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The Jalakh Bow

Page 8

by Jamie Edmundson


  One of Pentas’s pet magi, the one with the red hair, rode up to her.

  ‘We must flee,’ he said urgently.

  But Shira knew deep in her bones that she wasn’t fleeing from this.

  ‘You go,’ she told him. ‘And rescue my uncle if you can.’

  She raised a hand and the Haskan cavalry rallied to her. She took them south, in the direction of the enemy, and the Haskan reserves joined them. They peered ahead, listening to the noise of the Drobax getting closer. She remembered the fears of the Haskans when she had called for this rebellion. They had warned her of the Ishari magi; of the Drobax. And she had not listened, and Pentas had sweet talked them into doing his bidding.

  Shira never hid from the truth. She knew this was her doing. But she would ride against the enemy and show them what free Haskans could do. And maybe the rest of her soldiers could make their escape, return to their homes, and live to fight another day, when the odds weren’t so stacked against her country.

  The fog was slowly dissipating. The work of Siavash’s magi was done, and now his Drobax could be seen, emerging through the tendrils of smoke like the monsters they were. And not just Drobax, but other creatures too. Shira could see a unit of Isharite infantry, men who had chosen Siavash over Arioc. And small groups of spindly legged creatures had been positioned in between the Drobax, creatures Shira did not recognise at first until she realised she had met one of them before. Dorjan, King of the Shadow Caladri. He had led his people here too. Well done, she silently acknowledged. You chose well. You chose the winner.

  Shira raised her arm one last time. Her cavalry gave a shout. Those who still held lances held them to the sky. Most, like her, now had to make do with swords. She pointed hers at the enemy.

  ‘For Haskany!’

  They rode hard, gaining speed, the lancers moving to the front, Shira and the rest positioned behind.

  The Drobax came, relentless and unthinking. The Shadow Caladri raised bows. No, Shira thought, but it was too late now.

  A hail of missiles rose high into the air, before dropping from the sky towards them, as if they were sentient creatures that could target their victims. They rained down onto the Haskans. Shira had insisted that her cavalry were equipped with the strongest metal armour, many of them covered head to toe in plate, their horses protected with scales. The casualties weren’t therefore as bad as they might have been, but they were bad enough. Horses went down in front of her, to the sides. The riders following behind crashed into them, causing more devastation. The Haskan line was now uneven. But it hardly mattered.

  Twenty yards out. Ten. And now they were into the enemy and Shira could swing her sword, Shadow could kick, and the Drobax fell under her fury. Her arm tired from swinging her sword and still she swung it, in a fierce desperation to kill as many of the creatures who had invaded her land as she could.

  She mistook it at first for another Drobax. She swung down to her right dismissively, but it blocked her stroke with a shield, then casually stepped inside and shoved a short sword into Shadow’s throat, finding a gap in his armour. The sword came out with a gush of blood and Shira barely had time to get her feet out from the stirrups before her mount collapsed.

  She landed on the ground heavily, her armour making it difficult to move well, but she had kept her grip on her sword. A blow landed on her back, nearly knocking her over, but it felt like it skidded off her armour rather than penetrating through.

  She struggled to her feet and turned to find a Drobax coming in for a second attempt. She backed off just in time to avoid the thrust, then lunged forward and thrust her own sword into the creature with both hands, skewering through flesh and bone, before tugging the blade out again.

  It collapsed, dead.

  Shira walked around Shadow, assessing her situation. Fighting raged all about, and she could see more and more Haskans being pulled from horses as her force became overwhelmed. She reached his head, where the soil was drenched in his blood, and there it was, waiting for her.

  It was fighting bare-chested, but appeared to have a naturally armoured torso. Then she knew it as a Krykker, but what it was doing here, in this fight, she had no idea.

  A couple of Drobax approached her, but the Krykker shouted at them, waving his sword, and they retreated to find some other victim.

  The Krykker discarded his shield and took a hand-axe, readying himself to fight with a weapon in each hand. He gave her a smile before walking towards her.

  She let him approach, before launching a two-handed strike. But, not weighed down by as much armour as she was, he seemed to move so much faster than she did. He blocked her sword with his own, before going down on one knee and bringing in his axe in a long horizontal slash. The axe blade connected with her knee and her leg was taken from under her, causing her to collapse to the ground.

  Excruciating pain erupted from where the blow had landed. She tried to stand back up but she screamed out loud in agony when she tried to put her weight on the injured leg, and had to give up. Instead she knelt, putting her good foot on the ground in front of her.

  The Krykker approached, in no rush. She fished her sword in front of her and quick sharp he flicked his sword at her wrist, trying to disarm her. She pulled back just in time, then swung for his legs, trying to repay him in kind, but he managed to skip away just in time.

  She knew his game now. He knew who she was, and he would get a nice reward for capturing her alive. She held her sword out in front of her in one hand, before grabbing a dagger from her belt in the other. She smiled at him now, and he smiled back, pleasantly enough.

  She flung her sword at him.

  His natural reaction was to move out of the way.

  Shira went down on both knees now. She grabbed her dagger in both hands and put the sharp point of the blade to her throat.

  ‘No!’ he shouted.

  Shira held the dagger in place, elbows spread out wide, and let herself fall to the ground.

  Broken Vows

  VI

  THEY RETRACED THEIR JOURNEY back to Heractus.

  Once they were through the Empire, Szabolcs and the other Caladri said their farewells and returned to their home. Belwynn and the others continued on, through the disputed lands of Grienna and Trevenza, then west, skirting the southern border of Persala.

  Slowly, their spirits rose. Most of them had things to look forward to in Kalinth. Belwynn could resume her work with Elana. Gyrmund would see Moneva again. Theron, she could tell, was keen to get back to work. His mind had moved on from the disappointments of diplomacy in Coldeberg. He started talking to her about the Kalinthian army, mainly on the subject of the need to develop an infantry force to complement the Knights. She understood the basic problem he had. It had been the Krykker infantry and the Kalinthian cavalry that together had defeated the Isharites. Neither could have done it alone.

  Soren, while not exactly a force of optimism, had also come to terms with the meeting in Coldeberg. He still smouldered with anger at what he saw as a lack of action from others. But he had learned from Szabolcs the locations of the remaining weapons. That had helped him to focus on what he needed to do.

  ‘Yes,’ he said to her out loud, as their horses clipped along, the deep forest of the Grand Caladri on their left, the ancient kingdom of Persala to their right. ‘The shield is on our doorstep, somewhere there,’ he continued, indicating Persala. ‘But who else is going to travel to the Jalakh Steppe but us?’

  That was a question that did not require an answer. And though Belwynn took issue with the word ‘us’, she kept that to herself for now.

  When they entered Korkis they found a town in some turmoil. The central plaza was a mess of wagons, horses and soldiers. In amidst it stood Tycho, normally so relaxed, red-faced and barking out orders.

  ‘Thank Madria you are back,’ he declared when he saw Theron, with little humour.

  ‘What is going on?’ Theron asked.

  ‘Straton is raising an army,’ Tycho replied.
‘Sebastian has ordered me to bring a force back to Heractus.’ He looked at Belwynn. ‘Elana was attacked—she’s fine, don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘But Straton seems to be making alliances with our enemies.’

  ‘What are Sebastian’s orders?’ Theron asked him.

  ‘Bring back most of the knights and recruit infantry. I have enlisted fifty townsfolk. It means leaving a skeleton force here. I’ve put Leontios in charge.’

  Theron nodded his approval.

  ‘It’s not as simple as you might think, Theron. I’ve had reports of armies marching up and down Persala, of war in Haskany. The Isharites are on the move again. If they strike at our eastern border now, there’s nothing to stop them.’

  ‘Then we need to deal with Straton as soon as possible.’

  They rode to Heractus with all speed, leaving behind the soldiers who had to travel on foot. As they approached the capital, they saw that a tented camp had been established on the fields to the south of the city. They could see some soldiers there, being drilled on spear work. But there were not many.

  When they were admitted past the city walls, the others went straight to find Sebastian, but Belwynn had a job to do first. Little Lyssa, tired out from the ride, needed a place to stay. Belwynn took her to the room in the castle that she shared with Soren.

  ‘This is where you will stay now,’ Belwynn explained to her. ‘That is Soren’s bed and this is mine.’

  ‘I don’t have a bed,’ observed Lyssa.

  ‘You can sleep with me for now,’ said Belwynn. ‘And soon Soren will be leaving. Then you can have his bed.’

  Lyssa nodded sleepily.

  ‘I will fetch you something to eat and drink. Then I need to speak with Soren and the others. But I will come back here when I am done.’

  When Belwynn found them, in Sebastian’s office, they had already talked much of it out. Who the enemy was, where they were, what they should do. Belwynn found that she wasn’t as desperate to know all the details as she once would have been.

  Sebastian, Theron and Tycho had a map before them and a pile of letters, no doubt reports from their supporters on the situation in the different parts of the country. Gyrmund and Moneva were sitting, not far apart, both of them looking more contented than she had seen them in a long while. Soren sat with his arms folded, one hand resting on his staff. Finally, Elana was there too. She looked perfectly well despite her scare. Belwynn slipped in while Sebastian was talking and sat next to the priestess, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘You are well?’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course,’ Elana whispered back. ‘Soren tells me you know the whereabouts of the rest of the weapons?’

  Belwynn nodded. Elana smiled and returned her attention to the conversation.

  ‘So,’ said Soren, ‘you are suggesting that it won’t be a week until your army can leave Heractus?’

  ‘I would say so,’ replied Sebastian. The Grand Master looked disappointed in the delay. In fact, Belwynn thought, he looked older, more careworn.

  ‘And you are sure you won’t need my help?’

  The Knights all looked at each other.

  ‘We need to match their infantry force,’ Theron said eventually. ‘Once we do that, I am convinced of our superiority. So, thank you Soren, but I don’t think that will be necessary.’

  ‘Then it is decided,’ said Soren. ‘I don’t think we should waste any time. Gyrmund, Moneva, Belwynn and I will make plans to head to the Jalakh Steppe. If tomorrow is too early, then the day after.’

  I’m not going, Belwynn told him.

  Soren turned to her, looking unsettled, and she felt a rush of guilt for not discussing this before. He opened his mouth to say something else to the group, then closed it again. ‘Belwynn,’ he said. ‘Can I talk to you?’

  While the rest of them looked on, Belwynn got up from her chair and followed her brother out of the room.

  Soren walked on a bit farther and then turned to face her in the corridor.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I should have said something to you. But you did kind of assume I was going without asking me.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked, looking genuinely baffled. He was hurt too, he couldn’t hide it from her.

  ‘I have people here who need me, Soren. I have left Elana for too long. You know that Theron—’ she paused, embarrassed. ‘However foolish it might be, the Knights find strength when I am there.’

  ‘Yes, but I need you too, Belwynn. I’m your brother. No-one else is doing anything to find these weapons. I need your support. I always have. You know that.’

  ‘Soren,’ she chided. ‘Gyrmund and Moneva will be with you. Besides, what real use am I going to be to you? I’m more use here. And, although I don’t like us being apart, our abilities may be useful this way. We can keep in touch with each other.’

  Belwynn thought better of mentioning one other factor. Lyssa. She really didn’t like the idea of leaving her, even though she knew that Elana would look after her.

  ‘Belwynn,’ he said. ‘I’m asking you to come with me.’

  She smiled. He knew he always got her to do what he wanted. That had been at the heart of their relationship for years.

  She took his hands. ‘And I’m telling you no.’

  It was time for that to change.

  They stood for a while, his hands still in hers, looking into each other’s eyes. Something important and unspoken passed between them.

  I understand, said Soren.

  When they returned, everyone was standing, ready to go. The hour was getting late and everyone looked tired.

  Belwynn undid the belt that held Toric’s Dagger and held the weapon out to Moneva.

  Moneva took it and then embraced Belwynn.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly in Belwynn’s ear. ‘Not just for the Dagger.’

  Belwynn smiled as Moneva released her. ‘Thank you for looking after Elana for me. I heard you did a pretty good job.’

  ‘I’m walking Elana back to her house,’ said Moneva. ‘Everyone has agreed that someone will be with her at all times. Haven’t they, dear?’ she asked the priestess.

  Elana rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine now.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Belwynn.

  ‘What was that about?’ Moneva asked her as the three women were ushered through the gates of the royal castle and began to walk down to the town. ‘With your brother?’

  ‘I told Soren I’m not going with you.’

  ‘Thought so.’

  ‘It’s not because of me, I hope,’ said Elana. ‘I am perfectly happy to carry on by myself, Belwynn. I feel that my current duty is to build this community. But getting the weapons is of the utmost importance, of course.’

  ‘It’s not just because of you, Elana,’ said Moneva. ‘She needs to stay with Theron, too, don’t you Belwynn?’ she asked with a knowing look.

  ‘Of course, how silly of me,’ said Elana, unable to suppress a little smile from hovering about her face.

  ‘Yes, the Knights need me,’ said Belwynn archly. She was damned if she was going to let these two embarrass her over Theron.

  Moneva made a face and puffed air out of her cheeks in mock outrage at this remark, but let the topic slide.

  ‘So, who is raising an army against us?’ asked Belwynn.

  ‘The head priests of the temples, who want Elana dead,’ said Moneva. ‘They’re formed an alliance with Straton, who wants rid of the Knights. His friend, the Count of Ampelios, escaped with Straton last week. Straton has authority as heir to the throne, Ampelios apparently has money, making them a dangerous pair.’

  ‘Sebastian’s enemies within the Order are also rumoured to be involved,’ added Elana. ‘Do you remember a knight called Euthymius, Belwynn?’

  ‘A little.’

  She remembered him from The High Tower, as the most vocal supporter of Galenos, the former Grand Master of the Knights whom Sebastian had displaced.

  ‘He is supposed
to be gathering knights who are loyal to Galenos, even though Galenos himself is still imprisoned in the Tower. Sebastian is worried about it. He fears not only the force that Euthymius might raise, but also the affect it could have on the rest of the Order. Many knights may choose not to get involved on either side, for fear of having to fight their own brethren. And that could give an advantage to Straton.’

  They had reached Elana’s house. They had told Belwynn enough to make her realise that the threat was serious. But while she acknowledged it, she felt too tired to worry about it until tomorrow.

  They said brief farewells to Elana, before Belwynn and Moneva retraced their steps back to the castle, where the guards saw them coming and had the gates open for them.

  Saying goodnight to Moneva, Belwynn made her way to the tower where her room was. She quietly opened the door and peered in. Soren lay asleep in one bed, and Lyssa in the other. The thought of an uncomfortable night squeezed in next to Lyssa didn’t appeal. She let the door shut, then padded back down the tower stairs.

  Without really thinking about it, Belwynn found herself outside Theron’s room. She raised her hand to knock on the door. Maybe she should think about this. She knew if she did, she would leave, so she knocked on the door before she could talk herself out of it.

  The door opened slightly, and Theron peered out. He opened it fully when he realised who it was.

  She had got him out of bed. He was half dressed.

  ‘Belwynn, is everything alright?’ he asked.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ she reassured him. ‘I’ve just lost my bed, that’s all. So I came here.’

  ‘Come in,’ he said.

  She entered his room and he shut the door behind her. Her stomach was swimming with butterflies. What did she think she was doing here?

  She turned to face him. He was looking at her and she looked back at him, feeling her heartbeat race, her breathing getting shallow.

  We both want this so much, she told herself.

 

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