Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(47)

Five days after the battle, Shanti was recovering yet again, still in the Captain’s city. Cayan had offered her a place as long as she wanted. When she was ready to go, he offered her any help he could provide. And while she was thankful, because she needed to heal again, she wasn’t exactly comfortable. She felt the pull of the East, the urge to continue with her duty and move the war effort along. Not only that, but she had dragged his people into her struggle. He and his commanders were starting to think of the overall picture now, having an idea of what was coming, and already choosing a side. That was good, obviously, but they were such a small nation—Shanti couldn’t help but think she had made a grave mistake by not killing him. He’d be taken, and he’d be used. And right now, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.

So here she sat, trying to block out the pressure of her duty, her mistakes and failures, and keeping her mind completely closed so Leilius wouldn’t have a chance to sneak up on her. It was amazing, and more than a little frustrating, how mangled her plans had become in the space of a month.

As night settled, she heard stomping to her right. It was loud enough to be a massive land animal. If that was Leilius, he would get his ass kicked, no two ways about it.

“Tasha, wait.” A male’s voice rang through the clearing. Commanding. Controlling, more like.

“Tasha!”

A pretty young woman stomped into view with tears rolling down her face. She had a look of determination intermixed with fear. Behind her stepped a man the usual height for this land, but he was lean for these people. There was a confidence in his bearing that said he could hold his own, but wasn’t an excellent fighter. Dirty fighter, perhaps. Punched people when they weren’t looking.

He grabbed the young woman’s arm and swung her to face him. She collided with his chest, her arms coming up immediately to push away.

“I just want to talk,” he said gruffly. By the way his body loomed over hers, and the way his h*ps slightly protruded, that was horseshit.

The fear in the girl’s body said she thought the same thing.

“No. I don’t want to. I’m not ready.” She had tears in her voice. “Please.”

He grabbed her with both hands. “You can’t lead me on and then walk away, Tasha. That’s not how this works. What am I supposed to do…” He shook her a little, pulling her back toward the trees.

Boy-oh-boy did he pick the wrong time to step into Shanti’s life. With her nightmares waking her up screaming three nights out of four, she was not in the mood to witness any more social injustices.

Shanti stood up silently and walked closer slowly, trying to control herself before she jumped into this altercation. Because she would absolutely be jumping in. In this city, based on its rules, no woman should be manhandled. It was like roughing up an Empathic in her village. Or someone not engaged in the fighting arts, man or woman. The strong didn’t pick on the weak.

“No, Tommas. Please…” the girl begged.

“Oh, hello,” Shanti said casually, walking into a spot of moonlight in the small clearing.

Tommas startled but held on, not letting go of his prize. Tasha stayed mute, mouth closed tight. Her eyes said help, but they also revealed guilt. Possibly she had been making out with him in the trees and he tried to go too far. Didn’t make it right, but this woman was too young, or too entrenched in social customs, to know that.

“What do you want, bitch?” Tommas asked with a snarl. “Can’t you see I’m having a private moment with my girlfriend?”

“Ah yes, bitch. I don’t love that word, myself. Passive aggressive. I much prefer cunt if you are looking to make a point. Much more vulgar, don’t you agree? Widens people’s eyes. Regardless, I wanted to know if I can assist in any way? It seems there is need of a mediator.”

“What the f**k are you talking about?”

“You seem to be having a dispute. I thought I might be able to solve the situation logically. As an impartial third party, of course.”

“Fuck off, you stupid cunt!”

“Oh, lovely. Two of my favorites in the same sentence. I just love the word f**k. It’s very similar to flak, in my homeland. You can hear the similarities. The meaning is slightly different, however. Flak is more of ‘everything good in the world suddenly going wrong’. Turning to shit, you might say. Fuck seems to be more sexually based, however loosely. But oh the things you can do with it, am I right?”

Tommas just stared. He had no idea what she was talking about, what was going on, and why his vehemence wasn’t scaring her off. She used this distraction to move ever closer, lackadaisically getting into range so that she could get Tasha away and then have some sport with Tommas.

“For example,” Shanti continued. “You can use it as an action: I am going to f**k you sideways and call you Martha. Or as a thing: you are a dumb f**k. Or as—“

“What the fu—what do you want?” Tommas spat.

“It is certainly used more often when angry, yes. I have noticed that.” Shanti was a step away now, her feet light on the ground, in predator mood.

“Fuck off!” Tommas threw out a hand to push Shanti away at the shoulder. Instead of blocking, or swiping it away, or even letting it reach its destination, she instead grabbed it and pulled.

Tommas lost his balance immediately and took a giant step in Shanti’s direction. He let go of Tasha in anticipation of landing on his face. Shanti stepped around him deftly, putting herself between the two.