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The Rose Mark: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 1 Page 5


  "Strap yourself in," the warrior with me commanded.

  Pulling straps from a line of them inside the back, I snapped and buckled so I wouldn't be thrown out of the vehicle when it began moving.

  Farther behind us, others were scrambling to reach the purloined trucks to drive them away from the blast bowl into safer territory.

  Once all of ours were onboard and the warrior with me nodded, I placed my shield around both vehicles as commanded. Both lurched forward at the same moment, and our ascent to the top of the blast bowl began.

  Several times, I was thrown as far as my restraints would allow during the rough journey out of the bowl, but what terrified me most was the blast behind us that blew a massive cloud of sand, rock and dirt skyward before the deafening boom ever reached my ears.

  CHAPTER 4

  K erok

  "That's too damn close," Merrin shouted at me from the back of our vehicle as another explosion shook the ground behind us.

  I'd elected to travel with him on this leg, as he'd so blatantly ignored my warning not to engage or get involved with Ura or any of the other women on the trip out.

  It was far too early for the women to form an attachment, and he could get one or more of them killed by bedding them. Therefore, he had an unwelcome chaperone while Ura, strapped in and sitting not far away, concentrated on forming her shield around this vehicle and the one behind it.

  More blasts came from rockets fired by the enemy, some of which skipped off the escorts' shields on the battlefield and bounced away to land elsewhere. Elsewhere in this case turned out to be quite close to the blast bowl where we'd hidden our stolen vehicles. It couldn't be helped or controlled by our side—there was no way to predict the direction a rocket would skip or bounce.

  I'd received a mental communication from a Colonel on the battlefield, who informed me they were taking heavy fire. So far, none of the troops had been lost and they were holding up well.

  That same message also went to the King's advisor, who would record it for the archives, then draft it as a message to present to the King.

  A blast hit parallel to our convoy, causing our driver to careen to the side before righting the vehicle and speeding forward again. I imagined the same thing happened several times over, too, as our convoy was a long one.

  Are you still on the road? I sent to Sherra.

  Yes, Commander. Her reply was curt, angry and proper.

  I wasn't surprised at the formality she'd adopted. I'd barked at her before, when I shouldn't have. Perhaps I should have sent the message to Armon—he could mindspeak. I didn't want to distract him, however, and, if I were honest, I wanted to see how things stood between Sherra and me.

  Merrin would argue that she was nothing and not to waste time worrying what she thought or how she felt. I knew better than that.

  Now.

  When the next rocket hit with a resounding blast, I knew it was too close, because we skidded away from the rutted road and bounced for neck-jarring yards across pitted, rock-filled land before the driver could brake properly.

  Sherra

  Two trucks were overturned, and I wanted to weep as I struggled to unbuckle my restraints to get to them.

  The trucks I shielded were unharmed, but a rocket had breached a shield over the last two, which caused brakes to squeal and both vehicles to reel and spin several times before coming to a bone-crushing, smoking stop—one vehicle on its side, the other upside down.

  While I ran toward those overturned trucks, others joined me—men and women, as we raced to help.

  "Incoming," someone shouted behind me.

  He was right—I could hear the whine of the rocket getting close. Terrified, I skidded to a stop, my boots sliding across hard, desert ground. Turning swiftly, I gauged the distance from the front of the convoy to the back before forming a shield as fast as I could.

  Don't fire, I shouted mentally at all the warriors. We didn't need to fry ourselves and accomplish the enemy's goal for them.

  The whine stopped when the rocket hit my shield dead center, and I'll never forget the moment of calm silence before the ground rocked beneath our feet and our ears were deafened from the explosion above our heads.

  K erok

  "Temporary deafness, I think," Armon shook his head at me when I asked him to report on Sherra. "No idea how much power she has left, either. That was a direct hit. She didn't know to angle and lift the shield so the rocket would skip off and land somewhere else."

  "I doubt anyone else could have shielded the entire convoy and angled their shield at the same time," I pointed out.

  "That's true," Armon frowned as he studied the length of the convoy. "Two or three trucks, maybe. Not the whole thing."

  "At least things have died down for now. We lost two in the last truck—a warrior and the escort."

  "Are we carrying the bodies with us?" Armon asked.

  "Yes. We don't have time for a burial here. We need to get going. Leave the two wrecked vehicles behind and load the others where they'll fit. We have broken bones to be tended while we're on the road. Someone can scavenge the wrecks for parts later. Tell everyone to load up and head out."

  "I'll take care of it," Armon agreed and trotted away to inform the others.

  Merrin was noticeably absent; he knew I was angry with him. Armon and Levi were next on the command chain, so they'd see that things got done. We needed to be underway again soon, if we were to reach our midway point before exhaustion hit.

  Less than half an hour later, we were loaded up and on the road again. I hadn't planned on losing a trainee or a warrior on this trip, but war was war, and nothing was predictable about any of it.

  Sherra

  I had difficulty hearing when someone spoke to me. That meant I struggled to read lips. Armon began to feed me orders by mindspeaking, and I was grateful. Those I could hear perfectly.

  I was also grateful that I only had two trucks to shield again—providing such a large shield and taking such a massive hit to protect the convoy had lessened my strength considerably.

  Levi sat beside me now in the back of the truck, instead of the warrior I'd started out with. I was grateful for that, too, as Levi looked sympathetic, at least, as we bounced along the uneven, rutted track they called a road.

  I had water in a canteen nearby—I'd already emptied two of them after the rocket hit my shield. I felt continually thirsty—as if the water had been sucked from my body along with my energy.

  I suppose this is what it felt like on the front lines. No wonder the escorts failed and died after a while. The effort to shield so much was debilitating, and they only had continuous days of the same thing to look forward to when the enemy came to do battle.

  Long past nightfall, we reached the midway point—a small, military post where wounded were often brought from the battlefield for treatment. Regular supplies came from farther down the valley, including food and medicines.

  The survivors of the wrecked vehicles were unloaded carefully and carted away for better treatment than we were able to provide, while I unbuckled myself from the wall straps and rose stiffly from the uncomfortable bench I sat on. The two bodies were taken in a different direction—I hoped they'd get proper burial and their families notified.

  "Need—help?" Levi spoke beside me. At least my hearing had improved somewhat during the trip; I heard part of what he said and guessed the rest.

  "No," I shook my head, puzzled by the way my words sounded to my own ears—as if they'd been stuffed with buzzing fluff.

  "Food," I caught Levi's word among several others, as he pointed to the lines forming nearby. Our fellow troops were lining up to march to the warrior's mess, it appeared.

  With a nod, I fell in step behind him, while Armon took the position behind me. Flanked by both, we made our way to a long building, where the scent of food reached my nostrils and almost sent me to my knees in welcoming bliss.

  K erok

  She hears less than half of what we say,
Armon informed me as he and Levi made sure Sherra received enough food to replenish lost reserves.

  Each pod sat at their own table; the last one missing a warrior and an escort. Ura and Merrin sat at the table next to mine; I sat at the table with the facility Commandant and his Chief of Medicine.

  My eyes strayed often to Ura, however, who gazed longingly at Merrin before turning narrowed, jealousy-filled eyes toward Sherra.

  It made me angry—Ura's life had been saved, along with that of the rest of our convoy, and she settled on hatred toward the one who'd saved her ass. I had no doubt that the Bulldog had encouraged this behavior rather than dealing with it as she should, and I considered reporting it now, instead of later.

  Time would tell whether I actually followed through with that idea or not, but I resolved to watch Ura and the Bulldog closely from now on.

  "You're lucky to be alive," Chief of Medicine Welton said, drawing my attention back to my dinner companions.

  "True enough," I agreed. "My father is understandably grateful. I sent a personal message to him, after the official report was delivered."

  "Mindspeak is perhaps the best of gifts," Welton nodded.

  "Mindspeak and a strong shield," I amended his words.

  "Very true."

  Sherra

  Seasoned warriors often experience hearing loss after time spent on the battlefield, Armon informed me as I was escorted to the women's barracks. Your hearing should be better in the morning, but it may take several days before it feels normal again.

  "Thank you," I said aloud, my words sounding tinny and false to my damaged senses. I only wanted to go inside the barracks, find my duffel and an empty bed. The first two things went well. The last one—Ura managed to fuck that up for all of us.

  K erok

  I had no idea I'd be called from a deep sleep to handle a brawl that erupted in the women's barracks. I'd borrowed the Post Commandant's office to handle the impromptu complaints and make decisions, while four glowering trainees sat before me.

  Ura's left eye was swollen shut and turning purple—she sat on her chair fuming and casting accusing glances toward Caral. Neka sat beside Caral, while Wend had scooted her chair away from Ura's to distance herself from all of it.

  "Which of you can tell me, in the briefest and most honest way possible, exactly what happened?" I asked, practicing my best, low, calming voice. Not easy to do while seething inside at the foolishness I was faced with, when all of us should be asleep.

  Wend held up a tentative hand.

  "Wend," I nodded to her to begin.

  "As you know, Sherra can't hear very well right now," she began, her voice and manner quite nervous.

  "Understood—go on."

  "The moment Sherra found her duffel beside a cot, she sat down to take her boots off. Ura went right up to her and started making fun of her mindspeak."

  "In what way?" I cut my eyes from Wend to Ura and then back again.

  "She said Sherra was a stupid bitch who thought she was so smart for being able to do it," Neka broke in.

  "Did I ask for your input?" I snapped at Neka.

  "No, Commander." She went silent and hung her head.

  "Right. Wend, was that what Ura said?"

  "Yes. She called Sherra a bitch, who was showing off because she thought she was better than anyone else."

  "Has Sherra ever said anything like that?"

  "I've never heard her say anything like that. She works hard and keeps her opinions to herself."

  "What happened after Ura accosted Sherra?" I prompted.

  "Sherra didn't understand all of Ura's words, so she asked her to repeat them."

  "Ah. What then?"

  "Ura spoke them more loudly, and called Sherra a mindless, hearing-impaired dolt afterward. Caral walked up, then, grabbed Ura's arm and told her to shut up because she didn't know anything, including how to count."

  Neka looked away to hide a tiny smile.

  "What was Sherra doing?"

  "Sitting on her bunk, trying to make sense of what was happening, I think," Wend explained. "She looked really tired."

  "Go on."

  "Ura pulled her arm away from Caral and tried to hit her. She missed, but Caral didn't."

  "Did Ura fight back?"

  "No, sir, she was unconscious on the floor after Caral's first punch."

  I wanted to laugh. I didn't.

  "Was anyone else involved in this altercation?"

  "No, sir," Wend said. "I'd gone to sit with Sherra while Ura had her say. Caral and Neka came right after, and then those things happened."

  "Neka?" I turned toward her.

  "It's like Wend says." She didn't look up at me.

  "Caral?"

  "I punched her, sir. I'm prepared to take the demerits."

  "Ura?" I settled on her last.

  "Permission to speak freely?" she asked.

  "You have that permission, as long as what you say is truth and not personal opinion or conjecture."

  "Then I have nothing to say."

  "Good. Caral—five demerits. That puts you in Fifth group to choose a warrior. Earn more demerits and you'll be in the last group, understood?"

  "Yes, sir," Caral nodded at her sentence.

  "Ura," I began.

  "She injured me," Ura spat before turning toward Caral and attempting to swat at her.

  "Levi," I snapped. He and Armon stood beside the Commandant's door, acting as guards while I passed judgment.

  Levi stepped forward to restrain Ura, who still wanted to strike Caral.

  "Ura," I said, weariness in my voice, "tonight you will sleep in solitary confinement in the lock-up. You have seven demerits."

  "Nooo," she shouted as Armon stepped forward to help Levi haul her out of the office.

  "The rest of you, go to bed. If I hear anything else out of the women's barracks tonight, I'll hand demerits to everyone. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good. Leave. Sleep. We have another long day tomorrow."

  My hand went to the back of my neck when Wend closed the door behind them. Fucking hell. I knew better than to humor Merrin on bringing Ura along. I considered giving him demerits too, as I rose from the Commandant's chair before returning to my borrowed bed.

  Sherra

  I still had ringing in my ears the following morning, but I could hear better. That was and wasn't a good thing, as every woman in our barracks was whispering about the altercation between Caral and Ura the night before.

  All because Ura was jealous and spoiled by the Bulldog into thinking she was better than she was.

  Caral had received five demerits for punching Ura; Ura received seven for becoming combative again in front of Commander Kerok.

  That dropped her into the last group to choose a warrior from the list. While that wouldn't bother me, it would certainly bother her—she expected to be first to pick, with Veri second.

  At the end of our training, the warriors would sign their names to the list of any escorts they were interested in. The escorts would then choose a warrior from that list. The farther down the round of lists you were, the more likely it was that the best warriors would be taken already. At the end of the rounds, there was often little choice remaining, as some warriors signed every list because they were least likely to be selected in the first three or four rounds.

  Ura had hamstrung herself as far as choices went, and training wasn't over yet. Caral was almost as bad off.

  "Come on—we'll be late for breakfast," Jae tugged on my sleeve as I smoothed the blanket on my made-up cot.

  I followed her and Wend toward the door, grateful that Ura wouldn't be released from lock-up until it was time to leave.

  She wouldn't be locked up when we went back to the Bulldog, however, and that concerned me a great deal.

  The combined bootsteps of eight women echoed on the cobbled walkway as we made our way to the mess for breakfast. In moments, the warriors' steps matched ours, following behind us.
r />   I didn't turn to look back, but kept moving. I'm sure they were as hungry as we were after the experiences of the day before.

  Theirs, for the most part, had ended at bedtime. Ours had continued past it. Squaring my shoulders, I hoped to put it out of my mind and enjoy my meal.

  K erok

  Jae and Sherra marched at the back of their group on the way to breakfast. I studied both—Jae was slightly shorter than Sherra, and not quite as thin.

  That meant nothing to me. I intended to speak with others who waited in the capital city regarding the events the day before, and how we'd escaped with our lives through the talents of a half-trained escort.

  We'd lost two, but that was prior to Sherra's actions to save the entire convoy from a direct hit. Had Ura not been prevented, things could have gotten much worse the night before. I considered that Caral's demerits were earned, but she'd also provided a shield of sorts where it was most needed at the time, to protect an exhausted escort.

  The prospect of staring down the Bulldog, too, presented itself. She wouldn't appreciate the fact that one of her favorites had earned more demerits in a single incident than the entire training class had earned together up to now.

  I'd been prepared to issue five to each combatant. Two more were tacked onto Ura's tally when she attempted to strike Caral during my interview. I'd never seen behavior like this, when Ura had to know there'd be consequences.

  Cursing myself again for selecting her at Merrin's official request, I shut off that line of thinking and began planning the rest of the day.

  Sherra

  "Heard there was a bit of excitement in the women's barracks last night," Levi grinned as he set his breakfast tray beside mine. Armon took my other side before I could form a reply.

  "Maybe it would be excitement for you—I was still half-deaf and too tired to know what was happening," I grumbled and lifted my cup of tea to drink. "Besides, one of ours died yesterday. A fight wasn't the best way to deal with it."