Khara rode to the very center and brought Victory to a halt. She heard Doona’s hoofbeats and turned, realizing for the first time that Tobble and I were with her.
I was afraid she might be furious, but she simply nodded at us, as if we’d agreed on some secret pact. I supposed she’d finally accepted that fate would be including a useless dairne and wobbyk in her grand, suicidal gesture.
Khara’s cheeks were hollow, her eyes glazed with pain. She held her right arm close. I saw a bright red spot on her jerkin, where blood from her wound had escaped its bandage. Still, she rose in her stirrups and found a voice I had never heard from her before. In the puzzled silence that greeted her arrival, the sound carried far.
“Hear me, armies of Nedarra and Dreyland. I am Kharassande Donati, the Lady of Nedarra, leader of the Army of Peace, which approaches with eager warriors and fresh horses.”
Heads turned, checking to see if this third army was already in view.
“I come with an offer of peace,” Khara said. “None of you wish to die, but die you will, if the decision is left to your corrupt and foolish leaders. You will die for them! For a mad, renegade felivet. Or for a weak and greedy tyrant who’s made himself the enemy of all living things.”
The armies were listening. The humans, at any rate. I couldn’t read the terramants.
“I know that you terramants serve the Kazar,” Khara continued, “only because he has seized control of your food supplies and threatened you with starvation.”
Now I was certain the terramants were listening. It must have worried the Kazar, for I saw a horseman racing from his palanquin to the front line. From gestures alone, it was clear that the horseman was delivering a taste of the Kazar’s anger and threats.
But the Murdano wasn’t happy, either, at the prospect of losing his chance at a war. Suddenly, from the Nedarran ranks, an arrow flew.
“Look out!” Tobble screamed, and my heart lurched.
Khara kneed Victory, who turned instantly. Grimacing, she drew her sword and batted the arrow away.
“Do not obey these evil leaders!” Khara said. But I could see, as she no doubt could, that the officers were beginning to regain control of their fighters. At any moment, a trumpet could sound, signaling a charge.
“I invoke the ancient rituals of combat!” Khara said. “In times of old, when two armies met, the leaders of each side could avoid slaughter by agreeing to a fight between champions, a single warrior from each side. I challenge the Murdano and the Kazar! I challenge them to single combat. And if they are not cowards—I say again, if they are not cowards—then let them come forth and fight me! Surely these two great leaders cannot be afraid of a mere girl.”
Hearing her words, I felt a mixture of pride and terror. She was so brave, our Khara. And so foolish.
The first response came in a felivet roar so loud that the ground seemed to shudder. The front rank of terramants opened and there, not more than three felivet leaps away, was the Kazar.
He was the gray of rain clouds, with black stripes on his face. And he was huge, half again as big as Gambler. When he whipped his long tail, I saw that it ended in a silver blade almost the length of, well, me. And when he extended his claws, they, too, glistened silver, adding metal to the terror of felivet claws.
“Do you challenge me, girl?” the Kazar roared. “I will eat you while you still live! And when I’m done with you, I’ll do the same to this so-called Murdano!”
The attention of all shifted toward the Nedarran side. I half expected to see the Murdano come swaggering into view. But he had the choice of whether to accept combat himself or name a champion. Coward that he was, he chose the latter.
A hideous creature strode toward us past the Nedarran squares, as archers stepped aside to allow him passage. He was huge, no less than seven feet tall, and though he walked on two legs like a man, he wasn’t human, or at least not entirely so.
His arms were so long that his fingers, each ending in a curved claw, dragged on the ground. His legs were short but powerful, like tree trunks. He wore shining silver armor that failed to conceal the oddly misshapen form beneath, too long in the body, too short in the legs.
But it was something else that sent a shock of fear through all who saw it. Fangs protruded from beneath his lipless muzzle. He had the head, unmistakably, of a cobra.
The sight was so horrifying that at first I didn’t notice, just a few steps behind the creature, the Murdano himself. He looked as I remembered him, young, with ebony hair and a trim beard. He wore a quilted doublet covered by gleaming, golden chain mail.
“Gaze upon my champion!” the Murdano cried. “I present Chimera!”
37
A Mad Kitten and a Cowardly Man
I shot a look at Khara, expecting to see the cold fear I was feeling. Instead her expression was one of pure contempt.
“I call you coward!” Khara yelled. Her voice was weakening, but it was still resolute. “You and your wizards have created this abomination, even as you plot the destruction of every species that refuses to bow to you.”
The Murdano wasn’t impressed. “I showed you mercy once, girl, but there’ll be none today. Chimera will destroy you, and then do the same for the mad kitten over there who calls himself Kazar.”
I looked to the Kazar to see how he’d react to this taunt, but he was distracted by a felivet who seemed to be whispering in his ear.
I could barely control my shock.
I knew the felivet whispering so confidentially to the Kazar.
Gambler? Had Gambler betrayed us?
Naleese was there, too. Around their necks, both wore gold chains, featuring filigree badges with the letter K.
K for Kazar. The same insignia his personal armed guards wore on their uniforms.
“Byx,” Tobble whispered.
“I see.”
“He wouldn’t,” Tobble murmured. “He couldn’t.”
I refused to believe it was possible.
Khara raised her voice again. “Warriors of Dreyland, will you die for a leader who’s an outcast among his own people, a despised valtti? A felivet gone mad? A felivet who wouldn’t hesitate to make a meal out of any of you?
“And you, warriors of Nedarra. What has this cowardly man, this Murdano, ever done for you, for your families, for your villages? He takes your wealth to fight his wars and lays waste to the land, killing all who will not accept servitude. He’s an enemy to every nonhuman species, and an enemy to humans as well.”
“She’s right, Nedarrans,” roared the Kazar. “You see my army! Will you be food for my terramants?”
“You fool,” the Murdano replied. “You don’t realize that as we speak my navy approaches your shores. I will burn your palaces and slaughter your people!”
“Actually . . .”
The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I cast a mortified look at Khara, but she nodded very slightly, urging me to continue.
“Actually,” I repeated, loudly this time, “the natite queen Pavionne has promised that no Nedarran navy will reach Dreyland.”
“You lie!” the Murdano screamed.
“I was taken by underwater craft to speak with Queen Pavionne on behalf of my lady. The queen won’t tolerate the slow rain of drowned bodies falling on her city.”
The Murdano swallowed hard and glanced at Chimera for reassurance. Chimera’s forked tongue flicked out and back, out and back.
“Then victory is assured!” the Kazar exulted. “I must thank you, girl, and your talking dog as well. Without his navy, this pitiful creature, this weak and cowardly Murdano, will soon be chained to my castle walls, dying a very slow, very painful death.”
Behind the Kazar, I noticed that Gambler and Naleese had been joined by a younger male felivet with spotted fur.
“Before you two begin your war,” said Khara, “you will first have to go through me.”
“You?” the Kazar demanded. “I’ll eat you as a midmorning snack. What are you, fool of a
human girl, that you would challenge me?”
“I rule this land. It’s me she challenges,” the Murdano shouted furiously. “But I ask the same question. Who are you, you nobody, you nothing, you ridiculous child who threatens me with an imaginary army?”
Both armies howled, taunting Khara. She sat silent, head bowed, until they’d had their fun. Then she nodded, as if in agreement.
“Who am I? I am Kharassande of the House Donati. And one thing more. I am she who wields”—she paused, drew her sword, and held it high in the air—“the Light of Nedarra!”
At that, the blade revealed itself. It blazed with light so dazzling that many turned their eyes away.
“And it’s with this sword, and in the name of the free people of all species and all lands, that I will fight you, valtti, and the coward’s abomination too, and bring an end to your war and to your reigns!”
That was enough for the Kazar. He coiled his muscles and leapt.
He didn’t just leap. He flew.
It wasn’t a felivet leap, amazing as those are. It was more than muscle and grace: it was theurgy. The force that holds all things to the earth simply seemed to stop working, as the Kazar flew thirty feet and came arcing down toward Khara.
He was as big as Victory. I saw his underbelly soar above me. I saw his claws extended, and his raging yellow eyes.
How could Khara sit astride her horse so calmly?
How could Victory resist rearing and running away?
The Lady of Nedarra watched the great cat, calculating the right instant to urge Victory forward. It was just a few feet, but enough that the Kazar flew harmlessly overhead. He landed with the smooth ease of his species and spun around.
His back was to Chimera, and the reptilian creature saw his chance. He bounded forward, raising a short spear high overhead, aiming to plant it in the Kazar’s back.
“Dieeeee!” Chimera hissed.
The Kazar, caught off balance, twisted aside, but not far enough. Chimera’s sharp blade sliced a red line down the Kazar’s flank.
The felivet valtti forgot all about Khara. Good, I thought, let the two murderers kill each other. But that wasn’t Khara’s plan. She urged Victory forward into the space between Chimera and the cat.
“Hold!” she cried.
Chimera and the Kazar were both so startled that they obeyed. They weren’t alone in their surprise. A ripple of astonishment rolled through both armies.
“Before you fight each other,” Khara said, “fight me.”
“No, Khara,” I whispered. “No.”
The murmur of astonishment became one of pity. I heard variations on the phrase “she’s gone mad,” whispered on both sides.
“And to give you some chance, however small,” Khara added, “I’ll take you both on at once.”
38
A Small Girl on a Big Horse
The crowd fell silent.
A small girl on a big horse, accompanied by only her “dog” and a wobbyk, had just insulted two of the most dangerous creatures ever to walk this world.
“Fight me first. Let’s see which of you two great beasts has the courage and skill to take me on,” Khara said. “Then, if either of you survives . . .” She shrugged, and both armies laughed nervously. “Do you accept my challenge? Remember that my dairne companion will know if you lie.”
“I will happily kill you first,” the Kazar said, with exaggerated courtesy.
“Not if I do it!” Chimera shouted, lunging at Khara. He’d almost certainly have thrust his spear into her heart, if the Kazar hadn’t extended a lightning-quick paw to trip the monster.
Chimera fell facedown in the mud.
The Kazar rushed at Khara. I gasped.
Khara spoke a word to Victory, who dropped his head to the ground. She slid down his neck, landing with the Light of Nedarra held two-handed, point forward.
The Kazar saw the sword tip, and with amazing agility and speed, he changed course in midair. But Khara wasn’t about to be satisfied with merely causing the big cat to stumble. She anticipated his move and swung her sword so it was horizontal, blade-on toward the Kazar. He hit Khara’s weapon with his left shoulder.
The fabled Light of Nedarra wasn’t merely a symbol. It was as sharp as metallurgy and theurgy would allow, and it cut deeply into the Kazar’s shoulder. He landed like a sack of flour, with none of a cat’s grace.
But there was no time for Khara to press her advantage. Chimera was on his feet, rushing forward as if he meant to trample her. Victory stepped in front of him and took the force of the blow. Chimera was so big, and moving with such power, that Victory fell onto his side, whinnying in shock, just as the Light of Nedarra came down fast and hard, biting into the monster’s arm.
The crowd gasped as Chimera’s right arm fell to the ground. Blood sprayed like rain, and he bellowed in anguish. “I will eat your eyes while you still live!” he cried.
The Kazar was wounded. So was Chimera. But Khara was, too, though she concealed it miraculously well, drawing power from her sword and her own indomitable will. Still, I knew that much of the blood saturating her jerkin was her own. And I saw the way she clenched her jaw in pain with every move.
Chimera didn’t take the loss of his arm well. He hissed and roared. He picked it up off the ground and tried to reattach it. “Your Chimera’s as stupid as you are, Murdano,” the Kazar taunted. But it was clear he was favoring his left side.
I sensed a change in mood of the two armies. No one had expected Khara to be able to seriously wound both her opponents. A shiver of hope shot through me, but I knew it was insane.
Tobble nudged me. I followed his gaze. Gambler was whispering instructions to the young, spotted felivet, who quickly melted back into the Kazar’s army.
Behind the enraged, foot-stomping Chimera, the Kazar was up and rushing at Khara, but not gracefully. The cut on his shoulder made him awkward—awkward but still terrifyingly dangerous.
The Kazar charged and Khara dodged. He’d lost none of his killer instincts, but as he tried to take her down, he was forced to pivot on his wounded side. He skidded onto his back, momentarily helpless.
That moment was all Khara needed. The Light of Nedarra blazed bright as she raised it, two-handed, and brought it down with all her failing power.
The sword bit deep. A red seam opened in the Kazar’s chest and he rolled to his side, instantly dead.
The Kazar’s personal guards surged forward, drawing their swords as they did. But before they could kill the girl who had killed their lord and master, they found their way blocked by two felivets, hackles raised, razor-sharp teeth bared.
“It’s single combat,” Naleese said calmly. “None of you were invited.”
The leader of the guards swung his sword at Naleese. Gambler readied to pounce, but Naleese had already launched herself at the guard, digging her foreclaws into his sides and sinking her teeth into his throat.
The Kazar’s guards weren’t easily frightened, though. With Naleese occupied, they liked their chances against a single big cat.
They did not like their chances nearly as much when the spotted felivet leapt to join Gambler, accompanied by three more of his kind.
The guards were well trained, motivated, and experienced. But it takes a great deal of courage for a human to challenge a felivet. It takes stupidity or sheer madness to fight six felivets, and the guards were neither stupid nor mad. They receded grudgingly, dragging along what was left of the soldier who’d fought Naleese.
Gambler and his felivet crew chased the guards into the army behind them, following them as they stumbled and crawled beneath the terramants.
“The Kazar’s done for! Finish the girl!” the Murdano shouted exultantly.
“Yes. Finish me,” Khara said, facing the one-armed reptile.
Chimera took a step forward, as if he planned to charge, but it was a feint. Instead, he hurled his short spear. It flew with grim accuracy and hit Khara almost exactly where she’d already been wounded.
“Ah!” she cried, falling to her knees.
Chimera was on her in a flash, battering her with his remaining hand. Khara was so small beneath Chimera’s great bulk, her strength sapped. I knew, with awful certainty, that she was about to die.
On her knees in the mud, one arm useless, a spear protruding from her shoulder and weighing her down, with her life’s blood turning the ground crimson, Khara swung the Light of Nedarra one last time. I heard the sound of metal hitting bone.
She tried to stand, but it was too much for her. Khara looked at me and I saw her eyes, stricken.
“I’m . . . sorry,” she said. She fell onto her back, legs sprawled. Her eyes closed.
“No! Nooo!” Tobble cried, as Chimera loomed above her, and my heart withered inside of me.
“Don’t die yet, girl. Don’t die until I’ve ripped out your heart!” the monster screamed.
At the very edge of unconsciousness, if not death itself, Khara moved her sword just as Chimera prepared to tear her apart. All she could manage to do was raise it vertically and rest the hilt on the ground.
Chimera waved to the crowd, victorious and preening. Nodding to the Murdano, he began to kneel down next to Khara’s limp body, his clawed hand prepared to do its worst. But he was distracted, and Khara was not.
It took him a moment to realized that he’d impaled himself on her sword.
His only word, his last word, was a surprised “You?” And then he toppled to the ground.
Khara lay helpless, her sword stuck deep into Chimera’s writhing body.
The Murdano, clearly unsettled, finally seemed to dredge up a small nugget of courage. He pushed through the guards around him, drew his jewel-encrusted sword, and advanced on Khara.
I heard Renzo cry “Khara!” and spur his horse, but the crowd had closed in, and his route was blocked.
I looked for Gambler. He was lost somewhere amid the Dreylander army.
Neither Renzo nor Gambler would be quick enough.
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