cousin were in there and he didn’t know if Laremy could hold him off. A scream from inside indicated his fears were justified. He dashed through the doorway.

  Laremy’s lifeless body was the first thing he saw. The next was his mother at the bottom of the stairs, protecting Liselle.

  She paid the ultimate sacrifice as the warrior leader rammed his spear through her heart.

  During battle, Tathan had made no noise other than the howling of his blade cutting through air as it drank the blood of the warriors. The war cry that now burst from his throat was fierce and full of anguish as he hurtled toward his mother’s murderer.

  The warrior leader released his grip on the spear and drew his sword to meet Tathan. Their curved blades clashed. He was fast, strong, and well trained.

  They slashed and parried, leveraging for position.

  Tathan’s advantage began to show. He excelled at fighting in tight spaces. Walls and furniture acted as shields and weapons. He jumped atop a chair, balancing as the warrior leader lunged. Kicking back, he launched the chair at the warrior leader.

  The man tripped over it and stumbled to the side to regain his balance. He parried Tathan’s slashes and thrusts while backing toward the wall.

  Tathan blocked a counter thrust. He ran halfway up the wall, did a somersault and cut deeply into the man’s shoulder as he came down.

  The warrior leader dropped his sword and fell to his knees.

  Tathan landed on the opposite side. He swung with both hands and all of his strength.

  The warrior’s tattooed head bounced off the wall. His body crumpled to the floor.

  Tathan’s sword eagerly drank the freed soul.

  A noise sounded at the door.

  Tathan spun.

  The last rider stared at him in awe. He jerked at Tathan’s notice and ran out the door.

  Tathan chased him outside.

  The warrior looked back over his shoulder as his horse galloped into the distance.

  He thought of jumping on the leader’s horse and following the man, but riding wasn’t his strength. He wouldn’t be able to catch the warrior.

  Liselle was still inside.

  Tathan ran to the door.

  The terrified young woman rocked back and forth on the stairs, staring at the bodies of Ellin and Laremy in horror. Sobs racked her body.

  Sunset angled through the windows and open door, tinting everything red.

  Liselle looked up at Tathan in the doorway. She screamed.

  Tathan spun, expecting danger.

  It occurred to him that blood covered his face, hair and sword. Dashing into the dining room, he found a towel and some water. He wiped his blade with the towel before sliding it into its sheath. Then he took some water and splashed his face, getting as much blood off as he could. He wiped his face and hands with another towel and went back to the stairs where Liselle was alternately sobbing and screaming.

  “Here now. Look at me, Liselle.” He took her face into his hands. “Look at me now and get your senses back.”

  She looked at him and screamed again. There was only terror in her eyes.

  He slapped her cheek hard to get her to come out of her panic.

  Liselle gasped and stared at him. She threw her arms around his shoulders, falling into a whimpering cry.

  “Come on.” He led her up the stairs to the room where he had rested. Once there, Tathan held her by the shoulders as she tried to compose herself the best she could.

  Sudden anger turned Liselle’s lips into a snarl. She looked over his shoulder at the doorway

  Tathan drew his sword and shielded Liselle.

  The rider he had slashed in the arm leaned against the doorjamb, sword in his hand.

  With a scream of fury, Liselle shoved Tathan to the side. She put her hands forward, fingers spread.

  Blue vines of magic shot from her fingertips toward the man. Liselle’s hair and dress whipped forward.

  The warrior shrieked as the vines crawled over his body and ripped him to shreds.

  Liselle released the spell and stumbled forward.

  Gruesome pieces of the warrior splattered to the ground.

  Tathan caught Liselle as she fainted.