Disclaimer: Let's see here (pulls out a piece of paper). Dang, this is just my math homework, not the rights to TNT's The Last Ship or Anne Bishop's The Black Jewels Trilogy. However I really do enjoy playing in both their worlds.

StarTraveler: Good guess, glad you're still reading this.

Mathi Bear: Thanks for the input, little details like clothing and physical descriptions don't seem to flow well when I'm typing, but I'll definitely work on incorporating them in more. Any other critiques you have will be greatly appreciated.

Chapter Seven

The enemy Warlord Prince gave a garbled yell as he charged Tom, long hair flying. Tom met him blade for blade on the killing field, snarling. Their blades sang as they clashed, Tom pulled his blade back and swung at the enemy again.

Dimly he was aware of Burk and Miller moving to hem in the other Warlord Prince. Burk added his own Opal shield to Tom's, taking off some of the drain of the spell net. There was nothing that could be done for Smith at the moment.

For Tom there as only the enemy who staggered under his second blow. The enemy Warlord Prince was physically weakened, Tom couldn't sense any Jewel power from his, and there was a crazed look to his killing edge-glazed eyes. A drained male lost without a Queen. Even with his shields depleted, Tom knew he was the victor of this particular battle.

The other Warlord Prince was too taxed to win the fight and he knew it too. But that didn't stop him from coming at Tom with everything he had in him, just as any Warlord Prince would. Despite his condition the Warlord Prince put up a good fight. He lunged and struck out with his blade in a deadly song, keeping to the offense as much as Tom.

Then the enemy fighter feinted left and struck at Tom's ribs; Tom pared the blow and countered with a thrust to the abdomen. The other man blocked the blow, but lost his grip on his blade for a moment. The precious seconds it took for him to recover his hold gave Tom the perfect opening into his guard.

Punching through the weakening spell net, Tom broke it and was free. He turned his full power and anger on the Warlord Prince who'd dared to challenge him to this killing field. He swung his blade, coming in for the kill blow and his enemy closed his eyes, accepting.

Then he felt the probing psychic presence, dark and feminine, commanding and soothing; Rachel.

Tom hesitated. The other Warlord Prince's eyes snapped open again, but the crazed look was gone from his expression. The man dropped his blade, for the first time recognizing Tom as like; then he stepped away from the killing field and the killing edge, conveying it in his stance and actions. Tom lowered his blade and the other Warlord Prince dropped to his knees, exhausted.

The fight was over, Tom vanished his blade, his priorities changed. A glance to Burk had the Prince stationing himself as guard behind the unknown Warlord Prince. Then Tom went to Smith, gesturing for Miller to join him. He'd talk to Rachel about her probing later, in person, when he was feeling more polite.

Reaching Smith, Tom was relieved to find the wound wasn't as grave as he'd first assumed. The javelin had pierced the young Warlord through the right shoulder, missing anything vital. Smith had lost a lot of blood and was initially unconscious when Tom reached him. In a Healer's hands, Tom knew the young man would survive, but getting him to one in time would be the challenge.

"Lay still Lord Smith," Tom commanded as he tested the wound and woke the Warlord, offering his a reassuring smile; "You took a bad hit, but if you're stubborn enough you'll pull through with a new scar to impress the ladies with. Unfortunately, before we get to that part, there is going to be more pain."

"I can handle it Prince," Smith rasped, trying to hold himself still.

"I had no doubt of that," Tom replied, directing Miller to immobilize Smith's upper body; "Are you ready?"

"Ye-agh!" Smith screamed as Tom sheared off the head of the javelin and pulled it out from under the Warlord.

Tom just as swiftly sheared off all but a hand's width of the butt of the javelin, leaving the rest in the young man so that it remained to restrict the blood loss. He snapped Sapphire shields around the both ends of the wound and applied what little of healing Craft he knew. It was nothing more than basic triage, but hopefully enough to get him back to the Nathan James.

"How is he?" an unfamiliar voice asked and Tom turned to look at the other Warlord Prince; "I do hope the fellow's goin' to live, didn't mean to attack brothers; thought y'all were landens."

"Landens?" Tom asked sharply.

"My crew and I went out to gather coral plants for the Healers. When we got back the landens were attakin' the Blood, slaughterin' us to prevent the plague from killin' their people. My men and I fought, defended with all we had, but we failed. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, we failed them all. Landens got all my men, dead; I barely escaped, swore to collect on the debt before I became a whisper in the Darkness."

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Hugh undid the final knot of Summer-sky thread under Andrea's guidance and the lock fell apart, the last one to go. Then it was a simple matter of applying the appropriate amount of power at the weakest spots on the shields to break them and Hugh and his team were into the Craft shop.

"Bishop, find a high position; I'll take low once Tophet and I have cleared the shop."

Bishop scanned for a good position, remaining to guard Andrea as the other two men entered the store. Clearing the building didn't take long, though there was a second exited that he had to secure, and then as Hugh slipped out of the door, Andrea slipped in. Hugh took up the low position he'd decided upon before entering, while Bishop headed to his chosen high spot. The two inside worked through their respective lists as quickly as they could.

*You're eleven,* Bishop warned on a thread several minutes later.

Hugh had just enough time to wrap another shield around his plague-protective shield before a dozen quarrels struck him. The quarrels hit his shields and burst upon impact, Hugh prepared himself for the draining pull of Craft that was meant to break through his shields. Only the drain never came, which confused him, as he called his blade in and searched for the attackers.

*I can't sense any Jewels,* Bishop said as he tried to target their unseen enemy.

More quarrels flew at Hugh and struck his shields, taking only the minimal energy from him required to deflect the missiles. There was no Craft attached to the quarrels and they burst upon impact with his shields. Considering the facts, Hugh realized they were facing off against landens. Whether or not the non-Blood humans intended to challenge them to a real fight, he couldn't be certain of at the moment; experience had taught him landens only fought the Blood when they had enough numbers to lose in the slaughter and these landens were hiding.

*Tophet, take the lady out through the back way and get her back to the skiff,* Hugh ordered on a private thread, then switched to common; *Landens are attacking, we'll defend and then retreat.*

Hugh was grateful that there were no Warlord Princes apart of his team; otherwise this skirmish would've already become a blood bath. As a Prince he was not as easy to pull onto a killing field and he certainly wasn't going to rise to the killing edge because some pig-brained landens decided to shoot arrows at him. His temper rising all the same, he sent out a burst of Summer-sky power in the direction most of the quarrels were coming from, and watched as the house buckled, but didn't completely collapse under the attack. If they were just dealing with some arrogant landen boys looking for a fight, that show of power on the house would make an impressive tale for any sweethearts to croon over and would take care of the problem.

Then everything happened at once.

The first thing Hugh noticed was the smell of fire, just before the flaming arrows streaked at the Craft shop behind him.

*Attention all crew,* Tom called out on a common thread; *The landen have turned against the Blood, prepare to fight, they are out for blood.*

From the back to the shop, Andrea cried out, and Hugh felt Quincy rise to the killing edge.

*She's hurt,* the Bryt Warlord snarled on a spear thread.

Hugh and Bishop rose to the killing edge in response. Blood males could handle threats against their own lives with only getting a rise out of their tempers, but an attack on a female sent them straight to the killing field, no matter her caste.

The lives of the attacking landens were now forfeit.

Hugh sent three successive, Craft-laced burst of power in the directions of the remaining archers. The shadowy lives he sensed there were snuffed out in a heartbeat. Then he plowed through the shop that was beginning to catch flame to Andrea. There was no time to fight the flames, the store was lost.

Officer Bishop stayed to guard the front and finish off any remaining landen in the vicinity. As they weren't Blood, tracking them down psychically wasn't easy, but the young man had been trained to do such a task and would get the job done. Hugh made it to the back, to see Quincy holding his own against a small squad of landen fighters. Andrea was tucked away in a corner, well-shielded and focused on her injury. Hugh stepped onto the killing field and joined Quincy in fighting the landens. They took out the ground forces first, then focused on the archers trying to pin the down. Bishop came around from the opposite direction, finishing off a few of the landen men who tried to flee when they realized they were on the losing end of this battle.

In a matter of minutes, the Hugh's team had killed all the landens and turned their possessive, protective tempers on the witch in their care.

*I need the Healer in Gitmo for Andrea, now!* Hugh snapped across a thread to the Nathan James.

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Danny was gritting his teeth when his team finally reached the village closest to the Territory Queen's Residence. He'd heard the warning from the Captain and could sense the fight Prince Jeter was in back in Gitmo, but he was duty bound to keep to his mission instead of help in the fight. Not that Prince Jeter and Officer Bishop were incompetent; Danny just didn't like being on the sidelines, of feeling like he was failing his Queen and his brothers-in-arms.

His kindred friend never had that problem. Halsey obeyed and did his duty with everything he had in him no matter the task, believing that all others would do the same. He was a faithful, reliable friend and male. Most days Danny found his friend's dedication entertaining and even humbling, others days he found it aggravating. Today, it was bordering on grating.

*This way, Danny, the rabbit food is this way,* Halsey declared, very pleased with himself as he trotted through the abandoned village.

"Rabbit food? Doesn't Lord Halsey know we're looking for medicinal herbs?" Cossetti asked.

"Oh he knows, he just likes to call human things in animal terms," Danny muttered back.

Danny took point, following after Halsey, while Cossetti and Lance guarded his six. They were lucky a second Healer lived so close to the Queen's Residence and had been on record. They'd been able to plan this approach as a backup in case the residence hadn't had all the plants they needed. It would have been simpler to have just come straight to this little village, rather than make the trek into the Queen's Residence. They'd created the plan they did not only to verify the state of the Territory Court, but because the Territory Queen would've had a Black Widow in her court and those witches were otherwise near impossible to track down. Lady Scott was lucky the landens had only destroyed the Healer's gardens at the residence, but then they probably hadn't realized there was a Black Widow garden on the property.

*I smell humans,* Halsey warned, coming to a stop.

Danny felt himself rising to the killing edge, his temper already frayed with what was happening elsewhere on the island.

*Where is the Healer's garden?* he asked putting duty first, Halsey pointed to the house directly in front of them; *And where are the humans?*

Halsey again pointed to the house in front of them. Calling in his blade, Danny wrapped a sight-shield around his body and signaled for Cossetti and Lance to wait. He stalked around the house, Halsey on his heels, also sight-shielded. They came around the building to see two lanky, landen youths playing a game of cards on the ground next to the guarded.

Danny took a step forward, seeing only the enemy, not boys. Two bursts of power were all it would take to extinguish the feeble minds contained in landen flesh. Then he and his team would be safe to complete their mission and there would be two less dangers to the Blood on the island. Halsey sensed his intentions and threw a Purple Dusk shield in his path. The shield wasn't an obstacle for a Green Jeweled Warlord like Danny, but Halsey nipping at his heels and threatening to bite higher made him stop. Jewel strength and the proper respect afforded to one's rank didn't mean anything when Sceltie teeth were involved.

*Rachel says enough people have died, we only kill if they attack first,* Halsey informed him; *They are just being dumb sheep, we must herd them away.*

*And if I don't want to herd them away?* Danny growled at Halsey, spear to spear.

*Then you are being a dumb sheep and I am to herd you away first, then the human puppies.*

Danny scowled at the Sceltie, knowing there was no point in arguing. Once the kindred dog set his mind on something, there was no getting around him. Besides the puppies comment had him feeling a little guilty.

Danny retreated from the fight, heading back around the house to Cossetti and Lance. When they were back on the Nathan James though, he promised to have a talk with Halsey about his new found obedience and deference to the Brytol witch, there was something off about the dog's loyalty.

"Sir?" Cossetti asked as he pulled the men back several houses so they could talk.

"There are a couple of boys guarding the garden. We don't need to kill them, but we need to get them out of the way," he could see the other men wanted to argue and decided to spare them the confrontation with Halsey that would cause; "They're just boys. We would be no better than the landens if we killed children, understood?"

"Yessir," they responded, a little guilty too.

"All right then, here's my plan," Danny said and proceeded to outline what needed to be done.

Before he'd gone to the mountains to train as a warrior, Danny had grown up in a village not far from a landen settlement. His father had been a handyman who'd helped out Blood and landen alike, and there had been times Danny had accompanied his father when he went to work for the landens. As such Danny had had landen friends growing up and had learned quite a bit about what the landens thought of the Blood, just as the landens had learned what the Blood thought of the landens, and both parties had come away wiser because of it.

Under his guidance Cossetti, Lance, and even Halsey, who decided he wanted in on the fun, cast a few spells to change their appearances. Then Danny went over their parts with them once more, and then they were ready to roll.

Sight-shielded Danny approached the garden again, this time without his war blade in hand. When he was only a few paces away from the landen boys, who were still engrossed in their game of cards and doing a terrible job guarding, he stopped.

"Have you come with the offering?" Danny moaned, making his voice rasp and echo with a little bit of Craft.

The boys jumped up, scrambling for their spears and bows. The way they trembled was almost comical, if not for the threat they posed to him and his team.

"Who, who's there?" the taller of the two boys spit out.

"The offering," Danny moaned again, shifting a little closer to the older, slightly braver boy; "Where is the blood offering for the dead?"

The boys squeaked and moved away from Danny's voice. The one with the spear swung in wildly about in Danny's direct and he plucked it from the boy's had rather than risk getting hit, then he tossed it away from the boys, further scaring them.

Then the rattling began, as if someone in chains was approaching from around the house. The boys edged towards the forest on the other side of the house. The older boy tried to draw his bow, but was trembling too much to do so properly. Then Cossetti and Lance came around the house, their skin bleached white, ugly slashes on their chests and faces and necks. Through Craft they wore the red blotches and rashes of the plague victims, blood streaming from eyes, ears, and mouths. To top it all off, their eyes were dark red, eyes of the demon-dead according to the landen boys Danny had known until he'd taught them otherwise.

The landen boys were quaking, trying to scramble backwards, but unwilling to turn their backs on the nightmares approaching them.

"Blood," Danny moaned again as he felt Halsey brush up against his legs.

With a nudge of Craft, the older boy dropped his bow. Then Halsey appeared before the boys, fur matted in blood and eyes blood red, a demon-dead dog, and he growled. With terrified yelps the boys turned and ran into the trees, Halsey chasing them for a bit, weaponless and too petrified to return any time soon.

Danny and the men had a short laugh at the boys' expense. Playing a trick certainly was more pleasant than stepping onto the killing field.

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Rachel had retired to her room onboard the Nathan James once the retrieval teams had set out. She'd promised Quincy and Halsey that she would rest while they were gone, but she doubted they would've called what she did resting. But since they weren't there to fuss, Rachel tinkered with spells as she wished in the privacy of her workroom. Trapped on a ship at sea, there was nothing else for her to do to calm her nerves and it was relaxing in its own way, even if it wasn't restful.

When Halsey had contacted her and shown her the clearing, asking what was wrong, Rachel had given up the pretense. She'd made her way to the bridge, trying to think up an excuse for her presence before she arrived. She'd never needed an excuse to get into the thick of the action before and had a feeling her arguments would have been weak even to a child's ears.

Luckily, no one had said a thing when she'd slipped onto the bridge. The crew on duty accepted her presence without the blink of an eye. Alisha Granderson had given her a smile and Prince Slattery had nodded at her, but no one asked her to leave.

She kept to the shadows, keeping an eye on the uses of Jewel power from the depths of her Gray. When Prince Chandler had thrown up shields that drained much too quickly, Rachel had investigated with a gentle psychic touch. She'd been shocked by the presence of the other Warlord Prince, barely able to feel him, but aware that he and all the other males could sense her. She'd sensed that the Warlord Smith and the unknown Warlord Prince were in need of a Healer and gave Kara Foster a quick forewarning before Prince Chandler contacted Prince Slattery.

"Barker, find Rios, the two of you are going to escort Healer Foster to Tanamo," Mike barked out once he'd finished his conversation with Tom; "Smith has been badly hurt and there's a drained Warlord Prince in need of assistance."

"Aye sir," Barker replied and hurried out of sight.

Mike sent orders down to the deck for the fourth skiff to be prepped for departure, Kara needing only a few more minutes thanks to Rachel's early warning. Then Rachel felt Quincy come under attack, felt his entire team come under attack. She honed in on her escort and felt him rise to the killing edge and knew the reason why. Though the distance drained far more than she cared to admit, Rachel tossed up Gray-strength shields around Quincy, Lady Andrea, Prince Hugh, and Officer Bishop, with only Quincy aware of her actions.

*It's over,* Quincy snapped at her once he stepped back from the killing edge and Rachel dropped her shields and withdrew before he could start growling at her.

When Prince Hugh called for the Healer to attend Andrea, Rachel was ready. Lady Andrea's leg injury was bad, but Lord Smith's wound was far more grievous. None the less, the males would pick Andrea's safety over Smith's, for in their minds a male was the expendable one, and Smith wouldn't survive the wait for Kara to get to him second. Well Rachel refused to let that happen:

"I'll go to treat Lord Smith," she said before Prince Mike could make the decision she knew he was going to make.

"No," Mike responded immediately.

"I have the training Prince, and Lord Smith won't survive otherwise," Rachel tried to reason with him.

"Respectfully, my answer remains the same Lady."

Rachel gave him points for sticking with the line he'd drawn while she was frowning at him with the look that cowered lesser men. However he wasn't the Captain of the ship, nor her escort, nor a yapping, nosy Sceltie, and she outranked him. She wasn't taking no for an answer, not with a good man's life at stake.

"Enough people have died Prince Slattery; I will not stand by and let another be lost, not when I can do something about it. While I respect your concern for my well-being, I am going regardless, but I will consent to however many escorts you feel are appropriate."

She gave him the only compromise she was willing to make and squared off to see what he would do. Prince Mike considered her for several minutes, came to the conclusion he couldn't win, and agreed then to the compromise with only a tic of his cheek betraying his displeasure.

"I'm glad we agree," Rachel said to his silence with a twitch of a grin; "Tell Kara and the escorts to just meet me on deck, I can catch the Gray Winds from here and speed if of the essence at the moment."

Then she left before he could try and argue with her about that change in the plans.