“Thianvelli’s symbol! Impossible,” said Aradatta, kneeling to look.
“Believe it, Captain,” said a grim Veer.
“Why would Thianvelli send troops here?” The captain seemed to have difficulty wrapping his mind around this new turn of events.
“Can’t you think of a reason why?” asked Veer with a sidelong glance. “Perhaps you have something they wanted.”
“The only thing of worth here is the idol,” Aradatta replied. “But we were sworn protection from the three kingdoms. It is part of a treaty.”
“Things are changing, Captain,” said Veer curtly.
Aradatta narrowed his eyes, staring at Veer with suspicion, as he stood up. “Seems like it when warriors come to our city disguised as common folk. Who are you really?”
A spire of fire shot into the sky in the distance.
Sudden realization broke perspiration at Veer’s brow, and he swore. “We have been tricked. Captain, gather your troops. The intruders are at the temple. Shota, Billadev. To me. Now.”
“But I’ve left guards at the temple—”
“The ones we fought here are decoys. There will be more at the temple. The idol is their target.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Aradatta, keeping pace with Veer as he ran.
“No time to explain…”
The sounds of fighting grew louder as they approached the temple at a run. Groans interspaced with the clang of swords and the swish of arrows. His hopes that he might have been wrong were dashed when he found the temple doors ajar. The steps that led to the temple had great jagged cracks in them.
Veer slashed his way in, found shelter behind a pillar, and scanned the fight, searching for his errant wife. He knew after seeing arrows sticking out of the dead on the ground that she wouldn’t be missing from the action.
He spotted her lone figure straddling one of the temple spires. A faint golden glow enveloped her, making her a visible target. But as he watched her, she kept moving, jumping from spire to spire, running across the terraces, ducking behind the pillars, taking out as many soldiers as she could, surefooted as a mountain goat.
Relief that she was unhurt was followed by anger that she had disobeyed his instructions.
She was on the terrace of themandapanow, hidden behind the parapets. A dried coconut frond caught fire, briefly illuminating the scene before the leaf fell crashing to the ground.
Veer sucked in a breath and took off. A group of soldiers had cornered her. Her bow lay on the ground, and she had her twin daggers in hand. He caught one of the many ropes that werestrung during the festival for decoration and swung himself up onto the terrace.
* * *
Chandra whirled around at the sudden scream behind her.
A man staggered toward her, clutching the spearhead that projected from his neck. The outstretched sword in his hand told her he was about to kill her. She peered past him and found the dark, menacing shape that had thrown the spear at her assailant.
She knew who it was despite not being able to see his face clearly. A part of her felt relieved he was here, unhurt, while another part of her flinched from the aura of violence she felt radiating from him.
He deftly yanked the spear out of the dead man’s throat and aimed it toward her, mouthing something. Eyes wide, she figured it out at the last minute and ducked. She felt the dying scream of another man and the weight of his dead body as it slumped against her.
“When you choose to assign yourself as the sniper, you need to have someone to guard your flank,” hissed her husband in a murderous whisper, approaching her and helping her throw off the dead weight of her attacker.
“I know, but I didn’t have enough men,” she said, panting as they clashed with the next group of attackers on the terrace. It didn’t take them long to dispatch them off. They stopped finally, and stared at each other, trying to catch their breath.
Chandra felt a sudden, lancing pain at her shoulder. One of the fallen soldiers, who they thought was dead, had struck her with a knife. Fortunately, her leather armor had blocked the brunt of his attack, leaving a shallow wound on the upper part of her arm.
Veer extended his hand down, his fingers hooking into claws, and raised the soldier by his neck. Rage suffused his face.
The soldier’s eyes bulged, his breath slowly wheezing past his throat as it was crushed under Veer’s fist. Chandra realized, horrified, that he was taking his time to give the fallen soldier a painful death.
“Veer,” the plea flew out of her mouth, without her volition. She wished she had kept quiet when he turned his face toward her.
