Nineteen

 

Black Army assassins and warriors poured into the main courtyard as Yavi addressed his officers over the din of the growling creatures outside the gate. “Block the left gate with the catapult,” he shouted. “We’ll open the right gate just enough to funnel a few in at a time before they find another way in and surround us. If we get overwhelmed with numbers, we can try to shove the right gate closed again.”

His officers nodded. “Aye, Mahaj.”

Yavi drew the greatsword and helped Jiandra onto his back so she could heal him immediately as he got injured. Yajna used his grappling hook to climb up the side of the fort and take a position atop the bell tower with his bow while the soldiers below shoved the catapult against the left gate door. Outside the gate, the Vyrkune had begun hurling themselves against the wooden doors, causing the bar to start to crack.

Yavi crouched, readying his greatsword. “Lift the bar!” he shouted.

As the heavy bar swung upward, it freed the right gate door first. Black Army soldiers shoved their shoulders against it, trying to keep it from swinging all the way open, but the Vyrkune were in a frenzy, their unnatural strength heightened by lust for fresh meat. They forced the right door open and poured into the courtyard, knocking the catapult onto its side and shoving the left door partially open as well.

Black Army soldiers attacked with swords and arrows, incapacitating several of the creatures, but many more poured in right behind them. They overran Yavi’s men, jaws opening wide to chomp off hands, arms, shoulders, faces.

“Lord Zehu!” Jiandra whispered near Yavi’s ear, clinging to his neck.

He attacked, swinging the heavy blade back and forth with all his might, felling a few. His brother’s arrows helped slow down some of the horde, as did those of the Assassin Army archers around the upper battlements, but when a mob of Vyrkune rushed him, Yavi was caught off guard by their sheer numbers. He leapt backwards, unable to flip himself completely out of their reach while holding the greatsword as well as carrying Jiandra on his back. One of the creatures caught his boot in its claws, causing him to stumble a bit. Two Vyrkune sank their teeth into his leg, the force of their jaws enabling them to bite through his leather armor. He cried out as searing hot pain tore through his flesh.

“Let me down!” Jiandra shouted, holding the Omaja aloft. Yavi saw it glowing and complied, setting her down as gently as he could while trying to kick off the beasts and move away from them. Some of them rushed Jiandra, but immediately fell back as they hit against the invisible barrier of protection provided by the Omaja stone.

Another Vyrkune smelled the blood on Yavi’s leg and dove down to bite into the raw flesh. Yavi raised the greatsword and brought its tip straight down into the creature’s back. It convulsed and fell to the side, and Yavi struck a second one, managing to slice off its head. The greatsword felt heavy in his hands as his body went into shock from the bloody bite-wounds.

Jiandra stooped to heal his leg, laying her hand over the torn leather where the creatures had bitten through. Yavi felt soothing strength return, and the burning pain stopped.

Unfortunately, he and Jiandra were now backed into a corner against the fortress’s outer wall and the steps to the bunkhouse. He watched as the horde of Vyrkune continued to pour in, and many more of his Black Army warriors fell beneath their hungry rampage. He raised the sword with a fierce cry and drove into the horde full-force, hacking and slashing. Jiandra followed, staying out of his way but close enough to rush in and heal him if need be. Yavi slew the creatures left and right, his muscles aching from exertion. He ignored the pain and drove on, fueled by rage and determination to overcome the enemy.

Arrows flew over his head, striking many of the creatures as they finished off his Black Army soldiers and headed for Yavi unhindered. Yavi continued to spin and swing the greatsword at those who escaped the arrows, as well as others who were rising up off the ground with arrows lodged in their heads, necks, and chests. He spotted Uman standing near the gate, surveying the scene.

Uman pointed up at the bell tower. “Get the other Zulfikar!” he roared, and some of the horde turned to look. They saw Yajna and rushed for the staircase en masse, running with lightning speed up the steps.

“Yajna!” Jiandra screamed.

Yajna slung his bow onto his back and leapt down to a thatched roof below, rolled to the edge, and flipped off the roof onto the landing of a side staircase. The Vyrkune shifted course, filing back down the stairs and running toward that landing from both sides of the walkway. Yajna saw them coming and leapt again, this time landing in the back of a cart full of burlap bags containing food supplies. By the time he struggled to his feet, the horde had started to come off the stairs and was already heading in his direction.

Yavi turned to run toward his brother, Jiandra close behind. Yajna balanced atop the driver’s seat on the cart and brandished his daggers as the Vyrkune surrounded the cart, jaws gaping wide with horrific grins, black eyes soulless and menacing. Two tall Vyrkune reached up to grasp Yajna’s legs to drag him to the ground. He slashed at their hands and kicked, managing to free himself, but then three more climbed over the first two creatures’ backs and grabbed Yajna’s boots. They dragged him down into the midst of their mob, and he sank out of sight as the monsters pinned him to the ground to devour him.

“Noooo!” Jiandra screamed, running into the mob, trying to fight her way toward the center.

Yavi followed, swinging his sword to slash at the creatures, felling them one by one until he’d hacked his way into the clearing where Yajna lay on his back. His armor was torn and eaten through all along his bloodied arms, legs, and torso, but he was still fighting them with all his strength, kicking and punching as best he could. Yavi’s throat constricted painfully at seeing his twin fighting for dear life. He turned to slay the two Vyrkune nearest him with the sword, and Jiandra shoved through the opening to reach Yajna, gripping the glowing Omaja in her fist. Some of the Vyrkune tried to pounce on her and were knocked back by her barrier of protection. She ignored them and gathered Yajna’s partially mutilated body in her arms, clinging to his torn chest.

Yavi felt several claws grasp his arms and haul him backwards, away from his brother and Jiandra. He doggedly held onto the sword of the Zulfikars, gripping the hilt in his fist to keep them from knocking it out of his hand. Teeth sank into his right shoulder, hard, and then more teeth into his left bicep. He swung around, trying to slice at them with the greatsword, but another creature bit into his right forearm, severing the tendons, and the sword fell heavily to the frozen earth at his feet.

Yavi let out a hoarse cry as he wrenched free from the creatures and dove for the sword, but Uman stepped forward and kicked it out of his reach. Several of the Vyrkune pounced on Yavi then, biting into his legs and flanks, ripping at his leather armor with their claws to pull it away from his stinging flesh so they could eat.

Yavi looked up at the sky as they pulled him to the ground, and thought of Graciella.

He thought of her beautiful, pleading face, begging him to take her with him, and of himself promising—swearing—he would return victorious.

Those thoughts gave him the courage and strength to cry out to Tejeshwar, and he did, with a desperate plea in Nandalan.

“Stop!” Uman’s voice barked from overhead.

The Vyrkune paused, glancing back at their king.

Uman said, “I want him alive for a moment.”

Yavi could smell and taste his own blood. It was clogging his airway, and he could barely breathe, his torn chest wheezing painfully. He was going into shock, and his heart was pounding so hard he thought it would explode.

The Vyrkune backed away from his twitching body a bit as Uman came closer to inspect. “Bring the brother over here,” he ordered.

There was movement behind Yavi’s head. He heard Jiandra’s panicked sob as she and Yajna moved into the circle and saw him lying there, his torso and limbs a mangled mess. Several Vyrkune were holding onto Yajna, but Jiandra’s arms were also wound tightly around her husband’s waist. His wounds were gone, his armor hanging in tattered shreds. Yavi arched his back painfully and struggled to sit up, but to no avail.

Yajna tried to peel Jiandra away from his torso. “Heal my brother!”

“No!” she protested desperately. “If I let go of you, they will eat you instead!”

Uman stooped beside Yavi’s head and dipped a finger in the blood that seeped from a bite wound in Yavi cheek, then licked it. He laughed, a gravelly, cruel sound. “Which twin will it be, Yajna? Will you watch me devour your brother alive, or sacrifice yourself so your wife can heal him?”

Yajna lunged toward Uman, dragging Jiandra and the Vyrkune with him, but Uman’s lackeys jerked him back.

“Yajna, no!” Jiandra sobbed, holding onto him for dear life.

Yavi struggled to speak, his throat clogged with blood. “Brother…run…go…”

There was a commotion at the gate. The sound of horses’ hooves approaching, and then a blood-curdling scream.

Graciella.

Yavi squeezed his eyes shut. His worst nightmare had come true.

§

Graciella leapt down from the back of Terak’s horse, rushing blindly toward Yavi, pushing through the horde of Vyrkune.

“Don’t touch her!” Uman ordered loudly, and the creatures moved aside to let her through.

When she reached Yavi she fell to her knees at his side, sobbing. His armor was lying in tatters on the ground around his bleeding, mutilated body, his chest heaving in an effort to breathe. His pained silver eyes focused on her face.

“Sheir-zin…” he managed, reaching toward her.

She grasped his hand and pressed her forehead to it, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Yajna—take the women…run,” Yavi choked, gagging on his own blood.

Yajna shouted something in Nandalan to the monks who had escorted Graciella, and they leapt to the ground, drawing scimitars. They attacked the outer edge of the Vyrkune horde surrounding Yavi. While they and Uman were distracted, Yajna pulled Jiandra behind his back and lunged for the sword of the Zulfikars that was lying nearby.

Suddenly Graciella felt her hair being yanked upward.

Uman hauled her to her feet and turned her to face Yajna. “I will devour the younger Stovy here and now,” he threatened, “if you don’t drop the sword.”

Yajna let the sword fall to the ground with a thunk, and Terijin rushed forward to grab it. Graciella clung to Uman’s wrists to try to take the pressure off her hair and looked down at her husband, who was convulsing, trying to speak.

“Order your monks to stop fighting!” Uman thundered at Yajna, “or she dies!”

Yajna yelled over the din, “Cease your attack, Tylvani!”

Graciella looked down at Yavi’s bloodied face, her tears making her vision blurry. A sob choked in her throat, and her chest constricted painfully.

Uman jerked her forward a bit by her hair and taunted Yavi. “I’m claiming this one, Zulfikar usurper. Don’t you think she’ll make a lovely Vyrkune?”

Suddenly the gates to the fort blew wide open with a gale-force wind. The catapult that was partially blocking the left door smacked against the inside fortress wall, and the right gate door shattered against the other side. The monks’ horses reared and whinnied in panic, shuffling aside as a hooded rider entered. He jumped down from the back of his horse and glared at them, eyes glowing bright red in the darkness.

“Rafe!” Jiandra cried out.

An unnaturally deep, authoritative voice tore from Rafe’s throat as he stalked toward them. “Vyrkune. Imajkin loth folsul-karm!”

The Vyrkune shrunk away from him in terror, parting from his path as he headed straight for Uman.

“Ujagar lith solfil tar jarmine!” the voice thundered from Rafe’s lips. He raised his hands, curled his fingers into claws, and flew like a lightning bolt at Uman’s throat. Uman fell back, and Rafe straddled him on the ground, still speaking in the hideous demon-voice. He squeezed Uman’s throat until the creature sputtered helplessly, screaming and writhing under the assault.

Suddenly Rafe twisted Uman’s neck until it snapped. He stood, leaving Uman’s lifeless body lying on the ground.

Yajna screamed, “Tylvani, attack!” and forcibly shoved Jiandra toward Yavi.

Graciella moved to Yavi’s side as well, holding his hand as Jiandra healed his head and torso, then his arms and legs. Tears of relief streamed down Graciella’s face as she watched his flesh re-form and the gaping bite and chew wounds seal over.

Suddenly he sat up, leapt to his feet, and lunged for Terijin.

Terijin turned to run with the sword, but Rafe blocked his flight, eyes still glowing red. Yavi pulled Terijin around by his shoulder and punched him as hard as he could in the jaw. Terijin reeled, and Yavi wrestled him to the ground, grabbed the sword, and slew him with it.

With their leader dead, the Vyrkune were thrown into confusion, and the Tylvan monks were able to help Yavi and Yajna gain the upper hand. Yavi swung the sword of the Zulfikars left and right, slaying them. The agile Tylvani ducked and spun out of the creatures’ way as they lunged and pounced, and soon, the few remaining Vyrkune saw they were outnumbered and turned to flee.

Rafe shouted something in the strange language, and the fortress’s gate doors slammed shut in front of them.

Yavi let loose a cry of victory and bounded toward the Vyrkune, driving the point of the sword through two of them at once. Yajna shot arrows at the remaining three, knocking them back, and Yavi drove the sword through their chests to slay them.

He turned to face Graciella, smiling, chest heaving with exertion.

She ran into his arms, sobbing with joy. He picked her up, buried his face against her neck, and swung her around. She planted several excited kisses on his cheek.

“Brother!” Yavi yelled at Yajna as he set her down. “Get the ruby!”

Yajna knelt to tear open Uman’s chest armor and tugged the chain from around the creature’s limp neck. He rose and held the red pendant up for Yavi to see.

“I love you,” Yavi said to Graciella, scooping her up in his embrace again. “My sweet Sheir-zin.”

§

Jiandra threw her arms around Yajna’s neck, tears of joy streaking down her face. “We did it!”

“Yes, Lahdli.” He pulled back to look down at her. “How is the baby?”

“She never felt a thing.” Jiandra chuckled through her tears, resting one hand over her belly.

“She?” Yajna’s eyebrows went up.

Jiandra was about to reply when she caught sight of Rafe huddled in a crouched position in the distance, his hood low over his face. She pulled away from Yajna and ran to her brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrank back, pushing her hand away from him as if it had burned him.

“Rafe? It’s me, Jiandra.”

He peered up at her from under his hood, eyes glowing bright red. The demon’s voice said through his lips, “Leave me!”

Jiandra frowned and crept closer. “I will not leave you. You are my brother. You are my flesh and blood.”

He rose to his feet, glaring at her. “Leave me!” He took off running to the outer wall of the fortress, scaled it with the agility of a lizard, and disappeared over the top.

“Jiandra!” Graciella yelled from the other side of the courtyard. “Where is he going?”

“I don’t know, sister!” Jiandra cried, choking on a sob.

“We will find him, Your Highness,” Terak assured her. “We’ll take him back to the monastery. Take care of your survivors here, heal them, and get them inside the fort where it’s warm so they can rest and regain their strength.”

Jiandra nodded. “When you find Rafe, please send word so I can go to him.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

§

Graciella tore away from Yavi, darted through the open gate and circled around the wall of the fort. She saw a hooded figure running away in the distance. “Rafe! Rafe!”

He paused but didn’t look back at her.

Graciella ran to catch up with him. “Rafe! It’s me, Gracie.”

He turned, red glowing eyes glaring at her from underneath the hood.

“Rafe. Brother. I know you can hear me,” she said softly, wanting to hug him but afraid to do so.

He blinked at her. As she watched in amazement, his eyes changed back to their normal intense green color. And then they filled with tears.

“Rafe.” She took a step closer, reaching out a tentative hand to touch his shoulder, surprised at the taut muscles she felt there. He was growing into a man so fast. “You saved us, Rafe.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No. Ujagar did.”

“No, that isn’t true,” Graciella countered. “Ujagar doesn’t want what’s good for me and Jiandra. You do. You, Rafe. Maybe you used his power to help you, but you are the one who rode down here to help us.”

He stared at her in silence.

“You are a good man, Rafe. I believe in you. Don’t forget that.”

He moved forward to embrace her, burying his face against her neck.

Behind her, she heard the sound of hoof beats. She and Rafe turned to see the Tylvani escort approaching, leading Rafe’s horse along with them.

Terak dismounted and nodded to Graciella, then bowed to Rafe. “Are you ready to go, Brother Rafe?”

Rafe pressed his palms together and returned the bow. “Yes, Master Terak.”

Jiandra came running up to join them. “Rafe! Are you all right?”

“Yes, sister.”

Jiandra folded him in her embrace, tears running down her cheeks. She stroked his hair. “Sweet little brother. Thank you for saving us.”

“I couldn’t do it alone,” he responded. “The emperors and the Black Army fought valiantly, as well as the monks here.”

“Yes.” Jiandra stroked his cheek. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me.” He mounted his horse and joined the other monks. He gazed down at Graciella and Jiandra a moment before he left with the Tylvan escort.

Graciella watched him ride away. She and her sister put their arms around one another’s waists and hurried back inside the fort to help their husbands look after the wounded and the dead.

Later that night servants in the fort provided them with clean clothing, heated water to bathe in, warm bowls of lentils, and a bottle of wine. They washed the emperor’s ruby in boiling water and brought it out to Yavi on a clean cloth on a tray, and Yajna stood to replace it around his brother’s neck.

Servants offered to escort Yavi and Graciella to General Binnaj’s private quarters for the night, but they refused out of respect for the dead, and instead chose a modest, sparsely furnished guest room. The room had a narrow bed, a pitcher of water and a bowl, one towel, and a worn rug. By the light of the fire glowing in the small fireplace, Yavi sat on the edge of the mattress, tugged off his boots, then stood to remove his borrowed shirt. The emperor’s ruby rested between his thick pec muscles, against his tanned olive skin.

Graciella stepped forward to touch his chest, stroking her hand over the smooth texture of his perfect skin. “Miraculously healed up. This is a wonderful sight to see, after seeing you…” She didn’t want to describe what she’d seen when she arrived, and trailed off.

He glanced down, caressing her wrist and forearm as she touched him. “I hated for you to see me like that. I didn’t want to leave you with that image.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked up at his face. “Yavi,” she choked.

He pulled her into his arms, tight against his chest, and caressed her back. “Sweet Graciella,” he murmured. “It’s over. I’m here, and we’re all right now.”

Graciella wound her arms around his neck. “I was so scared.”

“I didn’t want you to see that,” he repeated softly, stroking her hair back from her face.

“Thank the Gods for Jiandra’s stone. It was like a miracle watching her heal you.”

“It felt like a miracle, too, believe me.”

She stretched up to kiss his cheek. “I love you so much, Yavi.”

He tightened his embrace, squeezing her into his torso. “I love you, too, my precious one. Sheir-zin halvon.”

Graciella clung to him, relishing the feel of his strong body against hers, the feel of his heartbeat, his breath, his warmth.

He pressed kisses to the side of her face. “We should rest now. We have much work to do tomorrow.”

“Yes. Yavi?”

“Yes, my sweet.”

“Don’t let go of me tonight.”

“I won’t.” He tightened his embrace again and caressed her back. “Except we do have to get undressed.” He chuckled. “Unless you plan to sleep in your dress.”

“No.” She smiled and stepped back to kick off her boots. She tugged her borrowed work dress over her head while he removed his trousers.

“Come.” He held a hand out to her, then pulled her down with him onto the small bed. He pulled the blankets over their naked bodies and folded her into his arms.

Graciella snuggled in as closely to him as she could manage, closed her eyes, and let sleep claim her.

§

In the morning, Graciella awoke to the sounds of the servants shouting. At first, it came from far away, and then there was more screaming and shouting in the hallway outside their room.

Yavi sat upright, startled.

“What could it be?” she asked, sitting up as well. The blankets fell away from her torso.

Yavi glanced down at her breasts before tossing the blankets aside. “I’ll go see. Don’t move.”

Graciella watched as he quickly dressed, tugged on his boots, and left.

Moments later, he was back, his face spread into a wide grin. “Get up,” he urged, grabbing her dress up from the floor. “You have to see this.”

Graciella dressed quickly and rushed into the hallway with him. Yajna and Jiandra were just emerging from their room as well to see what all the ruckus was about. The three of them followed Yavi outside to find that the snow and ice was gone, the morning sun felt warm, and the ground had thawed for the first time in a hundred years. The twins kicked at the loose soil, then leapt and shouted for joy, hugging each other and then their wives.

Yavi spun Graciella around in his arms, laughing.

“The curse is lifted!” she bubbled happily.

“You see?” he said as he set her down on her feet. “You did bring Nandala good fortune!”

“Me?” she squealed in protest. “You’re the one who defeated the Vyrkune!”

“Brother!” Yajna interrupted them. “Tejeshwar has blessed our land!”

“We’ll plant, and grow…!” Jiandra said to Graciella. “We’ll make Nandala as prosperous as Villeleia!”

Graciella hugged her. “Thank you again for healing Yavi last night, sister.”

Jiandra chuckled. “Thank Zehu for the Omaja stone.”

After breakfast, men arrived from nearby villages to help Yavi and Yajna bury the Vyrkune corpses from the battle in a deep grave outside the fortress. That afternoon when the Black Army reinforcements arrived from Hajan and Ularia, the emperors held a mass funeral for the fallen soldiers and officers. Manck, Binnaj, and Shardul had all lost their lives, but Terthan still had breath in him when Jiandra found him with the stone for healing. He stood alongside the twins during the solemn ceremony in the courtyard.

Later that evening, Graciella sat with Yavi, her sister, and Yajna on benches in the mess hall having a simple dinner of bread, mashed lentils, and boiled potatoes.

Jiandra gave Graciella gentle smile from across the table. “This has been a grim honeymoon for you, sister.”

Graciella hugged Yavi’s arm, resting her head on his shoulder a moment. “I don’t mind. I’m so happy the curse has lifted. It helps soothe the sadness of our losses.”

Yavi hugged her waist, kissed her forehead. “Still, I wish I had a more comfortable place for you to stay. Unfortunately, the palace will need to be cleared out and scoured clean before we can return there. It might take a couple of weeks, and we won’t have help restoring it until our staff returns from Hajan.”

“Brother,” Yajna spoke up. “Jiandra and I can oversee the return of the evacuees to Darpan as well as the cleaning and repairs to the palace. Why don’t you and Gracie go off somewhere and have a proper honeymoon?”

“Yes!” Jiandra agreed, squeezing Yajna’s arm. “That could be our wedding gift to the two of you.”

Graciella met her husband’s silvery gaze.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Where should we go, Sheir-zin?”

She thought a moment. “We could go visit my brother Elio and Queen Solange, give them the happy news of our wedding and Nandala’s victory over the curse. Solange would be thrilled to put us up in Castle Villeleia for a couple of weeks.”

“This time of year the rivers are teeming with Villeleian trout,” Yajna added. “You could fish to your heart’s content, brother.”

“Yes, and we could visit Stovy farm, see if we can pick some early strawberries,” Graciella suggested. “Collect a few bottles of Stovy Farm wine to bring home with us.”

“Say no more.” Yavi smiled, kissing her lips. He touched her cheek. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I want you to put all this behind you and enjoy yourself for a while.”

She turned her face to kiss his palm.

“I’ll make certain you enjoy yourself, in fact,” he leaned in to whisper near her ear. “In every single way.”

“Ahem.” Yajna cleared his throat from across the table. “We can hear you, brother. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Yavi grinned, holding Graciella’s gaze. “Oh, I won’t.”