by Jenn Nixon
“You have no army here—great guardian of the throne, the safety of your life is at stake,” another shouted.
“Unil, call off your men or you force them to their death.”
“And proudly we will die for him,” a third boomed.
“Take her down!” Unil ordered and three of the men charged at her.
With ease, Tiva thwarted the first of the group, stabbing him in the side with her Timbur. Unil hollered to the remaining three to join the fight.
Seeing the others near, Tiva jumped back putting space between them, to allow her time to make her next move.
Unil’s men surrounded her. She fought them, keeping on the defensive, learning their movements. The quickest of them slashed Tiva’s shoulder, which only angered her. She parried, dodged, and attacked in every manner she’d learned, and by the time she reached the back of the room near the only table, three of them had fallen.
“Call off your men, Unil!” Tiva commanded as her sword clashed with Tenk’s axe. The boy grinned at her, his mouth full of blood from her high kick to his jaw. “If you want them to live, call them off!”
Unil laughed and stood near the exit only watching. She pushed her blade forward, forcefully throwing Tenk against the wall. The other two attacked, she ducked, flipped back in the air, and landed on top of the table. One swung at her legs, she jumped. The other swung at her stomach and she staggered back. Tenk stumbled over and held his axe high in the air, slamming it down on the table.
Tiva lost her balance and crashed back to the ground.
“Kill her!” Unil howled.
Tenk and the other rushed forward their weapons raised, but before striking, Tiva kicked Tenk’s legs from under him, slashed the other at the heels with the claw, and stabbed him in the chest with the sword. She hurried to her feet, and glanced down at Tenk. “Remain on the floor if you value breathing.”
He nodded slightly and stayed.
Only one stood between her and Unil now. He didn’t seem scared, rather amused as she neared. Sensing something stir behind her, she reached into her tunic, spun around and threw the dagger across the room, pinning Tenk’s hand to the wall.
“Impressive,” Unil said. “Solun was right about you, quick and nimble.”
“Where is he? I’d like to thank him for the compliment,” she spat and moved closer.
“Here and there, nowhere and everywhere.” Unil pushed the last man toward her like a true coward. He held a bladed staff in his hands and struck her across the stomach. Jumping back in time to save her from severe damage, Tiva cringed as her uniform ripped and blood soaked through. They fought, strike for strike, and kick after kick, every so often cutting each other.
Tiva pushed herself harder, knowing she neared the zenith of her stamina. She needed it for Unil. Stepping back, she forced her opponent to move to her. Every step he took she thrashed back at him with most of her strength. He began to falter and stumble. Another step back, he moved up, and Tiva struck at his hip, he twisted his body away, but the blade slashed his stomach wide open. He slumped to the ground.
Ensuring Tenk was still behaving, she glanced back to see him trying to pull the dagger out awkwardly from one knee. “Do you require another?”
He looked over and stopped fidgeting.
“Solun is not going to like me killing you, but you leave me no choice,” Unil said with a smirk. “He’ll be broken when he learns of your death, he still has wild fantasies about finding you and showing you the true path.”
“I know my path; it is not with Solun, you, or any of these filthy Rebels.”
“Rebels…” He raised a brow. “Interesting, I’ll pass that along.”
“If your tongue remains in your head.”
“You give yourself too much credit, Tiva, you may have beaten down my men, but they were not trained as I was.” He raised two short moon lances, much like Bumo used, and spun them quickly in his hands. “I shall not fall so easily.”
Focusing, she lifted her sword high, and extended the claw. He lunged, she pivoted to the side, and as he passed, she sliced his side. They danced on the floor exchanging blows, each one stronger than the last. Tiva balanced on her feet dodging many of his attempts. He grew angrier by the moment. Inwardly, she smiled, knowing she was getting to him.
Unil slashed her leg with his weapon and the gash brought her to her knees. He scoffed, “This is a Royal Guardian? You jest! I should have fought you myself from the beginning; you’d be dead by now.”
Ignoring him, she swept his feet bringing him down to her level. She stabbed his foot with the Timbur, and as he rolled away, she kicked him in the back. Unil slammed against the broken shards of the table and struggled to pull himself up. She jumped to her feet and slid across the floor. When Unil looked up, her blade was under his chin.
“You can come quietly or I will send you to the Eternal Lands.”
Unil grinned. Tiva kept her eyes locked on him, and cried out as a dagger slammed into her shoulder. She staggered back. Unil rose to his feet, his blade nearing. In one swift motion, she removed the dagger, threw it back across the room with her right hand, and with her left twirled her sword above her head for added momentum into the slash across Unil’s chest.
He fell to his knees. Tenk slid against the opposite wall, Tiva’s dagger lodged in his throat.
Walking around the room, she found three of Unil’s men alive, they were severely injured and unconscious. She exited the room and lifted her PCD to contact the legionnaires, but nothing went though.
“Damn the spirits!” she scowled. A moan resonated on the hilltop. Tiva searched the area and found Defor crushed against a rock. “Defor!”
“Tiva…” he said.
“You are hurt,” she said, rushing to his side and lifting his head to her lap.
“My body…is beyond repair.”
She ran her fingers across his markings trying to comfort him. “No, I will get you home.”
“Too late,” his voice cracked. “You must…king.”
“What?”
“Their leader…gone…assassinate king…”
“When?”
“Now, go…”
“I will send someone back, do not lose hope.”
“My mother, tell her I love…” he cried, with his last breath.
*
The pain was almost unbearable, but it didn’t stop her from running as fast as able back to the province hall. Reaching the outskirts of the capital, her legs gave out, she steadied against a building, but had to push through and return. She prayed Lo’mu and his men wouldn’t wait too long for her at their meeting point, and return safely.
Her uniform was torn and soiled with blood and sweat; makeshift tourniquets tied around her leg and shoulder. Using the building as a guide, she limped down the alley and into the square. Several legionnaires shouted her name and rushed to her.
“Permit me to help you, Guardian Boon,” Eyon Narss, the second captain Lo’mu put in charge, offered.
Tiva accepted, and leaned against him for support. “Have the others returned?”
“Not all, division four returned with no word of Captain Defor…”
“He has perished,” she said, wincing as he stopped short.
“I see,” he murmured. “Division two is attempting to get communications online, but it isn’t coming easily.”
“I need a healer and the fastest vehicle we have here, and I need them quickly,” Tiva said.
The group of legionnaires barricading the hall parted. Tiva sensed their eyes on her, but raised her shield to suppress whatever they were thinking and feeling.
“Understood.” He helped her inside and to the nearest chair, then ran back out.
Limping up the stairs, she entered her chamber, sat on the sleep couch, and stripped to her undergarments. She removed the tight cloth from around her wounds and leaned back, breathing heavily, trying to ignore the throbbing agony. The gashes in her shoulder, stomach, and leg were the worst of them,
but several other small cuts and bruises covered her body. A light tap on her door came, and she beckoned the healer inside.
“I need this done swiftly. I have no time to delay.”
“I will do my best, Guardian Boon,” the healer said nervously, knelt on the floor and tended to her leg. Tiva bit her lip despite the healer’s gentle hands, the sting riding her spine. Once clean and dressed, the healer worked on her shoulder. Another tap on the door followed.
“Enter.”
“Guardian Boon…” Eyon rushed in and abruptly turned away. “My apologies.”
“Do not worry, we have little time, speak your mind.”
“Jarn and his division returned, and there has been an explosion at the communications tower. Lo’mu and his division are in pursuit of the saboteurs,” he said, turning only slightly. “No one else was hurt, and the mob is slowly leaving the area. What are your orders?”
“When Lo’mu returns, have him go and recover Defor’s body.” She cringed as the healer pressed the dressing against her shoulder. She retrieved the map from her belt, and slid it toward him. “Three others may still be alive in the Rebel meeting room, detain them.”
“Understood.”
“Send Jarn up here, give his division the night to recover, but double up coverage around the capital until further notice. I am returning to the palace as soon as the healer is done, there is a plot to harm the king.”
“Should we continue to try and fix communications?”
“Yes, it will take the better part of the night for me to reach Degort, even at top speed. If you can get a message to the palace before my arrival, the better our chances,” she said, lifting her undershirt exposing the slice across her stomach. The healer immediately cleaned and began stitching it.
“Very well, anything else?” he said warily, glancing at her cut.
“No, dismissed.”
Eyon bowed and exited the room. The healer glanced up at Tiva and a smile crossed her features.
“You are amused by something?” Tiva asked.
“I am impressed that is all,” she said.
“How so?”
“The rumor is you are not Abennelpian, but a reincarnated spirit of both good and evil, who cannot be killed. Yet seeing you here wounded so, I cannot understand how such words were said about you.”
Tiva sighed; it was as she thought, rumors had followed her here. “I do not know how it came to pass myself, but I am sure the fault is my own. I am young and still learning.” She sucked in a breath as the healer covered the last serious injury. “My father always told me I was tenacious, but I never meant cause fear.”
“No one fears you, Guardian Boon, well…they do fear for your enemies, but not you.”
“I am glad to hear that,” she said, gathering a clean uniform and carefully sliding on her pants. “I require pain medication; I have a long journey and cannot afford to stop.”
The healer opened her satchel and pulled out two injectors. She raised one to Tiva’s neck and administered the medication. Leaving the other on the sleep couch, the healer turned and made for the exit.
“Speak your name, healer.”
“Healer Kiya, Lady Boon.”
“Thank you, Healer Kiya.” Tiva smiled.
The healer beamed, nodded, and exited the room just as Jarn knocked on the door.
“Legionnaire Jarn, I am pleased to see you well.”
“You have been injured?”
“I will manage, with your help,” she said, and fastened the toggles on her tunic.
“How may I assist?”
“I hear you are the best hover driver in the regiment and I need to get to the palace as soon as possible. There is an attempt on the king’s life, and we have no means of communication.”
“I can get us to upper Whettland by nightfall, the communications tower in Stimli should not have effected anything that far north.”
“Good.” She cringed as she affixed the belt around her waist. “The hover should be waiting for us, gather rations for the journey, I will meet you in a moment.”
Jarn quickly exited, leaving Tiva alone with her thoughts. So much had happened, trying to sort it all out was difficult, but the legionnaires were competent. They could handle things well in her absence.
She didn’t think about it at first, but Unil knew she killed Bumo. How? It was, however, low on her list of priorities. Her main concern was the king. Solun and an unknown number of Rebels were nearing Degort ready to do harm to Harer. Tiva could not let that happen. She combed and braided her disheveled hair, and retrieved her cloak, securing it around her neck. The pain medication began working, she felt slightly better, and hoped her body would heal quickly for she had no time to waste.
Outside, she met with Eyon and the third captains. She gave several other groups orders around sectors that needed protection, and promised to contact them as soon as possible. Rounding the building, she found Jarn waiting by the hover. She slipped into the passenger’s seat, and secured herself.
“Make haste, Jarn. Do not stop for anything until we reach north Whettland. Attempt communications every so often, with luck we will lock onto another tower.”
He nodded and started the vehicle. “You should rest, Guardian Boon. I will alert you if anything occurs.”
“Thank you, Jarn.” Tiva leaned back, pulled her cloak tight around her to keep warm, and drifted off to sleep.
*
“Guardian Boon, we have arrived.” Jarn’s voice was soft in her ear. The hover wasn’t moving, and when Tiva opened her eyes, all was dark. “I tried to contact the palace as you instructed, the tower here in Whettland is destroyed too. The legionnaires stationed here have not found the culprits, but are still searching.”
She rubbed her temple and looked out the front window to see two legionnaires walking away. “How long until we reach Degort?”
“If we don’t stop again I will have us at the border by midnight.”
“Do you need sleep, Jarn? I am rested enough to take over for a spell.”
“I don’t mind, Guardian Boon, you continue to rest. We don’t know what to expect upon reaching Degort. You may need your full strength.”
Her mouth curved slightly. “I will not argue, your advice is sage. Take the main border road of the Yaan and Ullibro provinces, and if you see any guardians wake me.”
“Very well,” he said, smoothly guiding the hover back onto the road.
Tiva rested, but did not sleep at first. Her dreams were often disturbing, even if short. The bladed staff that Unil carried stuck in her mind. Something about it gave her pause, but she could not quite grasp what it was. They reached the edge of Whettland, the welcome arch of Yaan province appearing. Her home was far off to the east, she sighed heavily, yearning to sleep in her own bed.
The hover slowed, Tiva jolted awake from her half-slumber. “What is it?” she asked.
“The road to Degort is blocked.”
She sat up straight. “By whom?”
“From this distance it is hard to say, though my eyes tell me they are carrying weapons.”
“Have they seen us?”
“Possible, but they have made no movement to indicate so,” Jarn said.
“It is too far for me to walk to the palace; we will have to risk facing the guards.” Tiva unsheathed her sword and placed it on her lap. Using the cloak as a cover, she gripped the hilt tight, nodded to Jarn who moved the hover toward the blockade.
They drove through the darkness, nearing the entrance to Degort. Three shadows stood by the welcome arch. Upon closer inspection, Tiva noticed their legionnaire uniforms. Still, something seemed wrong.
Jarn sighed in relief and tapped a few buttons on the console to open the window.
“No,” Tiva said. “We know not who they are, wait until—” A knife flew into the hover via the half-opened window and slammed into Jarn’s temple.
Chapter Sixteen
Jarn slumped forward, dead. Tiva cursed and crouched on t
he floor. She had to move fast to survive. She hit the thrusters of the hover and it jerked forward, she peeked out the front window saw a half dozen men block the road. If she were in top form she might defeat them, but in her condition, she’d surely perish. Using her sword to guide the hover, she accelerated, hit the autopilot, and jumped into the back seat. The hover zoomed forward, the men guarding the road scattering. Tiva kicked the back shield off the hover. She climbed out of the craft, rolled off the side, and snuck into the woods before the hover crashed against a nearby tree.
The moon, hidden by lingering rain clouds, peeked through occasionally, offering beams to help light the way. With a bit of stealth, good luck, and prayer, Tiva weaved through brush, wood, and field.
Her destination, the main hover-tram station, was dim and quiet upon arrival. The neon lights of the waiting area shimmered and hummed in rhythm with one another. A distant vibration shook the platform beneath her feet. One good thing about the capital of Abennelp, she knew it rarely rested. However, with things as they were, in the middle of a crisis, she wondered if the Rebels had hijacked the hover-tram. They’d already gained control of the main road into town.
Remaining in the shadows, Tiva lifted her hood and waited. She grew more impatient even as the lights of the hover-tram blinked in the distance. The sleek passenger vehicle slowed on the tracks. A few people exited, only two entered. Taking a breath, Tiva slipped into the last compartment and sat in a seat at the back of the tram. One other person shrouded in a tattered hooded cloak, sat in the middle of the tram, glancing over every so often. The hover-tram jerked slightly then began its trek toward the palace. Only having used the public transport system once, Tiva was unsure how many stops it made before reaching the marketplace. From there, at least, she could risk the walk.