Jona screamed in an incoherent rage. Sherie saw the stockier man whip a dagger from his belt. Sherie stepped to the side and didn't even think about her next motion. These men moved so slow compared to Kryss; it was as if she had all day to decide what to do. She knew she shouldn't be fighting them; they were the duly appointed law enforcement of their hold, just as the Legion was throughout the realm.
The only things she knew for sure was that these men weren't going to kill her. While she didn't care much for the dog, what the tall guardsman did really pissed her off. The animal was no threat.
She was the threat.
She pulled her blade out of the stocky man's neck. She'd felt the bones separate when she impaled him. While she had him there, she grabbed his short sword and turned to the tall guard, with a blade in each hand.
She watched Jona slide down the man's long blade to the ground. His vitae glistened on it. The horses whinnied and danced, but they were too well trained to bolt at the smell of blood.
Sherie stepped forward with a snarl and smacked the man's long blade away as she came directly inside his guard. He tried to pull a dagger, and she pinned his mailed hand to his belt with her right blade and slid her other blade between his cuirass and his armor belt. He dropped his long blade when she jammed it through the man's pelvis. He screamed as he fell.
Sherie yanked her blade from him and slit his throat while he fell. She walked over to Jona and knew with one look that he was a dead man. The wound was right beneath his heart, in the solar plexus. One of the places you were taught to aim for in training. This soldier had hit it solidly.
She looked down at him. There was nothing left in her heart, every feeling she'd had was gone except that she cared that this kind man was dying. There was nothing she could do about it, and she knew it.
"Queenie..." was all he managed to say weakly before the end. Sherie knew what this was. It was his last request. Sherie went to the dog and knelt beside her.
The animal's breathing was ragged, and she whined weakly. Sherie touched its chest where she'd been kicked, and she squealed painfully as she probed with her fingers and felt the broken bones.
She looked into the animal's big brown eyes and saw something familiar in them. It was the same thing that she'd seen in too many people. It said, "Please help me. If you can help me, I will love you forever." It was a disturbingly human sentiment to be seen in the eyes of this poor dog.
A tear ran from Sherie's eye when she saw this. She told her, "I'm sorry honey, I can't do anything for you. But I killed the bastard that did it." That was when she realized the one thing that she could do.
She put one gauntlet on her muzzle and one on the back of her head. Quietly she told her, "I'm sorry girl," and twisted sharply to end her suffering.
Saturday June 9th 1612th year of the First Great City Letting go
Sherie rode her stolen horse down the road, wondering why everything had gone to hell yesterday. She remembered the dog darting out. It startled her, then she drew steel. Then they started to draw.
Then it was them or me, she thought grimly.
They were so slow compared to her. Sherie had always been quick, the Legion combat instructors had remarked on it many times. After fighting Kryss for three days, it seemed like people moved slower than they did before.
She knew that was just because the Kryss were so damned fast though, and she'd become accustomed to fighting them.
She wondered what had happened to Jona. She wondered even what he did to get himself stabbed. She didn't see his ax in his hand or anything like that. So why had that man killed him? Yes, she heard Jona scream. He sounded enraged, but that couldn't be seen as cause to kill someone, not even to the greenest Legionnaire.
The truth was, she would never know why he died, and she didn't like that.
Sherie hadn't been sure what to do after everything was over yesterday. She knew that even though the tall Guard had started the real violence by kicking the dog, it wouldn't matter in a trial.
When it was all done, she had looked at the bloody scene. What do I do now? She wondered.
Resupply was the first thing that came to mind. She undid the weapons belts on the two men and found their coin purses. She didn't think about what she was doing, or how illegal and immoral it was until after she had looted the three men. She just watched both directions for people. Then she gathered the reins of one of the horses, mounted it and rode until darkness fell.
She stopped and pulled her armor off and left it in the woods where she'd slept. She wasn't really sure when she decided not to die. She just didn't think about it and kept moving.
She chewed on some dried meat Jona had packed. It tasted sour when she thought of him, and the way he died. She hardly slept last night. The first time she tried, out in the woods with the horse tethered to a tree, she was awakened by a vivid nightmare of her flight from the line. The second time, she woke when Bryce Tangarth died.
She gave up trying at that point and got going for the day. She'd taken the guard's bows and arrows as well, even though she hadn't had a chance to work on her marksmanship. That was something she couldn't afford. She needed to re-learn how to shoot without her right eye.
All she could do now was move forward. She knew where she was going: the next stop on this road would be Fenel Hold. She needed to ditch the horse before she got there; it was branded with the House Narin Sigil. Even if no one knew the horse was missing, she couldn't keep it with that on it. That mark could connect her with three corpses.
For now, she had a saddle blanket over its rump, but the first thing any Legionnaire or House Guard with a brain would want is to look under it.
It was fortunate the weapons didn't have a similar mark on them. They had a maker's mark, but that was to be expected. Sherie would get rid of the ones she didn't need for coin. She should be able to get another horse for a few silver marks.
The real question for her was why do anything? What will it accomplish to go to Fenel Hold? What is her future going to be? And why does she deserve one?
Then she thought about Bryce. That big tall, beautiful man. The first and only man she had ever loved besides her father. She remembered his last wishes. She was right there with Quedesham when he fell.
"Make sure my wife and son are taken care of. And don't either of you die." The Commander had promised to take care of his wife and son, and they each told him that they wouldn't die.
Sherie had thought when she told him that she wouldn’t die, that she was lying to him.
Then Bryce Tangarth died. Tears didn't fall when she thought of it this time, even though it felt like a fire rock lodged in her chest.
She seemed to have run out of tears, finally.
Now it was time to get rid of the last thing that tied her to Vox. She dismounted when she saw a path going down the slope to the Sina River. It was a gentle enough slope that she could lead the horse down there safely.
The ground leveled out for her, and there was a thin path going parallel to the road. It was too thin for a horse to travel, but it was the last place before the ground sloped down in a sharper incline. Sherie made her way down carefully, using the thin trunked trees that grew along the riverbank here as hand holds.
It took her a bit of time, but she found herself with one foot on solid ground and holding herself with one hand above the rushing waters of the Sina River. It looked like it was a mile wide here. The rushing water was only a foot below the ground, and she carefully tested the tree's root that stuck out of the ground into the water. It seemed solid when she put the weight of her other foot on it.
Sheri drew the battered Legion short sword that had been with her for the last five days, and said, "Dad, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me... I just lost it." Tears started streaming down her face. "Jona was a lifer in the service, though. He told me that no one could have expected more of me. I believe him, but no one else is going to believe me. So fuck it. I love you, and I'm sorry." She looked at the
sword once more before she hurled it out into the river.
The weapon splashed and disappeared beneath the churning water.
She felt lighter now that she'd thrown his sword away like it weighed more than it should have. She swung around on the thin tree trunk and pulled herself back up onto solid ground.
Tuesday June 12th 1612th year of the First Great City New horizons
The last three days had been boring and slow. Sherie had slept outside when she could sleep at all. She had come across a few travelers.
She'd taken a wide berth slowly through the woods when she saw the huge human mass walking down the road ahead of her. She traveled slowly through the woods to keep the horse from breaking its leg.
Sherie could see they looked like men, women, and children. There were thousands of them.
They must have been the people they had brought out of Vox. Part of her wanted to see if her mother might be in there, but she knew she didn't dare risk it. She could imagine this mob yanking her right off of her horse, killing the horse for food and taking what little she had for themselves. She convinced herself that if her mother was in there she would have found her before. Sherie kept going as quickly as she could, and left them behind.
It seemed that word of what happened at Vox was spreading; one of the traveling merchants heading to Narin asked her about it later.
She confirmed the rumor and sold the two long swords and two bows she didn't need. She only got one silver mark for them, though; that and some bread and cheese. The way the merchant made it sound, his children were going to go hungry because of her. In the mood she was in when they were done trading, she was tempted to make sure he wouldn't have any more children.
When he asked her name, she just pulled one out of her mind without another thought. Jirai, a retired Legionnaire that had stayed at Vox to help, and paid with his life. The poor man had been cut literally in half by a Kryss right beside her. That was the same beast that had taken her eye from her.
So she used his name. It wasn't one she'd ever heard before, and it seemed like it would fit a woman as well as it did a man. If someone wanted to say something tart about it, she'd be happy to dot their eye for them.
While she knew he hadn't given her a great deal on her sales, she still warned him about the horde of refugees that was behind her on the road. She might not care for the man, but she wasn't going to let him just walk into that. He thanked her and tossed her a knit hat.
"Why a hat?" She asked.
"It's cheap, and you don't have one," he replied with a wink. "Fair enough," she thought.
Each time she stopped, she made sure to work on her marksmanship. It helped to keep her from thinking too much about Vox. She used the daggers because she didn't have to walk as far to retrieve them. Her missing eye still threw her aim off, but yesterday, she actually hit her target. It hit solidly since she knew how to throw. She hadn't been so elated with such a simple score since she'd started her Legion training.
Last night Sherie had slapped the horse's rump with her bow and sent it running north along the road. She wasn't sure how close she was to Fenel Hold, but she figured she was close enough she needed to get rid of the animal now.
When she woke before dawn, it wasn't because of a dream this time.
There were drums beating out a marching rhythm, and a rumble in the ground. She woke and hid behind a tree, and she saw a formation of at least ten-thousand House Fenel Soldiers marching northwest along Sina Road. They were headed straight for Narin Hold.
It was some comfort for her to know that they were moving soldiers now. But it was far too late for the people she had cared about. She hardened her heart when she thought of it.
There were no more tears.
Before the sun was directly overhead, Sherie reached the gates of Fenel Hold. Banners hung beside the gate with the Fenel's Sigil. Two pairs of guards were beside the gate, and archers were on the ten-yard tall walls. It seemed there was a soldier about every two yards. At the bottom of the walls were wooden stakes poking outwards from the ground at a forty-five-degree angle. They were only about a foot apart.
Sherie had never been this far south before. She wasn't at all prepared for how impressive this small City truly was. She would guess it was about one-quarter the size of Vox itself. Vox had been the first Great City; according to the Crown census, over two million people had lived there.
Before the Kryss changed all that.
According to her father, House Fenel wasn't destroyed and hadn't surrendered to the first King of the realm, the way all the others had. House Fenel instead allied with the First King and set provisions for themselves that became the foundations for the Law of Domain. Looking at the fortifications, and towers here she could believe that.
All the soldiers wore a black cloth around their left arm. Someone important must have died. Sherie walked towards the gate. The portcullis was up, and the doors were open. She saw common folks simply walking past the guards, without being stopped. Now she would find out if she was being looked for or not. It was possible no one knew she’d deserted.
When she approached the gate, they stopped her. "Halt, woman, what is your business here?" One of the male soldiers asked.
She just looked about to gauge these people. The soldier questioning her was a Corporal, just as she had been. There were three men and one woman. One other man walked forward to flank her on the left, while each of the others stood back with their hands on their daggers. Smart, she thought. The closest soldiers on the wall watched attentively.
"Is your tongue missing, woman? Answer me," he demanded impatiently.
"I'm just passing through. I'm a refugee from Vox, I'm sure you've heard what happened there. I need to buy some clothes, and a horse if I can find one," she told him.
His partner off to her left asked her, "Why do you bear so many arms, woman?"
She would have asked that if she were in their position, so she told them what she would have swallowed. "I did my time in the Legion, and I sell my sword to those who can afford it now," she told him.
"What's your name, and how old are you?" The Corporal asked her. Sherie was sure he was suspicious.
"Jirai Sonom. I'm twenty-one, I'll be twenty-two in the fall," she told them. "Actually, I'll be nineteen in the fall," she thought as her heart picked up its pace.
"What happened to your eye, ma'am?" The man on the left asked."I lost it fighting alongside the Legion while we were trying to get out of that Kryss-infested rat hole," she told him, looking at him like he was an irritant, but giving the Corporal complete respect.
"I'm guessing they would have paid to keep you there. Our Master rode there himself, and died saving what was left of those Legionnaires,” the Corporal said. She could see the anger in his eyes.
This was the best thing she’d heard in days. There were other survivors besides her. They must have held the Kryss at bay somehow.
“They were able to stop the Kryss?” She asked, completely shocked by this news.
“Aye, they were woman. It only cost our Master his life. Though I’m sure he gave it willingly to stop those foul creatures. Now why did you leave when every sword was needed?”
"I talked to their Commander about it. He couldn't even promise me pay, so I helped until it wasn't in my interests. They already got enough free fighting out of me, and when we were out, I left," she told them. Her heart was beating so fast, she felt like it might burst.
"What kind of person are you, Jirai Sonom?" The soldier on the left asked her angrily.
She yelled,"The kind that thinks giving her eye in a fight is as much as anyone can ask for!" She dropped her hand to her blades and snarled.
"Enough of this!" The Corporal commanded.
The soldier took a step back and said, "Yes, sir!" with his fist to his breast.
"Fair enough, Jirai. I will warn you that General Krosen is regent until the Mistress returns, and she will not tolerate any foolishness. I advise you to do your business
and move on quickly, there are many refugees coming by what I have been told."
She bobbed her head to the Corporal and said, "Thank you, sir. I didn't intend to linger."
"Very well, on your way then," he said with a nod.
Sherie wasn't sure if her heart was going to explode from nervousness or leap out of her chest for joy now that she was past them.
She walked along the cobbled street inside the walls and wondered where she should go. The tower attached to the wall rose indomitably behind her and cast a huge shadow. She could see a massive fortress a few miles to the west, Sherie imagined that it was the Home of House Fenel. It looked to have even more solid fortifications than the city itself.
She hailed a guardsman walking his patrol and asked him, "Sir, could you tell me where I might find a doctor?"
"Spirits woman, of course, I can." Sherie could see him looking right at the bandage over her eye. "Do you have the coin to spend on it?" He asked her. "That's an odd question," she thought. "Yes," she replied flatly.
"There's a public clinic down Freeland Street, before the public square. Freeland is the third street to the south," he gestured.
"Is there a free one, too?" She asked.
"Well, yes but you don't really want to go there for anything serious," he told her.
"Thank you, sir," Sherie said.
"Of course," the soldier said.
Sherie's heart was finally calm by the time she made it to Freeland Street. She turned down it and walked briskly, looking for the sign that would mark the clinic. It was right there, the third building on her left. It was a three story tall brick and wood house. She saw the sign with the snakes twined about a rod that doctors used as a symbol of their trade.
There were words written on the sign, but she wasn't good at reading. Sherie had never planned on applying to become an officer so it wasn't an issue most times. She knew how to sign her name, and important words, like "stop", "death" and "wanted" on sight. She didn't feel like taking the time to try to read it. It probably wasn't anything she needed to know anyway.
Fugitive: A Prequel to Spirit of Magik Page 3