A War Dawning Ch. 07

She rose enough to hug herself as she shook. Deres, hand on her shoulder, tried to lend her strength. "None of it was your fault."

The sobbing had stopped, but her voice quivered. "How many?" She inhaled sharply, fighting another whimper. "How many on the island that I destroyed?

Deres sighed. "It was a small fishing port. I don't know for certain, but probably in the hundreds. No more than two thousand."

It was almost unfathomable to a woman who'd never even contemplated hurting another in her life. "Two thousand people. I killed them."

"It wasn't you," he repeated. "We aren't like that. He had to change you, and even then he had to put the lives of your entire people in front of you to get you to be a person that could."

"I understand how you feel more than you know," Bryana said, "but we don't have time for this. It will be the island a thousand fold if you don't stop this now."

"I'm not sure I can," Lystra said, ignoring the pain in her wrists and ankles as she braced herself on the wall as Deres aided her, severing the leather that bound her her eyes moving left to right as they gazed at the floor while she thought. "I'm not sure I can."

She hustled to the terminal and began typing furiously, waiting for the response, and then typing furiously again. "I...he wanted me to slave it to a control that only he commanded. Once I knew how these things worked it wasn't that hard." She fought her heartbreak again.

"Just take that control back," Elan said as if it were an order.

"He'll know if I try, and he could act before I could. Who knows how many he could kill."

"What if we destroy this place?"

Lystra answered Bryana without looking at her."The satellite already accepts Mareth's control as primary; it wouldn't matter."

Deres retrieved his communication crystal. "Adar is waiting to help if it can. This thing threatens them as much as everyone else."

Lystra shrugged off the suggestion, "It took me years to even get this far and I don't fully comprehend it all. If this thing had been more complicated than point and shoot it would be years more before I could make it work, and still maybe never."

"It can keep doing what it was designed to do, it doesn't matter. We just need to know where it is. Can you tell me exactly where it is above us? If you can, the mages can do the rest."

***

The sound of metal on metal cracked through the air like small explosions as Neral and D'ravek traded blades. Troops from both sides had gotten closer to the piece of field the two had claimed so that they could witness it and encourage their generals, though neither noticed. To them it was simply white noise. All that mattered was the next thrust, parry, or dodge and measuring their next steps in the soft ground.

D'ravek was relentless and struck with all the force she had expected and had the reflexes she expected as well. She was faster, but her arms were numbing from blocking the blows. They had been able to nick one another, but no one got close to a killing blow yet."

"Tired, girl? Drop to your knees and I promise that it will be done in one quick strike."

"Is that how you and your king lead people," she asked over the clang of a parry, "they all just laid down and obeyed or died for you? Erette has sturdier stock."

Without a response, he hammered his blade down over her head, charging his bulk forward a step to plant his fist hard into her face. Dazed, she staggered backward by two steps, the mud giving way just a bit more than she expected sending her onto the ground on her back, upending the world.

Raise. Your. Sword. She heard her old instructor and commander, the late Devine Kress in her mind as though she were there screaming in her ear as was normal in Neral's days as a young recruit. Listening to that voice saved her life as the blades crashed together again, Neral having to use both hands on the hilt to absorb the force. Even so, her own blade nearly touched her nose.

Instinct put both of her boots where his knee should be and she felt it give enough under the force that it was his turn to stagger, giving her enough time to roll away and back up, stance wide. Her body protested. She knew he could win through attrition alone. He had greater strength and probably stamina to match, but she was perhaps better skilled at defense. Her soldiers had laughed at D'ravek, their fear being expelled in a wave of relief as Neral extricated herself from her near-death experience. She knew that he could wait her out for that last critical mistake.

His eyes darted to them for the merest fraction of a second and his full cheeks tightened as he clenched his jaw.

Kress was in her ear again. If your enemy gives you no opportunity on their own, nudge them along.

They parried one another again, this time his arm was just a little high. Rather than trying to sweep under to try to cleave neck from shoulder which he would have probably adjusted for quickly enough to meet and she was unsure she had the momentum to carry through on anyway, she turned her blade flat and touched his shoulder with it, the coup paired with a broad, flirty smile. Her beauty undiminished by mud and blood, as many of the male troops with her, certainly those that could see, saw that beauty mixed with strength and she knew that appealed to them. She knew a few fantasized, and so what? If that made them a little louder now, so much the better.

They cheered her as he stepped back quickly even before fully registering that it was just a tap and her mocking tone was a screech in his ear. "Some reason I'm not dead yet, bitch?"

He took a full breath, held it and released it, spinning his sword and shifting his weight left and right to dig himself into the mud. Neral took the opportunity to quickly shake the fatigue out of each arm in turn. D'ravek gave a quick, fake grin before his face became stone, "Why in such a rush to die, bitch?

"Just wondering what the problem is. Could it be that you're not used to people that fight back? All your job is is burning out protesters and people that don't have Mareth's tax money, no?"

The Draleth booed, hissed, and shouted epithets to drown her out, but all she cared about were his eyes and the twitch of his body and his limbs. "That's an idea." A new round of parries and thrusts began. He faked left, and, when she moved to counter, he lunged right she ducked, hearing and feeling the blade slice the air over her head.

She came up as she asked, "Ever had a woman of Erette, General?" Ever had a powerful woman who knows what she's about, knows what she wants, and has a pussy that can milk a man like no other?"

The men and women of Erette cheered the truth as D'ravek struck again. "Since you so highly recommend them perhaps I'll try your queen," he offered, feinting a lunge. Neral's instinct suspected it would be a bluff so she jerked backward without giving up position.

She loosened her stance. Inwardly she was keeping her body loose to be able to call on her speed at an instant's notice. Outwardly, with her also casually hefting her sword, it appeared that she had simply stopped caring. "If you do, I pray you have the decency to have the blacksmiths create a harness and some pulleys before you try lowering that bulk onto any woman."

The men and women of Erette roared again, for a moment drowning out the hisses of disdain from the Draleth.

"What are you playing at, General?"

"I've fought you," she began, wiping blood from her nose and lips that was only now beginning to cake. "I have come to the conclusion that, much like your kingdom, while you should be guarded against like one guards against any vermin, you really aren't a threat to me, much less Erette, so come on."

He snorted as he circled her. She appeared open, but he knew that was a fraud. "You seem pretty winded and bruised for going up against vermin. Perhaps you aren't the warrior you think you are?"

The Draleth cheered.

"I admit I was trying too hard." The reality now was that she was saving what she had left in the hopes that her goading would work him into a mistake. "You really aren't worth the effort. The Draleth aren't worth the effort. That you exist at all is because the rest of the world simply doesn't care enough to crush you."

He lunged again, this time not as a feint, in a low sweep aimed at opening her belly. It took both hands driving her sword with a cry of strain for her as her joints threatened to give way. She deflected the sweep enough to give her a second to close the gap. Giving a feint of her own simply by tensing her right shoulder, his eyes went to that just enough so that he could not react with more than shock when her lips met his. Once she saw his eyes reflect the passage from shock to anger and focus again on the source of it, she pushed away with a laugh. "Yeah. This is getting fun."

"Fun for you to kiss vermin?"

She shrugged. "You're a fucking joke is all, General. You fight against people that can't fight back. Your own men see how well you can do against someone who knows how to hold a sword."

"She's just toying with you, idiot," Mareth snarled, his patience nearing its end after the fight lasted more than a minute, much less now. "Finish the bitch and be done with it."

"Yeah, bitch," Neral said to the sounds of shock from her own people as she sheathed her sword behind her back and drew her dagger given to her by her mother the day she graduated war college. It was simple, sturdy, practical, and had saved her life more than once. She flipped it from one hand to the next, making a show of how she could make it dance for her. This was a show as much as anything else at the moment. She needed to drive her people and the Draleth because they would both push him like she could not.

Moving away from him, she acknowledged that she needed it too for her own reasons. Knowing her people were near, seeing her queen from the corner of her eye looking on in both curiosity and satisfaction renewed her. War was a dance. A partner moved and you countered. Indeed, dance in her youth helped her now. It fostered coordination, strength, tone, and flexibility. It had also fed her ego in her young, impetuous days when she sought to impress.

Her moves then all had flourish and she had embraced acrobatics to dazzle her opponent and push her superiors to take note of her for reasons other than her name. That had lasted all of half an hour before her second sparring partner had sussed her out and throttled her ass to the floor. Since then, to her benefit, she had abandoned flourish for technique, though she had never given up dance and the movement. Still, she wasn't sure how it might work out, but all she had to do was be faster than he was once.

Pushing into the mud enough so that she touched firmer ground, she pushed off, running towards him in ground-eating strides, needing to gauge her next movements based on his final body position. He stood, body open to whatever attack she would try looking like he was ready to give Neral a deadly embrace.

Neral leaped.

High enough to just miss the sword strike as her boot landed on his forearm, forcing his sword downward. Using him as a step in the instant before his arm could take her off balance she vaulted again, taking herself over his head and behind him. She turned, letting her dagger speak for her and it cut cleanly as she darted away to gasps from both sides of the battle.

D'ravek turned like a whirlwind to find her several paces away, winded but smiling. All of Erette that was with her erupted in laughter as he turned to see her breath still ragged with a wad of his once long hair in her hand. She did a pirouette before opening her hand wide, letting the hair fall to a clump on the mud with some flying randomly during the fall and more being taken by the wind as it lay in the mud. "Heed your king, bitch. Finish me, because I am bored of you, tired you and your piddly army playing war, and I simply wish to go home."

He grabbed at where his hair used to be simply as a reflex to confirm the evidence offered by his eyes. His blood boiled and his face twisted as she drew her sword once again. "Perhaps fighting is the only thing you do slowly?" When he looked upon her quizzically, she opined, "Do we compensate on the field, General? Are we quick elsewhere? One thrust into a woman after she counts her gold? Two? Or can you make it for at least as many moments as you have fingers and toes?"

His face twisted as he contemplated hacking her to bits once the surprise passed at the few hushed titters of laughter from those he could neither see nor name, but he knew came from the Draleth.

"I suppose I shouldn't mock you," sword in both hands, closing the distance by half steps. "All people are different. Perhaps that passes for 'good' in your circles. The women of Erette expect better from their men and their men provide it. You're just a thug from Draleth."

D'ravek rattled the sky with his scream of frustration and charged like the bull he appeared to be and she charged in kind and matched his shriek, mainly because her plan to head directly for his sword arm required courage, or at least more instinct than rational thought. Neral raised her sword high and he did the same. Merest glances told her where their bodies were and she sent the tip of her sword towards him before he could close the gap on his target.

She jerked her body down and right after her blade tip touched him. The shock sent his massive arm back towards her and the pommel of his blade struck the back of her head. She reeled away sliding through the snow and wet earth, enjoying not only the weightlessness, but the momentary unconsciousness. In those seconds she was free of fear or care.

Both sides gasped again and Neral forced her eyes open at the sound, expecting to find her lower half several feet from her upper. Weaponless, she moved her body rather than her head to see what was coming. If she failed and it was death coming for her in the form of a Draleth general, she would damn well stare that down, too.

She saw him standing there looking pleased with himself for a moment before realizing that his king and his soldiers were not basking in the moment with him. It took a moment more for him to realize how much the fight had truly taken out of him. Rage spent, he was growing tired.

A moment more and he noticed the small but gushing wound under his arm as arterial blood flowed freely. She watched as he dropped to his knees. She watched as he grinned at her. "Well done, General Bitch." She watched as he slammed face first to the muddy ground. She watched him die.

She owed him that much.

Her limbs having the solidity of wet pasta, she forced herself up, almost falling back once before she felt herself steady enough to put fist to her heart in his direction as a salute to one warrior from another. He had faced her in single combat for his king and home and had fought fairly. She felt she owed him that, too. And let the soldiers of the Draleth see it.

She looked to her left and up to see that, to Tanik she had simply met expectations. Nelina looked upon her with young, prideful eyes that seemed as though they were looking upon the Goddess Herself. Evaline herself wore some of that pride. Chin raised, she looked every bit the queen, corners of her mouth up just the tiniest bit. She paid respect to her General. So Neral did the same, beaten and bloodied, by saluting smartly before stepping carefully to her sword, having to put one foot consciously before the other.

As she walked Evaline spoke with every bit of majesty she could muster to her counterpart. "It seems that the Goddess does not favor you today, Mareth. Her will has been made known. As I would have kept my word, I demand the same. You will be allowed to leave our lands in peace, but you must leave."

He laughed at her and it was a disgusted, bitter cackle. "You were never going to keep your word. You would never have surrendered to me, so the little bargain has no meaning. We both know it was just a diversion to buy time and for you to pretend to be queen for a moment or two more."

He caressed his gauntlet. But we all know that I am the one with the power. The Draleth were chosen. I was chosen. I will rule and the world will yield, or it will burn. You'll be an example, Evaline. What's left of Erette and you will be an example to all others who oppose me as I lead the Draleth to the place of prominence we have been too long denied."

His mount took two him steps forward at his urging. "You will see the power I hold. You will all see. You will still kneel before me, Queen of Erette. The only difference is that Erette will be a bit smaller than it was at dawn.

He didn't understand the text, but he didn't need to. The machine was agreeable and his "daughter" had been more than helpful in marking the red dots on the small map with numbers that denoted the positions of various cities. The line showing available power arced upward to what he assumed was maximum, and a red bar flashed.

He pressed it.

Neral, in that instant, wanted to cry. Her immediate family was clear for the moment. All the families of Court were clear at the moment. She was going to kill the piece of shit before her that masqueraded as a king and ruler. She was going to kill him and hack that machine off his arm and to bits almost regardless of the consequence and she'd take her men as far as they could go. Erette as a kingdom would survive.

But many would not and her eyes burned for them.

She looked to the sky, waiting to see the fire blaze over the horizon. Instead, she wept with joy, the trails of tears from her brown eyes doing what little they could to clean her bloody, muddy face as she watched fire streak, not over the horizon, but across the sky like a comet to be seen in broad daylight. Gasps of shock and awe came from everyone, save the queen, Tanik, and those of Neral's number that had seen it. The queen and Tanik would not let dignity falter, even for this.

Mareth looked down at his gauntlet knowing what he would see before he saw it. The numbered dot that was Erette was still there and the arcing line in the lower left corner was all but gone. It wouldn't fill quickly enough to make a difference even if he did have any clue what had gone wrong or how to fix it. The stream of fire eventually faded and the sky returned to its simple blue with patchwork clouds.

All assembled knew what he knew as he stared down Evaline, wilting as the color drained from his face.

"It seems that the Goddess is fickle today," Evaline told him with no small amount of wry glee. "perhaps because you broke your word, or perhaps she had nothing to do with it at all. In any event, there is only one response for what you have done." She took a deep breath, and paused to feel it and let it cleanse her soul. "General Neral Jaye, leader of the armed forces of Erette and defender of its people."

She wiped the tears away from her face while relief and anger burned the mist from her eyes before she stood straight and tall facing Evaline, seeing the gold she wore gleam anew. "Yes, my queen."

Evaline saw fear in Mareth's eyes and savored it. "Remove these invaders from our home and my sight by any means you see fit."

Neral savored her own anger and she turned, her dark eyes fixing themselves upon Mareth and, more specifically, his forearm, though she would take a rare amount of glee in parting off the rest of him.

"As my queen wills, so shall it be done."

To Be Continued...