The villagers would catch them again. It was only a matter of time. When they did, their mercy would be nonexistent.

Fallon crossed his arms as he sized up the reason for the delay. It might be better for them all if he were to eliminate the injured man here and now.  

Wilhelm would support his decision. The rest, not so much—especially the sniveler and Shea.

The sniveler wasn’t much of an impediment. A broken neck and he could follow his friend into death.

But Shea—she was the sticking point. Fallon suspected she wouldn’t take the proposed death of one of her people lightly. She’d fight him if given the chance.

If he decided on that course, he’d have to make sure she never got the opportunity.

For the moment, she’d disappeared again, scouting their path ahead.

He was tempted to take care of the problem before her return. It’d be so easy. Allow the injured man to lag behind, then Fallon or Wilhelm could end him before anyone was the wiser.

Although with the way Dane and Witt were keeping careful watch of Fallon and his companion, that might be more difficult than it seemed.

Shea’s men didn’t trust them. Smart, considering who they were.

Shea appeared at the far side of the canyon and jerked her head at them to get moving. She was already disappearing the way she’d come as Dane and Witt herded the injured man and his friend forward.

 “Something needs to be done about that one,” Wilhelm said from beside Fallon.

And soon.

The injured man wasn’t going to get better. His skin was pale, his face pinched with pain. Every step he took was a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to win.

They couldn’t carry him either. Not over terrain as rough as this.  

The merciful thing to do would be to end the man’s life rather than leave him to their pursuers. Fallon had seen it before. Denied easy prey, the villagers would likely be blood thirsty and sadistic if they got their hands on any of them again. They’d make them beg for death before the end.

Fallon had no intention of letting himself or Wilhelm die here. Not when escape was so close at hand.

Fallon and Wilhelm trailed the others as Shea took the lead again, setting a pace that wasn’t slow but was also nowhere near as fast as they needed to go.

Fallon settled in to wait and watch. At least for now.

 *

“Your boy’s not going to make it.” Fallon nodded at the wounded man. He thought it was best to be blunt.

Shea had to know the truth of his statement—even if she wasn’t ready to admit it.

Grim resignation settled on her face, matched only by her stubbornness.

She wasn’t going to do what was necessary, Fallon knew.

It was honorable to try to save the injured man—and foolish. This land wasn’t so gentle that it allowed you such luxuries.

“You’d be better off stashing him and leading the others away.” When she did, Fallon or Wilhelm would slip away and finish him so he didn’t fall to the enemy.

It was the best solution, allowing her to keep her morals and conscience clean while Fallon did what was necessary for the safety of them all.

Shea grunted in agreement.

She’d already considered what he was suggesting, Fallon realized. Probably had been for a while.

What was she waiting for, then?

The longer she delayed, the closer their enemies drew.

Testing her, Fallon suggested, “We shouldn’t rest too much longer. Our pursuers will be getting close.”

Shea didn’t disagree. “I’ll tell the others. Thanks.”

She gave him a nod before walking away without another word.

Wilhelm took her place, watching as she approached her people. “She doesn’t trust us.”

“Would you in her place?”

Wilhelm snorted. “Probably not.”

Neither he nor Fallon were given to trust. They were too used to the failures and weaknesses of others. The only people they placed their faith in were the Anateri. Each man and woman in Fallon’s service had proven themselves worthy of the honor a thousand times.

“You think she’ll do what is needed?”

Fallon certainly hoped so. Otherwise he’d have to take matters into his own hands—and he didn’t want to do that yet.

“If not, we’ll have to do it for her.” Fallon had no intention of this being his end—or hers.

Leaving Wilhelm behind, Fallon moved toward Shea, catching the tail end of her conversation.

“We just stopped. Everyone needs more time,” James was protesting.

Disgust at the other man’s idiocy moved through Fallon. James was welcome to sit on his ass until the villagers caught up to him and did him the service of slitting his throat.

Maybe then he’d see wisdom.

Fallon growled, “You can rest when you’re dead. If we take any more time, the villagers will catch up.”

He held James’s stare, daring him to argue. It would give Fallon cause to eliminate him then and there.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shea studying him with something akin to surprise. Not that he’d interfered, but that he’d spoken up on her behalf.

What kind of people did she protect that they didn’t recognize something as simple as this?

The kind who didn’t deserve her, he decided a second later.

Instead of the confrontation Fallon itched for, James climbed to his feet and helped his friend up. He shot Fallon a disgruntled glare as the two hobbled away.

How disappointing.

“Thanks,” Shea muttered as she passed him.

Fallon lingered for only a moment before stalking away, quickly taking the lead. Wilhelm settled into step beside him.

They walked in silence for a time, each of them alone with their thoughts.

Gradually, Fallon and Wilhelm pulled ahead. More than once they were forced to stop and wait for the rest to catch up.

It was during one of those breaks that Wilhelm said, “I think they suspect who we are.”

Wilhelm’s gaze was steady as he studied Shea and the two nuisances she was conversing with.  

Judging by the suspicious looks being cast in their direction, Fallon and Wilhelm were the current topic of conversation.

“They’d be fools not to suspect something.”

Shea didn’t strike him as a fool. Nor did the two men who’d helped her with the rescue.

Fallon wasn’t too worried if they did guess their identities. There was little they could do at this point.

Movement on the path ahead drew Fallon’s attention. A man, dressed to blend with his surroundings, held still as he met Fallon’s gaze. He opened one of his hands, showing Fallon his palm.

Fallon shook his head, waving the man off with a subtle gesture. He’d known Darius was close. It was just like his general to have scouts out looking for them.

The scout dipped his chin in acknowledgement, fading back.

He’d report to Darius and the general would get his men into position for when they were needed.

Fallon’s smile was merciless. He was looking forward to this. The villagers wouldn’t know what hit them.

Wilhelm fixed Fallon with a thoughtful look after watching the scout disappear. “I take it you’re hoping to learn something more from our companions?”

“They hold secrets. Best to learn everything we can before we spring the trap.”

 “You know best.” Wilhelm was resigned as he glanced at the rest. “Though I’m not sure you’ll get much out of this lot with the exception of the girl.”

Fallon agreed.

Now, that he knew his men was out there, he could let this play out. Maybe he would even let himself enjoy the walk. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself such simple pleasures.

*

A little over an hour later Fallon found out why Shea had delayed in leaving Cam behind.

The hiding spot she’d found was perfect. Hidden. Easily defensible.

Large boulders, evidence of a past land slide, hid a small gap next to the canyon wall. The villagers would walk right past it, never knowing it was there.

He had to admit to being a little impressed.

Of course, it would only work if someone led the rest of the pack away.

Even as he thought it, Shea jumped off the ledge to the floor of the canyon, already bending to wipe away the evidence of their foot prints.

“Wait here until I come back. I’ll try to draw them off.” She pointed at Fallon and Wilhelm. “You’re coming with me.”

Fallon arched a bemused eyebrow. He was, was he?

Wilhelm didn’t hide his amusement. This was a new experience for Fallon—being ordered around like he was an untrained youth.

Fallon’s lips twitched as he murmured his agreement.

He and Wilhelm jumped down to help Shea. With the three of them, it went quickly.

They’d just finished and started to set a new trail to follow when the sounds of their pursuers grew.

Right on time.

Fallon’s smile was deadly.

Shea took off, Wilhelm and Fallon racing after her.

Again, she surprised him. The woman, he found, was full of the unexpected. The pace this time was nothing like it had been earlier.

It was fast and furious, as if she was making up for the frustrating slowness of before.

The canyon twisted to the left, Shea following its curving path. She abruptly stopped and was already whirling to retreat when Fallon nearly ran her over. He caught her before she could fall, steadying her with a firm grip.

A group on horseback watched them with remote stares. Warriors, all of them, some of the deadliest he’d ever seen.

About damn time.

“Behind us,” Fallon barked.

The warriors kicked their horses into a gallop, surging past them. Only one man remained.

The man watched them for a moment before nudging his horse forward, the clop of its hooves the only sounds as they reverberated off the canyon walls.

Fallon ignored Shea’s confusion as Darius stopped in front of them. His general pondered the woman Fallon still held, one eyebrow raising in silent question.

Yeah, she was a surprise to Fallon too.

“You took your sweet time, Fallon,” Darius finally said, unlatching a sword from his saddle and tossing it to Fallon.

Instantly the tight feeling in Fallon’s stomach loosened. The weight of the sword in his hand was familiar and welcome. It spoke of home and duty, as familiar and vital to him as his own arm.

“One of our party was injured. It slowed us down,” Fallon said.

“We’d almost given you for dead,” Darius said lightly. “I could practically hear the clan heads fighting over your successor.”

On any other man, those words could have been taken as a subtle threat. Not Darius. His general was cunning and devious, but he had no desire for Fallon’s position. The few times he’d had to lead in Fallon’s absence had more than soured him on the responsibilities and backstabbing that came with the mantle of Warlord.

Shea extracted herself from Fallon’s arms, taking a cautious step back. Her gaze moved between the two of them, no doubt putting things together and coming up with the correct answer.

“They’ll have to wait a little longer,” Fallon responded, half of him still focused on Shea. “I’m sure they have many plans for my demise. It’d be a shame if they never got to put any of them into action.”.

Darius chuckled.

Shea edged back another careful step.

Fallon thought that was just about far enough. He didn’t need her injuring herself trying to run, not when she would just end up caught again in the end.

He considered her. She froze in place, going as still as a bunny who’d spotted a predator.

What should he do with his rescuer?

He could think of many things. Most were of a personal and intimate nature.

“I see you didn’t escape empty handed,” Darius observed, watching Shea with careful calculation. “She’s pretty.”

“And cunning,” Wilhelm added. “She rescued us and two idiots from execution. Stole us right out from under the villagers’ noses.”

Fallon ignored them, content to watch the fascinating play of emotion on Shea’s face. She was cautious. Wary. But not truly afraid.

Brave of her.

They were three large men. Warriors versed in pain and death.

Yet, she faced them as if she was their equal.

There was something admirable in that.

Shea tried for a smile and failed. “I should be going. My people probably need help. Glad you were able to find your people.”

She nodded at him and he had to stop himself from smiling. Adorable. She actually thought this was the end.

Darius snorted. “Are you planning on keeping her?”

Fallon was, actually. He never thought he’d find someone who instantly attracted him like this woman did.

He’d grown up on stories of how his father met his Lowland mother when she threatened his life. He’d stolen her away that very day.

Afterward, it took months to gain her affection and access to her bed, but in the end, Fallon had never known two people who shared a deeper bond.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” she guessed.

Fallon shook his head. “No.”

Better she accepted that now. Resistance would only prove futile in the end.

“I saved you and your man.”

She had. That was her mistake. Now she had to deal with the consequences.

“There are too many of us for you to fight, and your men are still in hiding,” Fallon warned, hoping it would convince her to put aside the schemes he could already see brewing.

Shea’s lips flattened in stubbornness.

She wasn’t going to make this easy after all. Perhaps some reassurance was called for.

“No harm will come to you from our hands, lady,” Fallon tried.

She likely wouldn’t believe him yet, but she would in time.

The warriors pounded around the corner amid shouts of victory. It caused a split second of distraction.

It was enough.

Shea darted toward the vertical wall of the canyon. For a moment, Fallon remained still, surprise holding him in place.

Where exactly did she think she was going?

“She’s pretty fast.” Darius sounded impressed

Fallon sighed. He’d really hoped to avoid this type of drama.

He gestured for Darius’s horse, waiting as his friend dismounted before leaping into the saddle.

Fallon touched his heels to the horse’s sides, cantering after her. No need to rush. He didn’t want to scare her anymore than she already was.

Only, she wasn’t as trapped as he’d thought.

She reached the wall, climbing up it as if she’d done it a thousand times.

Fallon urged his horse faster, pulling up beside the wall to grab her ankle. She wiggled free before he could get a good grip on her. Afraid he’d cause her to fall, he let her go.

She climbed several more feet to safety before pausing to look down.

Fallon glared up at her.

Her smile was slow to come, but when it did it lit up her face. The laugh that rang out was bright and happy, exultant at her escape.

Fallon’s lips twitched, unable to resist the sound. She deserved that moment for having beat him. He’d underestimated her. Even knowing everything he did about what she was capable of, he’d thought he’d won.

Instead, it had been her who had emerged victorious today.

It was a humbling lesson that not even warlords were immune to failure.

Her glance was teasing. “Guess you won’t be keeping me after all.”

The statement sent a bolt of warmth through Fallon. He relaxed. He was smart enough to know when the game was over—at least for now.

Defeat was a new experience for him. He’d have to make sure he didn’t get used to it when it came to her.

She didn’t know it, but her actions made her all the more fascinating.

“Guess not,” he said with a wry smile. “The world’s not that big. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

He intended to make sure of it.

She didn’t seem concerned. “You’ll have to catch me first, and I can pretty much guarantee I know these hills better than any of you.”

Challenge met and accepted, he promised silently. This wasn’t the last he’d see of her.

 “A challenge,” Darius said, echoing his thoughts as he came up to stand beside Fallon. “Careful, lady. You’ve thrown the gauntlet down and Fallon has never backed down from a challenge.”

No, he hadn’t. Some might even say he thrived on them.

The twang of an arrow as it embedded in the wall next to her hand caused her to slip. His heart lurched as she dangled from one hand.

“Hold your fire,” Fallon roared. “Do not fire again.”

Darius was already moving toward his men. “Who fired that?”

Fallon ignored them, mentally urging Shea to catch her balance again. He watched as she slowly collected herself, hugging the wall as she fought for composure.

You’ve got this, he thought at her. Just a little more.

He took a deep breath as she started climbing again, her movements more tentative than before. He guided the horse under her as he watched her ascend.

It was only when she crested the top that he felt the tightness in his chest loosen again. When she looked back at him, he tipped his head in the respectful nod of one warrior to another.

Her battle might have been different and less bloody than the ones he was used to, but that made it no less admirable.

They’d see each other again. There was never anything he’d wanted more—and what he wanted, he tended to get.

The post Fallon POV – Part 3 appeared first on T.A. White.

It had started shortly after their flight from the village. The strange woman’s team had made an effort to delay their trackers by releasing the horses—a sound, if ultimately ineffective, plan. It appeared the villagers had wasted little time rounding up the mounts and forming a posse intent on their blood.

What to do?

They couldn’t outrun them. Not in this rickety wagon which was already threatening to shake apart under them.

With two useless waste of spaces and three with unknown abilities and allegiances, there was little chance of outfighting them either.

Quite the predicament Fallon had landed himself in.

The woman who’d rescued him from the platform crouched at his side. She was silent as she calculated the odds and arrived at the same conclusion Fallon had. There was no chance of escape. Not unless they took drastic action.

Fallon hovered on the cusp of taking charge, the only thing stopping him curiosity. How would she handle this latest wrinkle?

Let’s see what you’ve got up your sleeve this time, he thought at her.

The woman glanced in the direction of the Highlands and the cliff called Bearon’s Fault that ran its length.

Now, why would she think safety lay in that direction?

Unless—that’s where she and the other two had come from.

More than ever Fallon found himself interested in the puzzle these three presented. The sniveler and the injured man he dismissed as unimportant. But these three—he had a feeling they might change everything.

“How far to the cliffs?” the sniveler asked.

Looked like Fallon had been right. That was where they’d come from.

Highlanders—who would have ever thought he’d meet some so soon in his conquest.

The woman shook her head slightly, coming to a decision. “Too far.”

She was right about that. Even if she could lose the lowlanders chasing them on the cliffs, they still had nearly a day’s ride by fast horse, and an injured man who would never be able to make the climb.

There was no chance of the wagon making it that distance before they were caught either.

The woman twisted in her seat, studying the opposite direction. That way lay the Badlands

Surprising—and unexpected. Most wouldn’t even consider that as an option.

The woman looked like she’d tasted something sour and wanted to spit it back out but couldn’t. Resignation moved through her expression, quickly followed by a determination Fallon understood. It was the look of a survivor, someone who would do anything to keep going—even if it meant heading for a place that terrified them.

Because that’s the other thing Fallon saw when she looked at the Badlands. Terror.

“Dane, how much ammo do you still have?” she asked.

The man sitting next to the driver looked thoughtful. “Not much. Why?”

Fallon sensed where she was going with this. Smart. Very smart indeed.

“James, trade places with Dane. I need him back here.”

The sniveler didn’t argue as he patted the wounded man’s shoulder and moved slowly to the front as Dane made his way carefully toward them.

“I need you to pick off as many of them as you can.” The woman’s gaze was steady as she laid out her plan.

Dane looked skeptical. “I can try, but my aim’s not going to be very good while we’re bouncing around like this.”

No, it wouldn’t, but Fallon didn’t think she actually intended for the man to hit anything.

Fallon flicked his fingers at Wilhelm, summoning him from where he’d been tending the injured man.

“Keep an eye on him,” Fallon ordered in a low voice as the woman finished explaining her plan and headed for the driver.

“Understood.” Wilhelm paused, grimacing. His near physical pain at not being able to address Fallon by his title would have been funny in other circumstances, but right now it was necessary for their deception.

Seconds later, the wagon veered right, heading for the Badlands—and the rendezvous point with Fallon’s men.

“That’s convenient,” Wilhelm muttered.

Fallon grunted. It was.

Not for the first time he found himself considering whether the woman and the men were plants, meant to lead him into a trap. If so, it was a piss poor one.

“What do you want to do?” Wilhelm asked.

Fallon considered. There was really only one answer. “We watch. We wait—and when our opportunity comes, we strike.”

Wilhelm dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

Fallon started toward the front of the wagon, leaving his Anateri—one of his most trusted—behind to make sure Dane did what was needed.

Fallon saw an opportunity and couldn’t help himself, leaning close to speak into the woman’s ear. “The Badlands? Sounds ominous.”

He found himself fascinated as he watched her control her startlement, noting the sidelong look from the driver. That one wasn’t anyone’s fool.

He knew there was more to Fallon than met the eye, but he was going to keep the peace for now. Fallon suspected when their immediate danger had passed, that would change.

Fallon would have to deal with him later, for now he was caught spell bound as calm, hazel eyes focused on him, their depths hiding mysteries he itched to unlock.

Fallon had always liked puzzles.

“I take it you’re not from around here,” she said at last.

He shrugged. He thought that was obvious.

Her disgruntled frown nearly teased a small smile from him. She was like an adorable hedgehog—grumpy, defensive, convinced she was a bigger predator than she was.

Not that he minded. Sometimes it was fun watching the little dog chew on the big dog’s feet. It was a liberty he didn’t allow many—strange that he would for her.

He sat back to wait, knowing she would find his silence suspicious.

She struck him as a woman that liked anticipating the actions of the people around her. She was used to being the best and brightest in any given group.

She’d find him difficult, he knew. Already he was looking forward to her aggravation when he upset her expectations.

The sniveler, James, as Fallon had heard him called, was the first to speak. “The Badlands? I thought it was overrun with beasts. My father told me stories of men who tried to settle that territory. They never lasted long.”

Fallon’s people had their own stories about that place, ones that went all the way back to their origins. Though, they’d never been so stupid as to send settlers into its boundaries. That way lay madness and loss.  

“Have you ever been there?” James asked.

The woman’s gaze turned distant as she fell silent.

“Shea?” the sniveler prodded.

Ah, so that was her name. Fallon liked it. Feminine, but not overly so. Subtle but memorable. A whisper of sound he found himself already repeating to himself.  

“Once.” That word held a wealth of sadness and loss. Whatever had happened there haunted her still.

Fallon found himself wondering at the tragedies he could see weighing on her. He didn’t ask, already knowing she wouldn’t answer. He’d find out eventually—he wasn’t the type of man to give up—but for now, he’d sit and wait. Learn. Observe. There’d be time enough later to learn what events had formed her.

The wagon surged forward, picking up speed. As the terrain got rougher, so did the ride. More than once Fallon thought they’d either tip or break an axle. Somehow the wagon held together, the Badlands looming large in the distance.

Grass and vegetation grew scarce, to be replaced with dirt and stone. The steep bumps of the foothills that marked the edges of the Badlands weren’t what you’d call pretty, but they were distinctive.

There, Fallon knew, beasts hunted. Many of which had a taste for human flesh. They were aggressive. Territorial. Far more than normal animals.

Without his weapons, they’d be a difficult foe.

The wagon raced parallel to the forbidden terrain, a long section of cliffs greeting them. They were smaller than the Fault that separated the Highlands from the Lowlands but still a significant hurdle.

“There.” Shea pointed to a small passageway between the two sheer rock faces, evidence of an old slot canyon. “Get as close as you can before stopping.”

Fallon nearly grunted in approval. Smart. The narrow passageway meant their pursuers would have to abandon their horses. The close quarters would also give them a fighting chance if the villagers decided to follow.

The driver’s nod and another flick of the reins was the only indication he’d heard. Behind them the mob surged forward as they sensed they were about to lose their prey.

Minutes later, the driver hauled up on the reins, and the horses slid to a dramatic stop.

Fallon helped Shea lower the injured man to the ground as Dane dropped from the wagon, picking off several of their pursuers as the rest of them raced toward the gap that promised safety.

Fallon chanced one look behind them and smiled. He almost hoped the villagers were dumb enough to follow. He’d have fun toying with them—if the beasts didn’t get them first.

The post Fallon POV – Part 2 appeared first on T.A. White.

Some let it define them. They lived so carefully, never daring to step outside their narrow boundaries for fear it might consume them. Others ran to embrace it, dancing along its knife edge with wild abandon in the hopes it would make the time they had left taste all the sweeter.

Fallon had never particularly ascribed to either mind set. He treated death like the respected and canny adversary it was. One day it would defeat him, but until then he would fight with everything that was in him to resist its call.

He just hadn’t thought it would come for him so soon—especially not when he was on the cusp of achieving all he’d worked for. But that was death for you. It made a mockery of your plans even as you desperately tried to rally.

“Move it,” the guard said, jabbing Fallon hard in the back.

“Watch it,” Wilhelm hissed. Fallon’s friend and Anateri looked two seconds from throwing himself at their guards and exacting bloody retribution for the past few days.

Fallon was tempted to let him.

Their guards were the typical sort you found in a village like this. Brave when in a group; cowards when on their own or in the face of a predator greater than themselves.

A tall man, the guard was no stranger to hard work. A farmer, most likely, given the callouses on his hands. A man who probably spent his entire life toiling in the dirt, trying to tear enough from it to feed his family.

He must have been thrilled for the chance to play at war. He’d been one of several tasked with guarding Wilhelm and Fallon during their involuntary week long stay.

Fallon’s hands were scarred and calloused too, but his came from a life spent with blade in hand. They were formed over countless days spent training and during numerous battles where victory was decided by the thinnest of margins.

He didn’t play at death. For him, it was an old companion that was constantly at his side.

Fallon gritted his teeth and tamped down on his desire to rend and maim as the guard shoved him again.  It went against the grain not to retaliate, but every good hunter knew that sometimes patience was the only way to achieve your end goal.

He shook his head at Wilhelm. Much as nothing would please him more than popping this man’s head like a zit, it wasn’t time yet. Wilhelm might succeed in taking down the two idiots before them, but there were five more standing just outside this hovel, ready and waiting for an excuse to beat them.

Fallon didn’t want any avoidable injuries to hinder them when it came time for escape.

“What are you going to do? Huh?” The man’s lip curled as he glanced at his friend to make sure he was watching.

Fallon snorted, letting him see the derision in his face as he looked the man over. He sure talked big now that he had his friends backing him up. He hadn’t been so confident during their last confrontation. Then he’d looked like a scared little boy about to piss his pants.

The guard correctly interpreted that look for what it was, his eyes widening and rage turning his face bright red. He balled his hand into a fist and struck.

He was slow and telegraphed his move. It would have been easy to dodge. It was so very tempting to do just that, then show him the right way to punch, preferably in such a way that he’d be wearing the lesson into the next world.

Instead, Fallon remained still, letting the blow glance off him. It was just as weak as he suspected.

The man panted. “You’d better watch yourself, boy.”

Fallon wiped the speck of blood from his split lip. He examined the small amount and laughed. It really was too pitiful to even be considered a proper punch.

The man puffed up and stepped toward him. His friend brought him up short. “Enough of that now. We can’t go roughing them up right before the big event. The elders think their deaths will keep other outsiders away.”

The words seemed to get through and the first man relaxed, giving Fallon and Wilhelm a nasty smile. “Good point. I’ll be sure I’m the one holding the blade when it comes time to end your miserable lives. I’m told they didn’t bother sharpening it. I wonder how many whacks it’ll take before we succeed in separating your head from your shoulder.”

Fallon didn’t react to the threat, just stared at the man with a remote expression.

Not getting the reaction he’d hoped for, the guard spit at the ground and stalked out, his friend right behind him.

“Have to say, never thought something like this would be my end,” Wilhelm said tiredly as he leaned his head back against the wall of their cell.

It wasn’t really a cell, just a dirt room in one of the building off the village’s main square.

Fallon ignored the slight sense of claustrophobia he felt being in the small space. He didn’t understand how these people could spend their entire lives behind four walls. No windows or anything to let in the light. They were too afraid of what was outside their flimsy walls. They might as well have dug a hole in the ground and then closed it up behind them. It was nothing like the airy tents of his people.

“We’re not dead yet,” Fallon said.

Though if they didn’t act soon, that would become a very real possibility.

Who would have thought the great warlord, the man who’d united the Trateri clans under one banner, would be brought low by two youths of no more than fifteen? A boy visiting a girl he liked while she looked over the herds. Fallon and Wilhelm had attempted to buy a few mounts after their own had been killed during an encounter with one of the many beasts inhabiting this land. They’d barely escaped with their lives.

Perhaps that was why neither man had been suspicious when the girl had offered them a cup of warm otho to seal the deal for the mounts. Not until they woke up in this dirt room. Then it had become quite clear the otho had had something else in it, something designed to incapacitate them while the boy ran for help.

They should have just stolen the horses. Darius and Caden were never going to let him live this down if they caught wind of it.

“Time to go,” a man said from the doorway.

Fallon and Wilhelm didn’t bother arguing, filing out of the room one after another as the villagers closed ranks around them. The crowd outside jeered, already whipped into a fury. They were out for blood.

How many others had they sent to this same fate? Fallon and Wilhelm were obviously not the first. Not given the excitement in each man’s eyes.

Fallon didn’t react to the fervor, his face a blank mask. Not when they tied his hands. Not even when two other men were brought out. One had been seriously beaten, his face swollen and his eyes already turning purple as he sagged in his captor’s hold. The other man argued the entire way, pleading and begging before he tried to throw himself back into the room he’d just exited.

His captors were having none of it, dragging him outside with merciless grins. The villagers got off on the man’s panic and terror, excitement showing in their expressions.

“Have some dignity, man,” Wilhelm muttered.

Fallon agreed. Watching the other man was painful.

The other man struggled, whimpering pitifully as he fought every step of the way.

“Get up or we’ll kill you here,” one of their captors snapped. “Makes no difference to us.”

When even that didn’t work, another man squatted beside the captive and grabbed his hair, using it to force the man’s face up. “Ever seen what happens when someone’s stabbed in the belly. It takes hours for the person to die.”

The man on the ground might not have, but both Fallon and Wilhelm had. It was an agonizing way to go.

The words seemed to get through and the man climbed to his feet, tears on his face.

“Good choice,” the guard said, shoving the man out the door.

The other captive followed behind. Then it was Wilhelm and Fallon’s turn.

“Remember, our ancestors will judge how well we met death,” Fallon told Wilhelm. It was meant as both a warning and a reassurance.

They might not be able to defeat death today, but the grace with which they faced it down would matter in both this world and the next.

Wilhelm nodded. There was a grimness on his face that was familiar, one Fallon knew was reflected in his own expression. It was the look a man got when he knew his end was near.

“Watch for your moment,” Fallon said softly. The odds might be stacked against them, but you never knew when that might change.

“It’s been an honor, Warlord,” Wilhelm said.

He didn’t get to say anything else as his guard shoved him through the door. Fallon was next, walking to his execution with a straight back and his head held high as the crowd jeered and booed at their appearance.

The sounds faded as his focus locked on the four posts the villagers planned to tie them to. All the while, he watched. He waited and cataloged every detail around him. The number of people, the possible escape routes, even the condition of his fellow captives and how they might be of use.

Then he was on the platform, his hands being tied to the post.

His guard shoved his face next to Fallon’s. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

Fallon didn’t speak, simply stared at the man with an expression so cold and remote that it was like the lords of the underworld had risen up to peer out of his eyes.

The man flinched, fear momentarily flashing across his face before he recovered. He shoved Fallon’s head before walking away muttering.

Wilhelm jerked at his own bindings and snarled.

“Easy,” Fallon said. “We will have our revenge for every slight in the end.”

He meant that. There was a cold feeling in the depth of his stomach, a rage that ate away at his humanity as he watched the gathering. Men, women and children, gossiping and playing as they cheered for his blood.

He’d see every single one of them dead or enslaved before he left this world.

Fallon ignored them as he turned his body so his hands were protected from view from the rest of the square. He stepped forward and lifted the sharpened piece of rock out of his pants.

Wilhelm saw what he was doing and smiled, turning to keep watch as Fallon began to saw at the rope.

The discord in the crowd started small, almost unnoticeable at first. Fallon might have overlooked it if his senses weren’t so heightened.

A small figure threaded through the crowd. Not suspicious in and of itself, except for the fact that their hood was up.

Now, why would a villager be hiding their face while among their own people?

For a moment, Fallon thought Darius might have sent someone to check out the area when Fallon turned up late for their rendezvous. Just as quickly he discarded that notion. None of Darius’s men were that slight and the person didn’t move like a warrior. It lacked the confidence and awareness of someone who had spent his life learning to kill.

Fallon continued sawing at the rope even as he watched the figure advance on the platform. He found himself wishing the person to look up, just for a moment. He needed to see.

As if hearing his wish, the figure ducked their head lower and pulled the hood more firmly into place.

A man reached over, grabbing the hood and yanking it back, revealing a woman.

Her head lifted as a cry rose. “Outsider! She’s with them! There’s another outsider.”

She froze in place, staring around her as if startled at being unmasked. Stupid. She should run. These people were crazy. They’d kill her.

She did move then, but not away as Fallon had expected. She darted forward, her destination the platform. Fallon cursed as he sawed at his bonds. The fool woman was going to get herself killed.

Her head lifted, her eyes coming up to meet his. Fallon’s breath caught as her fierce gaze met his, a pair of hazel eyes wide in a determined face. Her mouth had a stubborn line to it.

Someone grabbed her, spinning her around. A man raised a fist at her.

Fallon jerked at his ropes. They gave, just a bit. Not enough.

A crack pierced the air. The ground shook as cries of  “stampede” rose.

The square turned into a sea of chaos as the villagers sought cover.

The woman bounded up the steps, her expression fierce as she raced across the platform, her cloak billowing as a halo of untamed curls circled her face. She looked like an avenging goddess from one of the old myths his grandmother used to tell him, come down to lay waste on her enemies.

The executioner approached her, an ax in his hand. Another crack pierced the air and red blossomed in his chest.

Fallon looked up at the buildings around them, spotting a man lying on one, a strange weapon in his hands as he aimed at the other villagers on the platform. Every sharp sound brought down anyone who approached the woman as she raced to the sniveler’s side.

“Shea!” the sniveler screamed as he struggled against his bonds.

She pulled a knife from her waist and started working on his bindings as her friend apologized over and over again.

Fallon looked over at Wilhelm, who shrugged and shook his head in confusion. He didn’t know what was going on anymore than Fallon did. The unexpected arrival of the woman and her friend had thrown both of them for a loop.

Shea finished with her friend’s bindings and pulled him free, shoving a knife in his hand and pushing him toward the wounded man. “Get Cam loose.”

Fallon expected that to be the end, for her to walk away and leave the two of them here. Only a fool would help a pair of strangers.

To his surprise, she pulled another knife and started sawing at his ropes. She was distracted, keeping an eye on their surroundings. She never noticed that the job was more than half done.

Fallon watched her through half lidded eyes, studying her carefully. This could be a trap designed to get her into his good graces. Something the clan leaders cooked up as an attempt to manipulate and control him. It was something they’d attempted before.

What better way to gain his trust than to save him from an impossible situation.

“Powerful weapon, that,” he said, testing her.

She grunted but didn’t respond otherwise as she finished freeing him and moved on to Wilhelm.

Fallon followed, not wanting to let her out of his sight. At least not until he understood what she wanted. Wilhelm looked over her head and lifted his eyebrows as if asking for orders. Fallon shook his head. For now, they’d play along. Things had just gotten interesting and he wanted to see where this led.

“Shea, come on. We have to go,” the sniveler shouted.

Shea cast a glance around even as she worked frantically to free Wilhelm, an expression on her face that Fallon read easily. He was surprised at how closely her thoughts mirrored his.

Where exactly did the sniveler think they would go? The horses still stampeded around them. If they tried leaving the platform now, they’d likely be stomped to death.

Fallon kept his amusement to himself as consternation crossed her face. She had obviously not gotten to that part of the plan. He was curious to see what she’d do now.

“Thanks,” Wilhelm said, rubbing his wrists. “We’re in your debt.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We still have to escape this gods be damned, shit hole of a village.”

She looked around, clearly searching for a way out. Fallon held quiet as he studied her. If she was someone the clan leaders had placed in his path in hopes he’d be caught in her web, they’d chosen well. She wasn’t beautiful. The lines of her face were too strong for that, but there was something about her that demanded attention. An undefinable attribute that drew the beholder’s eye. A confidence that said she was perfectly at home in her own skin and didn’t care for the thoughts or opinions of others.

Some of the most beautiful women in these lands had graced his bed and failed to hold his attention the way this woman now did.

Fallon was fascinated in spite of himself. He didn’t have time for a woman and all the distraction she might bring. He was preparing to conquer these lands, a woman would just get in the way of that.

Still, he found himself unable to look away as every thought the woman had ran across her face. Frustration, unease, sarcasm. He had to wonder what thought spawned that last emotion.

Wilhelm nudged him then nodded at something in the distance.

Fallon couldn’t help his snort. This was the most slapped together plan he’d ever seen, but damned if it wasn’t working.

He leaned forward and tapped the woman on the shoulder, pointing. “Is he with you?”

She squinted at where he pointed.

Relief shone from her face. She grinned and clapped Fallon on the shoulder, not seeing the flash of humor on Wilhelm’s face at seeing his warlord treated as one of her men, or the startled consternation on Fallon’s.

“Prepare to jump,” she called, moving to the edge of the platform.

“In there?” the sniveler asked, wild eyed. “While it’s still moving?”

“It’s not like they can stop and wait until we get comfortable,” she said sarcastically.

Fallon grunted with amusement as Wilhelm’s eyes danced. It seemed she didn’t care for the sniveler any more than they did.

“They’ll slow down, right?” the sniveler asked hopefully.

She ignored him and gestured for the rest of them to join her.

“Jump right before the wagon reaches you,” Fallon said, taking over as was his natural inclination.  He tugged the injured man’s arm from the sniveler as Wilhelm took the other arm.

Fallon had a feeling Shea wouldn’t leave the hurt man behind even if it would be easier and safer. To forestall an argument, he decided to take charge of the situation for her. One way or another, Wilhelm, Fallon and Shea were getting on that wagon. He didn’t really care about the other two, except as it might affecta the outcome he wanted.

She didn’t argue, correctly assuming he and Wilhelm had the better odds of making the jump safely.

The wagon barreled down on them. Fallon and Wilhelm jumped together, taking the injured man with them.

Seconds later, Shea followed, nearly careening off the other side as she landed awkwardly. Fallon grabbed her by the back of the shirt and hauled her back in, grunting when she collided with his body. He got a second to feet her soft curves before he dumped her in the bottom next to the others.

“Thanks,” she said, patting him on the arm. “Guess I owe you one now.”

Fallon’s smile was slow. That’s right. She did, and he intended to collect. “Just returning the favor.”

She gave him an uneasy smile and moved off. He let her as Wilhelm moved up beside him.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Wilhelm said, looking around at their rescuers.

Fallon grunted. In life, all the best things were.

“How do you want to handle this?” Wilhelm murmured.

Fallon was quiet as he thought. They could take control now, but they might have to kill a few of the men since they were outnumbered. He wouldn’t mind the deaths of the other two captives—neither man had impressed him—but their rescuers were a different story.

At the core of things, he was interested. Something he hadn’t been in a long time. He wanted to see how this played out. “Stay close to the man with the weapon. Find out what you can about where they came from.”

“You don’t think they’re from that village?”

Fallon shook his head. “No, and I’d be interested in what kind of place creates people like these.”

Wilhelm nodded and moved off, taking a seat beside the man with the odd weapon and giving him a charming smile. Fallon stared at the woman as she talked to her friend.

He didn’t know her story, but he would soon. And if the clan leaders had sent her his way, he’d just have to break their hold over her and make it so she was loyal to no one but him.

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