She rose to a crouch, duck-walked a few more cautious steps along the canyon floor, and then judged that the time had come to make her move.
Willow screamed a fierce battle cry, shattering the relative quiet of the night. She sprinted along the canyon floor to the place from which she judged she would be the most visible.
The Kards gathered around the edges of the canyon walls, torches in their hands.
Her life had taken a strange road recently. While she wasn’t particularly prudish, it had been nearly two centuries during which scarcely a living soul had seen her unclothed. And then, suddenly, within the last week she had been naked before Suel, Snyde, and Tamlevar.
And now this.
She removed her shirt and laid it on the ground beside her jacket. Then she unsheathed her knife and placed it atop of her shirt.
She stepped away from her gear and raised her arms above her in defiance.
“Kurruk-Meh!” she shouted. “I challenge you, you hairy bastards! Kurruk-Meh!”
She beat her chest with her fists.
“Kurruk-Meh!”
Then she waited. At first, there was nothing, and then suddenly they began to laugh. She had hoped to force a reaction from them. This was not it.
“Kurruk-Meh!” she shouted. “Cowards! Fight me!”
The laughter grew into guffaws. Oh, she was an entertaining one, this elf.
Then another voice broke the night: Snyde’s from one of the distant bulwarks, perhaps a hundred and fifty yards from her. “Willow? Is that you? In the name of the gods, get down. We’re surrounded by the barbarians!”
She ignored him. “Kurruk-Meh!”
The laughter increased. It was all around her.
“Kurruk-Meh!” she shouted.
“Bargaha pu chaluh,” said one of the Kards, and there was much laughter in response.
She singled him out. “Kurruk-Meh! Fight me, you coward!”
The Kard put his hand on his hips and mimicked her in a falsetto: “Kurruk-Meh! Fet meh mew cowahz!” His jest was well-received by his peers, who thought him comedy personified.
Time to raise the stakes a little.
She knelt and sought a suitable stone. She stood, took careful aim, and then lobbed the stone.
It cut a high arc in the night sky. The stone’s flight reached its apex and began its decent.
“Huh?” said her antagonist just before the stone bounced off his skull. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.
Now the laughter was at his expense and not hers.
“Kurruk-Meh, you dung-eating slave! Kurruk-Meh!”
The Kard whom she had hit leapt to his feet. He charged down the slope at her. “Kurruk-Meh pah don,” he said, a savage grin spreading across his face.
The other Kards roared their approval, crowding the edges of the canyon. Quickly, she searched for the leaders, and saw none. Good, that was precisely what she wanted. We’re far too sophisticated to watch a challenge among the rabble, but boys will be boys.
Come on, Willow thought, enjoy the show. Everybody push forward; get a good view of the crazy elf woman challenging one of the biggest brutes in your war party. This should be quite a spectacle.
When her opponent reached the canyon floor, he took a few steps towards her, and then cast his eyes up and down across her body. He turned back to his audience, his hands cupped in front of his chest.
“Bahdaye ma poo chee!”
Willow puzzled at the words, trying to make sense of them. Poo che was a kind of fruit, she remembered, and not a particularly large one. She was pretty sure she got the gist of what he was trying to say.
She pointed at his loincloth. “Poo chee!”
The Kard’s friends shared a good laugh at his expense. His face reddened, and he tossed aside his axe.
“Kurruk-Meh,” he said between his teeth, and then lunged at her.
She side-stepped out the path of his lunge and caught him in the abdomen with a solid roundhouse kick. His stomach was hard as iron, and as far as she could tell, he barely felt the blow.
She circled, keeping her distance. Now came the hard part. She had to stall as long as possible to buy the others time, but not so long that the mood of the crowd broke, or that she got hurt.
Not only was the Kard big, but he was really fast. A bad combination. He swung a huge fist that grazed her temple and almost stunned her. She immediately countered with an open handed slap across his nose.
The Kard howled in rage and leapt at her, but she dodged. He changed course and lunged again. She slapped him on the ear as she evaded.
She tried throwing a jab at his nose, hoping to draw blood. To her surprise, he caught her arm and pulled her towards him. He grabbed both of her shoulders.
She tried to knee him in the groin, but he had been anticipating that. As her knee came up, he let go of one of her shoulders and used his free hand to scoop up her leg and lift her off the ground.
“No!” she cried.
The Kard brought her face towards his. She tried slapping him again, but he pre-empted it with a head butt to her temple. The night erupted into a fire-burst, and then suddenly she was flying through the sky.
She tried to twist, to land feet-first, but she landed on her left shoulder instead and she heard it dislocate. She heard it, but she didn’t feel a thing. That was a bad sign. When a wound didn’t hurt, it usually meant that she was in shock and that in a few moments it would start to hurt like hell.
She climbed to her feet. The Kard charged her again, but she evaded him, circled, trying to keep her distance.
“Burruk,” the Kard was muttering. “Burruk …”
Suddenly, she remembered the Kardic word for “goat”: dak. It was a poor insult, but it was all she could think of.
“Dak,” she said. “Dak, dak, dak.” Come on, you goat. Let’s finish this.
“Dak?” The Kard was incredulous. “Bah duh dak meh!”
He faked high and then came in low, trying to take her to the ground. She saw through the fake, but he was so damn big that she couldn’t stop him. He bent down and scooped up her legs, sending her head crashing to the dirt.
She writhed on the ground, trying to extricate her legs from his grip. One came free, and she used it to kick him hard in the face. And again. And again. Now blood was pouring from his nose, but he didn’t seem to notice.
The Kard stepped between her legs and planted his knee onto one of her thighs, pinning it. She tried to kick him with her other leg, but he grabbed it and forced it to the ground. He pinned that with his other knee.
Her hips were immobilized. She could no longer evade him. She reached for his groin with her good arm, but he caught it with one hand. A feral smile was pasted across his filthy face.
He reached for her neck with his free hand. It was large enough and strong enough to choke the life out of her.
But before he could touch her, she chopped him in the throat with the edge of her good hand. She felt the satisfying crunch of his windpipe as it collapsed.
“…?” The puzzled Barbarian couldn’t speak. His hands went to his throat, clutching at it with increasing desperation. His face turned red, and then purple. He fell onto his back, writhed for a few minutes, and then was still.
Willow scrambled to her feet. This was the moment upon which her plan hinged.
According to Kardic tradition, she had challenged the entire attacking force and had defeated its champion. In theory, she could now command the entire force unless her orders were countermanded by one of the leaders.
That is, if she had been a Kard. She wasn’t sure how well the rules applied to elves.
Well, now is the time to find out, she thought. She sought the correct words.
“Buh-aye!” she shouted. “Chigar moog!” Run. Go away.
Now, if things had gone badly with Pree-Var-Us then the leaders would countermand her order. After that, the Kards would swarm down on her and kill her. If things had gone correctly, all the leaders had been kille
d by the elves and Tamlevar while she had held everybody’s attention with the fight.
She waited. There were arguments and some cries of consternation. But no countermanding order.
“Chigar moog!” she repeated. “Chigar moog!”
Slowly, the crowd above began to disperse. She could scarcely believe her eyes.
The Kardic force continued to dwindle down to nothing. And then, a few minutes later, the faces of elves appeared in their places. The elves parted before Tamlevar.
“Nicely done,” he said, beaming at her. “But are you sure you wouldn’t want to go best two out of three?”
She was going to snap at him, but she passed out before she could think of what to say.
Chapter 41
“Willow, can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes. The pain in her shoulder was excruciating, and every time she shifted her position, it crested a new summit of agony.
“Can you hear me?” It was Tamlevar’s voice, soft and insistent.
Her eyes focused on his worried face, and she scowled.
“I’m injured, not deaf.” She looked about at the elves gathered around her. Off in the distance she saw some Bryanaen soldiers approaching. Presumably, Snyde was at their forefront.
“How long was I out?” she said.
“Only a few moments.” Tamlevar clasped her hand in both of his. “I need to fix that shoulder of yours.”
“So fix it.”
“You don’t understand. It’s going to hurt quite a lot.”
She snorted.
“All right,” he said, showing her his palms. “Just the same, I’m going to ask Pree-Var-Us and some of his elves to hold you down.”
He positioned the elves, and they clamped her to the earth.
“On the count of three,” Tamlevar said. “One …”
He yanked her arm and the previous pain she had been experiencing dwarfed in comparison. Against her will, against her very being, she cried out.
And then it was done and Tamlevar was stroking her face, trying to soothe her. She took a few heavy breaths to recover and then slapped away his hand.
“I’m fine,” she said, and climbed to her feet. She staggered once, but righted herself. She swung her arm in small circles, testing it. It would serve.
And yes, it was Snyde who led the group of soldiers. He ran toward her with an expression that spoke of mixed parts concern and resolution. Her knees buckled at the sight of him, but Tamlevar caught her.
“You’re still weak from your fight,” he said, but she could tell that he only said that to help her save face. Surely, he must know how fast her heart was beating just to even be near Snyde again. The realization revolted her. To be laid low by a man, especially one such as he.
“I’m all right,” she said, not looking at Tamlevar. Her eyes were riveted on Snyde.
“Wait here,” she said, and walked to meet Snyde.
“Hello, Willow,” he said when they had closed the distance.
Snyde seemed unharmed by the battle, even though she could now see that the ground was littered with dead soldiers.
“How many men did you lose?” she said.
Snyde smiled. “I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?”
“This isn’t the time for jokes, Captain Snyde. Bryanae is in great danger. There are over a hundred thousand Kards here. Bryanae has to get reinforcements. There’s no way we”—she corrected herself—“I mean you can withstand an army that large. You have to warn them while I rescue the Prince.”
“Eric,” Snyde said, his eyes sad.
“What?”
“Can’t you call me Eric after … after what we’ve been through together?”
“Are you insane? The safety of Bryanae and her Prince is at stake, and all you care about is pillow talk?”
He sighed. “Now, you know that’s—”
Suddenly, Tee-Ri’s shrill voice split the night.
“Waeh-Loh, dear, is that you?”
Chapter 42
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Tee-Ri said to Tamlevar. She tossed her hair like a golden wave, and her smile was equally as gilt. There was a lascivious gleam in her eyes. “I beg you, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Tamlevar,” he said, with a bow and a flourish. “Late of the King’s Guard.”
“A soldier!” she said, her eyes alight. “And so tall, too.”
“Formerly a soldier.”
“Knock it off, Mother,” Willow said through her teeth. “Leave him alone.”
Tee-Ri arched an eyebrow at Willow: oh, really?
Tee-Ri hooked her arm through Tamlevar’s. “Well you shall be my escort, Tamlevar, seeing as my previous ‘escorts’ were my captors.”
“Now wait a—” Snyde protested, but Tee-Ri continued.
“Their ship overtook ours at sea,” she bubbled, “and since they are supposedly on some kind of hush-hush mission, they pirated our boat—”
“Ha!” Snyde said.
“—and took me captive. But you’ll protect me, won’t you, Tamlevar? You’ve got such a good face, and you certainly look strong enough to do the job.” He reached a dainty hand forward and felt his biceps.
“Oh, my,” Tee-Ri said, and Willow rolled her eyes.
“Well, I …” Tamlevar faltered, glancing at Willow. He shivered beneath her baleful gaze. “Well, sure. I mean, we all can protect you. Especially Willow.”
Tee-Ri laughed, standing with her arms akimbo.
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll try very hard to protect me …” She fixed Willow with an evil grin. “… seeing as she threatened to kill me when she next saw me, which is now.”
“Willow!” Tamlevar said.
“I don’t have to answer to you,” Willow said. “We have to return to base. The Kards are certain to return. We need to be gone before they arrive.”
“Agreed,” Snyde said, and headed back to his men. They had collected in a formation of two rows, each five men wide. Not much of an army to pit against a hundred thousand Kards. This war was going very badly already, and it hadn’t even been declared yet.
“Tamlevar,” she said. “line up the elven troops.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Tamlevar said with evident misgiving. He started to walk away but Tee-Ri stopped him.
“Will you just look at her, playing soldier. Just like her father.”
“Don’t you even think about talking about my father,” Willow said, her eyes aimed at her mother like a pair of crossbows. “I’m warning you.”
“Oh the pair of you, such brave warriors!”
“Your Majesty,” Tamlevar said, glancing about nervously. The dark of night shrouded them in cover, but might also be hiding more enemies. “Perhaps this isn’t the right time for this discussion.”
“Sure it is,” Tee-Ri said, and patted Tamlevar on his cheek. “Did Waeh-Loh ever tell you about the time she woke us all up with her tiny little screams?”
“Mother, you’re pressing your luck. Even my patience has its limits.”
“Hush, dear. Let me tell your friend here about how brave you are. It won’t take long. You see, Tamlevar, I remember being awakened one frigid winter night by these appalling screams coming from the hallway in which Waeh-Loh’s room was located. Immediately, an alarm sounded throughout the castle in response. The princess was in peril! Mobilize the guards!
“I of course leapt from our bed and ran to her room in my bed clothes. From the sound of her cries, she was surely being murdered.” Tee-Ri rolled her eyes. “The poor dear.”
Willow shook her head. “I was just a child, Mother.”
“I rounded the corner to find the guards already banging on the door and calling out to her. But she just kept screaming and wouldn’t answer! So I had the guards batter down the door. It took them several minutes, during which Waeh-Loh continued to wail in terror. My concern for her mounted.”
“I’ll bet,” said Willow.
“Doubt me if you want, but I was terrified at the prospe
ct of my only child being slaughtered by some horrible assassin. It would have been the end of me.” She waved the thought away as though it were a cloud of smoke. “But anyway, the guards managed to break open the door, and we all rushed in to find Waeh-Loh huddled in ball on her bed in her nightgown, still screaming her tiny little lungs out. The guards searched high and low for intruders, looking behind the curtains, in the wardrobe, and so on, but they couldn’t find anybody.
“ ‘What is it, dearest?’ I asked her. ‘What has upset you so?’ And when I finally got her calm enough to where she could answer, do you know what she said?”
Willow clenched her teeth and balled her fists. “This is your last warning, Mother. Shut up.”
“Oh hush,” Tee-Ri said to her. “Do you know what she said, Tamlevar, this brave warrior of great renown?”
Tamlevar seemed caught between Willow and her mother, not wanting to offend either. He shrugged in an as neutral manner as possible.
“She said that there had been a mouse.” Tee-Ri chuckled. “That’s right, a mouse. She was hysterical, the poor child, scrunched up on her bed in the corner of the room, and she pointed at the base of the wardrobe, where she said the mouse had run.
“There was no consoling her until we had found the mouse, so I had the guards move the wardrobe, and sure enough, a tiny baby mouse scampered out. It couldn’t have been longer than my index finger. The guards chased it around the room until one of them finally caught it. He was about to crush the little thing when Waeh-Loh began to wail again. So rather than squishing it, the guardsman tossed the mouse out the window.
“Oh, but then Waeh-Loh began to scream and scream like you couldn’t imagine. The poor mouse, she cried. The poor mouse! That’s right, the same poor mouse that had so terrified the little girl, now she was heart-broken that it had been tossed to its death on the courtyard below. She made the guards go down and find the wretched little thing and when they retrieved it, they had to bury it while we all got drenched in a pathetic memorial service. And oh, how she wept, this brave little warrior you say will protect us.”
Tee-Ri’s eyes met Willow’s, and she challenged her daughter with a smug little smile. Willow’s hand was clutching the hilt of her rapier, and her jaws were clenched.
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