Battle for Tristaine

by Cate Culpepper

  The twang of the bolt’s release reached Brenna above the war cries, as keen and isolated as a note plucked on the string of a terrible harp.

  Jess was just turning in response to Shann’s cry. Brenna forced an extra burst of speed out of her exhausted legs and threw herself at Jess. She tackled her hard and took her down.

  Patana’s crossbow bolt whizzed harmlessly past them both and struck Camryn full in the chest.

  Chapter Eight

  “Take me to Theryn.”

  Dana let out a long breath. “I can’t do it, Brenna.”

  “Tell me how to make you do it.”

  Brenna was shorter than Dana by at least two inches, but in the tense air of the stable she seemed to be growing, in formidability if not stature.

  “Look, keep your voice down.” Dana glared at Rodriguez, who watched them from his post a few yards down the railing. “I’m sorry your friend got hurt, but like I said, there’s nothing I can do for you. You can use the contents of that medical kit to help her, but that’s it. Caster’s orders,” she said for the third time.

  “We need to get this woman to Tristaine’s infirmary, under sterile conditions, with the right supplies, or she’s going to bleed to death.” Brenna’s lips trembled, but her voice was steady as a rock. “If you can’t authorize that, then take me to Theryn.”

  Dana had heard this girl described as one of the finest Med Techs the City had ever educated, and she also remembered the way Brenna had fought during the war games. If Dana were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she could take her in a fair fight.

  But this was not a fair fight, and there was nothing she could do for the wounded Amazon. Dana had to accept that reality, and so did her prisoners. She clenched her rifle in both hands and met Brenna’s flashing eyes.

  “Okay,” Dana said, “come with me.”

  Dang it! Dana fumed. What is it with these Amazon witches, some kind of damn feminist mind control? She gestured to Rodriguez, who lifted the wooden railing that separated the stable from the soldiers.

  Brenna ducked beneath it, then glanced back toward the Amazons gathered around Camryn. Kyla lifted her head and caught her gaze. Brenna had to grit her teeth against the desolation in her eyes.

  “You taking this one up to Theryn’s lodge?” Rodriguez said. Brenna could smell liquor on his breath as she passed him. The smell nauseated her.

  “That’s right,” Dana answered dismissively. “As you were.”

  Brenna preceded Dana up the stairs that led out into the deserted arena. Her hands were tacky with blood, her arms streaked red from wrist to elbow. Now that she wasn’t tending Camryn, Brenna could feel herself start to shake. When the mercenary named Dana took her arm as they crossed the rough ground of the fighting field, Brenna dimly registered that her hold was supportive rather than cruel.

  “Just what do you imagine Theryn’s going to do about this?” Dana knew her voice sounded angry, which was fine; she was. She never should have read that fucking journal; she was risking her entire fucking career. “Theryn’s no doctor. Caster’s the one calling the shots!”

  “Shann’s a doctor. A good one.”

  Brenna was walking fast, and Dana lengthened her stride to stay with her. “Theryn is not going to let you take that wounded prisoner to the infirmary, and she’s not going to let that Shann woman come back with us. Didn’t you hear me? Caster was real specific tonight.”

  “I heard you. I have to try.” Brenna folded her arms and waited as Dana keyed open the padlock of the outer gate, then went through it and out into the moonlit Amazon village.

  Brenna was terrified. She wasn’t sure they could save Camryn, even if she and Shann had her in the infirmary now and they had a double line of cross-matched blood donors waiting. But the reminders Jess had whispered to her in the stable rang true. Camryn came from strong Amazon stock. She was young and healthy going into this, and she had a warrior’s heart.

  Their quick steps sounded over the footbridge that spanned Tristaine’s river, Terme Cay. Brenna glanced down at the black water that swirled beneath the bridge. It looked cold, fast, and merciless.

  The silent village was flooded with the blue light of the full moon. If there were soldiers posted as sentries, Brenna didn’t see them. She kept her eyes pinned on the lodge Theryn shared with Grythe, one of the larger, more luxurious cabins nestled in the trees.

  Adrenaline fueled her up the four split-log steps to the cabin’s ornate door. The mixture of fear and dread that gripped Brenna didn’t eclipse her professional instincts, and she was grateful for that. Her practical goal kept her focused.

  She was on a mission to secure the best medical care possible for an injured patient. The fact that the patient was Camryn, Kyla’s adonai and Jess’s second, her own adanin…

  Brenna knocked, hard.

  Dana’s stomach hurt, and the ache didn’t improve when her prisoner struck the door again, harder. They heard the neat click of a well-made latch, then blinked in the sudden light of the lamps and candles that filled the cabin. Dana was unpleasantly surprised. She hadn’t expected to see Caster.

  “Well, Miss Dana, I am less than pleased.” Caster was dressed in a flowing robe of silver silk, but her stylish hair was as carefully coiffed as ever. Her black eyes glittered as they crawled over Brenna.

  “I’m here to see Theryn, Caster,” Brenna said.

  “Well, that leaves you standing on this quaint little porch all alone, then.” Caster turned and strolled back into the cabin. “Theryn and that pretty little lunatic she beds have gone to fetch me a long-delayed dinner. They’ll be back presently. Bring her in, Dana.”

  Brenna hesitated, and Dana had to nudge her gently. They followed Caster into the sumptuous lodge.

  Dana closed the door and leaned back against it. She studied Theryn’s ornate decor and fine furniture, and let out a low whistle. This was by far the most luxurious cabin she’d yet seen in Tristaine. She wondered if Shann’s private unit was this grand. Somehow she doubted it.

  Caster left Brenna standing on a fringed rug in the middle of the hardwood floor and reclined heavily on the loveseat. She lifted the jeweled eyeglasses from the delicate chain around her neck and fit them in place. Then she picked up a folded document from the neat stack on the table before her.

  “Tristaine’s mine yields a much higher quality ore than even City geologists suspected, Brenna.” Caster smiled at her over her glasses. “The samples I’m taking back to the City along with my film will please my funders a great deal.”

  “Camryn has a collapsed lung, Caster. I’ve stopped the external bleeding and bandaged the wound, but she needs surgery.”

  “Well, clinical medicine is hardly my first field, but if a chest wound isn’t sucking any longer, you’ve patched any leak, yes?” Caster went back to her review of the mine schematics. “Just treat her for shock, Brenna. The girl will be excused from the filming of the final battle tomorrow, of course.”

  “She’s hemorrhaging internally, and that bolt needs to come out. We need Shann, Caster. She’s had years of experience with battle wounds.”

  “I’m sorry, dear. You know how I hate to lose anyone. But better this young Amazon, than your own dear Jesstin, yes?” Caster tossed the paper on the table and removed the reading glasses to examine her former assistant carefully.

  “By the way, I underestimated you, Miss Brenna. You saved the life of your warrior-mate quite handily today. It’s regrettable that you can’t help poor Camrie now, though. Especially since she’d be fine and dandy tonight, had you not interfered. Does little Kyla blame you, too?”

  “Listen to me, you spiteful City shrike.” Brenna had stopped shaking, and her voice was low and hard. “I don’t care how much you hate me or Jess. I don’t care how long we’ve festered in your corrupt little mind. You’re going to get your reputation back, and the City is going to get its silver. That’s enough. Our friends don’t have to die.”

  “Oh, sure they do.” Caster lifted her ey
eglasses. “My killing your loved ones is entirely in keeping with the spirit of the Tristaine project, Brenna. Isn’t that how the Amazons of old avenged themselves, dear? By slaughtering not only their enemies, but their families as well?”

  Dana had studied history on the sly even though it was illegal, and she could have told Caster she was thinking of the Mongols, not the Amazons. But she wasn’t about to correct her. The air between the two women fairly crackled with danger.

  “We must take Camryn to the infirmary,” Brenna repeated. “And Shann must do the surgery.”

  “No,” Caster answered simply.

  J’heika, rise.

  Great, Brenna thought. If I ever needed coaching from spirits, now’s the time.

  But no instructions came, just a slow flood of sadness.

  “Theryn realizes she must concede to my wishes in this, Brenna.” Caster smiled at her. “She’s smart enough and ambitious enough to know when to be flexible with our terms.”

  Camryn.

  “But you’re welcome to stay until Theryn returns and try to work your feminine wiles on her.” Caster tittered. “I’d love to watch that, Bren! Miss Psychotica Grythe would tear out your heart with her small, misshapen teeth.”

  Brenna turned. “Take me back,” she snapped, and Dana scrambled after her.

  The same inner pull that had alerted Brenna weeks ago in the glade, when the boar attacked, drew her to the stable now. But unlike the first time, there was no urgency in this summons. Somehow she found that much more ominous than comforting.

  They stepped down the cabin’s log stairs and almost walked into Theryn and Grythe.

  “Brenna!” Theryn steadied her glowering wife who was, as usual, draped over her arm. Both were laden with covered plates that emitted a heavenly aroma. “Dana, what’s she doing here?”

  Brenna pushed past the finely dressed couple, upsetting a platter intended for Caster. “Get out of my way, Theryn.”

  “Wait! Tell me about Camryn.”

  Brenna wheeled. “Just tell me. Did you order Patana to try to kill Jess, or was that her own bright idea?”

  Theryn regarded Brenna with sorrow. “I had no knowledge of Patana’s move against Jesstin, little sister. I promise you.”

  “Crossbows were banned from the field, Theryn. Where did Patana get one?”

  “I honestly don’t know. She acted without my—”

  “Is Patana fighting tomorrow?”

  “I have no control over that.” Theryn scrubbed one hand across her face, the first natural gesture Brenna had ever seen the pretentious Amazon make. “I stood before the entire clan this morning, Brenna, and ordered a battle without harm. You saw me, you were there! Now, how is Camryn?”

  “Camryn is dying, Theryn. She took a bolt to the chest today. You saw her, you were there.”

  Brenna continued toward the arena, and Dana scrambled after her.

  “Will you hang on, for crying out…” Dana fumbled with the keys to the padlock on the stadium gate.

  Brenna waited until the hasp of the lock lifted, then pushed open the gate.

  Dana caught her arm. “Here, take this.”

  She was holding out the small spiral notebook Brenna used for a journal. Brenna stared at her.

  “Shann says to bring it up to date.”

  Brenna grabbed the notebook, shoved it into her pocket, and ran for the stable.

  *

  Everything was so quiet, Brenna thought she was too late.

  The soldiers were seated in their part of the room playing cards without much spirit.

  In the stable, the bloodied straw had been cleared away. Camryn lay cushioned on two blankets and covered by three more. Her head rested in Kyla’s lap, and she was conscious.

  Most of the other Amazons weren’t clustered around her any longer. They stood or sat, in groups of twos and threes, and stared at nothing. The stable was silent. No sobbing, or even anger, and Brenna could sense a feeling of peace and acceptance in the stable. She refused to share it.

  Only Elodia, Vicar, Hakan, and Jess still surrounded Kyla and Camryn. These were the faces Camryn wanted to see at the end. When Brenna knelt in their circle, Cam waved her fingers in welcome.

  Brenna had seen death. Not a lot of it. She hadn’t been working that long, but she’d seen it. She’d even seen violent deaths during her internships, and the death of children. This was unlike any other deathwatch she had ever attended.

  It was peaceful, for one thing. There were no life-sustaining measures underway, no alarms, no intercoms that screamed protocols. Camryn was dying in a quiet space, surrounded by women she loved. She wasn’t free from pain. Even as Brenna watched, she stiffened for a moment in Kyla’s arms. But those moments didn’t happen often. Camryn was almost ready to die, and her pain was ebbing along with her strength.

  Brenna saw that Vicar, Hakan, and Jesstin all wore similar expressions, a kind of restrained grief. She recognized it as the stoic mask Amazon warriors always wore when their sisters died in battle.

  Elodia was the only woman in the circle who cried. Her tears were soundless, but she clasped Camryn’s hand and prayed—a soft, subterranean flow of musical Spanish.

  Kyla’s ashen face was a study in control. She held Camryn with gentle strength, stroking her hair and murmuring to her occasionally. Brenna gazed at her, remembering that Kyla had lost her innocence when her blood sister Dyan was murdered. Tonight, she would leave the last of her youth behind.

  Finally, Jess cleared her throat. “Anything else, Cam?”

  There was a pause before Camryn answered, and the weakness of her voice told Brenna how very close she stood to the doorway.

  “I’m sorry to leave.” Cam’s unfocused eyes found Kyla’s brown ones above her. They filled her sky now. “Bye, Kyla. You be good.”

  “I love you.” Kyla sobbed once, but only once. She wanted to be able to see and hear Camryn while she still lived.

  “Me you back, adonai.” Camryn rested for a moment. Then she focused on Brenna and grinned. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks?” Brenna lifted Camryn’s cold hand to her knee. “For what, Camryn?”

  “You can call me Cam. For saving Jess like you did. You were great, Bren.”

  “Okay,” Brenna whispered.

  J’heika, rise.

  “Give me the Queen’s Blessing?” Cam asked Brenna.

  “What?” Brenna didn’t know who she was asking for information, Cam, or that spectral voice in her head.

  Camryn spoke again, with effort. “Give me the Queen’s Blessing, j’heika.”

  Camryn closed her eyes, and Kyla stroked her brow.

  “Who is J’heika?” Vicar asked Jess, but Jess shook her head, puzzled.

  “None of us can give the Queen’s Blessing, mi amiga.” Elodia’s callused hand lay on Camryn’s blanketed leg. “But you know Shann will send you a Blessing from the new Tristaine. We’ll get our lady out of this, hija, and we’ll avenge you. You have Elodia’s promise.”

  “Elodia.” Across their circle, Hakan stirred. “Never speak of vengeance at a warrior’s deathbed, little sister. You’ll be cursed.”

  “But she should know—”

  “The Queen’s Blessing on your journey, Camryn,” Brenna said softly. Jess and the other Amazons all stared at her. She ignored them and laid the palm of her right hand lightly at the base of Camryn’s throat.

  “You leave us too early, little sister. The few seasons we had with you were much too brief. Our hearts are breaking, Cam.”

  All the energy in the stable, possibly all the energy in Tristaine, condensed and spiraled down to illuminate a small space, occupied only by Brenna, Kyla, and the dying warrior they comforted. No one could see this energy, but Brenna’s deepest instinct recognized it as the granting of the Queen’s Blessing.

  “But along with grieving for you, Camryn, we’ll honor you.” Brenna smiled, and her eyes overflowed with tears. “You gave your life in defense of your clan. You’re a warrior worthy of Kimba�
�s mantle, and you’ll be remembered around our storyfires for generations. Now, close your eyes, honey. Let your adanin tell you good-bye.”

  Brenna’s spirit glowed with a gratitude that was almost sacred, and she suddenly realized that was how an Amazon queen bid farewell to her fallen warriors. The gaze of the Amazons around her felt like warm beams touching her skin. Gradually, the women focused on Cam again and started saying their own silent and final farewells.

  “You’ll find our mothers waiting to welcome you,” Brenna promised Camryn, “with a warm fire in the hearth, a platter of venison on the table, a flagon of cold mead in your hand, and the embrace of lost sisters to warm your heart. Camryn, daughter of Louisa, walk with Kimba. She’ll lead you home to the real Tristaine. We’ll see you again there.”

  “Thanks,” Camryn murmured. Her eyes opened wide a last time. “Samantha’s alive, Brenna.”

  Brenna felt as if she were waking from a long nap. She couldn’t speak.

  Jess leaned forward. “Are you sure, Cam?”

  “Yeah. Brenna’s sister is alive.”

  “But how do you know, adanin?” Jess asked gently.

  “I’d see Samantha here, if she was dead.” Camryn smiled at them and closed her eyes. “Because I can see Lauren now…”

  Camryn relaxed in Kyla’s arms. Brenna’s palm measured the fading of her valiant heart as it faltered and stopped.

  *

  Dana stood against the wall and shivered with a weariness that was tinged by nausea. She tried to stifle the latest in a series of jaw-cracking yawns.

  The Amazons had been quiet since they covered the warrior’s body with a blanket and carried it to lie in state beneath one of the stable’s barred windows. Maybe some of the prisoners slept, because no one had stirred for hours.

  Kyla sat beside the blanketed body of her life-mate, her face in her hands. She seemed to be praying, though Dana couldn’t hear any words, just soft snatches of song. She had offered to bring the girl some hot tea, but Jesstin had politely turned her down.