Women of War

by Alexander Potter

  I will take you down, she swore.

  And if she died in the attempt, so be it. Her death was foreordained now. It hovered before her: a darkness on the edge of sight, torn threads of her broken bond pulling her out into a dark and empty void of peacefulness.

  But first, the Spirit War had to end. Two hundred years had not seen its conclusion—only a pause as combatants moved to a new frontier of battle. Victims of the war grew in number as soul-bindings linked innocents with once tortured spirits. Madness. Insanity. Death. The obstruction of lives. The breaking of a nation. It had to end.

  Mine will be the last hand of war—none else will suffer this! Sauri promised recklessly.

  Slipping unseen from Castelon headquarters would have taken a miraculous feat. Instead, Sauri swept down through the barracks as if she were whole. She saluted the guards standing patrol at the foot of the officers’ quarters, then paused to inspect a crew of gray-garbed cadets filling the oil lamps in the stairwell.

  One young cadet’s eyes misted upon greeting, getting the proper form of salute from her bonded spirit. Sauri’s fury rose at the girl’s cavalier attitude. “How dare you waste your soul-bond to cover your lack of practice. See the Second for punishment detail.”

  With wide eyes, the blonde girl offered a hand to heart, fingers drawn into a circle that was the proper greeting to a superior. “Sorry, First Castelon—I mean, yes, First Castelon.”

  At the cadet’s surprised words, Sauri recognized her error: using the bond for such things was common. How dare they take advantage of what they have? No wonder Kasash had aimed to destroy the bond, with it used in such slipshod manner. Shocked by her anger, the First Castelon bit out a feeble apology. “Never mind, cadet. Carry on.” Continuing onward, Sauri shut out the murmurs of confusion and questioning she left behind.

  Damn, I have to stay calm or someone will guess.

  But if any suspected her broken soul-bond, none questioned. No one asked. The First Castelon made it to the iron-garbed outer door without further pause. With a quick nod to the pair of guards stationed there, she exited the barracks. Outside, a practiced glance revealed the half-dozen sentries scattered through the trees and in the grasses nearby.

  A brawny man she recognised as Lieutenant Damor-Avaran dropped down from a concealed niche in the granite cliff and hurried over, offering a practiced salute.

  “First Castelon? Is all well?” he asked.

  Sauri nodded curtly. “Fine. I am going after IdrianKasash .”

  “A patrol left earlier. Should I call for some guards to accompany you?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  Sauri grimaced. “No. I’ll meet up with the patrol already out.”

  “But ...” Was he questioning her authority now? Sauri stared at him coldly until he stepped back, discomfited. Lips closed tightly on a curse, Sauri headed into the marsh. He’ll get others and follow. I must find IdrianKasash first!

  She slipped past the trees and through grasses no Castelon worth his pay would upset. Boots squelched in the mud. Finding her way back to where she had first found IdrianKasash did not take long. The granite monolith stood at a right angle to the old river way, and when giving Idrian lessons it had often served as their meeting point—the most recognizable location on this side of the mountains.

  Today though, the ground was littered with the prints of others hunting for Idrian. Broken branches and upset leaves marked a rushed search over a careful foray. Hunting the area for signs of movement, Sauri grew frustrated as the trails turned back on each other, adding to the confusion. Her vision spun as she chased each track down, still battling the numbing dizziness threatening to overwhelm her sanity.

  ::Where would IdrianKasash be?:: She thought wildly, mind locked into a path of internal thinking, accustomed to getting responses back. Dead silence answered. Her aching loss throbbed harshly. She gripped her bow tighter, transmuting horror into physical action.

  IdrianKasash had struck intentionally, knowing full well the effect his blow would have. He had laid her out for others to find—left her weapons. Which meant he knew she would be coming for him.

  ::You think you can turn me! Make me a plaything for your new war. I may be broken, but I will not be used.:: Her internal dialogue continued uncontrolled. Unheard.

  IdrianKasash wanted her to find him, so where would he go? Nowhere of Idrian’s memory drew her. It had to be Kasash’s choice.

  But where? All the Castelons knew the marshes. In his time, KasashDanitai would have led patrols all over the southwest border. He had helped press the enemy Zarristas back across the Escraen. He knew the land—would know hundreds of hiding holes.

  The most significant, then, Sauri reckoned. Two hundred years ago, Kasash and a group of hunters had come against a raiding party in a cavern uphill from the closest bend of the Escraen. It was there his medallion had been crushed, his link with Danitai severed. That day madness took him and in a frenzy of sheer horror he had cut out his first medallion—striking the first blow of the Spirit War. Where else would he go to begin it all again?

  Sauri crept through the marshes, bow at ready, keeping her footfalls as quiet as the devastating stillness eating her whole. At one point, she caught the specterlike movement of a Castelon party, likely searching for the same fugitive. As someone bent to examine the area she had just passed, Sauri crouched low in the tall sand-shaded grass. Not now! Sauri begged. She nocked an arrow, prepared to win free of restraint, but the party moved onward, tracing her route backward. When all sound of their passing faded, she resumed her hunt.

  Tracking silently along the edges of the cliff face, the First Castelon came upon the suspected cave. It bit into the skyward-reaching cliffs of the Kambarna like shards of glass, jagged with loose rock shading its inward passage. Close to her quarry, the ache of desire reared up and prompted her forward.

  A dozen steps inside the cave, she found a body spread out on the damp ground. A Castelon. Sauri recognized the girl’s face, but could not recall her name. Good with a bow, but better with throwing daggers. Dull, dead eyes were frozen in agony—mouth wrenched open in fear. What? Then Sauri saw the torn shirt. With bated breath, she rested her bow on the cavern floor and reached out to open the young Castelon’s shirt. She gasped at the mutilation.

  He’s done it again.

  At the edge of retching, Sauri offered a quick prayer for the young Castelon’s spirit. Much as that would do. When she came back, surely her binding would cause agony in one more innocent victim.

  “You enjoy seeing it—don’t you?” Lost in reflection, she startled as a voice echoed through the cave.

  Gasping, Sauri turned. A living shadow illuminated the cavern entrance.

  “Now that you know how I feel, you must understand my desires.” IdrianKasash drew nearer, shining eyes darkened to spirit gray.

  “No!” she denied, even as she relived her earlier desire to strike down a cadet. The Castelon at her feet was only a few years older.

  IdrianKasash smiled knowingly. “So you don’t feel the writhing agony of endless solitude? The pull of starless night on ropes leading out into the beyond?”

  Sauri shuddered. His descriptions were too accurate—too perfect an understanding of her pain. Her agony.

  “Why should anyone live to suffer this madness—this broken devastation of souls at such soft a blow? The binding is our weakness—not our salvation! Help me end it!”

  Sauri’s eyes teared in painful recognition. A shock to the skin and her very soul had been torn asunder. Her life shredded with her bonded in an instant blow that otherwise would have caused only momentary pain. Surely it was craziness to allow such a thing—to allow such weakness. Better not to have the soul-binding at all.

  Yet, what life for those without the binding?

  LaanaKendrisha’s steadfast encouragement had helped Sauri through life. The former First Castelon had given Sauri access to her memories—her own joys, her own loves. While the skills were Sauri’s own, many a time it had been
Laana’s memories helping to solve a problem. Without her knowledge, the Kambarna would have suffered—a number of Castelons would have died.

  “And your binding with Idrian? Do you detest that too? Should I divest him of your spirit as you divested me of mine?” As she spoke the words, Sauri saw herself striking him down, using her sword to slice Kasash from Idrian’s soul. She clenched sword hilt.

  “First Castelon ...” the words were soft, drawn out with grief and regret. For a moment, she saw the bright clarity of lapis lazuli. For an instant, Sauri recognized the young man she loved and admired as a son peek through the shadows of Kasash’s madness.

  “Trust.” His voice was fierce, eyes darkly shaded with gray. Demanding. Do what must be done. She could almost hear Idrian’s spirit call out for her aid.

  Can I trust him? A dagger lay sheathed at his side, his hand twisting its hilt tensely.

  No. Idrian had not been strong enough to live up to her trust. His promise. IdrianKasash had torn Laana from her soul because she had thought him able to resist the insanity. Never again. Fury at her own heart-wrenching betrayal waved through her. Poised for revenge, Sauri lunged forward.

  “Please—don’t let him succeed!” Her enemy’s cry struck chords of sadness in her heart, drawing her up short. Idrian’s eyes, free of shadows, begged not for his own life, but for her own salvation.

  IdrianKasash’s strike at her soul-bond had been an act of vengeance, not of salvation. It was what the Castelons stood against on the embattled borders of the Kambarna. Everything she stood against. By killing Idrian in the same evil way, she would be denying all Laana had desired. All they had lived for. “No,” she whispered.

  Looking down at the bow lying at her feet, Sauri estimated the seconds it would take to pick up and draw a silver arrow. She could not trust the sword in her hand not to strike a glancing blow. She’d never make it in time. Her hand pulled at her sword, cringing at the knowledge she could be damning all in the Kambarna if she failed.

  “No. War.” Gray wrapped Idrian’s pupils, threatening to overshadow her protégé at any moment. Agony lined his muscles to tension, twisting her heart. His hands clenched into fists at his side. Eyes firmly locked to hers, Idrian stepped forward.

  What if it’s a trick? Kasash allowing her to see her protégé—lulling her into a false sense of security? He had torn LaanaKendrisha from her soul!

  If not him, whom can I trust? The Spirit War must end. Here. If she attacked, it could be she who started the second Spirit War—her bringing about the end of her race.

  No. Only one could stop it, and it was not she. Trust.

  With a fluid motion, the First Castelon released her sword hilt and bent to grasp her bow from the cave floor. Reaching back for an arrow, ignoring the terror of failure and betrayal threatening to overwhelm, Sauri watched the hazy grayness of Kasash fight Idrian for survival. Drawing the silver arrow, her eyes met Idrian’s.

  Her protégé remained steady. Locked in offering. Pleading for one last chance to prove himself. Trust.

  Sauri relaxed her hand, releasing death. Watched it fly a dozen feet and take IdrianKasash through the chest. Dropping the bow, she crossed the cavern fast enough to catch his crumpling body and carry him softly to the ground.

  Breath wheezed in IdrianKasash’s lungs as she held him close. “No!” A mere whisper of denial. “Better they die—”

  “No, better they live,” She said, even as the gray faded from her protégé’s dying eyes. “The Kambarna will thrive and you will live again. You’ve saved the Kambarna—not only from Kasash, but from me.” A bitter acknowledgment of her own temptation.

  “Safe.” The words were less than a sigh.

  Tears tumbled down her cheeks, dripping down on his hair and face—a face returned once more to innocence in the safe security of death. “Yours was the last hand, Castelon.” Sauri said softly, offering him the Castelon’s salute—fingers curled in a circle over her heart. “Peaceful rest, until your spirit’s life.”

  Lapis lazuli eyes brimmed with light and hope. A soft smile curled his lips. Then the darkness of the in-between took him gently into its embrace.

  The binding chamber had been dug out of ancient rock in the heart of the Kambarna domain, where veins of untouched soul-silver shrouded those within its influence under a mantle of security and protection. Here, generations of the Kambarna had undertaken the soul-binding ceremony, linking them into the past and future of the domain. Here, hundreds of hapless youths bound to KasashDanitai’s victims had undergone the cleansing rites and been granted the promise of the untainted return of their spirits.

  Here I will die, SauriLaana thought.

  A gray-garbed priest of the Kambarna waited a few steps away, back toward her, granting Sauri a few moments of final reflection. Her Second stood behind the priest, his face pale with shock and uncertainty, hands maintaining a fierce grip on the Castelon bow she had granted him upon her return with Idrian’s body. Tears still tracking down her cheeks, Sauri had laid Idrian’s body on the soft grass outside of the entry to their cliff home, then turned to face half of her Castelons, brought outside by a sentry’s warning.

  “IdrianKasash is dead,” Sauri had told her Second, who had stood at the head of the waiting company. “And my soul seeks a safe return.”

  His eyes had widened in shock at her ritualistic words, words announcing her intention to complete the cleansing rites. But none knew duty like a Castelon, and her Second had offered the proper response. “Should you will it, I would guard your passage.”

  After the priest gave Sauri the potion that would free her soul into the chamber’s safekeeping, as once it had been freed to undergo the bonding with LaanaKendrisha, her Second would carry out his duty to her one last time—bringing an end to the first life of SauriLaana. In the moment of first death, Sauri’s spirit would pass through the silver lining of the bonding chamber and be healed of the grievous injury her shattered soul-bond had inflicted. Cleansed, she would be given the opportunity to complete the circle representing the Kambarna, returning to offer counsel to a future generation.

  But her final thoughts did not tarry on death or what might come after. Instead, Sauri reveled in the memories of her moments of freedom at the edge of the Kambarna domain, sharing in the companionship of a bonded spirit she missed most dearly and a young man wanting desperately to learn the honor of the Castelons. And he had. Oh, he had.

  ::The Spirit War is ended:: SauriLaana, First Castelon of the Kambarna, whispered in a voice only spirit could hear.

  WAR GAMES

  by Lisanne Norman

  Born in Glasgow, Scotland, Lisanne Norman started writing at the age of eight in order to find more of the books she liked to read. In 1980, two years after joining The Vikings!, the largest British reenactment society in Britain, she moved to Norfolk, England. There she ran her own specialist archery display team. Now living in America and a full-time author, in her Sholan Alliance Series she has created worlds where warriors, magic. and science coexist. Her latest novel in the series is Shades of Gray, available from DAW.

  Hope City Hall, parking lot

  The scream echoed through her helmet’s comm-set, grating inside the bones of her head. She wished whoever it was would stop and let her think. Then the blast hit her square in the chest and plucked her from her feet, flinging her across the parking lot. She caromed off the pillar and came to a sudden stop against the wall. The screaming stopped.

  She lay staring blankly up at the roof of the parking lot, her world contracted to the burning pain in her chest and leg.

  “Captain down!” Tyler must have picked her tell-tale up on his HUD feed.

  Columbia City Military Museum

  “Slade, you’re late.” Reichart’s disapproving tone pulled her from her reverie.

  She blinked, images of the parking lot dissipating before the innocuous brass plaque on the Mars memorial. The memories lingered.

  “I said, you’re late. The first group has
already arrived. Your team is waiting.”

  “Far too late. We all were.” She touched the plaque.

  “Is she all right?” demanded Reichart.

  “Captain’s fine,” she heard Jones say as a powered glove closed on her unarmored forearm. “Aren’t you, Captain?”

  Mentally she shook herself.

  “I believe you said the first group had already arrived, Reichart,” she said crisply. “We’ve work to do, even if you don’t. Jones, let’s move it.”

  “Just see you play your part, Slade,” Reichart called out. “Otherwise I’ll be reporting you to Commander Sandler!”

  “Play my part,” she snarled under her breath as she increased her pace.

  “Captain,” said Jones, trying to catch up. “Captain, wait!”

  As she reached for the doorknob, Jones’ armored forearm barred her entrance.

  “Don’t go in there yet, Captain.” He met her angry glare with his patient one. “He was trying to rile you. Give yourself a moment. He won’t report us. It would mean a full inquiry and put the military in an even worse light.”

  She let her arm fall, breathing deeply. “He succeeded.” She pushed Jones’ now relaxed arm aside. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Hope City Hall

  “Teams Red, Blue, Green, and Amber, target your designated force field generators and take them out. When the field is down, the main assault, units Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta, will be dropped at your locations. Teams, regroup with your assigned unit, and surround the Government Center. The four teams, under Captain Rice of Red, will then retake the building, without endangering the hostage, leaving the main forces for support and mop-up.”