To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(93)
“Five or six at the most,” Yajna answered. “But the rest of us can fight to slow them down for my brother’s sword. We keep fighting no matter how many times we have to put down the same Vyrkune and wait for Yavi to slay them all.”
Yavi braced his hands on the table, peering down at the worn fabric of the map. “General Manck, how long will it take for Black Army reinforcements to arrive from the outposts at Hajan and Ularia?”
“Two days, Sire. They should start arriving tomorrow night. First from Hajan, and perhaps the following morning from Ularia.”
Yajna spoke. “If the Vyrkune are already in Darpan when we arrive, brother, they will be hungry and looking for fresh meat.”
“Yes. We can’t delay in pressing an attack, lest they begin to scour the countryside raiding farms and nearby villages.” Yavi stood up straight. “We will know more once we infiltrate the palace tonight.”
“Sire, a detachment of assassins can go with you,” Binnaj suggested. “Surely you aren’t planning to go with only your brother and the queen?”
“Yes, that is exactly what I’m planning,” Yavi replied. “I do not want to endanger any Black Army troops until I have the Zulfikar sword. The Vyrkune won’t stop until they have devoured every living being in their path.”
Binnaj fell silent.
“Once we have the sword and have confirmed Uman’s location, we will return here, so that we can make a coordinated attack on his Vyrkune army together.”
Binnaj nodded. “Aye, Sire.”
§
Back in her room, Graciella quickly tugged on her boots under the monk’s robe, then draped Yavi’s robe over hers as a cloak for extra warmth. She wasn’t taking no for an answer—she was going after her brother. Without Jiandra there to protect and calm Rafe, she was the only one left to do it, and there was no way she was going to let Rafe run off alone into danger.
Volkan met her outside the guest quarters, his gray eyes worried. “My daughter—”
Graciella held up her hands. “Forgive me, father, but I must go after Rafe.”
“I know. I will not try to stop you. His soul is in the balance, and you must try to reach him before he is lost. I have eight of my warriors ready with horses in front of the monastery. They will go with you to find Rafe. If he is going after Uman, then his path will lead directly into the battle. My warriors will guide you there and protect you.”
Graciella nodded.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her through the monastery, out the front entrance where her guard detail waited on horseback. Once there, Volkan removed a short, shiny sword from his belt. “Do you know how to use a blade?”
“Yes, a little. Yavi gave me lessons.”
“Good.” Volkan closed his eyes to whisper a prayer over the sword before handing it to her. She took it by the hilt and secured it at her waist under her belt.
“You will ride with Terak. He is skilled with horses.”
Graciella looked up at the hooded monk who sat peering down at her from the back of his horse, his silver eyes piercing. He reached down with one hand and helped her climb onto the horse behind him. The monk robes were specifically designed to cover one’s legs and fit over a horse’s back almost like trousers, she discovered as she settled onto the hindquarters of the horse.
Master Volkan addressed Terak. “Take no unnecessary risks with my daughter. She should be kept away from the battle if at all possible. If you see the Korvakaran, try to lead him away from the battle so that his sister can try to calm him.”
Graciella frowned. “If you see the what?”
Volkan met her gaze grimly. “Korvakaran. It means the demon’s chosen.”
She swallowed, her heart twisting for Rafe.
“Now go. Tejeshwar protect you, my daughter.”
Terak gave a hand signal to the others, and they were off, galloping with great speed. Graciella clung to the monk’s muscular flanks for dear life, praying Rafe would be all right.
§
Yavi secured Sikar’s reins to a branch, then joined his brother and Jiandra in the cover of the trees. They peered up at the lights glowing in the upper windows of the palace.
“Surely Captain Harshad wouldn’t have that many torches lit,” Yajna muttered. “It must be Uman and his lackeys inside.”
Yavi sheathed his scimitar on his left hip and pulled his hood over his head. “Let’s go.”
The three of them hurried toward the eastern wall of the palace, pausing in the cover of some bushes before running across the open space in the moonlight to the base of the wall. Yavi threw his grappling hook up, hooking it on the balustrade above. He held the rope out to his brother.
Yajna climbed the rope quickly, slipped over the edge of the balustrade at the top, then looked over it and nodded at Yavi.
Yavi helped Jiandra climb onto his back, then pulled them both up the line until they reached the top. Yajna reached over and lifted Jiandra over the wall, and Yavi followed her, rolling up the line of his grappling hook once he was on the walkway.
They crouched out of sight, then peered over the inner wall at the grounds below. A group of Vyrkune sat around a fire feasting on bloody animal carcasses, laughing and talking in guttural growls.
Yavi motioned toward the prison building, and Yajna nodded. Yavi went first, staying hunkered in the shadows as he hurried along the walkway until he was directly above the prison. He secured his grappling hook, scooped Jiandra onto his back, and quickly lowered the two of them to the soft earth below.