“Please, Jane, I need you to do this for me. At least try. Please?” Ria hated to plead, but if she was to fight, then she would need armour and a weapon.
Jane hesitated for a moment, then said, “All right. What sort of weapon?”
“A sword. Long and straight, but not too big. The smallest armour you can find.”
Jane headed off towards the camp.
“Thank you!” Ria called after her, and Jane waved her hand above her head without turning back.
***
Jane hurried through the crowd of men setting up camp, searching for a small set of armour. If she asked Fern or Accolon it would be too suspicious, because she already had her armour. They had not been at all pleased about her fighting, but because she was a Bright One, they had allowed her.
The men stopped work as she passed in order to nod their heads in obeisance. At first she had tried to stop people from doing so, but she soon gave up.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said to a young, slight man, with mousy brown hair and a sad look.
He looked up at her, startled, and said, “Aye, ma’am?”
“I’m looking for some armour, for myself.”
“For yourself?” he asked.
“You do know who I am, don’t you?” she asked and he nodded dumbly. “And don’t you think it would be a good idea for me to have some armour if I am to fight for Paragor?”
“Why, aye o’ course m’lady, that’s exactly what I’m worried aboot! How is it that ye not have any already?”
“Well I ... I had some but ... Look, all you need to worry yourself with is the fact that I don’t have it anymore. Anything you could give me would be appreciated. What’s your name?”
“Luque, my lady,” he said shyly.
Jane decided that a bit of charm and flattery might do the job better. “Luque, yes, a name that shows courage. I would be very grateful if you could help me however you can, Luque. I don’t forget people I am indebted to,” Jane said, trying to smile dazzlingly.
It seemed to have worked, because he flushed and said, “Aye, m’lady. I will gladly give ye my own. I am nae really sure it will be worthy though—ye are somewhat ... higher born than I am.”
Jane smiled. “Actually, Luque, my dad’s unemployed and my mum’s a primary school teacher. I’m no ‘higher born’ than anyone here.”
He stared at her in bewilderment and she sighed.
“Thanks, Luque, anything’s fine.”
He bowed his head and handed her the sack used to carry his armour.
“Thank you,” she said seriously, and this time she really meant it—seeing his young face as he handed her his only means of defence gave her a sick feeling in her stomach, and it was all she could do to stop herself from handing it straight back.
“I shall remember this favour you have done for me,” she told him warmly then turned away quickly. She would find him when this was over, if both of them were still alive, and make sure she thanked him properly.
Jane carried the armour back to Ria’s tent. Entering without notice she found the girl holding a stick in front of her as if it were a sword, and waving it around in complex manoeuvres. It was then she realised she had forgotten the sword.
“What’s wrong?” Ria asked, turning to the door.
“I forgot to ask for a sword,” she said, dumping the armour on the ground. “Try that on for size. It’s probably the smallest I’m going to find here.”
“Thank you. I owe you a debt. But the sword...?”
“Yes, I’ll find you one,” Jane said.
In truth, it was probably best for her to keep active or she might be forced to think about certain things. She had not spoken to Fern properly since the morning in the cabin, and even now, just thinking his name caused her hands to shake and her chest to ache with hollowness.
She could not ask Fern for a sword, and none of the soldiers would be willing to give up their own, so she went off to find Accolon.
Jane found him in his tent, peering closely at the maps of Elendial. Looking up, he waved her in.
“Hi, Accolon. How’s everything going?”
“Not particularly well.”
“Oh. Damn. I’ve, uh, been wanting to tell you that you shouldn’t wait for us ... the Strangers, I mean, to do anything. We might know how to help eventually, but don’t rely on us.” Jane felt bad about having left it so late to tell him this, but she’d truly been hoping the answers would come to them.
“What do you think we’re doing? If your attitude has shown me nothing else, then it has at least shown me that you have not the slightest idea of what to do, and I’ve taken heed of this. We all have. It is why I am so worried about trying to win this war,” he said.
“Right. Well ... I came because I need a sword.”
“What for? You already have a sword—a beautiful one.”
“I know, but before we left, Fern said he might teach me how to use two. He said it was a much more effective way of fighting. I would like to try it.”
“You can’t possibly think that you could learn to use two swords in a few hours? It’s difficult, even for the best of warriors. And you aren’t very deft with one. I don’t think it’s a good idea, Jane.”
“I’ve improved a great deal since you last saw me fight, Accolon.”
“Jane, what if you hurt yourself? You wouldn’t be able to fight in the real battle.” Jane sighed. She had known this wasn’t going to work, but she had no idea what else to say to him.
“All right, I’ll tell you the truth. My sword is broken.”
“Broken? How did it get broken?” he asked in alarm.
“I ... uh, was practising and I hit my opponents sword a little too hard and it broke ... in half.”
“In half? How hard did you hit it? Let me see it.”
“Don’t you believe me?” she asked, feigning offence.
“Of course I believe you, I just find it amazing that a sword like that could snap in half with one blow. I would like to see it.” He sounded amazed, and Jane had a mad desire to burst into laughter.
“You can’t. Uh ... I threw it away.”
“Where did you throw it?” he asked incredulously.
“Just ... down a fire pit.”
“A fire pit! It could have been reforged! You snuck away with a broken sword and threw it into a pit then carelessly ask for a new one?”
Jane fought hard to keep the smile from her face as she nodded. Accolon directed her to one of his own swords, saying that it was the best he could give her. She left the tent ignoring Accolon’s mumblings.
“I’ll never understand those four.”
***
Jane chose the smallest sword she could find and ran towards the healing tent. Looking behind her to make sure no one was watching her, she ran headlong into someone’s chest and was knocked flat onto the ground. Looking up, she was aghast to see Fern staring down at her.
“Jane! Are you all right?” he asked, reaching to help her.
She jumped up and was only just able to evade his hands by side-stepping around him.
“I’m fine,” she called over her shoulder as she raced to put as much distance between them as she could. Humiliation washed over her.
She arrived at the tent, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and handed the sword to Ria.
“Thank you, Jane.”
“Yeah, well I made myself look like a total idiot getting it for you,” she said.
“Sorry,” Ria said.
Suddenly Jane began to giggle. Soon she was laughing hysterically, and Ria was looking at her as though she had gone mad.
“What’s so funny?” she asked her.
“I told Accolon I broke my other sword and threw it into a fire pit,” she said in between giggles.
“And he believed you?” Ria asked, and this sent Jane into further fits of laughter. She told Ria more of what had happened, and soon the girl was laughing beside her.
As Jane walked back to her own tent, men every
where stared at her—laughter was not a sound they expected to hear on the eve of battle. But she was a Bright One, and they were known for acting strangely.
Chapter 39
At dawn, the soldiers lined up. It was then that the snow began to fall. Lined in perfect columns, Leostrial’s men were an army of deadly warriors, and the sight of them chilled every onlooker.
Accolon’s heralds rode out to meet Leostrial and his heralds. In the group were Fern, Accolon, Vezzet, and the four strangers, each with weapons close to hand. The other leaders had stayed behind, readying the army.
None of them had ever seen Leostrial, except for Jane in her vision, and Harry at a distance, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this plainly-clad warrior was he. It was his eyes that gave him away. His were the darkest eyes any of them had ever seen. Satine sat atop a large black horse on his right-hand side, she stared blankly at them all, avoiding their eyes. She looked lovely, and fearsome. Her long blonde hair flowed out behind her and there were two swords in her belt—she was here to fight.
Each one of them, including Leostrial, was aware that Accolon had not taken his eyes from her, and Jane wished that he would, for Leostrial’s face seemed to grow darker with every second that he stared.
Above them flew the two banners of each army. One was of a hateful black weeping eye, and the other was of a pair of dove’s wings—the banner of ‘the army of good’, as they had called themselves.
“I shall give you the chance to surrender here and now, and you will all be permitted to leave unharmed,” Leostrial spoke in a quiet, clear voice. A man on a horse rode forth and handed to Accolon a smaller copy of the banner that flew above Leostrial. Accolon unrolled it and held it up for all to see what it was. Then, in one swift movement, he rolled it back into a ball, and hurled it high into the sky. Without a word of order, the archers from the front line of his army raised their bows, and each let loose an arrow. And every single arrow sailed through the air and pierced the flag before it hit the ground.
“Very well. You have chosen death,” Leostrial said.
But before he could leave, Accolon called, “Wait! There is another matter which must be resolved here and now.”
They all froze. “Satine, you have done your job well. Return to us.”
The army turned to look at Satine, who had manoeuvred her horse alongside Leostrial’s.
“No, Accolon,” Satine said quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll not be joining you. My place is here, with my country. I should never have left. I wish you could understand that Leostrial does not want to destroy this land, but make it prosper. I know you, though. You will not change your mind now. Let us hope we do not come upon one another in the heat of the battle.”
Accolon’s face hardened and he said, “Let us hope that. I do not hope, however, to miss coming across the man who has so hardened you to the voice of reason and compassion. And love.”
A shadow crossed her face then and Jane thought that Satine might cry. “He has not hardened me to love,” Satine said, not looking at Leostrial, but at Accolon. It looked like it hurt her to say.
Accolon narrowed his eyes at her. “You love him?”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes. Of course it does.”
She shrugged. “Then yes.”
“Then I pity you as I have never done, for to love a man with no heart is to have no heart yourself.”
Leostrial had been silent throughout the exchange, but now he moved forward. “That is enough,” he murmured, his voice commanding and filled with authority. “Do not speak to Satine like this because you are heart-sore and jealous,” he said to Accolon. “I had heard that you were a great warrior and a great leader.” Was it disappointment Jane could hear in his voice?
“Why does it matter how I behave? All you wish for is our deaths.”
The warlord shook his head slowly. “You have chosen to fight, so you must die. Satine is not coming back to you.” He paused for a minute and then went on. “I fear I have another great disappointment for you.” His eyes flickered momentarily to where Vezzet was sitting atop his horse, but before he could say anything, the young chancellor kicked his mount into a gallop and rode forth to stand next to Leostrial.
Vezzet’s eyes gleamed with a malice and he watched them all with a sly smile. “You must feel foolish,” he said wickedly. “To have fallen for me so utterly and completely!”
“You monster!” Anna shrieked.
Her face was pale, and her eyes glowed with fury. Jane’s own anger sparked as she looked at her friend.
Vezzet only laughed. “You were the worst of all, my darling,” he crooned. “So gullible. How easy it was to make you think that Tomasso was the traitor.”
“All those times you talked to me of the strange looks he gave you,” Vezzet went on, “about how he never stopped staring at you. You thought he was trying to find out about you because you were a Stranger, but all the time he watched you with love.” He laughed again, and Anna swayed on her horse. Harry was closest to her, and he reached out to steady her, taking her hand.
Vezzet turned to face the rest. “You killed the wrong man!” he gloated. “He was suspicious of me the entire time, but you believed me, the simple stuttering assistant chancellor, even though he was not as smart as his master. But I was the smarter one after all, wasn’t I?”
“You are a fool, Vezzet,” Jane said softly. “For to turn your back on an army with such power is a folly bigger than you know. We will come for you when this is done. You will have nothing left, no place to hide.
“At the end you will realise who we are and what a mistake you have made in betraying us. The gods rot your soul, Vezzet.” The words poured from Jane. The earth fell silent around her.
Vezzet drew back away from her brilliant, terrifying gaze and Leostrial peered at her as though she were a rare gem.
“Who are you?” he asked after a time.
“I am...” A name floated into her mind and she knew it was her true name, but then it was gone again, completely lost to her.
Around her neck, the white pearl glowed and throbbed. “I am the gods’ victorious smile. There will come a time when I shall rid this place of evil as I long ago vowed. I am the fear in the hearts of your men, and you know that I will come for you, Leostrial. This is not your land, not your kingdom. You do not belong here.”
A cold wind blew over the silent soldiers and a charge of electricity ran between Jane and Leostrial. Finally Vezzet broke the spell with a shriek.
“You cannot scare us with your words!”
“That is enough!” Leostrial said and Vezzet fell silent. Leostrial’s face was still a cool mask.
Fern spoke up. “Let us now do what we came here to do.”
Jane gave him a sideways look.
“You are Prince Fern of Cynis Witron?” Leostrial asked.
Fern ignored him. “Leostrial, we came here to stop you from attacking the gods. The outcome would be disastrous. We are going to fight you. If we must die trying to stop you, then so be it. But understand this: we are fighting for what we believe in—every single one of us. Can you say the same for your own army?”
Jane shivered at his fierce determination.
“No, I cannot,” Leostrial said without hesitation. “But I too am fighting for what I believe in, and you will see that my determination and power is enough for the rest of them,” he said, waving a hand to encompass his army. He frowned then, and added, “It is a pity you are all so young.”
Fern shouted, “Then let us begin!” and a chorus of war cries erupted from the battlefield.
Chapter 40
The Heralds Rode quickly back to their armies amidst screams of anticipation. Prince Fern addressed the armies of Paragor.
“Heed me, people of Paragor!”
Silence again fell over the plain.
“It is a terrible day when we must turn on our brother country, but we have come here today to fight for our lives and the lives of our ch
ildren. We must fight for our wives, our sisters, our mothers. We have come here to fight for Paragor and the gods! No honour is greater!
“Today is the day we fight, and today is the day we win!” A great cheer went up.
“Blood shall be spilt and lives shall be taken. I feel honoured and privileged to stand beside each of you in battle and fight for our beloved country. Take your destiny in your hands!”
“For Fern!” they cried.
“For Paragor!”
Fern raised his sword and the armies ran forth. Waves of warriors washed in to meet each other with the clang of steel. Blood flowed and shouts turned to screams.
The ferocious attack on fellow humans, the shriek of horses and people, the crunching of bones and the slicing of flesh, the blood pouring onto the perfect white snow below them was enough to put an arrow in the heart of every man and woman there. The good and bad died together in the softly falling snow.
The Kabduh soldiers fought valiantly, each brandishing two curved swords, killing hundreds of Leostrial’s men between them.
The Amazonians fought bravely, rarely using their blades and instead fighting mercilessly with their long brutal poles.
The sabre-tooths with their evil riders were the most difficult to kill—for all except the immortal warriors, the El~ariah, who cut a terrible path straight through the centre of Leostrial’s army, singing an ancient tribal song as they killed. But Leostrial’s army was too big. If all but the El~araih died, the immortal warriors would have no choice but to kill themselves rather than serve Leostrial.
Leostrial’s men began to gain ground—they would not stop until there was no one left. The cold wind of death washed over the battlefield.
It was then, just as hope began to fade from the armies of Paragor, that an army of light rode from the horizon and stood on the hill next to the battle. The ultimate army of beauty and deadliness, the ancient immortals. And so Blaise’s one true wish was fulfilled.
The army of Elves had come. They lined up on the hill and they raised their bows, notched with arrows, and rained death onto the battlefield. Cries of jubilation again rang out from the battlefield, and a new determination flourished inside Accolon’s army.
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