Free Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5) by K.F. Breene Page B

armed themselves with knives in silence. They were ready for the stealth kill.
    Another chill raced up his spine. Shit had just got real.
    Without a word, the pace slowed. The Shumas fanned out to the sides, Kallon giving him a tiny nudge as Sayas plucked at his sleeve from the other side. Apparently they wanted him to follow Sayas.
    “Just say it,” Sanders whispered.
    “You read language when words steal us.” Sayas flashed him a grin. “Hope you learn speed, yes?”
    “Never mind. Don’t say it. You’re out of your league.” Sanders followed the thinner man to a covering of trees. Once there, they advanced slowly. Sanders marveled at the soft steps and careful feet of the Shumas. With exceptional balance, they let a foot hang in the air before deciding where to put it, avoiding anything that could rustle or crackle. Often, with the foot off the ground, they would also contort their bodies, avoiding dried leaves or low-hanging branches.
    “You’re putting me to shame,” Sanders mumbled. The sound deadened on his lips.
    After about a hundred yards, they stopped and crouched. Sanders, not able to feel anything, crawled forward on his hands and knees, and then dropped to his stomach.
    A couple of hundred yards in front of him, cleared of trees, squatted the dingy wall of the Mugdock city. Great holes marred it in places, crumbling the stone into rubble. One side of the gate was ripped from its hinges and lay to the side, a bent and damaged mess. A black-clad man stood at the mouth, leaning against the wall.
    Thick fingers drummed Sanders’ shoulder. He looked back.
    Sayas used those fingers to point to the right.
    Sanders followed the vague point and saw another pointed finger.
    Words. Words were so much simpler.
    Sanders crawled backward until he could stand, and then went in the direction of the waggling digits. He found the Captain.
    Sanders dropped to one knee as the Captain started speaking in a low tone. “I’d say a battering ram took down that gate. The wall wasn’t made of strong stuff—it might’ve fallen with the forced entry. The Mugdock never worried that we’d come for them—unless they’d stolen something of ours. They’ve never needed a heavy defense.”
    “They attacked us, though.” Sanders shook his head. “The Inkna initiated the attack, using the Mugdock. Why would the Mugdock agree to work with a people that forced their way in?”
    “I suspect they didn’t at first,” Shanti said, still facing the city. “The Inkna probably offered material rewards. Then when the Mugdock didn’t fulfill their obligation, the Inkna would’ve had no use for them apart from their city. If the people aren’t needed for harvesting goods, then they are disposed of.”
    The Captain’s knuckles turned white on his sword hilt. “Their mental power would’ve pushed them away from the walls, leaving the Graygual free to force their way in.”
    Shanti pushed forward onto her knees. “I can identify one higher officer. I know their type. There might be a few sex slaves, but…” She lowered her head in concentration. A small movement had her turning toward them. “I think they might be prostitutes. They are there for some purpose, not out of fear. I would guess a working woman.”
    “Know something of them, do you?” Sanders growled.
    “Yes,” she said.
    Sanders knew a shocked moment before he let it go. That was the Captain’s problem.
    “How many Inkna?” Sanders asked.
    “A handful, only one with higher power,” the Captain answered, moving away from the crest of the hill before standing. Sanders did likewise. “We can take them down easily.”
    Shanti’s people flocked in from the sides. “A host of Graygual, kept in line by a few officers. It is like the Hunter’s camp, only with much less skill.”
    “Are you sure about that?” the Captain asked.
    “Mostly,” Shanti answered.
    “Oh, well, that’s reassuring.” Sanders spat to the side.
    “Let’s talk with Daniels.”