Warrior's Heart (Book 1 of The Warrior Chronicles)

Chapter 38

A little while later, Leyla ran outside with two oil lamps and poured the liquid inside them in four short lines around the perimeter of the hut. Next, she ran back inside and pushed the dining table where Finn slept towards the furthest wall from the door and stacked furniture around it until he couldn't be seen. Then, just as the sun's last rays were withdrawing from the window ledge, she dipped thin strips of bed sheet into the remaining lamp oil and wrapped it around four arrow heads.

Darkness seeped in from the window. Any minute now, the No Landers would appear. Leyla strapped the quiver full of arrows to her back and grabbed the bow. Finn was still asleep. He had not woken since the others departed and she hoped that he would not wake until everything was over.

Taking steady breaths, she locked the door, pushed a chair against it, and doused the fire. Then, after checking on Finn one last time, she climbed out of the window and up to the roof of the hut. Though it had looked like rain earlier in the day, the dark clouds did not wet the land, but covered the skies and any moonlight that might have illuminated the ground. Normally she loved clear nights where she could count the stars, but tonight she was grateful for the darkness.

Drawing her legs into her chest to keep herself warm in the rapidly chilling air, she watched the surrounding trees. The minutes passed and her mind wandered. For a moment she imagined she was back in Asch, enjoying a cup of Ve-Ka with Jara's guards. Asch had its own dangers, but she had spent most of her time dealing with petty criminals. Men who didn't like losing to the game tables of Jade Palace, women who tried to seduce its customers, and thieves who had heard rumours of its riches. She had spent years without seeing someone die, without having to kill.

She had grown soft.

Ever since the ambush, Leyla had been battling against panic and an overwhelming desire to bury her head under a pillow and cry. She wanted to weep for soldiers who had died saving them. She wanted to cry for Flinn who was struggling to survive, alone on a table somewhere below. She wanted to forget the expressions of the men who she had cut down with her sword.

She had grown so damned soft.

Straightening her spine, Leyla took a breath and brought her palms together. Bringing her hands out from her chest raised, she exhaled and focused. Focus is what she would need if she was going to survive. Strength and focus. Everything else had to disappear. Feelings had no place on a battle field.

When the dots of light appeared in the distance, Leyla stamped out the last of her errant thoughts and counted. There were six burning torches approaching. She drew the first arrow from her quiver and placed it on her bow. She couldn't make them out clearly yet, but Leyla estimated about three men to a torch. Closer and closer they came. When they were within a few feet from the lines of flammable liquid, she aimed for the figure under the closest torch and let her first arrow fly.

Men's screams filled the air as her aim found its mark. One-two-three-four-five-six she shot one arrow after another, felling six men before the remaining torch holders realised what was happening and extinguished their lights, shrouding themselves in darkness. The sound of running let her know they were doing as she had assumed, splitting into groups and trying to surround the house.

Jumping off the roof soundlessly, Leyla ran to where the first man she shot lay with the torch still burning beside him. Pulling out one of her oil doused arrows, she lit it with the discarded torch at her feet and let it fly.

The burning arrow landed in the ground close to a group of No Landers and set the lamp fluid on the ground on fire. Suddenly four men were standing in clear sight. Leyla placed her arrows one after another and all four of them fell to the ground.