The Star Of Saree (GODS OF THE FOREVER SEA Book 3)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  Gritting his teeth, he moved to her. He was no meddler, but something had to be done. “Why are you being so cruel to Kian?” the Toran blurted out.

  Endra’s dark eyes narrowed. “I haven’t even spoken to him in days. Who says I am being cruel?”

  “That’s the harshness I am talking about. When we went north for the prince, you spoke of marriage. Now you don’t even look in the man’s direction.”

  “Things change,” Endra said with a shrug. “Cromwell, I know Kian is your friend, but this is really none of your affair. I suggest you go make ready for tomorrow’s battle and leave me be.”

  “By Fane’s iron balls, it is my affair. Kian is my friend and so are you. Why are you two at odds? I can make no sense of it.”

  She sighed and patted the horse. “I have no explanation for you, my friend. I don’t think I can stand to be with the half-breed anymore. I just don’t love him. It was foolish of me to ever think I could be with someone who wasn’t…human.”

  Cromwell frowned. He had never heard Endra speak that way of Kian, or anyone else. “You have been bewitched. That little sorceress from the Circle has cast a spell on you. It was clear she meant to stir trouble between you two.”

  Endra laughed. “I haven’t been bewitched, Bull. I just don’t love Kian, and I don’t have time to waste on him. We are mercenaries, any day could be our last. I want a man, a real man, to spend my time with and not some creature that has been patched together like an old quilt. None of us even truly know what he is anymore.”

  “What about the children?” Cromwell asked, grasping for a point to argue.

  “They are fine and will get on well enough without him around. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to tend to, brother.” She casually led her horse away without a backwards glance.

  Cromwell stood there still trying to fathom what could have happened to the woman to cause her to have such a change of heart.

  Feeling a small poke in his massive back, Cromwell turned to find Ashlyn standing behind him. The warrior looked down at the small woman. Ashlyn’s bangs had nearly grown over her big brown eyes. “You should cut your hair, Matea. You don’t want that mop in your eyes when the fight comes.”

  “It will be fine. These things happen all the time,” she said, ignoring his grooming advice.

  “What are you talking about?” the Toran said, trying to act as if he didn’t know.

  “Endra and Kian, they will part and they both will still be your friends.”

  “I don’t think it is right. Endra has something wrong with her. I can see no reason for her to behave like this.”

  “Maybe she has a reason.”

  Cromwell folded his huge arms across his chest. “What do you know about it?”

  “When we stopped last night, I drank a good deal of wine with Beck and Hastings while we unhitched the wagons. I passed out in the back of a cart after we finished. When I woke up, the moon was well past its zenith. As I stumbled around looking for a place to lay my head, I saw her and Kago between two of the wagons.”

  “So what?” Cromwell said, his throat tightening. “She sometimes speaks with that dog.”

  Ashlyn put her hand on the Toran’s forearm. “They weren’t speaking.”

  Cromwell thought for a moment, and then his hands clenched into fists and his face turned red.

  “Damn it. Take a breath,” Ashlyn said. “You can’t do anything, nor should you. It is between them.”

  “I fucking don’t like Kattan. He has been nothing but trouble since we picked him up from that battlefield in Gallio. We should have left him to rot, even if he did save Rhys’s life.”

  “Kian is a man. He will handle all this without you. In fact, I’m sure it would embarrass him that you knew.”

  Cromwell thought for a moment. “I will say nothing. I would never do something that would cause him shame. I just hope I’m there when Kian kills that half- Sidian snake.”

  Ashlyn patted him on the back. “We will be.”

  The Kingdom of Trimenia was nearly surrounded by the Blue Dagger Mountains, making most of the land one of rolling hills and thin soil. Small areas of open pastureland dotted with cottages and farms filled the countryside. Trees of beech, spruce, and oak rose up in small patches or in large dark forests haunting the land with their shadows.

  The country’s terrain made it difficult for large cities to be built. Brova was special case. Tucked beneath the grandeur of the royal palace high on the hill above it, Brova had been constructed on one of the kingdom’s largest expanses of flatland. Fifteen-foot-high walls made from cut stone surrounded the city. Behind the outer wall, a small one had been snugged up against it. The inner wall was ten feet in height with a flat top, making the fortification easy to patrol. The four-foot-thick wall wasn’t made to withstand a siege. The palace’s outer defenses and its adjoining grounds had been designed for that. Brova’s wall was built to regulate trade in and out of the city, nothing more.

  Today, however, the king’s army stood outside the walls. They had drawn up its ranks outside the city, knowing that soon their rebellious countrymen would assault the capital. It was clear they didn’t plan to use the city’s defenses. They planned to meet the renegades on the open plain, and Brova’s fate would be decided before the sunset.

  Pepca had insisted on coming with the hodge-podge army, feeling both that it was her duty and that Dimitri would want her there to be his eyes. If not for an early morning visit from Tempest, she would never have learned her brother’s plan to lead his men into battle himself. Now she frantically dashed through the ranks of soldiers as they took their positions, trying to find her foolish sibling.

  This madness had to be stopped. Dimitri couldn’t fight anyone, he was blind. Riding into battle would spell his death as surely as the sun rose every morning. Why Captain Strom would allow it had to remain a mystery for now. The mercenary captain had ridden off with his company well before the sun rose. When she saw him again, he would get a good tongue-lashing from her for even entertaining the ridiculous notion.

  One lone tent sat behind the renegade army as it deployed onto the city’s plain. A small dirty thing, the tent had been no doubt set up to hide Dimitri’s blindness from the soldiers while he readied himself for battle. K’xarr’s man Beck stood before the tent’s entrance. The greasy-haired mercenary grinned at her as she approached. “This is no place for you, Princess. You should find a spot with the other spectators,” Beck said, pointing to where a small group of women stood. The little crowd consisted of the wives of some of the rebels, who dared to watch the bloody spectacle.

  “I want to see my brother.”

  “He is getting ready. K’xarr set me the task of seeing to him, and neither of us need any help from you…Highness.”

  “Move aside,” Pepca ordered.

  Beck shook his head and held his hand out. “I told you no, Princess.”

  “It is alright. Let her in,” Dimitri’s voice commanded from inside the filthy shelter.

  The dirty mercenary spit on the ground and stepped aside as Pepca slid through the tent’s flap. A mercenary with large ears was helping her brother don his armor. Dimitri turned in her direction, but his sightless eyes stared over the top of her head. “Pepca, why are you here?”

  “I was going to relay the battle’s movements to you, but I see you plan to be in the middle of it.”

  “Tench, could you give us moment?” Dmitri asked.

  The big-eared warrior walked out of the tent without a word.

  The prince pulled at the collar of his breastplate. “I planned to speak with you about this.”

  “There is nothing to talk about. You will die, Dimitri. I can’t let you do it.”

  “It is my life, not yours.” The blind prince reached out for her and Pepca took his hand. “You have fed and cared for me, and K’xarr has been helping me hide my sightlessness, his mercenaries whispering to me what I should be seeing and how I should respond to it. Now I must stand on
my own. If we are to defeat Serban, I must lead my men into this battle. They must have their prince to urge them on.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Pepca said through clenched teeth. “I think you just want to die. You’re being selfish, Dimitri.” She watched his head fall. Pepca hadn’t noticed how thin he had become over the winter or how weak he seemed. “Your death will not serve any purpose. You have given up on Trimenian and your life…and on me.”

  “I was right. You are a wise young woman.” Dmitri squeezed her hand. “I am not lying about the men though, they will fight harder with me at their side, but you are right in that I am done with this world, I will not live this way, and it is selfish of you to try and make me.”

  Tears fell from Pepca’s eyes. “I need you. If you are gone, I will have no one.”

  “That’s not true. You have your friends, and you have your duty, sister. I spoke with K’xarr. You will be the Queen of Trimenia if we are victorious.”

  Pepca let go of her brother’s hand and took a step back. “No, I don’t want the throne. Besides, what of Mother and Father?”

  “I would think Serban would have killed them by now, but even if he hasn’t, they must answer for what they have done. Father took my sight as sure as Serban. He allowed the blood drinker to torture and blind me, and he was going to let that monster execute you, Pepca, he and mother both. They don’t deserve to rule Trimenia. They don’t deserve anything.” The prince closed his eyes for a moment and went on. “I have spoken with K’xarr on this matter. If Mother and Father live, he will see they abdicate. The crown will be yours”

  Pepca shook her head. “What about Danika? She would be a much better queen than me.”

  “Danika is married to Henry. Do you want our ancestors’ land in the hands of the King of Warmark?”

  “No, but…”

  “It has been settled. If we manage to take back our land from those who have corrupted it, you will reign in Trimenia. You must be the one to restore her glory, Pepca. We owe the people that much.”

  Pepca bit her lip. She couldn’t restore anything. She had the wolf inside her now. How would she ever be able to do anything with that curse hanging over her head? She wanted to tell Dimitri, but the words wouldn’t come. She was too ashamed to tell him what she had allowed Julian to do to her.

  “We must all do our duty. Mine is to ride into this battle, and yours will come later, once this bloodshed is over. Use Captain Strom if you can. He is crude and a bit greedy, but I think you will find he is a man who can get things done.”

  “Please, don’t do this. I am begging you,” Pepca pleaded.

  “This is what I want, what I must have. If you love me, Pepca, you will hand me my helmet and kiss me good-bye.”

  She threw her arms around Dimitri and he cupped her head with his gauntleted hand. He leaned down and with trembling lips, she kissed his cheek. It was something he had never done.

  Pepca reached down and picked up he brother’s helmet. Shaking, she placed it in his hands.

  “I love you, sister, and have every faith in you. You are the best of us, Pepca.” Without another word, he stepped forward. “Beck, I am ready.” The mercenary came in and took his arm. “Farewell, dear girl,” Dimitri said as he was led from the tent.

  “I love you,” she called after him, her words broken by misery. Sobbing, Pepca sunk to her knees. She knew it was the last time she would ever speak to her brother.

  * * *

  Constantine stood with his arms folded across his chest. Vladimir and the people’s general were both clad in suits of fine armor and armed with swords of quality. The thousands of men and women behind them were not so lucky. Most were unarmored, many carrying hunting spears, knives or axes. They had however managed to outfit some of their army with weapons salvaged from the winter attack on the rebel camp. At least those brave souls would have a fighting chance.

  K’xarr was right. If the peasants attacked the Trimenian regulars on the open plain, they would be slaughtered. Constantine, however, didn’t agree with the supporting role the army of the rebellion had been given. The man seethed at the mercenary’s order to keep his people in reserve.

  Vladimir was beginning to realize that Constantine wasn’t overly concerned with how many men and women lost their lives, as long as their deaths saw his cause fulfilled. Vladimir didn’t understand their leader’s anger. It was he who had led them into battle the first time the rebels had tried to take Brova, and he had no plan to change his strategy this time. Constantine’s theory was he needed to be in the rear to direct the battle. It seemed his righteous cause wasn’t worth the general risking his own life, but it made Vladimir a little guilty to think unkindly of the man. After all, it had been Constantine who organized the rebellion in the first place. It wasn’t his fault they had never achieved anything.

  The shapechanger’s attention turned to the Trimenian deserters as Prince Dimitri took his place at the head of their lines. K’xarr had assigned one of his men to act as the prince’s squire. In truth, it was the man’s job to lead the sightless prince to his place in the line. Vladimir thought Dimitri’s courage must be limitless. Charging into battle was hard enough on the nerves, but doing it without one’s eyes took a valiant heart.

  Constantine sneered as the prince pulled himself into the saddle. The general didn’t care one bit what the man was sacrificing. His only comment on the act was there would be one less member of the royal family to deal with when the fight was over.

  “Look at that arrogant bastard, Vladimir. Blind as a bat, he still needs to show his dominance over his people.”

  “Today, he is going to die for them. Don’t you think that shows true nobility? Prince Dimitri is what a king should be.”

  Constantine scoffed. “He is nothing more than a helpless fool. Good riddance, I say.”

  Katrina came up and joined them just as Vladimir was about to lose his patience with his general. With Grigore gone, the young woman had taken on more responsibility. Vladimir hoped Katrina was up to it.

  “Everyone is ready. If we are needed, the people are prepared to fight,” Katrina said with confidence.

  “Good. Let us hope Dimitri and Strom can take the city without us having to spill any more of our people’s blood. We have endured enough death,” Vladimir said soberly.

  “Katrina, I thought you would be with Strom and his men?” Constantine said without looking at the woman.

  Vladimir watched Katrina’s face turn bright red. There must be something going on between the mercenary captain and the redheaded warrior that he had missed.

  “I am here with our people…where I belong,” Katrina spat back.

  “Good. I am sure you will be needed,” Constantine said with a knowing smile.

  * * *

  The city could not be seen from where K’xarr had stationed his lines. He didn’t want Serban’s forces knowing his exact position. The mercenary captain would have to rely on a chain of signal pennants to know when to launch his attack. Men had been stationed ahead so that once the attack began, they could relay the signal from one man to the next until K’xarr had been alerted that the battle was joined. Then the order would be given to advance. Besides the Sons, the mercenary captain had taken the bulk of Dimitri’s cavalry, leaving the prince just enough to draw out Serban’s horsemen.

  Kian wasn’t one for plans, but he had little doubt in K’xarr when it came to war. His friend had proven himself to be quite cagy on the battlefield.

  The swordsman had dismounted and now stood out ahead of the line of horse soldiers. Silence was stuck in the ground to his right and his hands were clasped behind his back. Kian’s body tingled and his head pulsed. Voices had begun to whisper in his mind, all wishing different things from him. Why had Endra turned away from him? He could not reason it out. It was all he could do to keep his temper in check.

  “Are you ready?” Cromwell asked.

  The Toran had hovered nearby since they had formed up their lines. “I am
,” Kian said with a nod.

  Cromwell seemed out of sorts. The Toran was usually anxious when he knew battle was coming, but the Toran Bull seemed almost reserved today. “Is something troubling you?” Kian asked.

  The big man hesitated for a moment. “No, just ready to finish this. Trimenia isn’t to my liking.”

  “Mine either,” Kian agreed.

  “About Endra…”

  Kian held up his hand, cutting the Toran off. “It is my trouble, and I will see to it.”

  “I know, brother. I just wanted to say I am with you.”

  Kian looked up at Cromwell’s brooding face. “I have never doubted that.”

  * * *

  Prince Dimitri was killed as the two lines clashed. A lance driven through his heart took him from the saddle and ended his life. His vision better than a normal human’s, Vladimir watched the prince fall as Serban’s cavalry swung wide to attack the prince’s men on the left, just as K’xarr predicted. West of the city, he saw a man stand and wave a green pennant. That would start the chain of signals.

  Strom’s horsemen would come from the west and hit the enemy in the flank. Vladimir grinned; the mercenary captain had a mind for war. It was good to have a man that knew what he was doing on their side for a change.

  Without warning, the rebel army let out a shout and surged forward. Vladimir glanced around him in confusion as the rebels began to run towards the battle. Constantine stood to the side of the mass of angry peasants. The rebel general was waving his sword above his head and urging them on. Vladimir was nearly knocked to the ground as he made his way to where Constantine stood. “What are you doing?” he shouted above the roar of his people.

  “I am sending our army into battle. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Strom said hold and wait. Our men will only block his advance.”

  “I don’t take orders from Strom and I won’t let that sellsword steal my people’s glory. This is our kingdom and we will be the ones to win it back.”