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"I will not." Kallie knew how to fight and she fought well when she was trying. She would not be a hindrance but an asset. Didn’t they understand that? On the other hand, Graeson did just admit that he did not trust her. Perhaps her brother did not either.
“Kalisandre,” Terin said, and the look on his face forced her back into the saddle.
She leaned to the right to peer through the trees. The soldiers were too busy fighting Dani and Fynn to notice the creature slinking out of the woods, for Graeson was not a man. Neither a stranger nor a friend. At that moment, he was a beast, the monster in the myths she had been told about as a child personified.
His movements were rigid, yet fluid; confident, yet inhuman as he struck one soldier down, the woman falling to her death in silence. Kallie was both terrified and awestruck as she watched Graeson work. Unlike when she had seen him use his skills before, she was not his mark and could afford to watch this time. His weapons became an extension of himself as he swept the scimitars across the ground and sliced through two more soldiers. And Kallie understood why the others had allowed Graeson to guard her alone.
Graeson fought as if the gods had molded him for the sole purpose of slaying his enemies.
His sharp blades slid across the dirt as he stood tall once again. They hung at his sides, his shoulders hunched like a bear approaching its prey. The soldiers before him stood paralyzed as they took in their fallen comrades. And then one soldier, a burly man, wider than Graeson, charged.
Metal met metal as the sword clashed against the scimitars.
While the man distracted Graeson, another soldier took his chance and slid across the ground, aiming for Graeson's ankles. A thin layer of sweat formed on Kallie's palms as she clenched her fingers around the reins and waited for the blow.
It never came though.
Graeson jumped back, simultaneously avoiding contact with the blade while putting the needed distance between himself and the first opponent.
The second attacker pushed himself off the ground. With the back of his hand, he wiped his mouth of blood. Then the two soldiers sprinted forward.
One swung high, the other low. One was quick, the other rough. Yet, Graeson blocked each blow. Metal clashed, the smell of iron tainted the air.
As the three fought, Fynn and Dani continued their dance with the three remaining soldiers. Dani's positioning seemed jilted though. Then Kallie noted how the woman kept putting herself on one side of Fynn, and Kallie realized Dani was providing support to Fynn's injured side.
While Dani struck offensively, Fynn dealt out only defensive maneuvers as if he was preserving his energy. Still, each move was calculated, careful; his ability to analyze his opponent, admirable.
Then Fynn did the unspeakable and closed his eyes.
Kallie wanted to shout, to yell at him. For what fool intentionally made himself vulnerable to an opponent? Her breath hitched as a strike came toward his neck. A death blow, for sure.
Even though he didn't see it coming, Fynn managed to dodge it.
Then Kallie understood. He was listening to his opponent's thoughts, seeing each move before and as he made it. Even with a fresh wound stunting his movements, his ability to fight, he was still capable.
Still, the Pontians struggled. Exhaustion wore on their movements. Dirt and sweat made their hair stick to the sides of their faces.
And near them, Graeson continued to fight against the two soldiers. Kallie had seen what he could do; she had seen the brutal deaths of her soldiers he had caused when the Pontians had attacked her carriage. Had seen the merciless way he had fought. Yet Graeson had not put an end to the lives of these soldiers. He fought as if something was holding him back.
Kallie turned to Terin. "They need help."
Terin did not look at her, his gaze locked on his brother. "We stay put."
His words sent her emotions spiraling. She did not care for this group of people—blood or not. But she did not want them to die either. They still served a purpose. "Terin, Fynn is injured," she spat. "They won't be able to keep this up!"
"Graeson's here. It will be fine."
"One man is not enough!" When Terin did not respond, she rubbed her palms against her face in agitation. "If you won't help them, then I will."
Terin dragged his attention away from the fight. "No, you will not. You will sit here and donothing,Kalisandre. Your interference will only make matters worse."
"You might be my brother, but you donotcontrol me. No man does."
With one hand, she grabbed the pommel, lifted a leg over to the other side, and then Terin's fingers locked around her wrist. "Unhand me," Kallie said through clenched teeth.
"Then stay on your horse. Or else I will force you to stay. And I promise the dreams you will have will make your past nightmares seem childish."
Her heart thudded against her chest. Her gaze dropped to his hand. It would be easy for her to manipulate him. To force him to help or to unhand her—to do anything she commanded because unlike for Graeson, Kallie knew her ability would work on Terin.
