“What is happening?” Soman asked from his cage behind her.
“You must tell your soldiers not to fight,” Numa demanded, turning to face him. “You are their leader, they will listen to you.”
Soman’s expression became grave and he stood up tall inside his cage. “I love you, Numa,” he said. “But if this is truly your vision of Todor, then it is not one I wish to defend. My soldiers will fight if they must.”
“Then they will die.” Numa wrapped her fingers around the Uruz wood and shook it. “They wear no armor, Soman. They are not prepared for battle against the Iturtian army. You must stop this!”
“Sometimes it is necessary to fight.”
“Soman, please,” Numa pleaded one last time, but she could see the resolve in Soman’s eyes. He would not stop the fight.
Numa ran back to the wall and spotted Archigadh on the walkway across the square. He was in mid-stride, about to leap over the wall to join his soldiers. Before he could make the jump, Numa surrounded him with an Uruz cage as well. As Chief of the Zobanites, he had to be protected.
“Zobanites! Fight!” Soman bellowed in a voice so deep and loud that it rang through the valley for several moments.
“Fight on!” Archigadh called from his cage across the way.
“Stop!” Numa cried from the top of the keep, but she doubted her shouts could be heard over the thundering voices of Zobanites.
At that moment, Radine leaned over Numa’s shoulder and whispered, “Right now, Todor has no ruler. This is your chance, Numa. Be the queen of Todor. Stop this destruction before it begins.”
Numa willed herself to the center of the city square. Her hands shook and her heart raced so quickly she found it difficult to breathe. An army of thousands of Zobanites stood before her, their bewildered expressions quickly twisting to anger. Some had longknives or shortknives in belts at their waists, but none were truly equipped for battle.
Numa had seen a battle between Zobanites and Iturtians in a vision she’d had once before. Despite the overwhelming strength and numbers of the Zobanite forces, Golath and Gemynd had defeated them with ease. Now, even without the presence of Golath or Gemynd, she knew the Zobanites would be slaughtered. They were no match for the power of an Iturtian mind.
“Stand down!” she shouted to them in her loudest voice, hoping to hide the fact that she felt like a tiny bird squawking orders at hungry lions. “Do not draw your weapons!”
Numa turned to see the Iturtians who stood behind her. Tatparo and Hildegaard stood at the front of the other warriors. Tatparo met Numa’s gaze, indicating with his eyes that he was ready to follow her lead. Hildegaard, however, glared straight ahead at the Zobanite army.
“Iturtians!” Numa called, facing them. “Do not fight! There will be no battle today!”
“You are mad, Empyrean,” Hildegaard snarled. “Look at them. They are poised to attack us and you wish us not to defend ourselves? We will fight as we have been trained.”
Numa glanced up at the top of the keep, hoping to see Gemynd standing there. She needed him. She needed his help convincing Hildegaard not to fight. She needed his guidance and strength; his support and his confidence. Most of all, she needed his clarity and discernment. He would know exactly what to do.
But he was not there. Numa would have to face this on her own.
She took a deep breath and stood tall. Despite the tension around her, she realized her mind was focused. She knew it was time for her to take charge. She pressed her hands against her thighs to still their shaking, and lifted her chin. “As queen of Todor I order you to stand down!” Her gaze was pinned on Hildegaard.
Tatparo stepped forward next to Numa and turned to face his army. “Iturtians, as Pit Warden, I am your leader when The Director is absent. I command you now to pledge obedience to your new queen,” he said as though he had fully expected Numa to declare herself ruler of Todor.
A terse grin spread across Hildegaard’s face. “I do not recognize you as Pit Warden nor do I recognize Numa as queen. In fact, I don’t even recognize Gemynd as Director,” she sneered. “My Director was murdered at the hands of the Zobanites and I will happily dedicate the rest of my life to destroying them.”
“If you believe that Golath taught vengeance, then you did not understand him at all,” Tatparo replied.
Hildegaard’s eyes grew wide and she tilted her head to the side, her gaze meeting Tatparo’s. “You did not know him,” she hissed. “You have no right to speak of him! You have no right to call yourself Pit Warden, nor even Iturtian. You spent all but the last few weeks of your life here in Tolnick. What do you know of Iturtian ways? What do you know of our history and our plans for the future? You know nothing of how to protect our people!”
“I am your Pit Warden!” Tatparo shouted, puffing his chest out as he leaned menacingly over her.
But Hildegaard did not flinch nor cower. She stood her ground, unintimidated. Then she, too, stepped forward and turned to face the Iturtian crowd. “No one knew Golath better than I,” she said. “I knew his wishes, his hopes and dreams. I know his plan for Todor, down to the tiniest detail. It is time for us to honor the man who led us for over two decades! Gemynd’s loyalties are divided. He will never do what is best for Iturtia. Follow me now, Iturtians! Let us do what Golath wanted. And let us begin by killing our enemies once and for all!”
“No!” Numa shouted.
“Iturtians, disregard Hildegaard!” Tatparo ordered. “She is not your leader.”
Already there was a shifting in the Iturtian army. Numa watched in horror as Iturtian warriors moved. Some lined up with Hildegaard and others with Tatparo. Numa could almost hear the rending as Iturtia tore itself in two.
“Iturtians, please!” Numa shouted. “Gemynd would not want this! Golath would not want this! You must stand together now and follow me!”
Hildegaard glanced once at Numa and shook her head. Then she faced her army. “Iturtians, fight!” she called. “Leave their Chief till the last so he may witness the defeat of his army. Kill the rest. Remove their heads!”
Numa’s heart leapt into her throat. She knew that if she was to truly be queen, now was the time to act, but what did she know of battle? Her only experience with it had been the vision she’d had and, even in that, she had found herself curled up uselessly on the ground. She had never been trained to fight and she knew nothing of leading an army. But she would not give up control of her creation again. If her first act as queen meant fighting a battle, then so be it. Somehow she would figure it out.
Numa spun around and saw several Zobanites point their weapons at one another. She remembered well the battle in her vision. Zobanites killing Zobanites, their minds under the control of Iturtians. They could stab and slice and bludgeon one another, yet heal themselves through the power of Zobanite glinting. But a decapitation could not be healed. It was the only way to kill a Zobanite.
“Numa! Release me!” Soman shouted from above, but Numa had to ignore him. Now that he had strengthened his will, Soman was nearly indestructible. If she let him out, his loyalty would be to the Zobanites and he would not stop to discern which Iturtians were on Numa’s side. He would simply eradicate them all.
The thought gave Numa an idea, albeit a risky one. If the Uruz cages kept Soman and Archigadh from the battle, they could do the same for all the Zobanites soldiers. Numa took a deep breath and created Uruz cages around each of the Zobanite soldiers that she could see. The cages would provide safety only as long as the Iturtians were engaged in psychpersuading the Zobanites. If a single one of them used his mind for psychmovement instead, the cages would be rendered a pile of useless sticks in an instant.
“Hildegaard, call off your army!” Numa shouted over her shoulder. “You cannot win!”
“Iturtians, psychpersuade the Zobanites to stop fighting!” Tatparo called to the warriors aligned with him.
> Numa gasped. Tatparo’s command had been a grave mistake. Hundreds of Zobanite soldiers stopped moving. They, indeed, stopped their fighting, which meant they stopped defending themselves. In a matter of seconds, they lay dead, their heads cut off by the Zobanites under Hildegaard’s control.
“Tatparo, you must stop the Iturtians,” Numa called to him. “I will protect the Zobanites.”
Numa created cage after cage after cage, surrounding each Zobanite soldier with the protection of Uruz wood. But there were thousands of them, and they moved so quickly she could not manage to enclose them fast enough. And so the hacking continued, body parts flying through the air. The entire city square had become a wading pool of blood.
As Numa created the cages, she watched the right flank of the Zobanite army rush forward towards her and the Iturtians. Somehow they had escaped the mind control. Her stomach churned. They would not know the difference between the Iturtians helping them and those who were killing them. Without a second thought, Numa created one enormous Uruz cage over Tatparo’s section of the Iturtian army, leaving those with Hildegaard vulnerable to attack.
The Zobanites surged forward, each one killing four and five Iturtians at a time. In physical combat, Iturtians were no more difficult for a Zobanite to kill than a pile of ants.
Numa took a step back as it seemed the Zobanites were gaining the upper hand. Just as she did, a flash of silver blinded her and a searing heat passed through her throat. She felt her body spasm as she fought to take a breath and suddenly the only thing she was aware of was that she was drowning in blood.
“No!” she heard Tatparo shout as she fell backwards into the ankle-deep pool of blood.
Numa noticed the sounds around her fading and her vision growing dim. She was losing consciousness, right in the middle of the battle. She blinked heavily and marveled at how little reaction she had as the Zobanite soldier pulled his longknife out of her neck. He grinned triumphantly just before another Zobanite charged him and cut off his head.
“Numa!” Tatparo called.
“I cannot die,” she reassured him in psychspeak. “In a moment, I will recover.” Numa knew the words were true, but she would somehow have to find the strength to recreate herself in the midst of pain and weakness she’d never known before.
“Let us out of this cage,” Tatparo pleaded and Numa did as he asked just before all went black.
Numa allowed herself just one sublime moment of nothingness before she forced herself back together. She opened her eyes and through a haze, she saw Tatparo run by. His black tunic was shredded, his young muscles visible underneath. Without slowing, he dipped down and picked up a Zobanite shortknife, plunging it into the chest of one of Hildegaard’s Iturtians. His own kin.
Blood splattered Tatparo’s face and coated his long hair, but he did not stop. He pulled his knife out of the Iturtian’s chest and continued his charge. Unlike the other Iturtians, he utilized psychmovement, his mind picking up and throwing every sharp object he encountered. He ran and leapt and spun and rolled, cutting everything in his path, Iturtian and Zobanite alike. His movements so measured, his body so fluid, Numa was mesmerized by him. Despite the brutality of his actions, it was as though he was engaged in a beautiful dance, surrounded by a whirlwind of blades. He was at home here on the battlefield. He was a perfect warrior, and Numa was grateful he was on her side.
Numa gathered the rest of her Lifeforce together and saw that Hildegaard’s army had not been defeated, though it was smaller by half. Bodies floated in the blood around Numa, and she realized they were mostly Zobanites. She looked over her shoulder and did not see a single soldier standing from the right flank of the Zobanite army. They had all been slaughtered. Now the only survivors were those she had put in a cage. Those few, at least, were safe from harm.
“You have lost,” she called to Hildegaard. “Surrender now and I will show you mercy.”
“I did not realize that Empyreans were fools,” Hildegaard spat, her face covered with blood.
“I cannot give you a second chance to disobey me,” Numa said. “Surrender now or you will be destroyed.”
Hildegaard slowly closed her eyes. She bowed her head slightly and lifted her hands. Numa took a step towards her to accept her surrender. Hildegaard muttered something under her breath.
“Speak up, Hildegaard. I did not hear your words,” Numa said, feeling uneasy.
Hildegaard opened her eyes and smiled at Numa. “I said, ‘Golath trained me well. I can control them all.’”
Numa spun around. The caged Zobanites drew their weapons and began trying to cut off their own heads. Their lack of space made their attempts awkward, and they hacked repeatedly at their necks. Blood poured from their partially severed necks as their heads hung grotesquely to the side. And still, they hacked.
Numa covered her mouth with her hands, trying not to gag, and feeling utterly powerless.
“Numa!” Archigadh bellowed from above. “Give them neck cuffs! Uruz neck cuffs!”
In an instant, Numa wrapped each of the Zobanite soldier’s necks securely with a band of Uruz wood. If their heads were still attached, even a little, they could heal. Numa closed her eyes and exhaled. Hildegaard was right. Numa was a fool. Why hadn’t she made the cuffs at the outset? How many Zobanites lost their lives because of her foolishness?
“No,” Numa growled and faced Hildegaard. “They died because of you! I told you to surrender or you would be destroyed.”
Hildegaard pressed her lips together. “And I told you that I happily give my life to destroy them.”
“So be it.” Numa looked at Tatparo and nodded, giving her consent for him to kill Hildegaard. He took two steps towards Hildegaard, then stopped, his eyes wide.
Numa followed his gaze and, before she could act, all the remaining Zobanite soldiers twisted off their heads with their own hands. The neck cuffs protected them from nothing.
Hildegaard cackled like a wild sorceress. “You have lost,” she sneered, then turned her attention to the wall where Archigadh stood in a cage. “Now the Chief shall join his army.”
All the shame and pain and grief that Numa had ever felt came crashing through her. It turned to molten rock within her and set her aflame. She pushed the feeling into her hands and let them burn with the rage left by years of feeling powerless. She burned away her youth lived at the whim of the Keepers. She burned away the prison of Turiya and the laws of Todor and every other thing that had ever separated her from Gemynd. She burned Radine’s harshness, and her own failings at making her vision come true. She was done with waiting for Todor to fall in line. She would create her vision, and destroy anything that got in her way.
Numa looked at her hands and saw that they were engulfed in blue flames. The heat was as real as her rage. Her hands now held the power to destroy, and she was almost giddy at the chance to use it. Without further deliberation, Numa turned and hurled the flames at Hildegaard.
Hildegaard’s body went rigid then contorted unnaturally as she was consumed by the blue flames. The fire scorched her so completely she was unable even to scream. She fell to the ground in a burning pile of flesh.
“Archigadh!” Numa called, her voice sounding like a stranger’s. “Do you live?”
“Aye,” came Archigadh’s simple reply.
Numa watched Hildegaard burn until there was nothing left. For a moment, she wondered if she should feel ashamed, but her mothers’ lessons on Oneness echoed in her mind. Just as she had told Soman before the battle broke out, Numa knew she was just as much darkness as she was light. Killing Hildegaard was the best thing for Todor, and she did not feel ashamed.
One of the Iturtians who had aligned with Hildegaard stepped forward. Numa recognized him as Ileethios, a man Gemynd had never liked nor respected. Ileethios bent over Hildegaard’s charred remains, his face twisted in a look of horror and disgust. Then he stood and addressed
the Iturtians. “Look what the new queen of Todor has done to Hildegaard, the most honorable of all Iturtians! All of our lives are now in danger!”
“No harm will come to any of you as long as you cease fighting,” Numa said. “You have my word.”
“How can we cease fighting?” Ileethios turned to Numa. “We are now the enemies of all of Todor. The remaining Zobanites in Zoban will want revenge and now, thanks to you, our own people see us as the enemy.”
“I never wished for a split in Iturtia. That was Hildegaard’s doing. I want peace for all of us.”
“That cannot be,” Ileethios said, shaking his head as he began to walk backwards. He turned away from Numa to address the Iturtians once again. “Those of us who fought for Hildegaard will never be safe here. Come, we must flee!”
Ileethios turned on his heel and ran, splashing through the pool of blood that the city square had become. One-by-one the Iturtians who had aligned with Hildegaard followed him, running together like a stampede of frightened foodstock, until they disappeared around the city wall.
Tatparo approached Numa and went down on one knee, the bottom part of his leg disappearing in the blood. “I am honored to follow you, Queen Numa, as are my people.” He gestured at the remaining Iturtians. “I will retrieve Ileethios and the errant Iturtians and bring them back to you.”
Numa looked around the city square. It was filled with death and carnage. “Let them go for now,” she said. “We have much work to do here.”
She watched Tatparo as he stood. “I am eternally grateful for your loyalty and skill. You have not only earned a place in my heart, but my everlasting trust as well.”
Tatparo smiled and gave Numa a slight bow before turning to the gruesome task at hand.
Numa manifested rows of pyres just outside the city wall, then set about instructing the survivors to help her gather the dead. She knew she could use her glinting powers to remove all traces of the battle in an instant, but experience had taught her that people needed ritual to heal. If they had been part of the destruction, they needed to be part of the clearing and rebuilding, too.
Unity: The Todor Trilogy, Book Three Page 2
