There was no one to stop the Murdano from killing the Lady of Nedarra.
No one but a small dairne with a very small sword. And her loyal wobbyk companion.
39
The Final Battle
We leapt off Doona. Some part of my mind registered how ridiculous we must have looked, two little creatures facing enormous armies.
We stood in front of Khara, as if somehow we could protect her. She lay just behind us, drained and shattered.
The Murdano, the most powerful person in all of Nedarra, the man who had doomed so many dairnes, who had driven us to the very edge of extinction, grinned down at me.
“Must I kill you two first?” the Murdano asked.
“Yes.” I managed a bare whisper. My mouth was bone-dry, my stomach twisted into knots.
“Well then . . .” He swung his sword in a sweeping backhand meant to cut me through the middle. I stumbled back, and by sheer luck the blow struck my shield.
Tobble charged, with insane wobbyk fury, at the Murdano, climbing up his chain mail until he’d reached the man’s head. Clawing, biting, screeching, Tobble did his best, but the Murdano caught him on the tip of his sword and tossed him several feet. He landed hard and did not move.
“Tobble!” I screamed. I held out my sword, half hoping the Murdano would impale himself the way Chimera had. He sneered, and with an almost casual flick of his wrist, his sword knocked mine from my hand. It flew a few feet and landed in a puddle of mud.
There was not the slightest chance I could reach it.
“Byx.” Khara’s voice was a gasp of pain. I glanced over—it was all I could do, as I was busy preparing to die—and realized she was holding something toward me.
The Murdano raised his sword high, still grinning, ready to kill me and then Khara. Ready to kill thousands upon thousands.
The hilt!
Khara was holding the hilt of her sword toward me.
I took two quick steps back, keeping my eye on the Murdano, and there it was, practically jumping into my hand.
I had a bad grip on it—backward, more spear than knife—but it wasn’t as heavy as I’d expected. Indeed, it felt not just light, but almost alive.
The Murdano began his downward swing. I threw myself forward to get inside of the deadly descending blade. As I did, I raised my right hand, the hand holding the Light of Nedarra.
The Murdano saw, too late. Too late to stop his swing or arrest his forward momentum. The blade’s point was just inches from his heart as he windmilled like a man at the edge of a cliff.
But he couldn’t stop. Not until two inches of the blade had sliced through his gold chain mail, his fine silk doublet, his undergarments, his flesh. His look of shock confirmed, as did the red blood flowing, that I had cut him.
But it wasn’t yet fatal. He wouldn’t die of the cut I’d inflicted. No. He’d die when I felt, coursing through me, all the pain and rage of finding my family slaughtered because of this evil man. He’d die when I looked into his wide, horrified eyes and cried, “For the dairnes!”
I grabbed the hilt firmly in both hands, and I plunged the Light of Nedarra through his heart.
40
A Time of Marvels
The troops of the Army of Peace, with General Varis in command, arrived the next day.
They were prepared for war.
Instead they found peace. A tentative peace. Fragile, uncertain, vulnerable.
But peace nevertheless.
The two opposing armies had agreed to withdraw, separated by a distance of five miles. Negotiations would be taking place at a simple campsite composed of a dozen tents circling a large bonfire.
A thin veil of snow was falling. Tobble and I were amusing ourselves watching flakes melt as they twirled toward the fire. It was late afternoon, and the first day of diplomacy had already concluded. Most of the negotiators were in their tents, and more would be joining us in the days to come.
“They’re here!” I nudged Tobble, pointing. “I see General Varis and Bodick.”
“Should we go meet them?”
I grinned. “It’d be the polite thing.”
We sauntered toward the intimidating column of cavalry, spearmen, and archers. Of humans and raptidons, wobbyks and ragglers. Our plan was to act perfectly casual, as if nothing much had happened.
It was silly, especially given everything that had happened. But I suppose we were a bit giddy with relief.
We walked slowly, and Tobble leaned on my arm for support. He’d been badly bruised in yesterday’s battle, and his left paw was swollen to twice its normal size.
“Good day to you, General Varis,” I called.
“Good . . . g-good . . good day?” he sputtered. “What do you mean, ‘good day’? What is the news?”
“Well, we were just about to brew some tea,” said Tobble. “Will you join us?”
“It’s tannamint,” I added. “Very refreshing.”
“Will I . . . Did you say tea?” The general’s face was ruddy with frustration. “Where is everyone?”
Bodick threw up her hands. “Quit playacting and tell us what’s going on!”
“All right,” Tobble said, relenting. “There’s much to tell.”
“My apologies,” I said, adopting a more serious tone. “To begin with, the Lady was badly wounded. Renzo is with her, and she’s being cared for by the chief doctors of both armies.”
“And will she recover?” Varis asked.
“To be honest, we feared for her,” I said. “She was injured with both arrow and sword. But just an hour ago, I had to soothe a Dreylander doctor who was fleeing her tent. She threatened to disembowel him if he gave her one more foul-tasting concoction to drink.”
General Varis threw back his head and laughed. “That is heartening indeed,” he said. He leaned forward in his saddle. “But what of the Kazar? And the Murdano?”
“Even though she was wounded, the Lady challenged them to single combat.”
“More like two on one,” Tobble said.
“She killed the Kazar,” I said, still awed by her bravery. “Then she killed the Murdano’s champion.”
“By herself?” The general’s mouth dropped open.
“Well,” I said, “she had a very good sword.”
“And the Murdano himself?” General Varis asked. “Is he our prisoner?”
“I’d be more than happy to take charge of jailer duties,” Bodick offered.
“Alas,” Tobble said, “the Murdano is also no longer with us.”
Bodick’s eyes went wide. “The Lady got him, too?”
“Not exactly,” said Tobble. He turned to me and held out a paw.
General Varis and Bodick exchanged an incredulous look. “Impossible,” said the general.
“No,” Bodick said. “No.”
“Yes,” Tobble said. “The killer of the dairnes met a rather poetic fate.”
I was not nearly as proud of myself as Tobble was. I would have to live with the indelible memory of leaning into the hilt of Khara’s sword.
I would have to remember forever the way its blade had cut through skin and organ and sinew.
I would always have the image of the Murdano turning disbelieving eyes to me and mouthing just two words: “A dairne?”
As I’d watched his eyes grow dull, I’d recited the names of my family members, one by one. Was it revenge? I suppose. But was it also justice? Yes. I hoped so, anyway.
“I would rather have seen him imprisoned for his sins,” I said. “But we . . . I . . . had no choice.”
General Varis and Bodick nodded solemnly. They both knew how I felt. They understood the impossibly heavy burden that came with taking a life. Any life.
General Varis ordered the Army of Peace to withdraw five miles, in keeping with the other two armies. Once that had happened, he and Bodick joined us by the fire. “What now?” Bodick asked, warming her hands near the flames.
“Now,” I said, “we talk. The Lady’s ordered that representati
ves of the six governing species, along with an overlooked seventh species”—I nodded at Tobble—“come together here, to discuss and negotiate.”
“Negotiate,” General Varis repeated, sounding both hopeful and dubious.
“Rorid Headcrusher is coming to speak for the raptidons,” I said. “The terramants believe they must have three of their own to speak for their people. You, General Varis, if you’re willing, can speak for humans, along with the Lady. No less than Queen Pavionne herself will arrive to speak for natite interests. Naleese has agreed to speak for the felivets.”
“Ah,” said Bodick. “So that explains the canal we noticed some terramants digging.”
“We asked them—politely, I assure you—to use their tunneling skills to dig a short channel to the river. It will expedite the arrival of the natites.”
“I assume you, Tobble, will represent that seventh, overlooked species?” asked the general.
“I will,” said Tobble proudly.
“And you, Byx, the dairnes?” Bodick asked.
“Sabito’s confirmed that Maxyn will be coming tomorrow. He and I will speak for the dairnes together. By then, we hope the Lady will be well enough to be part of the discussion.”
“Part of?” Varis echoed. “She’s the one who destroyed both tyrants. She’s the one who brought us peace. Let her speak her wishes, and we’ll all shout yes.”
“That’s not what the Lady wants,” I said. “She plans to obey the will of the assembled council. She’ll serve. But not rule.”
“Serve, but not rule?” Frowning, Bodick turned the phrase over, considering it.
“The Lady has the whole world at her feet,” General Varis protested. “No one will oppose her.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But the Lady is, for all of that, still my friend, Khara. Even with the world at her feet, she’ll step aside.”
“Very strange,” Bodick said.
“Beyond strange,” the general agreed. “Still, I’ve sworn to serve her. And if she wishes to serve, rather than rule . . .” He shrugged. “Very strange. But we live in a time of marvels. A war’s been stopped and two terrible tyrants have been laid low, all by a girl, a dairne, and a wobbyk. Who knows what wonders are yet to come?”
41
The Declaration of the Seven
After eight days of talks, often heated, but more often quite tedious, the representatives issued a proclamation that became known as “The Declaration of the Seven.”
Khara had persuaded the council to make wobbyks a governing species. It was not a difficult decision, given their amazing bravery in the face of daunting odds.
I knew every word of the declaration by heart.
On this day, after much strife and bloodshed, we, the council representing all governing species, do most solemnly vow that from this day until the end of all things, we shall nevermore make war upon one another.
The leaders of all lands will join to protect the lives and freedom of all species, to include (in alphabetical order) Dairnes, Felivets, Humans, Natites, Raptidons, Terramants, and Wobbyks, giving preference to none, but allowing each to find its own path to happiness.
Dreyland, Nedarra, and the Seas beyond shall be governed by rulers chosen by their people, and sworn to serve and protect all species equally.
No subject of any species may ever again be deprived of life or liberty without cause.
Dairnes agree to place members of their own species in every realm, and the rulers of those realms agree to include Dairnes in their councils, concealing nothing, so that lies and truth may be plainly seen by all.
It was a simple document, only a page long, though everyone knew that the details would be hashed out for many more weeks. A great deal of work was left to be done.
No one had ever before considered allowing the common folk to choose their leaders. Until something called an “election” could be held, Dreyland would be ruled temporarily by Naleese and her consort, Gambler. Queen Pavionne would continue to govern her portion of the seas—there was no question that she was loved by her people—and begin the work of convincing other natite rulers to accept the Declaration.
The council also gave temporary rule of Nedarra to Khara. She, however, argued strenuously against the idea. “I’m flattered by the offer,” she told them. “But I’m young. I have no experience.”
They replied that she’d stopped a war, which was far more than most rulers managed to do.
Once she began to soften, ever so slightly, on the idea of leading, the representatives suggested that Khara should call herself “Queen of Nedarra.” She simply laughed. “I’m no queen and I never will be,” she said flatly. “Being called the Lady of Nedarra is more honor than I deserve. And certainly all the honor I can bear.”
When Gambler learned the council had chosen him to rule Dreyland alongside Naleese, he reacted in typical Gambler style. “You want me to be surrounded by advisers and counselors, pestering me for answers to problems I can’t even imagine? To eat food that I did not hunt for myself? To tell people what to do? I will not! Never!”
Naleese had given him a long look and said, in her hoarse feline whisper, “Gambler.” And that had been that. Mighty Gambler—fearsome, dangerous, deadly Gambler of tooth and claw and rippling muscle—changed his tune after one word from Naleese. It reminded me of the secret looks and private murmurs that had passed between my mother and father not so long ago.
The thought of my dear parents brought back cold waves of sadness. I’d never had the time, amid all the madness of the past few months, to properly grieve for my family. I stayed with Khara and the others for days that soon became weeks, but all the while I knew what I must do.
One evening, I found Khara out walking at sunset, dressed in something rather like the poacher’s clothing she’d worn when I’d first met her what seemed a lifetime ago. We dairnes can move very quietly—though nothing close to felivet quiet—when we choose to. Still, I didn’t surprise her. Without bothering to turn, she said, “Good evening, Byx.”
“Good evening, my lady.”
“Oh, please don’t call me that. Not you, Byx. I have to be just plain Khara to someone, or I’ll lose my mind.”
“All the praise and adoration annoys you?” I teased.
She shook her head ruefully. “At first I felt the need to correct people, to remind them that I’m still just a girl, and that I couldn’t have done anything without my loyal friends, but . . .” She waved her hand in a gesture of resignation. “That got to be exhausting after a while, so now I just let it all roll off me. It’s not healthy to have people adore you, Byx. It’s why I’ll never be queen. I can’t bear all the bowed heads and worshipful expressions.”
“Maybe you should speak with Queen Pavionne,” I suggested. “She seems to be much the same sort of person as you.”
With her left hand, Khara picked up a handful of snow. She squeezed it into a ball and tossed it far into the trees. The doctors weren’t sure if she would ever regain total use of her right arm.
“I did talk to Pavionne,” she said. “She’s very wise.”
“I had that same impression.”
“You know what she told me? She said, ‘Khara, quit complaining and correcting people. It’s not really about you. People have been through a very bad time, and they need to believe that someone will be brave enough and strong enough to help them make life better.’”
“As you said, Queen Pavionne is wise.”
Khara looked in my eyes and sighed. “You’ve come to tell me you’re leaving.”
“Maxyn can manage the task of truth telling.”
“Yes. But who will manage the task of being my friend, Byx?”
“I’ll always be your friend, Khara,” I said. “But I have something, long delayed, that I must see to.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“Actually, that’s why I’m here. I want to ask your permission to travel to the last place that was my home.”
“You’ll never n
eed my permission to do anything, Byx. But since you seem determined to give me the queenly powers I don’t want, I will, in queenly style, give you a command.”
“A command?”
She looked at her feet. “There is an, um, an event that I would like you to attend when you return from your trip.”
I broke into a grin. “Would this event also involve Renzo?”
“Yes,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Renzo will also be involved in the, um, event.”
“No power in the world could stop me attending the, um, event,” I said. “When will the, um, event occur?”
“In three months.”
“Then I will be there. I may even bring a gift. Or perhaps two gifts. One for your birthday, and one for the, um, event.”
She laughed. “This is why I need you, Byx. I’ve grown so grand that no one else will mock me.”
“Not even Renzo?”
“Good point.” She smiled. “I can always count on him for that.”
“Always.”
“When do you leave?” Khara asked. Her voice was soft as the breeze.
“Tomorrow, at first light.” It was my turn to sigh. “I dread telling Tobble that I’m going.”
“You don’t mean to take him with you?”
“No, Tobble has had enough adventures. He should be with his people.” I wiped away a tear. “And that is what I intend to tell him.”
Khara put her left arm around my shoulder, and we watched the sun slip from view as darkness spread across the land.
“It’s funny,” she said.
“What?”
“When we met—”
“You mean when you captured me.”
“I mean,” Khara said, “when I saved your life.”
I nodded. “That, too.”
“When we met, you were the last creature on earth I dreamed I’d come to rely on. But you became the first one I turned to when wisdom was required. And the only one, in the end, who could save us.”
My heart swelled at her words, though I knew they weren’t true. “We’re only here because of you, Khara.”
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