Free A Warlord's Heart by Michelle Howard Page A

youngling.
He neared the rear of the stables where the equipment was housed on
racks and where Balal had obviously chosen to defend his youngling.
Blessed One. Vaan almost crumpled at the sight that greeted him.
His Warlord lay slumped sideways against the back wall, sword
clenched tight in bloody fingers. Two unknown dead warriors lay in
pools of blood across from him. No Erana or Arane.
    Vaan’s gaze searched the area, desperate for
any sign of his youngling. Their absence drilled a hole in his
chest and he threw back his head and roared out his pain. He fought
back tears refusing to give in to the weakness. Ramar rushed by
him, hands flying over Balal, checking his injuries. Vaan remained
standing, every nerve taut as his vision hazed and he descended
into Fenal.
    “Find my youngling,” he snarled to the
Warlords around him.
    They scattered, performing a more intense
search of the burning stable, each of them hoping, praying to the
Blessed One for a glimpse of green eyes and tiny fangs.
    Balal’s eyes blinked open. “Sire, Vaan.”
    Vaan inhaled deeply, rage boiling. Ramar
hefted a shoulder under Balal’s arm and helped him to his feet.
“Speak, Balal.”
    “K-Kabanians,” Balal coughed. “They
were…Kabanian warriors who attacked.”
    Vaan screamed again at this blatant betrayal.
He forced back the beast driving him to destroy. Kill. He needed to
find his enemy first and then not even the Blessed One would have
them.
    “The fire, Overlord. We must leave.” Janak
attempted to pull Vaan away but he couldn’t move. Would not
move.
    Intense pain scoured his heart and his voice
cracked. “My youngling, Balal. Where are Arane and Erana?”
    Vaan listened as Balal explained how he’d
showed the youngling around. With little warning, at least fifteen
raiders snuck in and attacked. He’d hidden the girls in the loft
while Amrod held them off.
    Vaan’s heart stuttered as he darted a look at
the wooden rafters above. Fire consumed the entire upper area. He
staggered back a step. Anguish tore through his chest as he turned
toward the lowered ladder.
    “No!” Balal shouted and tears welled in his
dark brown eyes. “They came back down to help. To fight.”
    Balal pointed with a shaking arm to the
abandoned wooden swords Vaan hadn’t noticed. “The raiders took
Arane and Erana. I failed you, Overlord.”
    No. His enemies failed. They had no idea what
they’d started. Vaan allowed his Warlords to force him outside.
When they were feet away, the structure lit up further as flames
crackled and snapped in a final dance, destroying everything it
touched. Water sprayed the area in short bursts.
    Maen, Seffi and the other Raasa worked in
coordinated efforts as they pulled on the long levers mounted in
the ground to release water from the lines below and within the
stables. They could handle the fire. A quick count of the animals
milling about confirmed all the hapfe safely out. Vaan didn’t care
that the building was lost. He wanted those responsible.
    Breath ragged, he faced the nine Warlords
gathered. Soot covered their grim expressions as they waited for
vengeance on those who’d dare attack them in such a cowardly
manner. “Sulon, Kiel and Janak with me. The rest will stay and
defend our home. I go for my youngling.”
    The band of Kabanians couldn’t have gotten
far. He promised war and death. Vaan planned to hunt them down and
feed them to the tarka wolves. “Mount up. We ride.”
    Janak brought over four jittery hapfe. A
limping Wessel snapped out a command that had the prancing animals
settled.
    Blood smeared Wessel’s face. He paused to
speak to Vaan. “Destroy them, Overlord.”
    A fine tremor ran through Vaan’s frame and he
couldn’t respond. Wessel led the rest of the hapfe with a sharp
order inside the gate and the courtyard. Vaan mounted and waited
with restrained violence for the others. Ramar approached, Vesa at
his side, clinging to the warrior’s forearm as tears spilled from
her green eyes.