Death's Angel

by Colin Lindsay

  She spied Sari unhappily on guard duty at the landing pad, her nose bandaged, and her eyes still dark from an ugly bruise. She was being punished by extra guard shifts for having been taken unaware. She looked tired and in pain. Dhara moved silently through the bush behind her until she was close enough to tap her on the shoulder. Sari spun around, right into the roundhouse punch that Dhara leveled her with, rebreaking her nose and knocking her unconscious. Dhara looked down at her and felt a twinge of pity for the hell she’d catch after the dust settled.

  Dhara walked to the center of the dais, raised her amulet, and pressed the center button that had released the airship before, hoping the magic worked in reverse. There was no way to know if it had or hadn’t, and the slaves waited for her signal. Dhara took the time to truss Sari up as a precaution and waited. She didn’t have to wait long before she spied a ship high in the sky. Thank the Goddess, she thought and pulled the horn from around Sari’s neck, blew a sharp blast on it, and ran for the boat launch.

  The sound of the horn created mayhem across the village. As guards moved toward the landing pad, slaves were suddenly nowhere to be found. Daryn had orchestrated raids on the armory and the stores, and the guards there were quickly overpowered. Soon, the slaves were moving swiftly toward the boat launch, some with weapons and others with supplies of food. Kaia used a stone thrown from a sling to take out the woman guarding the canoes, and slaves were heading out into the river in them when Dhara and Daryn arrived with the remainder of his people. Weapons and food were distributed, and the rest of the canoes were pushed away from the shore.

  “Mother will figure out quickly that something is wrong, and be upon us,” Kaia told her sister.

  “I sure hope so,” Dhara replied. “I want to see the look on her face when she sees us leaving.”

  Kaia shook her head, helped Calix into one of the last two-person canoes, got into it behind him, pushing it out into the river.

  Daryn stayed on the shore, helping to launch the last canoes, while Dhara took up a defensive position hidden in the trees. A guard came running past before long, and Dhara caught her in the neck with a wicked swing of her spear that knocked her clean off her feet. Dhara stood over her with her spear point hovering over her heart. “You have two choices,” Dhara informed her. “You lose yourself in the jungle, or you bleed out here.”

  The girl rubbed her neck and looked at the jungle.

  “Smart choice,” Dhara concluded and allowed her to rise and run off into the dense jungle. Dhara turned and raced to the shore.

  Daryn was standing astride the last two-person canoe waiting for her.

  “Thanks for waiting for me,” Dhara said and jumped in. They paddled hard to join the rest.

  Dhara heard her mother yelling from the shore and turned to wave.

  Her mother saw her paddling away with her brother. “You’ve found your people,” her mother called derisively.

  Dhara looked at her brother and smiled. “I sure hope so,” she said and turned her attention back to paddling.

  The flotilla of canoes drew up onto the shore a hard day’s paddle downriver, and they set up camp.

  Kaia, Dhara, and Daryn sat around a fire, watching people revel in the freedom they’d never had before.

  Dhara turned to Daryn. “It’s good what we’ve done here, but there are enslaved people up and down this river. We can’t stop here.”

  Daryn leaned back and looked at Kaia. “Somehow, your conscience has rubbed off on your sister,” he joked.

  Kaia placed a hand on her sister’s arm and addressed Daryn sternly. “My sister is the most principled person I’ve ever known. It is she who rubs off on me.”

  Dhara blushed and turned to a chastened Daryn. “So, will you help me?”

  “It would be my honor,” he replied.

  Dhara got up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, brother.”

  Kaia looked at the mass of canoes drawn up on the shore and the people milling around. “We don’t make much of an army. We look more like refugees.”

  “We’re both,” Daryn assured her.

  “Still, we need a better way of heading north if we’re to muster a force to counter Soren,” Kaia said. She was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Give me Kala’s amulet, Dhara. I’ll head to the coast to see if I can find a better way north.”

  Dhara handed over the amulet.

  “I’ll go with you,” Calix said to Kaia.

  “If you think you’re well enough,” she replied.

  “I’d only slow Dhara and Daryn down if I joined them, and these people aren’t my people,” he said, gesturing to those around him. “You’re my people,” he said to Kaia. “I want to stay with you.”

  “Then I’d be happy to have your company,” Kaia concluded.

  “Thank you,” Calix replied, relieved.

  In the morning, Dhara and Daryn headed back upriver, and Kaia and Calix headed downriver. Their refugee army followed behind, and Kaia worried for them all.

  31

  Cera

  Cera rode a horse next to Soren’s on their way to the city called Bayre. They bypassed several settlements on their way, including a town that was rumored to be the seat of a church that worshipped death. Soren had no love for religion and thought it ironic that he could so easily grant them what they worshipped. He marked it on a map in order to return and raze it to the ground later. Cera was thankful that, at least for the moment, there was no killing. There was just the slow advance of Soren’s forces, supplied by raiding parties that Soren’s man Lennox sent out. Cera detested Lennox, and she had a hunch that if something were to happen to Soren, she’d be better off ending her own life than being left to Lennox’s mercies.

  The countryside rolled past, and she inhaled its scents. They rode past fragrant forests of wild fruit trees, the blossoms providing a stark contrast to the stream of soldiers passing between them. The days were warm and the nights pleasant. In the evenings, Soren liked to move between campfires and drink and joke with his men. Sometimes he’d request Cera to join him on those rounds. She didn’t like being stared at hungrily by his men, but either respect or fear kept them in check. She knew that she was known as his consort, but she didn’t care. Her heart had turned to stone the moment she’d been ripped from Lily.

  Soren was surprisingly sensitive to her needs and didn’t ask her to join him too frequently, although she would if he asked. If her compliance guaranteed Lily’s safety, she’d willingly follow the man through the gates of hell. He read her moods, however, and did not push her. She had her own separate bed next to his. At nighttime, Soren would move them apart, and in the morning, he’d move them back together. If his men had any inkling that she did not share his bed, it was never spoken of aloud.

  Soren was a pleasant conversationalist and pointed out sights and made observations that she would not have noticed on her own. His piercing blue eyes missed nothing, and he freely shared with her what he saw.

  He would often have meetings with his war council as they rode, minus the recently deceased Trax. Cera was pretty sure that Soren had engineered his death at Kala’s hands, but it was another of the open secrets not spoken of in the camp. When Lennox or Seline would ride up to talk with Soren, they’d look at Cera as though he should dismiss her, but he never did, telling them that there was no one she could share their secrets with, and Cera bitterly had to agree. She paid little attention to their conversations, but still overheard everything.

  She learned that Lennox was the source of most of Soren’s information about the world that they marched through. She wondered what he deigned not to tell his liege, but if he was selective in what he told Soren, he never seemed to lie to him. Cera had hunches about how he extracted his information that made her stomach turn. Surely men like Lennox would be better left behind than brought into the new world Soren claimed to want to create.

  Lennox briefed Soren about what he’d learned of their target, Bayre. It was the largest city known to anyo
ne they’d come across, and given Lennox’s penchant for targeting anyone who looked out of place, he’d ‘extracted’ information from people that had been transplanted by airship from all the distant corners of the world. Bayre was home to ten thousand inhabitants behind its towering walls. They were soft from living comfortably, but the city’s natural defenses would make it a formidable challenge. In addition to its high walls, it was flanked by the sea. No amount of saltwater would sustain it during a prolonged siege, however, and Soren only needed to surround it in a semi-circle to cut it off from the world.

  Soren mostly discussed siege strategy with Seline. Not that Lennox wasn’t eager to participate, but Cera had a suspicion that he wasn’t very bright. Of course, even thinking that made her an enemy of the man, who was an eel. Seline, by comparison, was a breath of fresh air. She was intelligent and quick to recognize problems and solve them. She was not, however, warm and engaging, and Cera could understand why her company did nothing to satiate Soren’s loneliness.

  Seline didn’t feel that the city’s walls could be breached and didn’t suggest trying. She simply advocated starving its inhabitants. Like most of the settlements they’d encountered, its food sources were primarily external to its walls. They could not sustain a long siege. She also had suggestions for ways of delivering diseases inside the city’s walls, but Soren dismissed these tactics as beneath the men that followed him, who favored the honor bestowed by cutting a man down with steel. Cera didn’t see the difference and noted sadly that honorable men seemed to be in the minority among Soren’s host.

  They finally arrived at Bayre and Cera was grateful for the respite from long days in the saddle. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever walk without soreness again. As expected, the city’s inhabitants retreated behind its walls, and Soren’s forces hemmed it in against the sea. Soren selected the location of his tent to have a commanding view of his army in front and a pleasant view of the sea behind. Cera suspected that he had chosen the site partly to please her, and she resisted feeling any gratitude for the man who orchestrated so much death. He deserved nothing.

  During the day, Soren would meet with his council in his tent, or sit out in front of it, contemplating the city, its conquest, and beyond. Cera would sit behind the tent, wrapped in blankets, staring out to sea. If she gazed at it long enough, it anesthetized her broken heart.

  One day, Soren emerged through the back flap of his tent, dragging a chair to join her. He placed it beside her, also facing out to sea. He returned to the tent to fetch himself a blanket and cups of tea for them both. He handed her one, which she took graciously, and he sat down beside her.

  “It’s beautiful, the sea,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  “It is,” she agreed.

  “Would you like to settle beside it when this is all over?” he asked her.

  “I don’t think it matters,” she replied flatly. “When the last of the world has been torn asunder, I think it’ll take the last of our souls with it. I’ve always felt that as long as there was some untouched part of the world, there was a chance at redemption, a place to heal. When it’s ‘over,’ as you say, even that will be gone.” She sat silently, watching the waves locked in an endless battle with the shore.

  “Every corner of the world must be set aflame to fully expunge the malady that afflicts it. You can’t show disease mercy, or it will roar back. But after a fire, flowers are the first thing to grow back.”

  “Is it so wrong that people go about their lives, seeking happiness where they can?”

  “Yes, it is,” he concluded with the force of unshakable conviction. “Complacency allows men like Lennox to fester, and happiness is more and more difficult to obtain in this world. Don’t you feel like there is more just beyond our grasp?”

  Cera thought of Lily. “Yes,” she replied, and silent tears streamed down her face.

  Soren calmed himself and stared out to sea. “I wasn’t always like this,” he admitted to the wind. “I was happy once, or at least as close to it as a person can be. My mother would sing me to sleep, even when I was too old for it, and she had the voice of an angel. My father would stay up with me and point out the constellations on clear nights. He told me that I could be anyone and anything I wanted, although I don’t think he meant for me to become what I am now. I even had a dog. He’d follow me everywhere – even sleep beside me. I was oblivious to the true nature of the world. When I was ripped from my home and everything I loved, I came to see it as it actually is, a place filled with men like Trax and Lennox, and even women like Seline, who can discuss genocide over tea like it is nothing more than an intriguing math problem. I will not let this stand.” He went silent.

  “You’ll never build your perfect world wielding death as a tool. Death begets only death,” she replied.

  “Your naïveté is refreshing.”

  “I am not gods-damn naïve,” Cera spat angrily. “It takes more courage to face injustice with open arms than balled fists.” She got up. “Thank you for the tea. I need a walk,” she told him and strode off. She didn’t ask his permission, even though she’d never left his side before, but he didn’t stop her.

  She walked through the army camp surrounding the city, fists clenched at her side. Soldiers stared at her as she passed. Her long auburn hair streamed out behind her – she was a sight, and clearly in a foul mood, but she was easily recognized as Soren’s consort, and soldiers stepped out of her way.

  A lone horn blast sounded from the city walls, and everyone turned to its source, Cera included.

  32

  Lily

  Lily moved in with Celeste and Twill and took to her new life. She became den-mother to the children that Celeste rounded up off the streets. Lily spent her time in the kitchen or mending broken spirits. Little by little, it helped heal hers as well. Life continued in this manner until rumors spread that Soren’s forces were headed toward Bayre. Suddenly, all manner of wounds were reopened.

  The city convulsed with worry and began hoarding. Food was brought in from outside the walls, crops were harvested prematurely, and markets were converted to livestock pens. Fresh water was carried into the city from outside the walls to top up enormous cisterns within. Lily took a place in bucket brigades several times until her arms ached.

  The streets became dangerous, and the residents of Celeste’s sanctuary stopped going out alone. Crime became more common as people fought over scarce resources and panic escalated into violence. Petr and his girlfriend moved back in with Celeste, and Lily only ever ventured out with Petr or Twill as an escort.

  Everyone viewed Lily as prescient for her rooftop garden and rain barrels. Truth be told, she hadn’t been preparing for Soren – she’d just been trying to take her mind off Cera, and gardening and baking were her twin distractions.

  Celeste organized the fortification of their dwelling.

  “That won’t do anything against Soren’s forces if the city walls are breached,” Lily told her.

  “It’s not for Soren,” Celeste replied. “It’s to protect us against the citizens of the city when they get desperate enough.”

  The children in Celeste’s care fanned out across the city thieving supplies. Celeste chastised them for the risks they took, but the majority had lived most of their lives on the streets, and they’d be damned if they weren’t going to increase their odds of surviving a little longer.

  When Soren’s forces finally arrived and encircled the city, the citizens hunkered down for a long siege. Food became increasingly hard to come by, and Celeste used her connections to keep them supplied. Twill bartered every painting still in his possession for food.

  The city council established a curfew and sent guards to patrol the streets to re-establish order. It made the streets safer, except from the guards who preyed on the weak.

  Airships still trickled in, although they became increasingly rare. When a ship landed with an open passenger compartment, the city’s wealthiest residents would bid for a chance at
sending a loved one temporarily beyond Soren’s reach.

  Lily volunteered to ferry supplies to the men on the wall that ringed the city. It slowed her to stare out over Soren’s forces in the faint hope that someday she’d spot Cera among them. It was an added benefit that she could usually sneak a roll or two back to Celeste’s in the folds of her dress.

  Soren’s soldiers were within bow range of the walls, but the city’s archers conserved their arrows for an assault. It was a surreal détente between the forces. Lily gazed out at the multitude of warriors arrayed against them. Where are you, my love? she repeated to herself as she looked from tent to tent, and fire to fire.

  A flash of color on the periphery of Soren’s army caught her eye, and she tracked it as it progressed through the assembled host. The wind blew up, and a mane of auburn hair trailed out behind the woman Lily was watching. Please, please, please let it be her, Lily prayed and looked about anxiously for a way of signaling the woman she hoped was Cera.

  She spotted a horn mounted on the wall between two archers and raced to it. “Sorry, I need this,” she apologized and snatched it before they could stop her. She ran to the edge of the wall and blew a resounding note.

  Silence fell over the city and the army surrounding it. Every head turned to the source of the blast. Even the guards that raced to reclaim the horn from Lily stopped to look out over the army staring silently up at the wall. A red-haired woman in their midst stopped, turned, and raised a hand to shield her eyes as she joined the army in looking up at the wall. They all beheld the same curious sight – a young blonde woman waving her fool head off.