“Kaiya, now is not the time—”
“Tendaji, report.” Her words were filled with power, even as the extra effort made her head spin. Tendaji frowned at her defiantly before slowly crossing his arms.
“There are no new reports yet, but Lyn has spoken of dwindling forces. It’s only a hunch on her part, but I think she’s right. The Croeli seem to be less threatening now than they were when I left the ranks. The Faoii at your monastery cut down more of them than any of the others did. Whatever magic Thinir is using to get into his enemies’ heads, he has evidently not perfected it.”
“And our army?”
“Last reports indicated that we are nearly four thousand strong. More join the ranks every day, and our most experienced Faoii are becoming combat trainers.”
Kaiya frowned. “That’s not enough. The Croeli may be weaker now, but they still outnumber us. We need more soldiers.” Kaiya tried to stand, feeling the need to pace, but Tendaji pushed her back down sternly. His eyes darkened dangerously, and Kaiya pursed her lips, but remained seated. “If we want to defeat them, we have to strike before they can replenish their forces. But we can’t stay here. We need to move our army before the Croeli send others to investigate their missing fighters.” She pondered for a moment. “We can move to another location; hide our numbers until we are ready to strike in the spring. Then we would have an entire season to train . . .” Her mind turned, faster and faster, the coming months spreading out before her as she followed potential paths with dizzying fervor.
“Kaiya, stop.” Kaiya had not realized that her sudden and forceful oration had left her winded but battle-ready. However, when she looked at Tendaji, he seemed less than amused. She sighed before obediently lying back onto the cot. Tendaji stared her down until she had settled back into the pillow with closed eyes. Once he was certain that she was not planning to jump up again, Kaiya could hear him take out her leather armor and begin mending its pierced plates.
Eventually, Kaiya couldn’t stand the silence and reopened her eyes.
“Tendaji.”
A sigh. “Yes?”
“See if you can find somewhere for us to station the army over the winter.”
“If I promise you that Lyn and I will seek a suitable destination, will you go back to sleep?”
“Just do it. They’ll have to move soon, or the snow will trap them on the trail.”
Tendaji looked up from his work. “They? Are you not planning to join this crusade?”
Kaiya shook her head as she battled to keep her eyes open. “You and I can’t. We have other Faoii to find.”
*~*
Three days later, Tendaji fastened Kaiya’s breastplate before turning to pick up her sheathed fantoii. He squared his shoulders and offered her the hilt. The Faoii shook her head.
“It’s not my blade anymore.”
Tendaji raised one eyebrow and presented it to her again. “Of all those here, you are the only one who is truly worthy to carry a fantoii blade.” Kaiya smiled sadly and looked at the sword that she had carried since the monastery’s fall. Then she lifted her eyes to Tendaji and pushed it back.
“The blade sang for you, Tendaji. It is meant to be in your hands, not mine.”
Tendaji pondered for a moment, then unsheathed the fantoii and studied it with a knowledgeable eye. Kaiya waited. When he slid it back into its sheath with a dutiful click, she released a sigh of relief.
In a single, liquid motion, Tendaji belted the scabbard around his waist, where it hung from his hips as though it had been made to sit there. It was. It was. Kaiya nodded approvingly. A piece of the huge, wonderful puzzle that made up the Goddess’s world had fallen into its proper place.
“We will have to find you another blade, Kaiya.”
“We will.” She smiled at him and turned toward the door. “The Goddess provides.”
*~*
Croeli-Thinir yelled in rage as he overturned a nearby table with a flick of his criukli. The table flew across the room and collided heavily with the wall. Imbeciles! All of them! Some of the strongest refurbished soldiers he had left, and they were not able to take out a single outpost of cowardly prostitutes? It would have been better to send the masses of untrained fodder—they at least would have been guaranteed to attack at the same moment. A stupid mistake! If they had been able to strike at once, both factions would have fallen without difficulty.
Instead, three hundred of his best spies had fallen beneath the blades of whores and housewives. And because of his niece’s ever-increasing power, he had only been able to refurbish a few of the Silentbell wenches for his own purposes. Such failure was not acceptable!
His pacing quickened. Now the untrained bitches had tasted battle. That first tendrils of uncertainty and terror could not be used against them later. They knew victory, and that assurance would strengthen their blades when their hearts faltered.
Worst of all, he had been unable to take control of the pretty little Faoii’s stubborn little mind. She had gained too much power. Too many followers. It was no longer safe to allow her to continue her journey free of shackles. But he had already used most of the blood from the dagger tip to follow her movements, and now he was not sure there would be enough to gain control when it really mattered.
Out of frustration, he struck one of his refurbished slaves across the face. It, of course, offered no response.
And then they’d stabbed her! Stabbed her! Had he not given specific instructions to keep her alive? Why hadn’t that half-breed Tendaji played his part yet?
He threw a chair in a different direction. It splintered against the door frame.
And let’s not forget this new criukli poison. That vile pollutant. He’d already begun to suspect that it was the reason for his decreasing number of refurbished soldiers. Somehow it resisted the magic that the war god had granted him, and yet he could not be rid of it. How many times now had he tried to wipe it from his officers’ minds? A dozen? Yet somehow, the majority still fought his influence and continued to coat their criukli before each battle. Threats of death or torture no longer worked; he had conditioned them past the point of knowing fear. But try as he might, he had not conditioned them past their use of that vile substance.
He needed to strengthen his hold on them, needed to increase the pressure he could put on other minds. He would start moving them more, forcing the soldiers to Blink from place to place. They would dull with every leap, making them easier to control. Some would eventually become too senseless to be truly useful, but even morons could swing a sword. They would become fodder, maintained only so that their blades could draw the blood of those who would take their place in the ranks.
Though Thinir could not stop seething over the failure to acquire his newest and greatest warrior, he could still see the benefits that might come from what he’d learned. In a way, it was better like this. Though he would lose many warriors over time, there could be a brighter side to having a smaller army at the end of it all.
The refurbishing was a difficult process, and only the strong survived it with their minds intact. No one had come away from its influence completely whole, but some were almost as they had been before. And all were content, now that they no longer had a mind to question their orders. When the wars were done, only the strongest would remain, and they would be happy with whatever Thinir rewarded them. If some men fell, it was only so that his portion of the spoils could be divided among those who were left.
Thinir chuckled darkly as he began devising ways to better control those he sought to dominate. For now, he needed more warriors, trained or not. Numbers could bring down the Faoii when skill was not available. It did not even matter whether the refurbished soldiers fell, as long as he had more to replace them with. All that mattered was that more Croeli than Faoii stood in the end.
So you’re building an army, my niece? You can’t even comprehend what a true army looks like.
Thinir’s dark laughter filled the night.
22
This is it, Kai. This is the last group of people I know that might even think about joining us. If they don't help, we'll have to go after Thinir with what we've got."
Kaiya nodded to Lyn as she urged her gelding up yet another snow-covered hill. She'd lost track of how many people they'd spoken to in the last weeks--all had been too afraid or too weak to join the coming war. Maybe this time it would be different. Goddess, please let this time be different.
As they crested this final rise, a valley opened beneath them. Campfires dotted the acres between their knoll and the long line of trees on the horizon.
The Danhaid had bronze skin and dark eyes. The multicolored shells and stones threaded into their brightly dyed outfits and long, copper-colored hair caught the few rays of sunlight that struggled through the overcast skies.
“We should be wary, Kaiya. These people have had almost no contact with outsiders since Lucius’s war five years ago,” Tendaji said quietly as they dismounted.
Kaiya nodded in response but did not reach for the short blade at her hip. Instead, her gaze roamed over the sun-darkened expressions of the people that were cautiously approaching.
“Not Lucius. Thinir.” Kaiya could see her uncle on the plains, could feel his piercing gaze from across the past. She watched the nomads of five years before scatter at the sight of his lightning spell. There was a raw gleam in his eyes born from newfound power.
Kaiya watched the ghostly Danhaid warriors come with their bows and spears, but the demonic-helmed Croeli fell upon them without mercy. The summer grass ran red, and screams of pain and fear filled the air.
But there was hope. Amidst the turmoil a single, ferocious woman fought viciously. Foe after foe fell before her beaded spear, and her trilling cry pierced the battlefield. Others gathered behind her, and slowly the tide began to turn.
When the Croeli finally left, followed by the Danhaid that chose to worship Thinir and his brutal god, Kaiya watched the spear maiden gather those left behind. Broken warriors and frightened women gathered beneath her beaded spear. And when she prayed for them, Illindria heard.
Kaiya’s breath caught as the vision faded, and she shivered as one of the nomads broke from the group and charged toward a tent at the back of the camp. Kaiya pulled her wool cloak around herself, bracing against the chill.
Tendaji glanced over. “Are you all right, Kai?”
“There is a Faoii here,” Kaiya whispered.
Lyn gave Kaiya an incredulous look. “Here? There isn’t a monastery for months in any direction. The Order despised barbarian magics.”
“I don’t think she was trained in a monastery. Or anywhere. But she is Faoii.”
“How do you know?” Tendaji whispered, without shifting his gaze away from the people that were forming a semicircle around them. Kaiya opened her mouth to answer but was cut off when a wide-eyed woman started chattering shrilly in an unknown tongue.
“Well, I guess we all expected this,” Lyn said as a dozen other nomads joined in. She reached for her fantoii, but Kaiya stopped her.
“They’re not attacking.” She motioned to the gathering crowd where the surrounding nomads continued chittering incomprehensibly while lifting their hands to their eyes in a repetitive motion, but they made no move toward the small group or toward their own weapons. Lyn tensed, anyway, eyes narrowed. “Calm down,” Kaiya whispered softly.
“You calm down,” Lyn retorted, her back rigid. “What are they even doing?” Her hand didn’t move from her fantoii hilt.
Suddenly the crowd parted, and a tall, lithe woman stepped out from the sea of bronze skin. Her long legs, uncovered despite the snow, reminded Kaiya of a tiger’s, and her dark eyes were as clear and black as a stream at midnight. Bright, multicolored shells laced through her mane of coppery hair, catching the sunlight as readily as the glinting tip of her beaded spear. The nomadic woman’s rolling stride was unmistakable, though. Kaiya breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of another Faoii.
“Hail, sister.” Kaiya’s whisper rolled across the ground that separated them. Next to her, Lyn deferred to Kaiya’s greeting and immediately fisted her hands over an invisible hilt and bowed her head. On Kaiya’s left, Tendaji mirrored the gesture after a moment’s hesitation. The dark-eyed nomad’s steady gaze passed over each of them in turn.
“I am no kin of yours.” The words were soft around the edges, rounded by the woman’s heavy accent. “Who sends you?”
“No one. We come of our own accord,” Kaiya replied, slowly lowering her arms to her sides. The unnamed warrior shook her head.
“No. You are here by someone’s will.” She brandished her spear with an angry shake and pointed it at Kaiya. “Others have come and said they were not sent. But we all follow the paths that were chosen by those that came before, or by those that loom beyond the reflections of the life pond. Name your sender, outsider. Which deity is carved into the bark of your life tree?” Kaiya smiled and lifted her eyes, enchanted by the other woman’s description of the Goddess. Mollie, you would have loved her.
After a moment’s contemplation, Kaiya used her hands to make the inverted triangle of Illindria. The gesture seemed unnatural to her. The commoner’s symbol was unfitting for Faoii, but the Danhaid leader obviously recognized it and visibly softened.
“She Who Speaks in Dreams has brought you here. I have told the others to prepare for those who claim to be Her messengers. Come. We will hear you.”
Lyn gaped at the sudden change. “Really? That’s it? Girdle, Kai, I wish I’d had you as my negotiator years ago. Imagine what we could have done by now.”
Kaiya rolled her eyes, but she smiled and took a few steps down the hill toward the gathered nomads. A hundred pairs of hands immediately rose to a hundred chests in an inverted triangle. Then, the bronze men and women lifted their hands to their eyes in the same repetitive motion as before. Kaiya stopped in front of the shell-laden Faoii.
“I am Faoii-Kaiya of the Monastery of the Eternal Blade. The woman at the top of the hill is Faoii-Lyn of the Unbroken Weave, and . . .” she stopped, not sure of how to address her brother. He was not Croeli anymore. But Tendaji’s blade had sung for him. He deserved the title of an ascended. With a deep breath and a set heart, Kaiya applied the masculine conjugation to a word that had never been anything but feminine. “And this is Faoli-Tendaji.”
The word seemed almost natural as it rolled off her tongue. Tendaji, who had followed her down the slope, tensed beside her at the given title. Kaiya wondered whether it was a good reaction or a bad one. “May the Goddess guide your battles.”
The spear woman set her weapon in the snow at their feet and laid both hands over her heart. Her unkempt hair fell over her face as she bowed her head. “I am Asanali of the Danhaid-anati. Though now there are only anati left. So I am only Asanali.” She raised her head and looked over the group. “You are cold. Come. I will feed you, and you will tell me about She Who Speaks in Dreams. You will prove to me that you are Her messengers.”
As they walked through the nomad camp, most of the people that they passed continued to bring their hands up to cover their eyes. Kaiya watched the display several times before asking what it was about. Asanali smiled.
“It is a sign of respect. They think that you are messengers of the gods.”
“Why?” Lyn’s voice was incredulous as she cast an apprehensive glance at one of the women they passed.
“Because of the man that came before, five summers ago. He was of dark skin and light eyes. He was a messenger of a god. A dark one. Your bodies and his were carved from the same branch. These people know you to be special, but they aren’t yet sure which god you speak for. You will have to prove that you are for She Who Speaks in Dreams before they will follow you.”
They reached a large, brightly painted tent, and Asanali pulled back the flap that permitted entrance. Warm, coarse rugs covered the ground surrounding a fire pit in its center.
Kaiya frowned. “How do we do that?”
&nbs
p; Asanali motioned for her guests to sit and began skinning one of the rabbits that hung to the left of the entryway. She spoke as though she hadn’t heard Kaiya’s question. “She Who Speaks in Dreams told me that others like him would come. That his life tree spreads far, over many lives. His branch may be the widest and easiest to see, but it is broken. But She said that whole branches would come, too. That they would be sturdy. So I have waited for you.” She looked up as she set the now-meatless hide to one side. “Your Goddess, too, is powerful. Is She as powerful as the horned god?”
The Last Faoii Page 18