Bellica

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Bellica Page 39

by Katje van Loon


  But he'd remained true. Whether he would have, had the lady not killed herself, Mara didn't know. All she knew was that one minute Lares stood, debating, and the next he'd gone mad.

  She supposed she would, too, losing what he had lost. She watched him empty all their long-range rounds trying to destroy the ships that attacked them, and saw the ships fall behind. Then she saw the sails of the armada coming up behind them. They were doomed.

  No! They couldn't lose -- not now, not so close. Not after Lares had lost so much. Mara did not want the lady's sacrifice to be in vain.

  She ran to the fore of the ship and stood at the railing, seeing they were almost at Harbourtown harbour. Safety awaited them, if they could just gain the harbour.

  No one in Harbourtown knew what was coming, she realised with a sinking feeling in her stomach. They would be sitting ducks, open to the attack that was coming. They had to be warned, or Harbourtown could be destroyed.

  She glanced at the crew. No one else had realised this. She looked north, to the cliff face on the edge of town that held the Bell. The rope hung down the cliff side, reaching a ledge of rock at sea level. It waited for someone to pull it, to warn the town. She looked at the distance between the ship and the rope. It was long. But she could swim it.

  She glanced at Merry, and as if he felt her gaze, he looked up. She could see in his eyes that he saw what she meant to do.

  "Mara! Nay!" he shouted, but she ignored him.

  She took a deep breath and jumped over the edge of the ship, diving into the icy water. The shock of the cold water against her warm skin nearly made her heart stop. She floundered a moment, and then she was swimming with all her might towards the cliff face and the Bell-pull.

  The Vocan ship to their port side had fallen back before, but still Mara swam as quickly as possible to avoid getting hit.

  Cries reached her ears from Merry's ship, begging her to come back. She pushed them aside and kept on swimming, despite her fear. She was terrified: the water close to shore was much safer. Deep water held creatures she'd rather not meet. She kept on. Anala needs me. Lares needs me.

  Soon the cries from the ship became shouts of encouragement, and she felt her strength and courage pick up. She swam faster, focused on reaching the ledge. She heard Lares shout, then, "Mara! You can do it! Do it for her!" and she put on a burst of speed. She did not know which her he meant, but it did not really matter. She was almost there.

  She was shaking with cold by the time she gained the rope and the rocky ledge at the sea's surface. She levered herself up with the rope and when she stood, soaking and shaking on the rock, she pulled down on the tar-covered twine with all her might.

  Slowly, inexorably, it moved down, and then she felt the moment when the Bell was on its side. The momentum then carried the Bell to the other side, and the rope flew up as the giant metal piece swung the other way, carrying the light Mara with it. Unable to hold on, she dropped to the rock ledge, hard, where she lay, stunned.

  The BONG BONG BONG of the Bell rang throughout the town, and the rocks of the cliff face. It reverberated throughout Mara's body and made her teeth vibrate together.

  She'd done it. I warned 'em, she thought happily, and then all she knew was blackness.

  Eorl Gray

  Audrey Gray's head snapped up at the sound of the Bell. Harbourtown was under attack.

  Without missing a beat, the former bellica got up from her desk and began barking orders.

  "Timothy!" she shouted, and her personal assistant appeared at her side instantly. "Send a detachment down to the Bell-pull -- make sure whoever's there is okay." The man disappeared again, quick to do her bidding.

  Next she found her Captain of the Guard, already heading to the barracks. "Deploy your women throughout the city -- martial law is effective as of now. I want every civilian safe! Get the regiments ready for battle -- send the Fifteenth on the merc ships; the rest to the town."

  He nodded shortly. "Payment for the mercs?" he asked, and she cursed inwardly. It was such a stupid system they had in Harbourtown! She kept on asking the Empress for something else, for her own standing navy that was not dependent on a monetary contract, but the woman ignored her every time.

  "Promise them whatever they want -- after we live through this. It's an emergency. Harbourtown must be protected!"

  The Captain nodded again and went to follow her orders. Audrey headed to her chambers, where she quickly donned her bellica's armor. It had been a long time, but she slid into the leather mail easily, and strapped on her sword without fumbling. She grabbed her crossbow and went to join the troops.

  As she stepped outdoors and headed down, to the harbour entrance, she saw the armada that approached the town, and the ship it was chasing. She shook her head. Trust Merry to bring trouble to my door.

  The fourteenth and thirteenth regiments were already in place, lined up around the harbour, protecting the entrances to the town. She went and stood beside Bellica Agate, gave the woman a nod, and readied her crossbow.

  Attack my town, will you? she thought, looking at the approaching Vocan ships. A smile took her face. She'd not had a good fight in years. She'd have to thank Merry for bringing the Vocan scum in range of her arrows but only after scolding him for bringing danger to her people.

  That could wait. Right now, the only thought that occupied her mind was spilling Vocan blood. The sea would be pretty in purple -- and she was sure the sharks were hungry.

  Desdemona

  Desdemona woke from her sleep with a gasp, clutching at her heart.

  The organ twisted in pain, feeling a phantom knife miles away.

  She closed her eyes, tears running down her face. She knew, already, what was happening on the other side of Athering, for all that she resided in Nighttide with her Lady now. She could feel it as closely as her sheets and blanket.

  She fell back down to her bed and let the tears come, sobbing out her denial and anguish.

  Hope. No!

  Magea Rosa

  Magea Rosa woke from sleep as the reverberation hit her. A wave of pain washed over her, like ocean water, and she reeled in her tower room.

  Stretching out mental tendrils, she saw the watery wall around Mt. Voco was gone, and instantly realised what must have happened.

  There had been a Magi -- part-Magi, to judge by the relative weakness of the wave she'd felt -- on Mt. Voco. Now that Magi was dead.

  All the Magi were connected -- or had been. When one Magi died, the pain spread throughout the population, hitting those with a personal connection to the now-dead one the hardest. No single Magi was ever unaware of a friend or lover's death. As she was one of the last full Magi left, she felt quite a bit of pain. She knew when each of her friends had died, after they'd split up so many millennia ago, the only six of their kind left after the Wars that had shook their people. Satrah and Tmetsis had gone first -- found by Terrans, chased to the now aptly named Cliffs of the Magi. The rocks below had broken them. She'd seen it from her safety in Tirth Huantair, at the scrying device in the empty Kernornian school. She'd not known the manner of the others' deaths, for she'd not been at the scrying device. But she'd felt them -- next had been Melcynon, nearly three thousand years after Satrah and Tmetsis. Another thousand claimed Ajnha.

  That left just herself and Corinus. She'd felt better for the fact that her wing-brother was still alive, even if to be together would be dangerous. Besides -- he looked too much like his brother, and to look upon Ather's face still brought her pain. To know he was alive had been enough.

  Now she was not so sure. It had been 300 years since she'd been awake to feel anything, and in that time a new race of Magi-Terran had sprung up. Or was it here before, and I just hadn't noticed?

  No, she would have -- if by nothing else but the deaths of the part-Magi, for she was sure they were not as long-lived as her kind. So at some point in the past three hundred years Corinus had successfully started a new race of their kind and the kind of their erstwhile enem
ies. How had he done it? Was he still alive for her to ask?

  She wished she knew. All she knew now was whoever had just died was not full Magi, but one of Corinus'...children, she supposed. No wonder she loved Ghia so much in so short a time -- the girl was as good as her niece.

  She shook her head, clearing her mind of her thoughts. Right now she could see the events unfolding in Harbourtown, and knew she had to contact the part-Magi healer. She'd speculate later.

  Rosa! said the girl in relief when Rosa touched her mind. I just felt the strangest thing -- like a wave of cold water knocked me off my feet and froze my heart. What happened?

  Quickly Rosa explained, and she heard Ghia's mental gasp. Is Anala well? the healer asked, worry gripping her tone.

  Anala is alive, but she is losing the fight. She's in Harbourtown now -- they've gotten her to a clinic, but the healers there will not be able to help. I'll do what I can from Atherton, but get there as soon as you can, Ghia.

  I'm on my way, Ghia responded, and then the girl was gone from their contact.

  Rosa turned her attention to the bellica in Harbourtown. She found the store of healing energy Ghia'd left the woman, nearly depleted by its effort to keep Anala from death. Rosa filled it again, and a strange power rose up, meeting her in hostility and anger.

  It was Anala's Magi-self, finally fully awakened. Rosa greeted it and told it she meant no harm. Anala's Magi-self subsided and went back to guarding the bellica.

  Rosa withdrew, mentally drained and confused. Ghia's Magi-self was Aiprorian -- air-bound, which made sense if Corinus was the progenitor of the Magi-Terrans. Elements brought forth their own elements, in Magi procreation -- earth from earth, air from air. There was no blending.

  Anala's Magi-self was impossible. How did fire and water mix at all, let alone with Magi powers? How on Cora did that come from an Aiprorian?

  Or had Satrah and Tmetsis also contributed to this strange new breed? No, that was impossible. Magi-Terrans would have to be several thousand years old for that to be possible, and Rosa knew they'd only been around for the time of her half-life.

  Magi could propagate only their own elements. At least, she thought that was the case. Would she and Ather have created a new race with their brood -- a blend of Air and Earth? She didn't know. He'd died before she could find out.

  Maybe there was something in Terrans -- some unknown variable. There were probably a lot of unknown variables with the younger, alien species. Maybe Magi could propagate only their own element, but some twist in the Terran genotype had created the fire-water mix in Anala?

  She put aside her musings for later. She'd have to examine the bellica upon her return.

  Right now she was going to allow herself to mourn for the death of her unknown relative. She'd never let a single known Magi death pass without mourning, and she was not going to start now.

  Caelum

  Caelum loved to watch Yarrow work. Especially when that work was calling errant soldiers to duty.

  Something she'd not had to do much of, he reflected thankfully; so he doubly enjoyed the show now.

  Lieutenant James quivered in Yarrow's grip as she pushed him against the wall harder.

  "What's the deal, James? Don't tell me you forgot leave was over -- you wouldn't have run from me if that were the case," she snarled at him. It was true. James had spotted Yarrow and Caelum coming down the street and bolted. Unfortunately for him, Yarrow was a faster runner.

  James struggled in Yarrow's grasp and she slammed him against the wall again, her nails digging into his throat. "Have I been so bad a bellica that you felt the need to desert, Lieutenant?"

  "No," gasped James. His face was turning interesting colours. "'s not you I'm running from, Bellica."

  Caelum almost laughed at the look on Yarrow's face. "You're running from Caelum?"

  From anyone else, Caelum might have felt insulted. As it was, it was all he could do to keep from laughing himself.

  Apparently James felt the same way. His face twisted in mirth once, convulsively, before he sobered and shook his head. "No, Bellica. I no longer wish to serve the Empress." He went limp, as if he expected Muerta to take him for his treacherous words.

  There was a very still silence, and then Yarrow released the man. He slid down the wall and nearly fell to the ground, but regained himself in time.

  "You serve me, soldier. No one else."

  Caelum drew in his breath, acutely aware of what Yarrow really said. James wasn't, for Caelum could see the questions on the lieutenant's face. Yarrow was already walking away, her job finished; Caelum gave her the signal to return to the tavern as he appeared beside Lt. James and put his arm around the man's shoulders.

  "No questions, Lieutenant. Not till we leave." He glared at the man and to his surprise, Lieutenant James nodded and saluted.

  "Yes, sir."

  Caelum gave a brisk nod and pushed the lieutenant off in the direction of the tavern. The man's questions couldn't be answered now anyway -- not until Caelum and Yarrow had had a little chat about treason.

  Jules

  Two days after the bar fight, Jules felt much better, no doubt thanks to Ghia's care of him before she left.

  He missed her bright presence already, but refused to show it. He'd had enough teasing from his superiors that night already, and didn't want to give Caelum and Yarrow any excuses to rag him.

  Sighing, he left the tavern for some fresh air. It was silly to dwell on it anyway -- he'd see her in a few days, for the rest of them would leave on the morrow. She'd be just fine. His stomach clenched as all the things that could happen to her on the road ran through his head.

  Just. Fine.

  Forcing himself to think happy thoughts, he walked the length and breadth of Mudflat, getting used to exercise again after his bed rest. It wouldn't be too hard -- he'd not been out for very long. A day of hard riding would set him to rights, he was sure.

  His arm felt great, and he thought he could probably take the bandage off already. If he did and it became infected, however, Ghia would kill him. Anyway, his left arm was too precious to him for him to be reckless with it.

  Reaching the end of the town, he turned into the alleyways to find his way back. The alleys in Mudflat were a veritable maze, but there was nowhere you couldn't go in them. They were a staging ground for the small shows played out by the criminal underground in Mudflat. Not that they were very far underground. There was nothing clandestine about them.

  Deep in the alleys he rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop at the sight of his bellica in front of him. She reclined against the wall almost casually, her eyes lazily following him. Jules was too smart to believe in her apparent nonchalance.

  "Ma'am," he said cautiously.

  She inclined her head. "CMO Jules."

  A long silence passed, Yarrow giving him a searching look. He stopped himself from fidgeting uncomfortably.

  At length she shrugged and nonchalantly examined her fingernails. Jules felt a frisson of unease run down his spine. No one with any sense relaxed when Yarrow seemed at ease.

  "You see a lot of things, don't you, Jules."

  It wasn't a question, but Jules found himself answering anyway. "Aye, Bellica. I'd like to think I'm observant."

  "Observant." A longer pause, and Jules couldn't stop his fidgeting now. "Good quality to have in certain professions." Her eyes flew to his, her gaze almost cutting him with its sharpness.

  The purpose of this meeting became apparent to Jules. He squared his shoulders and set his jaw, staring at his bellica determinedly. "A good quality to have as CMO, yes. If what you were suggesting were true, don't you think I would have reported long before now?" Though in truth he couldn't fault her her suspicions, it still angered him to have his loyalties called into question.

  "I wouldn't know, Jules," she shot back breezily, her expression level as she cleaned under her nails with her dagger. "How your kind operates is not something I acquaint myself with."

  Ou
tright accusation. He almost couldn't believe it. "I would think a bellica should be aware of how her Chief Medical Officer operates -- I assume that's what you meant by 'my kind'." He glared at her and got one in return -- it should have put him in his place but Jules was tired of this game already. "If you'll excuse me, Ma'am," he said, moving to go around her.

  Like lightning her hand landed flat against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "I won't. I need something more solid than words, Jules. Prove your allegiance to me."

  And commit treason against the Sceptre? Juno. Some choice. Not that I have one, anyway. He stepped back, arms open, feeling defeated before the test began. "What would you have me do?"

  Her eyes flickered, focusing on something behind Jules. He spun to find Caelum.

  Trapped.

  "There's a traitor in my regiment, Jules, but it is not you," came Yarrow's voice from behind him. "Kill the real traitor. Prove your loyalty."

  Jules went cold. His stomach dropped and he felt like throwing up. He knew who, of course. He couldn't not know who it was. He asked her anyway, desperately wanting to be wrong.

  "Who is the traitor, Bellica?"

  A pause. "He stands before you."

  "How am I supposed to pledge myself to my bellica by killing her major?"

  "Because she ordered you to. That should be enough, CMO Jules."

  A wave of nausea hit Jules as he grimaced and drew his sword. He didn't want to kill Caelum -- for all the major's faults, Jules liked the man. Maybe it wouldn't matter. The sword was heavy in his arm and the skin and stitches around his nearly-healed wound pulled tight. Why did it have to be the left arm? Fortuna, why have you forsaken me?

  He nodded at Caelum, who appeared strangely calm. "Nothing personal, Sir."

 

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