“Screw this. Engage!” she yelled, before ripping her back away from Marshal Landou and marching into the forest. Once her sword connected with someone’s neck, she felt much better about the situation. She did not have much time to consider the situation of the other troops, but she pushed forward, killing as many as she could. It was what she knew how to do.
“Arrows!” someone screamed, and there was pain in the sound. It sounded like it might be Commodore Sutherland, and he was hit. “What is this, the fucking Stone Age?”
“If it kills you, it’s effective!” Visola retorted as she evaded a blow from a warrior. The dress of these warriors was covered with Clan of Zalcan insignia, including the ample shark’s teeth at their necks and wrists. Their skill was much higher than the warriors Visola had been pitted against in Zimovia, and she found it challenging to evade the blows from the three men that surrounded her. The rain was sending her hair trickling into her eyes, and she felt a little burst of annoyance as she slammed her elbow into someone’s face and kicked away another fighter with a blow to his solar plexus, quickly impaling the third man with her unicorn trident. She aimed a decapitating heel into the face of the man she had elbowed, and after evading his swinging blade, she used her sword to cut open the neck of the other warrior.
“I like multitasking,” she told their bodies, before she turned and ran towards the last place she had seen Vachlan. She had to fight her way to him through the dark wet forest, and she often took on more warriors than she could handle. The Kevlar was excellent armor, but she still felt every blow she received, and sometimes their blades managed to pierce through to her skin. She stumbled back through the thicket, searching for her husband. A heavy man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and slammed her head into a tree, causing her to be overwhelmed with dizziness and fall to the ground. Visola righted her double vision as she used her rifle, which had fallen from her back, to shoot her attacker at point blank range.
She began crawling through the underbrush, in pursuit of the sound of Vachlan’s war-grunts. She paused, leaning against a tree as dizziness and exhaustion hit her with full force. She was grasping the tree trunk and pulling herself up so she could stand when another flash of lightning illuminated the area around her, and she saw Vachlan’s face. His eyes were focused and intense as he fought with the Clan warriors around him. Vachlan was strong, but there were too many. He needed her help. Visola began moving towards him again, but her head was spinning and she began to lose her sense of orientation. The lightning storm was unusual territory—they usually fought in deep water caves where there was no weather to contend with.
She lay her head down, just for a moment, to try and gather her senses, but her eyes threatened to close and she jerked her head off the ground and forcibly yanked her whole body upright. A rush of blood caused her to sway unsteadily and nearly knocked her off her feet, but she grabbed a weapon off her hip and headed toward Vachlan’s attackers. A flash of lightning came again, so close that it momentarily blinded her. In that flash of lightning, she saw something that made her freeze. Her husband was on his knees and being held by three of his attackers, and a fourth was about to sever his head.
“Vachlan!” she screamed. Her heart felt like it was about to pound a hole through her ribcage and cannonball itself out of her chest.
Chapter 10: Not a Whimper
Marshal Landou slammed his rifle into the head of the person attacking Vachlan, and quickly disarmed the man. When he had the man’s sword, he began using it on the other assailants, and Visola felt a rush of adrenaline wash over her as she threw herself into the mix too, hacking away at the Clan warriors around her husband. As soon as Vachlan was released, he joined the battle, and the three of them positioned their backs toward each other. As the fight continued, concentrated around their little circle of defense, Visola was surprised by how easily Marshal Landou adapted to their fighting style.
Before long, the end was in sight. Only about a dozen Clan warriors remained, occasionally illuminated by the lightning. As they advanced on the general, the destroyer, and the marshal, Visola felt seized by confidence and enthusiasm. She liked these odds. She moved forward, spinning around, using her whole body in the fight, and when she needed a harbor, the boys were behind her with their shoulders nudging hers reassuringly. It was intense, and she could hardly afford to look back and make sure her back was covered. She relied on her longtime faith in Vachlan, and her newfound respect for Landou’s ability, and focused on the fight before her.
Seeing that one of the advancing warriors was decked out in the important Clan of Zalcan regalia, she dispatched of the other two with efficient and well-aimed blows to their trunks. Visola worked on subduing the warrior instead of killing him, and while the loud sounds of battle began to die down around her, she found herself wrestling the warrior to the ground and shoving his face in the mud.
“I caught me a big fish,” Visola said proudly to her men, who were panting after the cessation of their fights.
Landou moved forward and gripped the man by the hair. “Are there more of you out here?” he demanded.
The man glared at Landou fiercely. Vachlan approached, swinging a small axe. “May I cut something off?”
“Be my guest,” Landou offered, with a gracious gesture.
“Appreciate it.” Vachlan said, adjusting the implement in his grip. Visola admired the smooth strength of her husband’s swing, and how cleanly the man’s hand was severed off at the wrist. Surprisingly, the warrior did not make a noise—he only recoiled in disbelief. “Now, I believe our American friend asked you a question, chap. Are there more CoZ warriors out here?”
“No,” the man said weakly, staring at the stump of his wrist. He seemed to be trying to move his fingers, and unconvinced that he no longer had any. “It was just us, Vachlan.”
“You know me?” Vachlan asked.
“Of course. I fought under you for years. Didn’t realize you were part of this squad or I wouldn’t have attacked. You’re a gifted, inspiring leader. I’m not just saying that so you don’t chop off my other hand. I’m pretty sure you’re going to kill me anyway.”
“Thanks, mate,” Vachlan said affably. “Sorry about that. You know how it is.”
The warrior groaned. “I’d heard that you betrayed us, but I didn’t want to believe it.”
“He’s always betraying someone,” Visola told their captive reassuringly. “You’re not special. Why did you attack Shiretoko?”
“We were ordered to take the city so that Adlivun would have no allies left.”
“How wrong you are,” Marshal Landou observed. “Why did your troops remain after the mission was completed?”
“Queen Amabie escaped, but she is wounded and could not have gotten far. My men have been trying to hunt her down so that we could enjoy…” he paused, noticing the stormy look on Visola’s face. “Ah, her funeral. A proper burial.”
“Is that so?” Visola asked in a quiet voice, putting her hand on the back of the warrior’s head and gently running her fingers through his hair. “How kind. Hunting Queen Amabie to give her a proper burial. Do you intend to attack Adlivun? If so, when?”
“I don’t know the details, but there will be an attack soon,” the warrior said, obviously uncomfortable with the glint in Visola’s eyes and the way she was touching him.
“Who led the attack on Shiretoko?” Vachlan asked. “Was it Prince Zalcan Hamnil?”
“Are you kidding me? That fag? No, it was his older brother.”
“So where is Hamnil?” Visola prodded. “Do you know anything about Queen Aazuria’s whereabouts?”
“I heard something. I think she’s dead.”
“Mhm. Well, you’re wrong, baby. She’s not dead.” Visola grasped the man’s head with both hands and rapidly snapped his neck. “But you are.”
“Ouch,” said Landou.
“Too bad, he was kind of friendly. He complimented me. Are you okay, Viso?” Vachlan asked, reaching out to push Viso
la’s hair away from her forehead. “You’re bleeding.”
“I got clocked pretty nicely,” she said with a shameful smile. She turned to Landou and nodded at him sincerely. “Thanks for looking out for us back there. I appreciate you keeping an eye out for my husband.”
“Not a problem, General. I wasn’t aware that Vachlan had been part of the enemy forces?”
“It’s a long story,” Visola said with a shrug.
“Well, I must apologize for the major miscalculation on my part. I should have brought a bigger task force, but I thought it was just a small rescue mission. Everyone else is dead,” Landou informed them. “Should we go back to the plane and return with more troops, or push onward? Do you believe that these were all the soldiers remaining here?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s only us three now,” Vachlan said. “If we separate, we can slink through the forest like shadows and meet up at the coordinates. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. Do you both have active GPS to get you to the rendezvous point?” Landou asked.
“Nope, but I have a sense of direction and I remember the satellite map,” Visola said cheerfully.
Landou nodded. “We’ll complete the mission first. When we’re safely back at the plane, I’ll make a call to have a team retrieve these bodies. The families will want the Americans, and the male mermaids can go to the lab for examinations.”
“Sounds good.” Visola reached out and squeezed her husband’s arm. “Vachlan, when we get home can you please drug the hell out of me? I need to get some rest. I’d forgotten how badly I fight when I’m tired.”
“Sure, Viso. I’ll keep you sedated for a week.” He watched as she smiled and turned away from them, swiftly making her way through the trees.
“I’m so jealous,” Marshal Landou said to Vachlan. “Where did you find her?”
“In a penal colony, smoking a pipe on the beach.”
When Visola saw the waterfall, she did not hesitate to dive into the lake it fed. She lowered herself deeper into the pool and peered through the darkness to examine what was behind the churning torrent of the massive cascade, and swam closer to the rocks. Searching for a passage, she was frustrated to find absolutely nothing in the murky water. She was at the location of the coordinates, and she imagined it would not be easy to find Amabie. She swam deeper, running her hands over the rocks, feeling their sliminess from the algae growing on them. She continued descending, grasping the rocks aggressively to see if any could be moved. She paused when she found a rock which had a different texture. It was not slimy, as though it had recently been moved from elsewhere.
Visola began tugging and scraping at this section of the wall until she had broken several fingernails. She sighed in exasperation and removed her sword and began trying to pry the rocks free. She placed her boot against the wall for leverage, and pushed until her sword broke. She cursed and used the broken part of it to pry from a different angle until finally the rocks began to give way. She scraped at them until there was enough room for her to pass through the dark hole of a cave.
Pulling her amphibious rifle from her back, she took a deep breath of water and held her weapon in a ready position as she used her feet to propel her through the cave entrance. She swam through the tunnel for several minutes, following its upward curve until she came to the surface of a little underground spring. She tried to peer out of the surface before emerging and making herself known. Was this a secret entrance to Shiretoko? How many survivors were there, and was the city still occupied? Holding her rifle, she lifted just the top of her head and her eyes above the surface, expecting the worst.
The cave was much smaller than she predicted. It seemed to be more of a private emergency bunker than a permanent dwelling for many people. There were only two silhouettes visible close to a low bonfire. Visola allowed her whole head to bob above the water, and swam to the shore, lowering her rifle when she recognized the female figures. Queen Amabie was lying on the ground near the fire covered in blankets, and the woman kneeling over her was her daughter.
“Yamako?” Visola asked as she approached.
The woman turned to face her visitor and promptly burst into tears. She leapt from where she was sitting and rushed towards Visola, throwing her arms around the general’s waist. “Oh, Sio, I knew you’d come. You have to help her. Please, she’s dying…”
“Shhh, Yama. It’s not Sio, it’s me…”
The woman jumped backward in surprise. “General. But where is Sionna? Is she nearby? Didn’t you get the message that my mother is wounded?”
Visola cursed as she walked towards the body on the ground. “My sister’s in Adlivun. But we have a plane nearby, and we can take her…”
“No. There’s no time,” Yamako said. “My mother needs an operation now. She can’t walk. I tried to stich up her wounds, but I made it worse. It’s so badly infected…”
Visola knelt at the queen’s side, reaching up to touch the elderly woman’s forehead. It was hot with fever. The woman opened her eyes sluggishly. “Visola?” she rasped.
“Queen Amabie, thank Sedna I’ve found you,” Visola said, and tears came into her eyes too. She bent over to kiss the woman’s cheek before hugging her tightly. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I have been punished, my friend,” Queen Amabie said weakly. “I have been punished for abandoning you.”
“No, you silly old bat,” Visola said with a smile. “I’ve been punished for letting you abandon me. I should have conked you over the head and kept you in my dungeon.”
Amabie smiled. “They said they would leave me without legs to stand on. I believe they are correct. I will need both of my legs to be amputated at once if I am to live.”
Visola’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me, right?” When she saw the gravity in the woman’s expression, she moved down to lift the blanket from Amabie’s legs. The blanket was stiff and caked with blood; beneath it, several large gashes in Amabie’s legs were displaying the gruesome symptoms of gangrene. “Oh, fuck,” Visola said, covering her mouth. She repeated the word several times, letting it be muffled by her hands. Her fingers interlocked over her face as she breathed into her hands to keep from hyperventilating. She turned to Yamako, who was looking on fearfully. She understood why the woman had wanted Sionna so badly. She was useless. “What would Sionna do? Pretend I’m my sister. Pretend I’m my sister. What should I do?” She made a fist and punched the ground beside Amabie in frustration.
“My good friend,” Queen Amabie said, reaching out to touch Visola’s fist. “There is only one thing you can do for me. You can tell me that you forgive me before I die. I beg you for forgiveness.”
“Don’t be a dolt.” Visola lifted the queen’s hand lovingly to her faced and kissed it. “Don’t you dare let go of your pride now. I beg you to forgive me. I beg you to be strong.”
“Visola Ramaris. I have let my people down twice in my lifetime. Twice in the past century. I should have given up after the first time. I was too old and backward to lead, and I have cost them everything. We have been eradicated. There is nothing left of the Ningyo. Now that I have seen your face, I believe the only way for me is to…”
“Don’t even think about it, Amabie.” Visola glared daggers at her friend. “Besides, I tried seppuku, and I have concluded that the samurai were either retarded or they didn't get airlifted to modern hospitals often in the sixteenth century. It doesn’t work and I have the scar to prove it. I’m going to take care of you.”
“There is nothing left to take care of. See how I have failed.”
“No, dammit. I failed you. You came to my rescue when I needed you. When Atargatis was attacking me, you saved my ass. I should have been there for you.”
“How could you come to my rescue when I had turned my back on you, Visola? And to learn of what happened to Aazuria!”
“What?” Visola asked. “What happened to her?”
“The Zalcan warriors told me she is dead,” Queen Amabie said,
clutching Visola’s arm with tearful eyes, “Is this true?”
“I don’t know,” Visola said, shaking her head. “She was taken months ago…”
“Suijin,” mumbled the dying queen. “If we are not certain you should not tell King Trevain. It is better for him to have hope.”
Visola nodded, and she reached down to hug Amabie again. “That’s wise. You’re always thinking of others. Queen Amabie, you and Yama have to come with me now.”
“I can’t. I am cursed, and I have cursed my people. My home is destroyed. I should die here in Shiretoko.”
“Your home is with me now. I will not take no for an answer.” Visola reached down and slipped her arms under the queen’s body and lifted her off the ground. Queen Amabie winced in pain.
“I have made a grave mistake, Visola. Everything is gone. I do not deserve to…”
“You have to come to my home and help me to not make the same mistakes,” Visola said as she walked towards the water. “Surely some of your people have survived—maybe we can rebuild Shiretoko. Yamako’s here, and you have sons and grandchildren are living on the mainland, right? Well, we’ll send for them. You’re not alone.”
Queen Amabie began to sob softly against Visola’s chest. “My pride has been my downfall. I am ancient, my friend. You cannot speak of rebuilding a fallen country at my age. I am defeated. I am utterly and finally defeated.”
“Mother,” Yamako said softly, as though she wished to protest but did not know what to say.
Visola had stopped walking, and she stared down at her friend with determination. “Maybe this had to happen,” Visola said quietly. “Maybe this is for the best.”
“How can you say that?” the elderly woman whispered, horrified.
“Queen Amabie, I have known you my entire life. My father sung your praises daily, and there is no one I hold in higher esteem than you. I worshipped you as a child, and I wanted to be you for there was no greater warrior in my eyes,” Visola said. “You know that. You know that if I received contradictory commands from both you and Aazuria, I would probably follow yours. That is, if I didn’t think you both were acting loony, and that I should do whatever the hell I wanted.”
Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4) Page 71
