The Gypsy Queen (50 page)

  Emilee wielded her staff, calling for her team to come to her. She was vicious, and her moves were flawless. She jammed her staff into faces, stomachs, and necks, with blinding speed.

  The gypsies that had gotten the message rose up, and began to battle their own captors. Emilee guided herself and her team out of the center of battle, trying to get free.

  Hundreds of warriors clashed at once, as they moved. Emilee heard the shout of a child, but could not tell who. She fought for her life furiously, as effective as any black rider could ever be.
The gypsy slaves fought hard as well, for their freedom.

  In an eternity of moments, the battle was over.

  The slaves began to rejoice, and called out to each othe
r. The black riders killed
many soldiers,
but there were many left-
disarmed or wounded, and
eager to offer surrender. Nico organized them, directing the freed slaves, and counting them at over a hundred.

  They organized the prisoners too, and corralled them. They would march them to the stockade, to determine their fates. Two of Nico’s men were fallen, killed in battle.

  “Otta?” Nico said, as Otta pulled back his hood.

  “Captain,” Otta acknowledged.

  “Otta got here early,” Bastion said. “He killed their Commander!”

  “Sorry Captain,” Otta said to Nico. “I had to come alone.”

  “You are loyal to the King?” Nico asked.

  “Fiercely loyal, just as you,” Otta said. Nico looked at him.

  “You look good in black, Otta,” he said with a smile.

  “I only wish I could have killed that man in the tent myself,” Bastion said.

  “Believe me, Sire,” Otta said, “After everything I have been through, I earned that one.”

  “So you did, my friend.” Bastion said.

  Emilee and Luba worked quickly. Dimmie was hurt, and bleeding. They pressed in to stop the bleeding, but the wound was too large, a huge gash on the outside of his leg. Kizzy and Nadya made ready with their thread and bandages.

  Bastion came up to them to commend them, but saw that they were trying to help their friend. He called quickly for torches, so the girls could see what they were doing. Kizzy leaned over and spoke to Dimmie.

  “This is going to hurt like hell,” Kizzy said. “But I need you to hold still. Can you be brave enough?” Dimmie nodded as he grimaced. Kizzy stitched his leg, there in the dark
field of battle. Scores of
men lay dead around them. Dimmie screamed at the needle weaving his flesh together, as his friends held him down. It went on, as Bastion watched in silence. He was reminded that his men rode to save lives, even entire armies. In his rage and craving for a fight, they had not just eliminated the leader, like they normally would, but had killed far more than any mission before it. He hoped never to see a night like this one again, as he heard the gypsy boy take his own pain in service to the King.

  He thought of Yana- the way she cried, after
Volga
had stabbed her, and Bastion had saved her. He saved his city. Saved his
kingdom
.

  If only he could save himself.

  “Emilee, move Dimmie as soon as possible. Make a travois if he can’t walk. I want you all to get back to the meadows,” Bastion said.

  “Nico, send some of your men to the west meadows, to make sure they are protected. At first light, we are going to destroy the Ursari,” Bastion ordered. “Otta, you are in charge of this battlefield.”

  “Yes
,
Sire,” Otta said. “Where are you going?”

  “I must get into the city, to be sure the regular army is set, and I will bring a battalion with me, to be sure we do this right. I will send some of them here to help,” Bastion said.

  “Remember, first light, we will drive the Ursari out and purge this
kingdom
.” Bastion mounted one of the horses that had belonged to the defeated army.

  “King Bastion, what about
Yana
?” Emilee asked, as she approached.

  “Fear not, brave gypsy,” Bastion said. “I will find her.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 
Yana
got her left hand free, pulling it through the shackle. She struggled with the shackle still on her right hand. She was scared, and shaking badly. She could see almost nothing, having to feel around for a way out. The right hand would not slip out, though she had nearly broken it in trying. She was trying desperately to be quiet. If any of the men outside heard her stirring, she was doomed.

  She felt around, trying to find something that might help her. She was elated to find something that very well could be helpful. Bastion’s knife. It had been in her belt when Draiman threw her in.

  As fast as she could, she began prying at the bolts that held the chain into the wood.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bastion headed for the King’s passage. It was the only way in, but after he got his troops together, he would open the city gates and get into the meadows. He hoped the Ursaris had gone. He had every intention of following through and killing them all, if they had not.

  Draiman was a slave trader, according to the information from his men. Bastion was in the business of putting slavers
out
of business. He was sure that
Yana
would abandon them and go back to her own caravan, once she knew. She would not abide slave traders.

  It would be his last kindness to her, one last act of protection.

  Then he would let her go.

Bastion released the horse he rode, after passing the west meadows. He couldn’t take an untrained horse through the tunnel, and he needed stealth, so that the passage would not be compromised.

  Under cover of a night almost as dark as his garments, Bastion entered the King’s passage. He walked the tunnel slowly and carefully. He was nearly through, getting closer to the entrance inside the city, when he stopped. The scar on his chest, from his youth, was burning hot suddenly. He breathed in.

What was that smell?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 
Yana
finally worked the bolts loose, with Bastion’s blade. She pulled hard on the chain, setting her feet against the wall. It gave, and she fell backwards. She was free! She felt around quickly. She had made too much noise. Someone would be coming.

  Yana tucked Bastion’s knife
back
into her belt. She had woken up with a fuzzy, hurting head. The fear that spiked her senses, realizing that she was in the shackles of a slaver, now brought her great clarity.

 
Yana
leapt from the wagon, as one of the men approached. She swung the chain that was still on her right arm, and w
h
acked the man
hard
in the face. He fell to the ground, squirming in pain. Two more men charged her, and
Yana
charged them right back, whipping the chain into the face of one and slipping between them, ducking under the sword of the other. She skidded to a stop, whirled about and smashed him in the face too.
Yana
heard the sound of keys, when he fell. She grabbed them off his belt, and ran over to the fire. There were only a few keys on the ring, and she unlocked the shackle. She looked at the men who were trying to get to their feet. They were slavers, and she should kill them all. The chain was a pretty damn good weapon, too, she thought, hefting it. No time for that now.

  She dropped the chain, jumped over the man most directly in her way, and headed for the King’s passage. She skidded to a stop again. She ran back, and gathered her bow, and slung her arrows onto her back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Bastion pulled his sword out in silence. Something was amiss. The slight grunt that Draiman made as he swung his sword at Bastion was enough warning. He jumped back, Draiman just missing him. Bastion was fighting in pitch dark, only his ears giving him any information.

  He was slammed into, in the back. A blade whipped across his leg, cutting him. Bastion swung
his blade
, pulling out his dagger in his other hand. He took a shot in the face, and then another from behind. There were two of them! Metal clashed with metal, as Bastion called upon every bit of skill and strength that he had, fighting for his life. He needed to get into open space, so he could see and fight properly. He pointed both blades forward, and charged for the city entrance. He thudded into one of them, and the wall, at the same time. He took the opportunity to shove his dagger into the man, on his way. He limped hurriedly, bursting into the old building that concealed the passage entrance from the citizens. Finally, a little light.

  Sure enough, it was Draiman.

  They paused, swords drawn, looking for an angle to attack.

  “No one to help you now,” Draiman said. He lunged, showing much more skill than their last encounter. They clashed blades, and Bastion would have had the better of it, but for his injured leg.

  “No one to help you either,” Bastion replied, looking to defend himself. Draiman was fighting strong, and Bastion was in trouble, not able to step right. He would have to end it quickly. He could tell there was a lot of blood in his boot. Their swords rang out again, as Draiman attacked, sensing that Bastion was weakening.

  Bastion parried the blows, but couldn’t get a good shot of his own to put him down. He crashed into the doors of the building, and they opened as Bastion fell out into the street. Bastion dueled Draiman ferociously, on the streets of
Jedikai
.

  A night watchman, commonly found on patrol throughout the city at night, saw the fight going on. He went to get help.

  Draiman unleashed a flurry of blows, knocking Bastion finally to the ground. He still held his sword, but could barely raise it in defense. Draiman was ready to finish him, and get the hell out of there.

  “Thought you’d like to know, before you die,” he said in a malevolent growl, “Your little girlfriend gave you up.”

  Bastion raised his arm, gasping for air, trying to defend against the coming blow.

  “She betrayed you, and told me I would find you in that tunnel,” he said. “I think she wants you dead even more than I do!” he snarled. He circled around, to get a clean shot and kill the hated King.

  “Don’t worry,” Draiman said. “I’ll take care of her next.” He swung the sword down, clashing with Bastion. Two night watchmen ran towards them. He swung again, beating him down, and knocking his sword from his hand.

Zip.

Draiman stopped. There was an arrow in his stomach.

Zip.

Another arrow, right next to it. He looked up.
Yana
was standing a few yards away, with a third arrow ready. Draiman charged her.

Zip. 

This one hit him in the ribs. He flailed his sword at her furiously.

Zip.

Another arrow to the chest.
Yana
’s panic turned to cold hatred.

Zip.

Zip.

Zip.

Draiman had seven arrows protruding from his torso. He stumbled back, trying to keep his feet.

 
Yana
reached back for another arrow, but she had shot them all. She dropped the bow, and pulled Bastion’s knife from her belt. She ran right up to Draiman, and shoved the blade in him with all her might.

  Draiman reeled, still standing, and looked down. He looked Bastion right in the eyes, and tried to speak, but instead, just collapsed in the street.

 
Yana
ran up to Bastion, on the ground. Only then did she realize there were four night watchmen with lanterns, behind her, as the world came into focus.

  “Bastion, I...” she stopped. Bastion was looking at her with hostility. More importantly, she could see his aura, glowing red hot. She immediately heard the voice of her friend Luba in her head. She had told
Yana
’s fortune, the night after she saved Bastion in the gulley.

  “Follow one who pales in your shadow,” she had said.