Sword Masters (51 page)

Hestia watched her go.

"She's amazing isn't she?" Dirk said at Hestia's shoulder.

"She's like no one I've ever met," Hestia said. "She taught me more about fighting in a few minutes than I learned from all my instructors in twenty years."

"There is no one I have talked to that doesn't adore her. Yet she is blunt and uncultured and quite frankly a little scary if you ask me," Dirk said.

"Well, the Amalites don't like her, and neither does the Jethrik king," Hestia said. "At some point I will have to meet with Persius, and I haven't quite figured out how to handle that as far as Tarius is concerned. I mean Tarius is my ally; she's running the war, really. I'm just here for show. How do I force Tarius into a meeting with the man who betrayed and tried to kill her?"

"Could be a sticky situation," Dirk said.

Hestia nodded. "Surprising enough, I don't think Tarius would be the problem. Don't get me wrong, I don't think she'll ever forgive him, but she's obviously willing to overlook her personal feelings to go after the Amalites. Of course that only proves that she hates the Amalites more than she hates Persius. No. Tarius won't be the problem; Persius will be. I mean after all if I were him, I'd be scared to death of Tarius the Black."

* * *

The garrisons hadn't been finished when the Amalites started to attack in force. Thank the gods the villages had been armed and trained and were able to slow down the Amalite horde. The garrisons, even half-finished were better than nothing at all, but they were losing ground daily.

"By the gods!" Persius screamed. "Must this accursed woman haunt me all the days of my life with her curses?" He literally pulled at his hair. Then he glared at Hellibolt, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me. I told you she was right about the Amalites, but you wouldn't listen to me, either," Hellibolt said.

"What can we do now?" Persius walked over to the map and looked down at it. "They are everywhere like locusts, and we are spread ever thinner to cover their attacks."

Hellibolt looked at the map, then he sighed and took a deep breath. Admittedly, it didn't look good. "Tarius used to go into the camps as the Katabull the night before an attack. It gave us an edge."

"You knew! You knew all along that she was the Katabull!" Persius screamed accusingly.

"Excuse me," Hellibolt said raising a hand in an elaborate gesture. "The moment I first laid eyes on her I told you she was neither male or human. You ordered me not to ever say it again. Remember?"

"So I did," Persius sighed. "Perhaps we could call for the Katabull in our country to come forward to help us in our war effort. Perhaps . . ."

Hellibolt was shaking his head violently. "After what you did to Tarius, the Katabull have become more secretive than ever before. As for helping us, why would they?"

"Because they don't want the Amalites to win the war," Persius said. "The same reason that Tarius joined us in the first place."

"Won our war for us and was ordered killed by our king for her efforts. You won't get the Katabull to help you, Persius," Hellibolt said. "I wouldn't help you if I were them. They can always go to the Kartik. It's a wonder to me that any of them have stayed here at all."

"What then? We're running out of forces, and I'm running out of ideas," Persius said.

Hellibolt looked thoughtful. Suddenly he snapped his fingers together. "I've got it! We don't have to have the Katabull, we just have to make the Amalites
think
we do. We can use the same underhanded tactics Tarius did." He started pacing then and mumbling to himself. "Yes, it just might work."

"What might work?" Persius asked.

"We put a glamour on some of our better fighters to make them look like the Katabull. We send them in under cover of night. I will put a stealth spell on them, and they shall travel silently through the camp, slitting the throats of the Amalites in their beds. When they are detected they will run around like mad men killing anything that moves and then retreat," Hellibolt said. "This is what Tarius did that gave us an edge in battle."

"She slit the throats of sleeping men?" Persius asked in disbelief.

"If you mean to kill a man, why does it matter how you kill them? The only ethics that can be applied is whether you choose to kill them slowly and with pain, or quickly. We both know what you choose when given a choice, so who are you to be judgmental?" Hellibolt said.

"Our men will never agree to this," Persius said.

"They will. They know how badly we are losing. They know the cost if we lose this war to the Amalites—death or slavery to the priests of the Amalite—no one wants that. They will do what has to be done," Hellibolt said. "I also suggest you get in touch with the barbarian kings and beg for their support. They are good fighters, and they no doubt realize the stakes if we fail," Hellibolt said.

Persius nodded. "We will put your plan into action, but I'm afraid our best efforts will only mean we will not be defeated as quickly. I have doomed my country and my people to death and tyranny, just as Tarius said I would."

Hellibolt was silent.

"You know what I have said is true," Persius said, correctly reading the wizard's silence. He laughed almost hysterically. "You want to know the thing that haunts me most, Hellibolt?"
"What's that, Persius?"

"I never loved any woman as I loved Tarius. When I thought her a man, I thought my feelings for her sick, perverse, and I locked them away. I thought I was going mad. When I knew she was a woman, I knew I loved her. But because she was queer, I knew she would never love me. It was the worst of everything. She had fooled me into believing she was a man, but as a woman she would never return my feelings. That's the real reason I wanted her dead, Hellibolt. The real reason I wanted her to suffer. I was a blind fool, not once, not twice, but over and over again. Every day is for me a private hell, and the thing that makes it unbearable is that I know I have done it to myself. I know I deserve it."

"She's not dead yet, Persius," Hellibolt said, moving to put a hand on Persius' shoulder. "While you are both still living, there is yet a chance that you might redeem yourself. Not just in her eyes, but in your own as well."

Persius pulled away from him and walked to the window. "There are some crimes for which one dare not ask forgiveness. Such are the crimes I have committed against Tarius the Black."

* * *

The ships attacked the docks at Armond. At approximately the same time their ships hit every other harbor in Amalite. Tarius's army poured out of their ships, some before the gangplanks were dropped. The fighters on horseback boiled up out of the belly of the ship over the gangplanks and into the unsuspecting harbor towns. Meeting little resistance, the Katabull and Kartik armies laid waste to the Amalite seaports.

Hestia and Dirk followed directly behind Tarius, Jena, and Harris, who rode behind a line of walking shield men. Behind Hestia were the rest of the Marching Night and the queen's guards with Arvon in command.

Hestia had tried to prepare herself, but Tarius was right. There was no way to prepare. Their crossbowmen quickly took out the bowmen in the watchtowers, stopping the hail of arrows falling on them from above, but not before three arrows had landed in the small shield Hestia had strapped to her arm. Not before several of their men were wounded.

Tarius called a charge, and their shieldwall opened for them to charge through. They were engaged immediately. The men tried to make a wall around her, to protect her, but the Amalites boiled in on them. She had killed her third man before she realized she had killed her first. All around her the Katabull were changing. They didn't do so before because they didn't want the bowmen to target the Katabull. The Amalites turned and fled in terror before the might of the Kartik/Katabull army that had landed in six ships on their shores. Not one escaped. Terrified civilians ran in every direction, and some—as Tarius had foretold—were mowed down, mistaken for fighters or in the way of a blow meant for one.

Hestia saw Dirk to her right, but couldn't keep up with where everyone was or what they were doing. Tarius was screaming orders that were echoed through the ranks, and it was all she could do to try and do what she thought Tarius was commanding her to do. It was every bit as brutal, every bit as bloody, and every bit as frightening as Tarius had said it would be.

And Hestia felt really alive for the first time in her life.

* * *

Darian was working hard at keeping up with the rest of the ranks. It wasn't easy because he'd taken an arrow in his left arm early in the battle. Eldred stayed back fighting with him, helping him. In front of him he saw Radkin come off her horse at the end of a spear point. She stumbled, grabbed the spear shaft and dragged the Amalite from his horse. She then pulled the spear out and spun it around, killing the man with his own weapon. But she was hurt and afoot, and the Amalites were all around her. Darian forced his horse through them, slinging his sword wildly without really thinking about what he was doing. When he reached Radkin, he leaned down and grabbed her with his wounded arm. With her help he dragged her onto his horse behind him. Then he took off as quickly as possible to get back to help Eldred.

"Thanks," Radkin said in his ear.

"Are you hurt?" Darian asked.

"Didn't pierce my armor. Might have cracked my ribs, but I'll be fine." She slung her blade into a Amalite who was running towards them with his sword raised and hit him so hard she separated his head from his shoulders. "I feel better already."

"Darian! Eldred!" Arvon screamed from somewhere out of sight. "Go right!"

They did, and were soon joined by the queen's guard's shield wall.

"This is where I get off," Radkin said in his ear. She jumped to the ground, sheathed her sword, grabbed a discarded spear, and from the safety of the shield wall she started to pick off the Amalites.

Darian sheathed his sword and quickly reached up and broke off the head of the arrow where it stuck out. Then he pulled the shaft from his arm. He ignored the pain, pulled his sword again and kept fighting.

* * *

It was late that afternoon before the battle was over. It was only then, looking around at the bodies, at the blood that covered her hands and body, that Jena was fully aware of the horror of what they had done. It was a bloodbath. The civilian population that hadn't been killed in the massacre had run into the woods to hide. She wanted a bath, and she wanted it now. She looked till she found Tarius, then cringed. Tarius was still in Katabull form and covered in blood from head to toe. Tarius had wiped the blood off her face with her hand, leaving her face a smear of red. Hestia stood beside her covered in almost as much blood and grinning like a devil.

Jena walked towards the assembled group and realized they were the leaders of the different troops, no doubt talking further strategy.

They had a map spread out on what was left of a wagon, and Tarius was talking. Jena walked up, wrapped her arms around Tarius, and lay her head on Tarius's back—the only part of her body that wasn't covered in blood. Then she just lay there silently. Tarius patted her hand reassuringly, but couldn't stop to comfort her in the middle of a strategy meeting, and Jena knew this.

"First we have to take care of our wounded. We have only ten, two of them serious," Tarius said. "Unfortunately both of our severely wounded are Katabull, so the sooner we can get them to Montero the better.

The other leaders quickly gave their tolls. In all, there were twenty-five casualties and thirty seriously injured.

"We will send the wounded back on one of the ships as planned," Hestia said.

Tarius nodded. "We will put the ships out in the harbor close enough that they can be here in minutes if we need to beat a retreat, but too far out to be easily boarded by Amalites. Fifty fighters will stay here in Armond burning the town and the dead . . ."

"Hold up, Tarius," Hestia said thoughtfully. "Let us not be too hasty in burning the buildings. If we leave a force to make sure the Amalites can't come in here and take over, we may be able to use the buildings in future. However if such an attack should come, and it looks as if our forces are being over run, let us then burn the town to the ground. The smoke of the burning will be a warning to us that all is not right."

"Good plan, Hestia. All right. We can make the civilian population carry their dead outside the town and stack them. That should serve as a warning to any Amalites who might think of riding in here," Tarius said. "We will stay here tonight and move out at first light as we planned. We will meet the other troops here, and together we will march to the Jethrik front."

"Tarius," Hestia cleared her throat a little. "Perhaps we should meet with the Jethrik leaders here at our rendezvous point. It is just inside Jethrik territory. They will know where the Amalites are and where we can do the most good. With their knowledge we will better our chances at success and stop them from killing our men by mistake."

Tarius took a deep breath and was silent. Jena, however, was not.

She walked around from behind Tarius. "You expect Tarius to meet with Persius and his lot to discuss strategy? Have you gone mad, Hestia?"

Tarius put a hand on Jena's shoulder. "She's right. It's the only way. Put us all together and let us discuss how best to kill the Amalites. I will do it. The real problem is that Persius will not meet with me if he knows it is me. Therefore, we must very carefully word our invitation so that he doesn't know it's me he is meeting with."

Jena stomped off in a huff. She went to find their wounded and see if she could help. She was surprised to see her father there among them. "Father," she said kneeling beside him. "Are you all right?"

"He's fine," Jazel answered before Darian could. "Didn't any one of you morons listen to my incantation? I specifically said 'If you do not wish to die, do not look into the sky.' Do I have to spell it out for you people? Do I have to specifically say, 'Don't look at the archers?' The specifics of the spell are that they can't get a good bead on you unless you make eye contact. There's no sense in having me along if you don't listen," she grumbled as she tended to Radkin's wound.