by Kate Sander
She caught up with them around five minutes later, they were still trudging and had only gone a half mile from where she left them.
“Run,” she signed quickly to Jules, “We are being followed by a lot of well-trained men. Our only hope is to make the trees before they catch up with us. Run for your lives.” She sprinted away, leaving the men behind her.
“Run!” Jules yelled to Vigo, and they scurried after her. She was so fast that she quickly outpaced them.
“She’s just leaving us here to die,” Vigo gasped as he ran. Senka would be making the trees soon. They were still a good mile away. The plains rose gently upwards to meet the trees. It would be a hard sprint to the end.
Jules was too busy gasping to answer. His lungs were burning. Behind them, he heard a yell. They were spotted. They tried to increase their pace, but were running as hard as they could. Senka had made the trees. With a sinking heart, Jules was sure that it would be the last they saw of her.
Senka reached the trees and looked back. The guys were too slow, they wouldn’t make it. The troop of men crested the hill behind them. Looking around frantically, she found a tree to her liking. It had a large trunk with branches high up where she could perch and get a good view of the slaughter.
She was going to enjoy this.
Jules ran hard, trying to drag the slower Vigo. He wouldn’t leave him to die alone. Call him a lot of names, but coward wasn’t one of them. Jules didn’t want to look behind. His entire focus was on the tree line. At least there they could find a place to hunker down and fight. In the open plains they were as good as dead. An arrow landed in front of him. The men pursuing were close enough to shoot. He looked at the trees and thought he saw a figure sitting in a tall tree watching them. He realized quickly that Senka was going to watch them die.
Senka sat in her perch and counted the men pursuing Vigo and Jules. Thirty. Five had stopped to shoot arrows, but they had terrible aim and had yet to come close to hitting the guy. Taking her own bow off her shoulder, she picked out an arrow, feeling its weight. Twenty arrows in the quiver, she needed to make them count. She drew back, aimed, breathed, and let loose.
Jules was starting to tire. They still had a hundred feet to the trees. Vigo was a few feet behind him and losing ground. He could hear their chasers on either side. A woman, dressed in all black, was catching up to him. From the corner of his eye, he saw her draw her daggers. In only a few steps, she’d be on him. And he’d be done for.
He didn’t know whether to turn and fight or keep running. She leapt and he turned, trying to get his sword up in time to block.
With a gurgle, the woman dropped like a stone, an arrow sticking out of her neck. Looking around wildly, he saw Senka in her tree, bow drawn.
Senka watched the woman drop with a smug smile. She drew another arrow and picked off a man closing in on Vigo. It was so close to Vigo’s ear he would have heard the whistle. She got into a rhythm: draw, exhale, release, draw. And she didn’t miss. By the time she ran out of arrows, twenty of the troops lay dead. She had opened up some space for Vigo and Jules to be able to make the trees.
“Draw them in. Find a place to defend,” she signed to Jules when he was close enough to see her. A quick nod was his answer and he pulled Vigo so they ran into the woods directly under her tree. She had a minute before the five others got to the trees. The five who had stopped to shoot were around three minutes behind them. She would have to work fast.
The men stopped before the treeline and waited for the archers. Damn, Senka thought. She had been hoping to drop behind them when they ran blindly into the trees and take them out, one by one. These men were too well trained to fall for that. They knew someone was in the trees. She was going to have to do this the hard way.
She crouched on the massive limb and listened.
“No, orders are to kill all three. No one survives. We’ll wait and go in together, Alpha formation. Power up.”
They put on their gloves and powered up their Pulse weapons. Her daggers wouldn’t be able to block those weapons. The electric current would run through the blade, down the hilt and into her hand if they touched. The current would be much stronger than the Pulse sticks in the prison, and even it passing through her hand would paralyze or kill her. An Exalted troop was a pain in the ass.
She had lost track of Vigo and Jules. She hoped they had found a place where they could put their backs against and defend. At some point she may need their help.
More importantly, she wanted to kill the traitor herself. Unless the Queen had been discovered and tortured, there could be no way they knew there was three of them. She highly doubted that the Queen would have been caught that quickly, let alone crack that early under torture.
There was a rat among them.
And Senka hated a rat.
She crouched and watched the troops fire up the weapons. Most had the same style of sword, a couple preferred hammers. One giant of a woman had the biggest hammer she had ever seen.
This really wouldn’t be easy.
If you die, take as many as you can with you.
The troops entered the trees, clustered close together. Senka snuck down behind them. One thing on her side was that they weren’t in their normal heavy armour. They were dressed light so they could move fast, meaning that Senka wouldn’t have to be so precise with her attacks. The downfall being that they would move faster as well. She needed to take as many down as she could without them knowing what was happening. The element of surprise was her best weapon, and she had to use it for as long as she could.
Senka tiptoed behind them. They were moving slowly, careful of their steps, trying to cover all angles. Biding her time, Senka kept hidden in the trees, trying to come up with a plan.
She needed them to split up.
A rudimentary plan surfaced. Not great, but all she had at the moment and was worth a shot.
She dropped off and swept to the side, flanking the group. Moving just within their vision, she waited patiently.
“One to the right,” an Exalted called. All the soldiers stopped and shifted their stances, heading in her direction.
Quickly, she dropped back into the forest and quietly circled around. She waited patiently.
“One behind us.”
She dropped back into the forest.
Senka did this a few more times and then waited.
“They’re surrounding us,” the Captain said, “We’ll have to split up.”
“Not a good idea Cap,” one of the men said. “There’s only three of them, no way they have us surrounded.”
“I didn’t ask your opinion, did I?” The Captain snapped back. “You five, go left. We’ll go right. Keep in visual contact with everyone in your group.”
The troops nodded and split up. Senka smiled. She crouched and hid in some bushes and waited for the first group to pass. No one watched the rear; they were in a V formation facing the front and sides. She sneaked up and leapt, grabbing a man from behind, hand over his mouth. He didn’t have time to struggle. Cutting his throat quickly, she lowered him silently to the ground.
She jumped on the other man in the rear but slipped slightly on takeoff, changing her aim slightly so she hit him in the top of the shoulder instead of the neck. The man made a grunting noise as he went down.
Shit, Senka thought as the other three turned in unison. They yelled and attacked.
Senka ducked and weaved carefully avoiding the blue lit blades and biding her time. These troops were very good and held themselves well, working in unison to maim.
Senka was better.
She found her chance when a woman dropped her guard an inch. Senka threw her dagger and she hit her in the face. The woman dropped like a stone. Three down, Senka thought as she dove forward, avoiding the downward swing of a sword. She grabbed the knife in the woman’s face and wrenched it out.
The captain had swung his sword, chasing her roll, and was off balance. Senka rushed him and dragged the dagger across the insid
e of his leg. The man screamed and fell over. She had sliced the artery so he soon bled out.
The last Exalted remaining, a woman with a long greatsword, turned and ran. Senka started to pursue when the woman tripped on a root and fell. Falling on her electrified sword, she convulsed and seized on the ground. Senka cocked her head and stared. The woman foamed at the mouth and died.
Senka shrugged and ran back the way she had come, retracing the steps of the troops. She heard the sounds of clashing swords. Jules and Vigo were under attack. Hopefully, they were faring okay by themselves.
She rounded a tree and was disappointed. Vigo and Jules were standing with their backs against a tree on the defensive. All five Exalted were attacking, including the massive woman with the hammer. Senka flinched as the giant woman swung the hammer and Jules ducked, the weapon taking a two foot chunk out of the side of the tree. Senka sighed. Nothing is ever easy. Jules and Vigo had swords that were insulated on the hilt, so the Pulse didn’t get through. That was their only saving grace.
Senka was tired of sneaking and decided to join the fray. She whistled. The five Exalted looked at her. She gave Vigo and Jules credit, as they both took the distraction and dispatched the man closest to them. Seven, Senka thought.
Two of the remaining Exalted stayed and continued their attack on the boys, and the woman turned with her hammer and approached Senka.
“You will die,” the woman said slowly. She was massive but Senka didn’t think she was very smart. She was probably used to using her huge frame to solve problems and rarely used her brain. Senka was on the high ground and allowed the woman to raise the hammer over her head with both hands. Senka merely darted forward and cut the woman across the stomach in a slash with both daggers. The woman looked down and stupidly blinked twice, then fell like a tree.
Vigo and Jules were still fighting the two remaining men. Senka threw both knives and hit the men in the spine on the back of the neck. They both dropped.
Vigo was tripodding, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. His sword had fallen to the ground. Jules was faring little better. He was pale and wheezing.
“You guys couldn’t have killed more than one for me?” Senka signed.
“Hey,” Jules gasped, not bothering to sign. He was too exhausted, “We killed one each.”
Senka smiled and wrenched her knives away from the bodies. She wiped them on a dead man’s clothes and re-sheathed them.
“Make a shelter,” Senka signed. “You guys are too tired to keep moving today. We’ll set up for the night and leave tomorrow morning. I’ll be back” she signed and turned and ran away.
Vigo had picked up his sword, “I’m going to go relieve myself,” he squeaked, still looking terrified, “I will be a while.” He turned and ran away.
“Oh sure!” Jules yelled to no one in particular, “Leave me alone!”
His voice echoed and then went quiet. There wasn’t even the sound of birds. The dead men stayed dead. He stared at them. He started to sweat again. He didn’t know what he would do if they started moving. He felt more alone than he ever had in his life.
“Senka!” He yelled and chased after her. He figured she had gone to retrieve her arrows, and he wasn’t disappointed. He found her on the plains where he and Vigo had made their desperate flight for the trees. She was sitting cross legged in the middle of the dead bodies, wind blowing through her hair, one strand tucked behind her ear. She was staring at the plains, bow sitting across her lap, spinning an arrow in her hand.
“Senka,” he said. She turned to look at him, “Senka what are you doing?”
She pointed and Jules looked to see a figure across the plains. He was a hundred and fifty yards away. The figure was jogging slowly away, hulking frame lumbering in the distance.
“What’s Vigo doing?” He asked.
She stood and knocked the arrow.
“Wait!” Jules cried, “You’re going to shoot a man in the back? One who helped you?”
Senka took aim, breathed deep and let loose. She didn’t watch to see if she hit him and turned. “I don’t like rats,” she signed walking past him and replacing the bow over her shoulder.
Jules couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the large lumbering man. Jules watched with big eyes as he saw Vigo take the arrow in the back and fall heavily. He tried to drag himself away on his elbows then he lay still.
Jules angrily turned and caught up to Senka. He grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. She wheeled, brown eyes furious. Jules saw an unsheathed dagger glinting between them pointed at his throat. Jules put his hands out in front of him and said, “Calm down.”
“Don’t touch me,” she signed with her free hand. “Ever.”
Senka re-sheathed her dagger and strode towards the forest. Jules sighed and looked at the immobile heap that was Vigo in the distance. He turned and followed Senka into the trees.
13
Titus
Titus was miserable and crawling through mud. His thin white frame was pulling himself through the thick, black muck. He could hear the rest of his troop trudging around him in the course. Collectively, their breaths were coming in rasps. The sloshing mud was sucking around his knees and elbows.
“Too slow! You will have to do it again if you can’t pick up the damn pace!” his training sergeant yelled from somewhere dry.
Titus scrambled harder. He forgot why they were doing this. Something about a guy in his troop whose bed wasn’t made properly. It was a different excuse every day. He knew that they did that for “character building,” but Titus figured that, after two years of this, his character was built enough.
He reached the end of the obstacle course. Or what they called an obstacle course. It was a mud pit over rocks and sticks so that your shins got cut and the mud made them sting. He pulled himself up the large hill signalling the end, following the feet of a troop mate in front of him. He wasn’t sure who it was he was following, but he tried to keep up with their feet. If he fell behind he would be beaten, or worse, made to run the course again.
“Let’s go pussies! I don’t have all day.”
Titus clawed and groaned. He was covered in so much mud his sandy blond hair was black and matted. His thin, white arms were rippling as they pulled his twelve year old frame out of the mud. He was too thin, they didn’t feed them enough. More character building.
Titus scrambled up and gasped with the rest of his troop. He was in the back half, again. Titus was always in the bottom half of everything, he really didn’t excel at anything.
“Stay true to yourself,” she had whispered to him, tears in her eyes “Don’t lose yourself in there. But survive. Promise me you’ll do what you can to survive.”
Titus had tried; he didn’t want to disappoint his mother. At every turn of this training he had been asked to do horrible things, but he had just skated by, keeping at the back of the pack. He had barely done enough to survive, but survive he had.
“Pussies!” The staff sergeant yelled in their faces, the thirty ragged twelve and thirteen year olds panting as the sun set behind them. They had automatically formed ranks when they pulled themselves up out of the mud. “That wasn’t good enough, but it was what I expected. You’re dismissed. Now get the fuck out of here.”
The orders were yelled and the troop marched out of the mud pit. Their heads hung and they tried to blink mud out of their eyes. They marched through the clearing and the sea greeted them. Titus had a rough idea of where they were. They were in a training barracks along the eastern sea. Across the water was his brother in Carabesh. Titus didn’t think he would ever see him again.
He and his brother were never close before Titus had to go to the Sun Gods, but it had been them versus the world. Titus hoped that he could work his way back to Solias and see his family again. Lost in thought, looking out at the sea, a black speck flew over the bedraggled troop. A black speck he recognized. His mother’s raven, Elefteria, swept across the sky. He shut down the surprise he felt and quickly g
lanced around. No one else had seen her. They were all marching, heads down, mud in their eyes.
Titus marched with the rest of his troop into the barracks. Silently with the rest, he bathed and went to bed. He waited until he heard the snores of the others, all thirty breathing rhythmically together. He rose, fully clothed, and sneaked to the door. He waited silently, and when he didn’t hear a rustle for a full ten minutes, opened the door and darted through.
Hunched over, her ran hard to the trees. He needed to make the forest before he was spotted. If they did catch him and thought he was deserting… well, he’d be heading back to his mother earlier than he thought.
Deserters were dealt with slowly. Death was guaranteed, but they could make it last days.
Sand skirted up behind his shoes as he ran. Dressed in his army greens, with leather boots and a coat, he’d blend in to the forest when he got there.
He reached the trees, then stopped to look around, quickly catching his breath. They pushed them hard in training, from the day they started, so that sprint was a breeze. Their parents had hugged them, turned their backs and left. The staff sergeants beat them immediately after and anyone who cried out got a week in the hot room. That’s how the Sun Gods started training, and it just got worse from there. Titus waited and looked around. Seeing no one, he darted deeper into the trees.
When he figured he was far enough away from the barracks, he gave Elefteria’s shrill whistle. The sound brought him back to his mother, standing on their balcony, glint in her eye. Back to a happier time.
He didn’t have to wait long, Elefteria’s elegant frame swooped from the tops of the trees and landed on his shoulder.