Sword Masters (52 page)

"You all right, Radkin?" Jena asked.

"Cracked ribs—that's all. But I'd be dead if it wasn't for your father," she said.

"It wasn't anything really," Darian said, blushing and looking at his feet.

"And with an arrow through his arm no less!" Radkin said.

"Wouldn't have had an arrow in his arm if he had listened to the spell," Jazel harrumphed. "I noticed that our good queen had three arrows sticking in her shield as well, so I guess this stupidity spans the classes."

Darian looked at Jena. "What about you, Jena? Are you all right?"

"It's a little overwhelming, but I'll be all right. Right now I'm more upset with what the Queen and the 'Great Leader' are discussing. They want to meet with Persius, and they want Tarius to be there," Jena said.

"I guess it makes sense that they would have to get together. Still, I can understand your misgivings," Darian said.

"Misgivings!" Jena screamed. "I
hate
him. I'm afraid he'll try to trick us to get at Tarius. I don't trust him."

"Jena, you don't have to trust him. Tarius can out-think and out-fight him in her sleep. If he wants to do her ill, he won't get the chance. There is nothing to worry about."

Jena nodded then asked,"Are you in much pain?"

"No . . . Ow! Damn!" Darian screamed out suddenly.

"Damn it!" Jazel screamed, throwing her hands in the air. "You have blown another of my spells."

* * *

"Word from the front, Sire," the court herald announced.

"Don't just stand there! Send him in." Persius steeled himself for still more bad news.

The herald ran into the throne room out of breath and knelt at the king's feet.

"What is it?" Persius asked impatiently.

"My king, word has come from our spies. The Kartik and Katabull armies have launched an attack against the Amalite seaports. All the ports have been destroyed, and they are moving inland destroying every Amalite stronghold they cross."

"Rise. Do we know who is in command of these armies?" Persius asked.

"They say it is Queen Hestia herself, and the Great Leader of the Katabull People who are in command. That the armies are huge and well armed and supplied," the herald answered.

Persius looked at Hellibolt. "It is good news, Sire. This may be just the help we need."

"Prepare my carriage and my guards. It is time for us to go to the front, Hellibolt."

* * *

They were three days out when they spotted a rider coming up fast. When he got close, they recognized him as a Kartik warrior wearing garish Kartik colors and black armor with silver studs. He jumped from his horse and started forward at a strong pace, leading his horse.

"Halt!" Derek cried out. He and his partner, Heath, were now in the king's guard, and Derek was the captain of this expedition.

"Do not try to stop me. I mean no harm. I am on my way with a message from my sovereign, Queen Hestia. It is to be delivered directly to King Persius," he said in broken Jethrik.

"Hold here for a moment."

The man stopped, and Derek rode back to the king's carriage. He relayed what the man had told him, and to Derek's astonishment, Persius stepped from the carriage and walked directly up to the young man with Hellibolt close behind him.

"I am King Persius, and I am on my way to the front. What message have you for me?" he asked carefully.

"Good Queen Hestia and the Great Leader of the Katabull nation do send this message. 'We have already taken hold of all Amalite seaports and are carving our way through their land. We wish to form an alliance with you that will serve all of our people. We will meet you in four days' time at Star Point. There we will discuss how best to fight the war against the Amalites.'"

"They wish to be our allies, then," Persius said.

"No, they wish you to be theirs," the man said with a smile.

"What is your name?" Persius asked.

"My name is Rimmy, and you must not detain me, for I am needed at the side of my leader," Rimmy said.

"Wait! I must ask you this one question before you depart. Is Tarius the Black amongst you?" Persius asked.

"I am assigned to my leader, and my leader's pack, and know nothing of other units," Rimmy answered. "Now I must go."

Persius watched him go. He led his horse a bit away from them before he jumped on and rode away. Some Kartik courtesy, he supposed.

"What do you want me to do, Sire?" Derek asked.

"Press on to Star Point. I really don't see what other choice we have," he said.

"But what of Tarius the Black?" Derek asked.

"What of her? We can not risk shunning the Queen of the Kartik and the King of the Katabull Nation because we are afraid we might run into Tarius the Black."

* * *

Any Amalite stronghold that fell between the Kartik/Katabull army and their destination was utterly obliterated. Kartik scouts were the best, and no unit came up on an Amalite stronghold unprepared.

All five troops met at Star Point with few, or in the case of the Marching Night
no
further casualties, and all had destroyed their given ports and killed many Amalites along the way as well. Two troops had burned their ports to the ground before getting orders to the contrary, but everything else was going as planned.

When their spotters sighted the Jethrik king's procession, they prepared to greet their visitors.

* * *

Persius got out of his carriage and rode his horse with only minimal armor, a sign of good faith on his part. Kartik soldiers came out to help them with their horses and gear, showing that Kartik hospitality was as good as rumor said it was.

The man they had met on the road before, Rimmy, came to greet them.

"Queen Hestia and the Great Leader will see you now," he said.

Persius wasn't used to being summoned this way, but swallowed his pride and put his entourage together. In a few minutes he and his people followed Rimmy. He walked in front, flanked by Derek on his right and Hellibolt on his left and the others followed with all the pomp and circumstance they could muster on such short notice. As they walked through the camp, the Kartik people moved aside forming a line on either side of them, and Persius realized it must be some sort of custom. It was strange—like walking into a sea of people and then having it part before him. He was sweating and realized he wasn't looking in front of himself, but in every other direction. He was searching the crowd, looking for Tarius the Black.

Finally the crowd parted for the last time. He heard Derek gasp beside him, and his head snapped forward. The Kartik queen and the Katabulls' "Great Leader" sat before him. The queen was a tall, dark Kartik woman. She wore the same gaudy gambeson and black leather armor as her people, but hers was of a finer quality and there was a jewel-encrusted gold crown on her head. Hestia was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, but that was not the reason Derek gasped.

Sitting to Hestia's right on the Katabull throne was Tarius the Black. She was wearing much the same armor as the rest of the army, but hers—like the queen's—was of a finer quality. Her pauldrons and knee cops were shaped like skulls that seemed to glare mockingly up at him. Except for the fact that she was now obviously a woman and the multiple piercings, she really hadn't changed at all. He thought about his own reflection these days. No trauma had been visited upon him. No arrow had invaded his body nor sword cut his flesh, yet in the last six years he had aged twenty. While Tarius had aged not at all.

Jena stood on her right hand and Harris on her left, both also bearing the signs of power and authority afforded them in the form of gold rings and better armor. Tarius glared at him with utter contempt, but it was the looks he got from Jena and Harris that made his blood run cold. Looks of pure hate and utter loathing.

"What is all this?" Persius demanded, waving a hand in Tarius's direction.

Hestia answered him in surprisingly good Jethrikian. "I knew you would not come if you learned that the Great Leader of the Katabull people, my trusted ally and war lord, was none other than the woman you ordered killed," Hestia said. "I also thought that seeing as you have little if any respect for women, especially women in authority, that you would be more likely to come if you believed you were being summoned by at least one man," Hestia answered.

Persius noticed to his disbelief that the queen's own husband stood at her left hand with nowhere to sit, while her champion stood on her right.

Persius' own throne was carried forward, and he sat down heavily.

Tarius was still silent.

"Now is not the time for personal whims or grievances," Hestia said. "We all have one enemy. An enemy who will never rest as long as even one fighting man among them lives. As long as even one of their children follow their gods. Are we all agreed?"

"Yes," Persius said grudgingly. He hated to admit to Tarius's face that she had been right.

Tarius just nodded silently.

"It is my plan to take the land of the Amalites and split it evenly between your country and mine. We will enter into a solemn pact that we shall not allow the teaching or worshipping of the Amalite gods. Those who are caught in any such practice are to be punished by death—no exceptions. Tarius and I are in agreement on these points," she said. "Are they agreeable to you as well, Persius?"

Persius thought about it a minute then nodded. "It seems a good plan."

"Then all that is left is to plan strategy," Hestia said.

Persius nodded. Suddenly, Persius could stand her silence no longer. He glared across the empty space between he and Tarius. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Tarius looked at him and smiled a sadistic smile. "What would you have me say to you? That I was right about the Amalites, and that you were wrong? That all this death, all this blood being shed now is your fault? That I find myself in the uncomfortable position of being allied with the person I hate most in this world? You know all that, so what's the point of rehashing it? Unlike you, I do only what is best for my people. I will put aside my feelings for you to do that, but know this Persius. I will be watching you." She stood up then.

"If you mean to kill me, do it now and release me from your awful curse!" Persius cried out getting to his feet as well.

Tarius smiled still larger. "I have no desire to kill you, Persius. Even if I did, a promise I made to one whom you take for granted stops me from doing so. Why would I kill you when living seems to cause you nothing but pain?"

* * *

They poured over the map. Tarius, Hestia and the rest of the Kartik leaders told what they knew of Amalite positions, and Persius, Derek and his men told what they knew. As they talked over positions and strategies, Tarius seemed to forget that he was her hated enemy, and just talked to him as she did the others. Jena, however, never once quit glaring at him, and neither, for that matter, did Harris.

Jena and Harris both stayed close to Tarius. In fact, Jena made sure that she and Tarius were in body contact at all times. Hard to believe that she had forgiven Tarius so completely. That she seemed to be more in love with her now than she had ever been before.

"We will bottleneck them and drive them into the field of the Battle of the Arrow," Tarius said. "You will deploy all your troops there."

"Why there? So that you can even be right about the very spot in which we fight them?" Persius asked hotly. "Why not the Valley of Grudon or the Plain of Tureen?"

"Where would you rather fight? On a battlefield where you have won, or on one where you have lost?" Tarius asked him, not looking up from the map.

"If you drive a defeated people into a battle on the very place they lost so horribly before, they will have no morale left," Hestia said. "Besides, it's the most logical place to make our final assault. That's why the Amalites chose it as the site from which to launch their campaign the last time you fought them."

Persius sighed and then nodded, admitting that on even this point they were right. Battle plans and strategies were hashed and rehashed until late into the night, but all the big decisions had been settled in a little less than an hour.

Persius couldn't sleep. Not too unusual, he hadn't had one decent night's sleep since he'd shot Tarius with that arrow. He wanted to sleep again. He needed to talk to Tarius. He wanted to try and apologize to her, but he couldn't have done that in front of everyone else and he didn't really know where to start. He felt the words would come when he saw her. What he really wanted was for Tarius to let him off the hook. To say that she forgave him for all that he had done. To say that she was partly, or even mostly to blame.

It wasn't hard to find the Marching Night's encampment, not with their skull banners and brightly colored flags. Getting in was another issue.

The man stepped in front of him, sword drawn and ready.

"I am Persius, King of the Jethrik. I am alone and unarmed. I wish to speak to her royal majesty, Tarius the Black," Persius stated.

The man laughed and held his sword up higher. He said something that sounded like a curse and pointed Persius back the way he had come.

"Now see here . . ."

"Are you insane, Persius?" a sleepy, half-dressed man asked.

Persius looked up at the man in shock. "Darian! Is that you?"

"Yes," Darian answered simply.

"We found your horse in Wolf Harbor. We thought you'd been killed and rolled for coin. How . . ."

"It's a very long story." Darian talked to the guard in Kartik, and he lowered his sword. Then Darian walked up to Persius, took him by the arm and led him a little away from the Marching Night's encampment. "OK . . . Walking through the Marching Night's camp at night alone, explaining that you are, well, who you are, and that you are looking for Tarius? Not your brightest moment. While Tarius is bound by oath not to kill you, none of them are, and they are very loyal . . . insanely loyal to her. Oh, and by the way, they hate you! You are the villain in their favorite story; the boogey-man that frightens their children."

"Darian, I ask again . . . What are you doing here?"