The Charmer

42

A blazing wall of fire flared up directly in front of the gates, and eleven riders charged out, up the ramp, and through the flames. Jasmine glowered at them. She was determined not to be impressed no matter what antics they pulled.

That idea lasted all of three minutes.

When the first stag beast sailed over Keilor, he raked its belly with the tip of his sword, just cutting through its rider’s girth. Jasmine thought she would have heart failure. When the rider managed to shed his saddle in mid-air, and regain his seat on his stag, she knew this was going to be nothing like yesterday.

The stags were as vicious as their masters, and astonishingly limber. It was amazing the men could even keep their seats, let alone still have the ability to strike at one another with such strength and speed. Blue sparks showered from each strike, but perhaps they didn’t burn, for the unprotected arms of the warriors never flinched.

Jasmine did their flinching for them.

The battle raged hot and furious, and it didn’t stop until one rider ended up in the dust. Drums sounded and a horn blew, and that battle was over.

The men barely had time to wipe the sweat and grime from their faces with the backs of their hands when fireworks exploded practically under their stag’s feet. Jasmine gripped her chair, afraid she was going to see guts. An opaque blue haze rose up, obscuring the scattered riders from view. When the sound of battle rose from the blue smoke, Jayems explained without prompting, “They’re fighting blind, using scent, hearing, and kinetic sense to find their opponents. The stag is particularly useful for such combat, as its kinetic sense and bravery match that of a Haunt. A horse would be worse than useless in such a fight.”

Jasmine wanted to ask what kinetic sense was, but she was busy. She gripped the arms of her chair and strained in vain to catch a glimpse of what was going on in the cloud.

“Man down!” someone shouted, and immediately the haze began to clear. Nine riders appeared out of the smoke, and one man limped off the field, holding on to his stag.

Dread snaked through her, and Jasmine bit her lip. Before she could think, she said to Jayems, “Make them stop. I’m not worth this.” Jayems looked at her, but didn’t say a word.

It was too late anyway.

With an ominous creak, the gates opened again and spawned a new horror. Thirty Haunt soldiers marched out and surrounded the riders, who backed their mounts into a loose ring. These were not cadets. Jasmine began to rise to her feet, but Jayems clamped a hand on her arm and dragged her back down. He kept it manacled around her wrist, too, just as a precaution.

Jasmine couldn’t sit still. The Haunt advanced with eerie silence, and the only sounds were the grunts of the fighters and the clash of blades. She tried to remind herself that no one was going to be killed, that this wasn’t a real battle, but there was nothing feigned about the cat-like maneuvers and powerful strikes of the Haunt.

A man was finally dragged, swearing, off his mount. Several women screamed as the Haunt swarmed over him, and only Jayems’ hand on her forearm kept her in her seat. Incredibly, the black sea seemed to struggle for several long seconds, and at least one Haunt drew back with a roar of rage before the warrior was bound and d**g off. The procedure was repeated until only six riders and precious few Haunt remained.

“They’re fighting under a handicap,” Jayems explained, perhaps trying to distract her. “If not for that, we would have needed to use more than twice as many Haunt.”

Jasmine’s lips parted. More than twice?

For the first time, she noticed that the three captured men had been dragged over to the wall next to the gates, and now hung there, chained with their hands over their heads. Their feet barely touched the ground. More Haunt poured onto the field, surrounding them. The six remaining riders briefly conferred, and then they attacked.

Flash grenades exploded. Mathin swept in close on his stag and swung a whip at the legs of the Haunt front line, dragging several down. One of the other riders had a cord with weighted ends, and he took out a soldier by throwing it around his neck as he rode by, letting the weight at the ends twist around his neck. Unfortunately, the Haunt had the same cords, and one of the stags went down with it wrapped around his legs. His rider continued to fight on foot while the stag was freed and rushed out of battle.

A commotion started at the back of the line, and Jasmine gasped. Somehow, one of the chained warriors had gotten loose, commandeered a blade, and freed one of his brothers. They were wreaking havoc from the back of the line.

Deafening cheers broke out from the crowd, and this time Jayems let her go as she rose to her feet, urging the fighters on at the top of her lungs. They were winning!

Keilor thundered by and with a powerful move that could have severed the man’s wrist if he’d missed, he flung his tomahawk at the chains binding the third man. The mob went wild with exuberance when the head buried itself deeply in the wall, severing the chains and freeing the prisoner.

The cheering turned to boos and hisses of outrage as more Haunt poured out of the gates in an endless black wave. It took them a considerable amount of effort, but finally, only Keilor and Mathin were left mounted.

Drums pounded and Jasmine settled back into her seat as the Haunt receded, taking its prisoners along with it. Mathin and Keilor dismounted and sent their stags off the field.

“Now they fight to determine the winner,” Jayems explained to her.

She tried to calm down, a little shocked at how difficult it was. This morning she’d been determined to hate the men who were fighting so heroically, convinced she was worth nothing to any of them. How could she still believe that after seeing them today? How could any woman be unmoved by the sheer magnetism of such powerful, masterful men?

And they fought for her! These primal, beautiful men fought over her! She’d never even been given flowers before she came here, and now men fought for her as if she were a prize worth dying for. The enormity of it made her thoughts spin.