Sword Masters (53 page)

"OK. The short version. I went to Wolf Harbor looking for clues about Tarius, and therefore Jena. I ran into the Marching Night at a pub . . ." The short version was still very long. " . . . and so now I'm riding with the Marching Night. And no offense, Persius, but I intend to stay with them, and if I'm lucky enough to live I'll go back to the Kartik."

"I don't understand. Your daughter seems more taken with Tarius than ever, and after Tarius broke into your home, killed Jena's husband and kidnapped her!" Persius said.

Darian laughed nervously. "Well, that isn't exactly what happened. Actually, Jena killed Tragon and ran off with Arvon and Dustan to join Tarius in the Kartik. Seems Jena not only doesn't mind that Tarius is a woman, but actually prefers her that way."

"You lied to me, Darian," Persius said in disbelief.

"What was I supposed to do? Tell you my daughter had killed her husband and fled to be with your enemy?" Darian asked.

Persius sighed. "Tarius wasn't my enemy until I made her one." He found a rock, sat down and rested his head in his hands. "I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could go back in time and wipe it all away, but I can't. I want to apologize to Tarius."

"That's very noble, Persius, but Tarius is a person of action. Words mean very little to her, and I doubt there is any deed you could do that would win her forgiveness. She forgave me, but I neither revealed her to Jena nor shot the arrow into her. Do yourself a favor; go back to your camp and do not stray. There isn't a man or woman among the Marching Night or the Katabull Nation that wouldn't like to bring your head to Tarius on a pike," Darian said.

Persius nodded and stood up.

"I'll walk you back to your camp, just to be on the safe side," Darian suggested.

On the outskirts of the camp, Darian turned to walk back.

"Darian?" Persius called after him.

"Yes?" Darian asked turning to face him.

"Would you at least give her my message? Would you tell her that I know now that I was wrong. That I know it's not enough, but that I truly am sorry. That I wish her only the best," Persius asked.

"I'll tell her." Darian bowed deeply and walked away.

Persius went back to his carriage and lay down. He tossed and he turned, even more restless than he had been before. Hellibolt appeared seemingly out of thin air, sitting on the end of Persius' bed. Persius all but jumped out of his skin.

"Hellibolt! What in the gods' good names are you doing?" Persius screamed.

"Bringing you good news, but if you don't want it . . ." He raised his hands as if to snap his fingers and disappear.

"No, no! Please. I could use some good news," he said quickly.

"I have had a vision. In battle shall come your hour of redemption."

"What do you mean?" Persius asked.

"My words are clear. You must not hesitate. The moment will be fleeting, and if you miss it, then things will continue as they have been, and nothing will change," Hellibolt said.

"How will I know the moment?" Persius asked.

"You'll know it when it comes, and you must not hesiate even for a moment," Hellibolt said and then vanished again.

His words did nothing to help Persius sleep.

For six weeks the Kartik and Katabull army pressed the Amalites from the north while the Jethrik forces pressed them up from the south, pushing them east along the border. Finally they forced them into the valley of the Battle of the Arrow. The Amalites were badly out-classed and out-numbered now.

By the time they reached this point, Hestia was commanding her own forces, taking the left flank, while Arvon and his unit took the right.

The Jethrik line was still intact, but was slowly and steadily being pushed back. Just as Persius was sure they could hold no more, over the hills behind the Amalites came a solid wall of shields. Directly behind it were horsemen, so many that they seemed endless, and everywhere you looked there was a Katabull. Suddenly, the Amalites were being squeezed from front and rear. With the plateau on one side and the river on the other, they were left with no room to retreat. Those who remembered the Battle of the Arrow knew this formation. They'd been up against it before. It meant that Tarius the Black was in command, and she didn't believe in letting anyone retreat and escape from a battle alive. The Amalites were desperate and petrified.

Tarius gave orders to the whole Kartik/Katabull army, and her orders were screamed through the ranks from one unit to another.

Persius watched in glee as the Amalites were mowed down before the might of the Kartik army. He pressed his troops forward hard to make sure there was no chance for the Amalites to break through his ranks and escape. This time, there would be no Amalite survivors. No peace talks. No politics.

* * *

They were winning easily with very few causalities, and then like a whisper in the wind Tarius heard her name being screamed throughout the Amalite ranks. Before she had a chance to figure out what they had in mind, every Amalite warrior seemed to turn towards her and the Marching Night. Then they were running at them like a wave across the field. They knew her tactics, knew that she was blocking their retreat, and they were just desperate enough to try to get through her.

"Harris!" she screamed. He rode up beside her fast. "Take Jena, Hestia and the Marching Night and retreat; I will guard your back."

Harris looked at the wave of men and horses rushing towards them. "I won't leave you, Tarius."

"I would do it for you!" Tarius screamed. "Now go!"

He nodded and reluctantly turned, grabbing hold of the reins of Jena's horse.

"Marching Night! Retreat! Retreat!" Tarius called. She looked at Radkin who had moved closer to her. "I said go."

"You can't hold them yourself." It was Darian who spoke from her left-hand side.

She looked around her, and ten of the Marching Night had stayed to fight with her, knowing it meant they would probably die.

Tarius growled. "Then let's go after them. Charge!"

They charged fearlessly towards the wall of soldiers that came at them, and about a third of the Amalites broke and ran the other way, afraid to face the rabid-acting Katabulls and their legendary leader.

When they had beat their retreat, Jena looked quickly around. When she saw where Tarius was, she started to ride back, but Harris still held her horse's reins. Jena realized then what Tarius had done.

"No!" she screamed and tried to get her reins away from Harris.

"Be still. We have to think this out. We must go where we can do the most good. Arvon! Where is Arvon?" Harris screamed.

"He's with Tarius!" Hestia screamed. Tarius was deeply entrenched, unable to lead the army, and Hestia suddenly realized what that meant. She was in charge. "Rutson! Bring your troop right! Kartina! Bring your troop left!" she screamed and her orders were screamed throughout the ranks.

"Harris! Where do we go?" Hestia asked.

Harris looked quickly at the battle. "We go back the way we came and attack the Amalites at Tarius's back. "They won't expect it, and it just might work. Our exit will be clear if we must retreat again."

"Then let's go!" Jena said, giving Harris a heated look. Harris gave her back her reins, and they rode in.

* * *

"What the hell are they doing?" Persius asked realizing they suddenly had no opponents. He rode up onto a knoll despite the protests of his guards, so that he could get a better look. He saw then what was going on. The Amalites were leading a full-fledged attack on the Marching Night. The Marching Night was blocking their retreat, and the Amalites were desperate. If they could get through the Marching Night, they could escape with their lives.

Persius knew then that the moment was at hand. "Come! We must save the Marching Night!" He took off ahead of the others, running into the battle straight for Tarius and her people. His men did not hesitate to follow their king.

* * *

Eldred went down, a sword blow to the head killing him almost instantly. Tweed was not far behind him, though he fought till his last breath. Tarius knew they had met their end. Arvon on her left side now looked at her.

"We aren't going home," he said slicing into an Amalite and killing him.

"Neither are they," Tarius swore through clenched teeth.

They were being consumed in a wave of Amalites. Darian was torn from his horse by the force of the spear that hit him in the chest; he disappeared under the horses' thundering hooves. Soon only Tarius, Arvon and Radkin were left, and then a spear blow knocked Tarius from her horse.

She went into a Katabull rage, running into the Amalites deciding to take as many of them with her as she could. She had just pulled one from his horse and slit his throat. She looked up in time to see a blade rushing at her head, and she dodged it, throwing the body she held into the path of the blade. A spear came at her from the other side, and she spun her sword quickly, cutting the head from the shaft. But this time the swordsman's blade was too close. She swung back quickly, but knew she wouldn't make the block, and if she rolled to the ground she'd wind up under a horse. This was it. The killing blow that she wasn't going to catch. She saw his blade and hers as if in slow motion, as if for a few moments all time slowed down. Then suddenly the Amalite's blade stopped, wobbled and fell, followed closely by its wielder. When he fell, she looked up. There sat Persius astride his horse with his bloody sword in his hand. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, never happier to see anyone in her life. She nodded her thanks, then she grabbed the dead Amalite's horse as it was closer than her own and jumped into the saddle. From here she could see what had happened. Persius had called his forces to her aid, and the Marching Night had come from the other side. Radkin and Arvon were still alive and still on horseback. They looked at her and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief before moving to either side of her.

* * *

The battle moved away from them, and Jena saw her father lying on the ground. She reined her horse in and dismounted, kneeling by his side.

"Father! Father!" Jena cried out.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. There was an Amalite spear sticking out of his chest and blood running from his mouth. "I guess I won't be going back to the Kartik with you after all," he said.

"Yes, you will," Jena cried. "You have to."

"No," he coughed. "I won't. She was going to die to save you, you know that don't you? I couldn't let my devotion to you be any less."

The light left his eyes. She had seen it before and knew what it meant. "No!" she cried out.

An Amalite had gotten separated from his unit and had played dead. He saw Jena and thought her an easy target, so he got up and ran at her. She jumped to her feet in one fluid motion and drove her sword in just beneath his ribs, pushed up and twisted. Just the way Tarius had taught her to do. She pulled her sword out, ran and jumped on her horse. Then she took off to join the Marching Night.

Seeing that Tweed was dead, Rimmy had become reckless, running away from their unit, and just asking to be killed. Radkin saw him go and raced after him. She dove into the fight beside him, bettering his odds. "What are you trying to do, you fool?" Radkin screamed, the tears streaming down her face. "Leave our children fatherless?"

Rimmy seemed to hear her words. Confusion crossed his features for a minute, taking the place of the Katabull rage.

"Rimmy, they lost Tweed today. You and I have to get home in one piece."

He nodded and followed her back to the safety of the troop of the Marching Night.

#

The Amalites were completely broken. Their last chance for victory had fled when the Kartik/Katabull army had come over the hill, and their last chance of escape was over as soon they had failed to break through the Marching Night.

They panicked and leadership crumbled. There was neither rhyme nor reason to what they were doing, and while they were busy running around like chickens with their heads cut off, the Jethrik and Kartik armies did just that. This time there would be no survivors. Their gods had once again promised a victory, and then failed to make good on that promise. What was more, they knew as they died that this army would not stop here. It would march across Amalite and wipe out their world till everything about them and their lives was totally and completely obliterated.

They had hoped to take over the world and make all praise their gods. But their gods had forsaken them, and the infidels would plunder their temples, and soon no one would be left to worship them.

The gods had no one to blame but themselves.

* * *

When they had counted and buried their dead, the combined army of the Jethriks, Kartiks and Katabulls marched across Amalite, killing every fighting man and priest they found there. They burned their filthy temples and broke their idols. They did not leave the land until the curse of the Amalites had been cleansed from the world.

They stood on the deck waiting for Kartik to come into view, and directly it did. There was a communal sigh when they first caught sight of the mountaintops peaking up out of the sea. Soon they would be home. When they stepped off the ship onto the docks, then it would feel like it was finally over.

The sail home had been a time of quiet reflection for them all. They had been physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. The trip home had given them a chance to think about all that had happened. A time to heal from their losses and dwell upon their success. They were going home, but not everyone who had come with them was making this trip, and that made the voyage bittersweet. They had put the Amalites down and brought a lasting peace to their world, but at a very high price.

Jena was the first to speak. "I will be glad to be home," she said. She took Tarius's hand and looked at her. "Now that it's all over, I can tell you. Everything.
Everything
you said about war was absolutely true, but I'm not sorry I went. I'd do it again, and I know father felt the same way."