Defiance (Rise of the Iliri Book 3) (36 page)

Once inside the infirmary, Sal gestured to the medics.  "I don't know how much of that you heard over here," she said when they closed around her.

"Most of it, Kaisae," a smaller man said.

"Ok, good.  Now, here's the situation for you -"

An aged man in the back interrupted her.  "You aren't going to tell us how to heal now, are you?"

Rragri growled at him, a low rumble that reverberated in their chest.  Sal reached down and touched the grauori's head in understanding.  "Yes, I am.  Orassae Rragri is loaning us a group of healers.  You will need to remove bolts and arrows, and do the preparations for them.  Anything that is not life threatening can wait, or you can deal with in your own way.  With the grauori here, I do not want to see you chopping off limbs to save a man.  Anyone that is too far gone for the grauori to save?  Treat him with kindness and as much of whatever it is you give them – either species.  Is that understood?"

Most of the medics nodded, but the old man just glared at her.  Sal sighed.  "You didn't get to see what the grauori can do, did you?" she asked.

"Oh, I saw.  Doesn't mean I like it, though.  Damned beasts," he grumbled, glaring at Rragri.

"Fine, then you're dismissed.  Head to the mess tent.  I'm sure you can manage to brew coffee and deliver water."

"You can't do that!" he spat at her.

Sal pinned her ears and snarled, her lips pulling back, the points of her teeth showing.  Slowly, she walked toward the man, his eyes growing wider as he backed away from her.  "I can.  I have.  I will not let your
stupid
human pride jeopardize the entire country's best chance of winning this war because
you
are too stupid to understand that they're as intelligent as any human.  My packmate will be here.  She will be watching, and I will tell her to rip your throat from your body if you do anything that harms or interferes with the health and well-being of my army.  As the Sergeant at Arms of the Anglian military, I have the right to execute anyone jeopardizing the safety of this army as guilty of treason.  Do you understand?"

He swallowed loudly, bobbing his head up and down.

"So go to the mess.  Now!"  The aged man scampered from the tent, glancing back once before he was out of sight.  Sal bit back her growl.  "My apologies, men.  You will have both grauori and humans flooding in here.  I just can't take the chance of prejudice being what loses this battle."

"I understand," the small man said.  "Now, what do we need to know about the grauori?" he asked Rragri.

Rragri looked up at Sal and gestured for her to speak.  "Glish is hard for their tongues," Sal explained.  "Grauori can not be beside humans who are bleeding.  If they're in a battle frenzy, their instincts will cause problems.  I recommend that you either divide the infirmary or use the mess tent.  I'm going to assume that we'll have more human casualties than grauori, simply because of the positioning, and they'll have medics moving among them.  The mental healers will need stimulants.  Keep in mind, your dainty cups are difficult for their hands, so soup bowls will probably work better.  Have the kitchens keep some undercooked soups going.  Your food is too well done for them.  The more energy they have, the more healing they can do."

"Makes sense," the doctor said.  "That's how we work at least.  Ok.  What about the language issue?"

Sal sighed and ran her hands through her hair.  "You're going to have to wing it.  They understand Glish – most of them at least."

"Rai ha' a male tha' cahn speak Griss.  Hre iss," Rragri said, pausing to find a word, "fohnd a oomans."

The doctor smiled.  "Well, if his Glish is as good as yours, we'll be fine, Orassae.  I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.  I'm Doctor Meino."  He knelt and offered his hand to Rragri in greeting, but held her gaze.

The Orassae glanced up at Sal before answering, "Rragri."

"Doctor Meino," Sal said gently, "holding a grauori's gaze is considered a challenge.  It's polite to glance down as a sign of respect.  Due to your position, you may look in her eyes after that."

The small man smiled and looked to the ground quickly.  "My apologies, Orassae Rragri.  With humans, it's considered rude not to look in their eyes."

"Rai wrill make sure tha grauori know tha'," she replied, her tension fading. 

Sal exhaled in relief.  "Now if you'll excuse us, we need to arrange the strategy.  Thank you, Doctors," she said, touching Rragri gently before turning to the mixed group of officers and grauori behind them.  "Ok, soldiers.  Let's figure out the best way to kick some ass."

Chapter 39

The early spring sun was starting to warm the air, and fat black clouds polka dotted the overly blue sky.  It wasn't quite midday, but all of the preparations had been handled and the grauori said the Terrans were close.  Sal swung onto her horse, hoping for a bit more height to see over the heads of so many humans.  Jase moved Raven next to her left knee.  Blaec pushed Scorch close to her right.  The rest of her men sat casually behind them.

Roo, open us up,
she asked.

Slowly and gently, their minds spread.  The Blades merged easily, each of them locking into place like a well-made machine.  Geo and Audgan blended with Sal only a moment slower than the rest.  The Shields seemed to ooze into the meld.  Sal closed her eyes as she reached for each of them.  She embraced Ilija and wove him into their pack, then Ricown.  With the officers as a foundation, she guided the other minds into the whole.  When the last man relaxed into the group, she could almost feel their link humming, the emotions of them blending into a harmony.

Rragri?
Sal asked. 
What's the status of the Terran army?

Just like we expected, Kaisae.  Divided into even groups.  The leader is headed to you from the North.  They seem to have no idea we're even here.

Thank you, Orassae.

"Helms on, men.  Let's put on a show," Sal said softly.  She felt her anticipation rising, yet a deep anger began to grow inside her.  She knew it was from Blaec.

Squeezing Arden forward, the men fell behind her in a V, the King tucked carefully between them.  Hwa trotted faithfully at his side through the muck of the churned meadow.  In the center of the battlefield, Sal halted.  The men alternated between black and nearly white armor.  Dominik's was trimmed in green, marking him as different from the soldiers around him. 

Sal hooked her own helm on her pommel.  She wanted the enemy to see her face.  The Terran leader would overlook the King behind her because of her iliri skin.

They're coming,
Hwa said.  Sal could hear the sound of hooves through his ears.

She nodded and felt seventeen men check their weapons one last time.  When the enemy came into view, they sat silently, calm as statues.  A group of Terrans broke away and headed toward them.  Sal counted twenty-five.  Officers called orders, and the leader gestured for them to halt with a raise of his hand.  It was almost amusing.  Humans always assumed they were better, yet Sal had no need of orders.  With a thought, she asked her men to adjust the line to compensate for the additional Terrans.

When the posturing was finished, the Terran leader unbuckled his helm and glared at her.  "I assume there's no need for me to explain the threat of iliri."

She refused to acknowledge the taunt.  "I am Kaisae Salryc Luxx, leader of the Anglian army, and who exactly are you?"

In his dark eyes, his hatred showing clearly.  "I am Judoc Geirr, Archduke of Terric and the son of Makiel Geirr, the Holy Emperor."

"Ah, his whelp, then.  I see.  Does your daddy really think this will work?"

"You stupid bitch.  Don't you know you're outnumbered?  Surrender the King – I can see him there behind you – and we'll gladly leave."

Sal laughed dramatically.  "You really believe we're that stupid, don't you?  No, whelp, I think we'll keep Anglia.  Obviously, you didn't get my message."

Judoc's eyebrows raised in surprise.  "You mean the confused soldier you sent back raving about the beasts that attacked.  I admit, I didn't know you had that many iliri here, or was it the hounds?" he gestured to Hwa as he spoke.

Hwa glanced up at her, but Sal shook her head.  "I can't say I expected you to believe us.  You couldn't even believe what your own histories told you.  White beasts came down from the north.  They enjoyed the taste of human flesh and fought like nothing humans had encountered before," Sal quoted.  "Impressed with their strength, the men of Star Fall decided to improve them, to tame them, and to use them to colonize the continent.  Does that sound familiar at all?"

"How dare you quote our histories!" Judoc yelled.

"It's my history too.  What you don't understand is that
Anglia
is the north.  You're sitting in the heart of those white beasts.  This is my last warning.  Call your men off – all of them – and return to Terric, or I'll call those white beasts down on you."  Sal raised her voice so the Terrans behind him could hear.  "Any man who surrenders to us will not be harmed.  Any man who refuses to fight for Terric and the so-called Holy Emperor shall be spared."

"Stupid beast," the Archduke grumbled.  "You think that any of these men would trust the word of an iliri?"

"I do," Sal said, "because you don't really have a better option."

A demented smile flickered across Judoc's face as he gestured.  The man just behind him shook his head as if disappointed.  Another rubbed at his clenched jaw.  Sal's eyes flicked across the soldiers and saw nothing but shame and disappointment.  Maybe her offer to convert them was better than she'd initially thought.

Then the scream of a boy cut through the air.  Dag glanced toward the sound, and through his eyes, Sal saw a Terran horseman riding their way.  An Anglian page was held across the saddle, his green tunic flapping against the horse's shoulder.  Her eyes never left the face of the man before her, and she fought to keep her expression calm.  She knew that kid!

"Oh, I think we have something of yours," the Archduke sneered.  "King Dominik Jens, isn't this your page?"

Jarl!
Ilija screamed in their heads as the rider pulled up beside the Archduke. 

The page that had spent so many hours in the palace, assisting the King with his armor and running errands for them, writhed to get free.  Ilija's concern for the teenager pounded at her head.  His fear poured his deepest secret across the link to all of the elite soldiers.  Dominik's page was his oldest child, one he didn't dare claim as his own.  Neither the King nor the boy was aware of it, but every soldier in their link could feel his love for the kid clearly.

Control that,
she begged Blaec, and her lover smothered Ilija's worry from her mind, reaching out to reassure him that the teen would come to no harm. 

"Yes, that's my page," Dominik said from behind her, his voice stoic.

"So, you're resorting to stealing civilians?" Sal snarled.  "Are you aware that's against the conventions of war?"

"Oh no, Iliri," Judoc gloated.  "The conventions only apply to
humans
.  We found that alone, pissing in the woods, so we just thought we'd bring him back.  And now I'm going to cut his throat in front of you, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.  If King Jens wants to be treated like a human, then he needs to stop crawling in bed with the animals."

Audgan?
Sal asked.

Got it,
he assured her.

Hwa?  Can you get the boy?

Yes, Kaisae, but he may get marred.

We have healers.  Shift?

Ready,
Shift assured her.

Sal nodded.  "So, let me get this straight," she called out to the Terrans.  "You think one human is worth more than the combat prowess of an entire species?  Never mind that you've just set the precedent!  If you want to ignore the conventions, then we can, too.  It doesn't make what you're doing right.  It certainly doesn't prove that the Terran Empire is a place anyone would want to live!  That boy is a non-combatant, but go ahead.  I do love the smell of human blood."  She made a dismissive gesture at them.

Judoc glared at the King.  "Do you not believe us?"

Sal didn't give him the chance to answer.  "No, I really don't.  Kill him... if you can.  The King has given me – a purebred iliri Kaisae – full control of all military decisions.  You really think he'd throw away thousands of lives for one?  You honestly think your little show will convince him to send his best soldiers packing, all but granting you victory?  He's not stupid.  Besides, you don't have the balls." 

Sal watched the Terran soldiers shifting awkwardly in their saddles.  From the smell of them, few were happy with what the Archduke proposed.  Evidently, threatening someone close to the King was all the imbecile had left.  That meant he was desperate. 
Blaec, you got Ilija locked down?

Yeah, love.  He's not moving.

"Fine!" Judoc said.  "Kill the boy."

Through the link, Sal could feel Audgan focus on the soldier.  The man holding Jarl tried to raise his sword to the kid's throat, but his hand shook in fear.  She just smiled.  The harder he tried to obey the order, the more Audgan focused on him, until the soldier began to lean away from the teen.  Suddenly, he released his grip and began shoving at the boy as if he was covered in spiders.  Jarl teetered on the saddle and pushed himself away from the horse, landing hard on the ground under its feet, but Hwa was already in motion.  The grauori darted forward.  Just before his jaws could close on Jarl's shoulder, the kid reached for the grauori's neck, twining his fingers in the fur.  Like a white streak, Hwa darted back between the Anglians, dragging the page.

"Thank you, Hwa, thank you!" Jarl whispered, hugging the beast tightly.

Get that boy up behind Dom,
Sal ordered, then sneered, "Nice try, Terran."  When she gestured behind her, Hwa stood up, lifting the boy toward the King. 

Dominik pulled his page behind him, whispering, "Hang on tight."

"Yes, sire," Jarl answered out of habit.

The Terrans stared at Hwa in fascination.  "White beasts," Sal said, referencing the histories.  "Not iliri.  Grauori."  She grinned, showing off her pointed teeth.  "Your war just got a whole lot bigger, I think."

"Humans will destroy you all, bitch," Judoc yelled, gesturing with his hand.

Vanja saw the crossbow, but there wasn't time.  Before Sal could move, the bolt slammed into her shoulder, piercing her armor.  She gasped, the pain flooding her, and her desire flowed to the men around her.

Jase kneed Raven close and steadied her.  He glanced at the men across from him, meeting their eyes. "Yer fucked now," he snarled, leaning toward Sal. 

With one hand on her shoulder, he grasped the bolt with the other and pulled.  It came free.  Sal's head tilted to the sky, and she roared, the maast overtaking her.  Panting against the pain, with her left arm clutched tightly to her body, she pinned her ears at the Archduke.  Across the line, her men reacted.  Their hands moved closer to their weapons.  Their bodies prepared to attack, but none broke.  Risk abandoned his position, pulling off his glove, and shoved Phoenix between Scorch and Arden.

"With your leader wounded, what are you going to do now?" Judoc asked the King snidely.

Risk's bare hand touched Sal's neck, and she grabbed her pommel, knowing what was coming.  The flash of pure agony burned across her shoulder, but she couldn't stop the scream.  Her back arched against the pain.  Her fingers dented the leather of her saddle, but she stayed mounted.  Jase's hand on her shoulder gave her support.  When the burning faded, Sal nodded, and Risk moved back to his place in the line. 

Probing the former wound, she laughed.  "And you think you're gods?" she asked, stretching her shoulder.  "This is your last chance.  You just tried to kill a civilian, and we stopped you.  You tried to wound me under auspices of negotiations, and I've been healed.  Then you say that the conventions of war don't apply to me and my kind?  Now you're going to see what defiance really looks like.  Leave now and take your army, or we will kill you all."

"You stupid cunt!" the Archduke screamed at her.  "I have fifteen hundred men behind me to your twenty!  How can you hope to win?"

An Anglian horn sounded in the distance, and Sal grinned.  "You have almost six thousand men, all of whom just rode into my trap.  I didn't sit here because you amuse me.  We wanted to be sure the rest of your army was truly fucked before we kill you." 
Rragri, it's time.

"Your trap?  Stupid, iliri.  My men are taking your entire base right now.  We'll have Anglia – and her wealth of natural resources – thanking us when all this is over."

Sal gestured to the hills around them.  "No, you won't.  You woke the beasts, you fool, and now they want to get revenge for what you did to us."