by K T Munson
Tulya sensed the scout before she saw him. Peering up, she called him, “Gil.”
The scout dropped down from a tree next to them. He was a boy of perhaps thirteen with greasy hair that hung in strings around his eyes. He had an expression on his face that reminded her of a child receiving a gift. She imagined many of their people were awaiting her return, and would have similar looks when she told them it was time.
“Don’t do that!” Maris grumbled, spitting on the ground again.
“Are we going to kill them?” Gil asked, completely ignoring Maris.
“We are,” Tulya responded as they went the last hundred feet to the camp. “We are going to kill them all.”
Gil smiled and raced off, likely to tell the others. She watched him go before glancing at Maris. His gaze met hers steadily, but she sensed something beneath those eyes. Something was burrowing in her gut like a whisper of foreboding. Tulya lifted her head and entered the camp without giving him a second look.
When she passed by him, he whispered, “I know what you are.”
She turned back to him in surprise. For a moment, she was speechless. Gritting her teeth, she narrowed her gaze into a glare.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, thankful that the trees were thicker here, which kept the ash at bay.
He leaned forward and smelled her head. She shifted away from him but didn’t step back. A breath away from her ear, he whispered, “You have magic on you.”
Carefully, she smirked and laughed at him. He shifted back but didn’t join in. Tulya felt a cold sweat break out on her body as she put her hands around her stomach, as though he had told some great joke.
“Perhaps you smell the magic user I slept with to get the information that Queen Vesna was sending troops to get your people,” Tulya replied with a shrug. “I’ll likely be covered with his stench for a while.”
He grunted as she left him there. It did her no good to try to make further excuses. Despite her calm façade, she worried her lie hadn’t worked. Fortunately, it wasn’t really a lie. She actually had slept with a magic user to gain the information.
When she emerged in the clearing, Maris wasn’t following her, and below, her people were already starting to gather. The ash left a thin layer over everything like dust. In some places, it had been swept up and piled out of the way. Glancing toward The Wall, Tulya wondered how much further inland the ash went.
“Ready yourself,” Tulya called, which quieted the crowd that was gathering with every word. “The Fire Nation’s most powerful magic users are coming. They are going toward Hurra to seek refuge. It is a four-day walk, and we are going to head them off and cripple them while they are weak. Burn them with the fire they so love, and the Frost Nation magic users who are with them!”
The people below shouted, “To Hurra!”
“First Hurra,” Tulya yelled, pulling a dagger from her hip and pointing it in the air, “and then Axion will fall!”
The forest erupted in joyful shouts. War was coming to the Frost Nation, and they would be victorious against the magic users. She let her arm fall to her side again as an aching pleasure filled her chest. The idea of finally overthrowing the magic users, and taking their place, excited her.
She sensed a movement to her left, and turned her lust-filled eyes toward the woods. Maris was watching her, and she knew he sensed her desire. The man could smell anything and everything, so she didn’t try to hide it. Instead, she put the dagger back in its sheath and went to her tent. When she entered, he followed her in.
She turned back to yell at him, but he crushed his mouth against hers and lifted her up. Her bottom landed on the small makeshift desk she had put together. Things clattered to the ground, but she hardly heard them as she framed his face with her hands.
After a moment, she pushed at his chest and insisted, “You’re being reckless and foolish.”
“You’ve wanted this,” he whispered, tugging her closer.
She smiled wickedly because he was right, but reason barely won out. Her voice was thick with desire as she spoke. “If anyone reports us to Ekil, he will know you’re working with me. That you’ve joined me.”
“It isn’t betrayal, because now we’re working together,” Maris insisted before nibbling at her throat.
“I have a feeling Ekil won’t see it that way,” Tulya whispered softly as he continued down her neck. She looked toward the ceiling of her tent and rested her hand on the back of his neck. They risked much by being together as they were.
“He’d have to figure it out first, and Ekil is blind,” Maris insisted against her skin.
Tulya pushed him off her, “But he isn’t stupid,” she said in a voice that was soft and verged on deadly. “He is brutal and harsh, and I won’t give him a reason to suspect us. Now get out.”
He frowned but took a step back, putting his hands up signifying surrender. Tulya slipped off the desk and landed on her feet. “After Hurra,” Maris said, “we won’t need Ekil anymore.” Before Tulya could answer him, he left her tent.
She watched the flap swing back and forth until it finally stilled. Maris was right. If they were successful at Hurra, they wouldn’t need Ekil anymore. She couldn’t keep the smile from her lips at the thought. If they crippled the magic users, they could take Axion. The thought warmed her more than she could say, and she walked out into the chaos of a camp preparing for war.
Fire: Chapter Twenty-Four
As they neared the southern shore, Coor pulled the scarf down from his face and drew in a long heavy breath. Ash still fell around him, but it was small and scattered, allowing the first draw of clean air into his lungs in nearly a week since the eruption.
He glanced at his sister sitting closer to the front of the boat. She lowered the scarf from her face and took a deep breath, too. Coor had never seen his sister so filthy. Her exceptionally long, golden, honey-blonde hair had no luster. It was hidden under caked-on grime and soot and ash. Her entire appearance was one mute, dull, grayish brown color. Coor knew he didn’t look any better. The fact that the royalty of the Fire Nation looked like mine workers was a little humorous, and Coor managed a small smirk, but the weight of all that they had lost kept it from lingering.
He and Darha had taken the very last boats across the River Gora. Cas was commanding their boat and he had been an absolute soldier. It had taken four days of nonstop, six-hour trips back and forth across the river to evacuate everyone from the Fire Nation. The Frost Nation rowers and soldiers had taken shifts to make sure the boats didn’t stop running, but Cas accompanied every single trip, sleeping in the boat on the way back to retrieve more Fire Nation evacuees.
It was quiet as Cas came to crouch in the space between the two siblings. “Hurra is outside The Wall, so you will have the heat of the day to stay warm. Though with the crack in our wall getting bigger”—he sighed sadly— “you could likely survive just as well behind The Wall these days.”
Darha turned to the southern native, giving him her full attention. “Are your people suffering badly?”
Cas shook his head. “It’s not going well.”
Coor heard something unsettling in Cas’s voice and could tell, from her expression, that Darha did, too. “Is Queen Vesna well?” she asked. She reached for the Frost Nation soldier’s hand in a gesture of comfort, but quickly retracted it before making contact—before they could burn each other.
Cas met Darha’s eyes. “Another quake hit about the time your volcano erupted. Our palace was destroyed with Queen Vesna and Lady Aradel trapped inside.”
“No,” Darha gasped.
“Can we help?” Coor found himself asking. “Our magic users can melt the ice if necessary.”
Cas gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you, but we were able to retrieve them,” he sighed. “Queen Vesna, however, was terribly injured.”
Coor saw Darha’s hand flutter up to her chest. “She isn’t going to…” Darha asked, unable to finish the sentence.
Cas�
�s response was a sigh and low bow of his head, as though the words could not be spoken aloud.
Coor watched terror erupt in his little sister’s eyes as she turned to gaze out over the river. Concerned, Coor stood in a crouch and shifted his position to move closer to the front of the boat so he was across from her. “What is it?”
Darha met his eyes as she fiddled with the scarf at her throat. “I just…” She glanced away. “I trust Queen Vesna. I like her. She’s helped us abundantly at every single turn without criticism, complaint or hatred. If she dies…” Darha swallowed heavily. Coor reached across and rested his hand on top of hers. “A new Queen will take her place. One who may be less inclined to be so kind and helpful toward our people.”
Coor felt himself deflate. He ran his hand through his dusty, filthy hair. “I see.”
Darha pressed her lips together in a thin line of worry, and an unsettling quiet fell over the boat. It was in this moment of silence that Coor heard the sounds. He snapped his head in the direction of the shore. The noise instantly drew Cas’s attention too, and both men got to their feet and stared to the south. Coor knew those sounds. He’d been acquainted with them since he was six years old; they were the sounds of battle.
Coor felt his mental and emotional gears shift into soldier mode. He wanted to holler at the Frost Nation rowers to go faster, but it wasn’t his place to order the Frost Nation to do anything. He had to tread carefully here; he wasn’t home.
“Rowers! Double time!” Cas suddenly commanded, sparing Coor the turmoil of needing to move, but not being able to say anything. The Frost Nations rowers sped up so much that the breeze lifted Coor’s hair off his forehead.
He looked at Cas. “Thank you.”
Cas glanced at him and nodded. “You are under our Queen’s protection. This should not be happening. Whatever it may be, it’s our problem, too.”
Every minute he had to stand there, listening, and unable to do anything, was excruciating. Hidden by distance and the thick mist, the shore wasn’t in sight yet, but he could hear everything, just like he’d been able to on that day. They had come into his home then, the magic-haters.
He’d been six years old when his mother had shoved his infant sister into his arms and pushed them both into a nearby closet to hide them. Coor remembered crying. Not for himself, but because if his baby sister started crying, they would hear her and he wouldn’t be able to protect her. As the moments ticked by and Darha just looked around, calm and alert, Coor had calmed himself down. It was as if Darha, even as an infant, had known something was wrong and that she’d needed to be quiet for him.
He’d heard the same battle sounds then, the clash of metal on metal, the stomping and running feet, but mostly the screams. The screams seemed to come through the door as if Coor was in an open arena. All of them sounded different. Some were high pitched, some were strangled, some gurgled with liquid, and others sounded like a deep moan. Some were a mix of all of these. All of them were composed of agony, anger, and fear.
Coor crouched in front of Darha now, resting his hands on both sides of her head. “When we reach the shore, stay welded to my side until soldiers arrive to escort you to safety. Do you understand me?” Darha nodded without a word. Coor firmly kissed her forehead and then stood and faced Cas. “Is there a place my sister can be safely escorted to?”
Cas’s eyes were fierce and battle ready, which comforted Coor’s soul. “There is a guard tower west of the town. It was just recently made a border guard to protect both our nations from each other’s hostile attacks. There will be Frost Nation soldiers there to protect her.”
“Will they allow my soldiers to accompany her without quarrel?”
“Yes. They maintain peace. It’s what they were assigned to the towers for.”
“General!” he heard called from one of the other boats. Rhett, one of his captains, stood with his hands cupped over his mouth. “Your orders, sir?”
“Prepare for battle,” Coor hollered.
The command carried over the entire river until every soldier who had come across with this last lot of evacuees was armed. Most of Coor’s soldiers had already crossed, for which he was thankful because they would be protecting the civilians who had also crossed, most of whom were women and children.
“Rhett!” Coor hollered.
“General.”
“I want your unit to escort the Queen to safety. The Frost Nation commander, Cas, will have a location for you when we reach the shore.”
“Understood.”
“Soldiers!” Cas suddenly bellowed over the river in a booming voice Coor didn’t expect from the soft, gentle looking southerner. “The Fire Nation is under the protection of our Queen. You will answer to Prince Coor and me for the duration of the battle. Whoever has attacked them, has defied our Queen, thus shall be considered traitors to the Frost Nation. Is that understood?”
“Aye, Commander!” The Frost Nation soldiers all said in unison.
The deep, rugged, and professional sound of it went into Coor’s ears and settled down into his chest, warming and calming him. As the seconds dragged on, however, the boat quickly started to become a cage. Coor had to resist the urge to pace back and forth, lest he frighten his sister. He had to force his breathing to calm as the screams continued to reach his ears. Those were his people over there, dying! Their screams were reaching him, but he could not reach them! It took everything he had not to dive into the river. It was warm enough that he would likely survive.
Wait, he had to convince himself, wait.
The River Gora started to become cluttered with heavy debris. Coor watched as they passed even the tops of pine trees, as if they were sailing over the canopy of a forest. The Frost Nation rowers maneuvered the boats with impressive skill, not even slowing down as they avoided colliding with the debris. The flooding, Coor could see, had pushed the shoreline far back, as had happened at home, though the Frost Nation had more level and low-lying ground near the River Gora. Nearly half of the ground between the River Gora and the Frost Nation’s wall was underwater.
Finally, the mist cleared enough that Coor could see the silhouettes of farmhouses, tents, and people, and he immediately began analyzing the situation. The Fire Nation soldiers had clearly been in formation, but the enemy had already managed to penetrate their center. They were split down the middle; half were up against the Frost Nation wall with the other half up against the River Gora. The enemy’s main attack was concentrated in the center of the gap and was widening with every second.
Cas approached Coor. “We can envelop both their flanks from this position if we adjust the course of the boats—half to the west and half to the east.”
Coor scanned the river at the boats. That strategy was risky enough with a large number of soldiers that Coor knew and trusted. If he had his whole force with him, he wouldn’t hesitate with that tactic. As it was, most people in the boats were civilians. The only formidable force he had with him was Frost Nation soldiers, most of who were rowing. But he didn’t know how the Frost Nation dealt with battle, and he couldn’t risk that kind of maneuver with them on a first run. He had to admire Cas’s bravery for suggesting it, though. It showed more trust than Coor was willing to put forth yet.
“No,” Coor said without meeting the southern native’s eyes. “We’ll attack the west flank with the full force we have in the boats. If we can back them up enough, the ocean will be behind them in the east, the river to the north, and your ice wall to the south. We will box them in.”
Coor could practically recite the concern Cas voiced next, since it would be apparent to any soldier. “What if they have reserves in the west?” he said. “We would be boxed in with enemy forces on our east and west fronts and the river to the north and The Wall to the south.”
Coor sighed softly through his nose. “We’ll deal with it if that becomes the case. We don’t have enough soldiers in the boats to envelope their flanks.”
Cas pressed his lips together when Coor
shifted his eyes to his face. “Very well.”
Coor felt a pang of guilt hit him in the chest as Cas sent the command over the river to the other boats and the boats adjusted course to the west. Cas knew Coor didn’t fully trust him now. He shouldn’t feel bad about that, but he did.
“I’m sorry,” Coor ended up saying. Cas faced him. “It’s just too soon.” Coor didn’t need to explain further. It was too soon to trust the Frost Nation, especially when his people’s lives, women and children mostly, were at stake.
Cas’s eyes softened slightly and he nodded. “I understand.”
Coor smiled appreciatively though weakly and glanced back to the south. His heart started racing as the shoreline approached, and he drew the bow from his back. He thought about his wife, off somewhere on the ocean far to the west. He gathered a mental picture of Thea, looking back at him over her shoulder the day she left, and held that image of her until it burned like embers in his chest. She was the reason to survive. She was the reason he would live through this battle—to see her again, to hold her again. Death came for all men eventually, but Coor refused to let it pay him a visit today.
“Not yet,” he said softly to himself, like he did before every battle. He pulled an arrow out from the quiver behind him. “Not yet.” He loaded the bow, taking aim.
As they were about to touch the shore, Coor drew the string to his cheek. “Fire!” He and the other hundred and fifty rangers in the boats, a mix of both Fire and Frost natives, let loose their arrows.
A small pile of enemies went down as the arrows hit their targets. It was a tiny impact on the overall battle, but enough to draw the enemy’s attention to the fleet of boats. Coor pulled another arrow out as his boat touched the shore. “Fire!” he yelled. Coor and the rangers fired again. “Fire!” he called once more as he waited for Rhett’s unit to get ashore. Just as the enemy started to regroup to try to deal with the new threat, Rhett’s company was in front of him. “Fire at will!” Coor called before he put an arm around Darha’s back and guided her to the side of the boat to disembark. Rhett took hold of her, helping her down.
