“Lee!” She called and pointed to the enemy King. Brandt smiled at her and together they began working their way toward the positional flag. It took several minutes of hard fighting but then suddenly the way parted and the King’s immediate group of guards was there in front of them. Two of the mounted knights charged Brandt, who looked much more imposing than the slender woman fighter who was approaching their King. de Baard let them pass without going to the aid of her current lover. If he died she would not miss him. He was beginning to become a nuisance in any case.
She did not even look back as the knights charged past her, instead she kept advancing toward the King of the Deutzani. Another knight stepped his mount in front of her as she approached to within fifty feet. He looked at her wildly, his eyes revealing that he knew the battle was going very badly. He charged her but with lithe movements she dove aside and rolled quickly to her feet. The knight continued to run away as if the horse’s momentum forced them both to retreat toward the river.
“M’lord!” Ja Brude yelled when he spotted the Executioner’s approach. But before the King could turn de Baard broke into a run, covering the remaining distance quickly. She was within fifteen feet; running at full speed, when the King finally saw her and his eyes flew wide with recognition.
“You!” He shouted just as she leaped. In midair she knocked aside his large axe and then buried her right kali into his neck. She landed quite softly, straddling his horse backward, and let out a cry of triumph. Her face was only inches from his, and she watched as his eyes fluttered momentarily from the shock and pain. After a brief moment Arsinol’s eyes widened, betraying his fear. In desperation he tried to strike at her again, but she was very close and his axe was too unwieldy and heavy. She easily caught his wrist in her hand and held it until she felt his strength begin to weaken. His eyes closed and his axe dropped to the ground. She released him just as his eyes opened once more. He gazed at her, perplexed and then he tried to speak, but blood poured from his mouth. She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the nose then shoved him from the horse. He landed with a thud in the mud and gore of the oxbow.
Still sitting backward de Baard laughed, and then glanced about for any other threats, but the King’s advisor and a half dozen other enemy horsemen were charging hard toward the river. She gracefully slipped around in the saddle. Lee Brandt was still fighting, swinging his mighty sword, fending off one of the knights who fought on despite being abandoned by his nearest countrymen. Brandt was nearly fifty yards away and his back was to her, of Krys, de Baard saw no sign. She was about to guide the horse in Brandt’s direction when out of the corner of her eye she saw the whore, riding and fighting near Prince Gwaynn.
The red-haired slut was nearly a hundred yards away but de Baard automatically turned the horse and moved toward her. She’d not made it half way before a Deutzani knight charged her, spear aimed directly at her chest. She parried it just as the tip caught her right breast. She felt a slice of pain then lashed out, raking the man’s arm as he rushed past. de Baard continued on, glancing down to check her wound, which appeared superficial, and then over her shoulder to see if the enemy knight was engaged with another, but he turned and was now coming back after her. de Baard cursed and swung her horse around just in time for the animal to catch the full point of the spear in its broad chest. The force of the blow knocked the horseman off his saddle, but his weight and momentum drove the spear deep the animal’s chest. The wounded horse reared up, but toppled over sideways as de Baard jumped free. She was on her feet in an instant, walked calmly over to the dazed knight and slit his throat before he was even aware of the danger.
‘The whore!’ de Baard thought and spun around. Samantha was a mere twenty yards away but surrounded by Massi foot soldiers. Without thinking, without looking about, de Baard drew her poisoned needle knife, the only weapon that could reach the girl from this distance, and threw. Though the girl was far away and moving, de Baard could tell that her aim was true and that the knife would find its intended target. The knife flew as if drawn to the girl, straight and true like a young groom to the crotch of his new wife.
de Baard smiled. Now she would have Gwaynn.
ǂ
“To the King! To the King!” The Massi cavalry soldiers around Gwaynn yelled as they rushed to cover his fall. Gwaynn hobbled to his feet, confused. At first he thought his men had spotted King Arsinol’s banners and were mounting an attack, but as they circled about he realized they were calling for him. As the horses and men packed in around him, they jockeyed for position trying to defend him from the enemy. But as they moved and shifted about, Gwaynn found himself in far more peril from being kicked or trampled than he ever was from being sword cut. Gwaynn struggled to free himself from the confining circle of horseflesh, but each way he moved a horse shifted to block the opening, most often the soldier and horse moved through instinct, working to close up ranks rather than knowingly blocking Gwaynn’s path. Gwaynn pushed close to a big roan and craned his neck, looking for Samantha. She was near and appeared to be in no immediate danger. She looked briefly his way and then turned back to the task of firing arrows, one after another.
“Make way,” Gwaynn shouted and at first was ignored, but gradually the heavy fighting shifted away from his position and he was allowed free of the circle. One man held out Eve’s reins to him. She seemed fine; the spear point hit the leather strap of her armor but had not penetrated deeply into her flesh. Gwaynn smiled and patted her neck before struggling back up into the saddle. He looked to Samantha but she was farther away, still fighting and moving with another group of Massi cavalry. He spurred toward her just as Bull dodged another horse, then kicked his hind legs out suddenly and screamed as only a horse can. He bucked again, and then reared. So sudden and unexpected was the movement that it was Samantha’s turn to be thrown from the saddle.
“No!” he heard her cry and then she hit the ground and was still.
ǂ
Lonogan Bock hacked and stabbed, sliced and cut his way through the ranks of the enemy. Side by side he fought with the tough, experienced, hard-fighting Toranado foot soldiers. Occasionally he caught sight of Tabernas, the Weapons Master. The man seemed to have endless energy. Bock was growing tired, his sword arm felt like lead and several times he praised the training Gwaynn had given him with the heavier practice weapons. Without the added strength he’d gained, he would have weakened long before, weakened just like the Deutzani soldiers he was fighting now.
The Massi were winning. He could feel it. Once the Deutzani cavalry fell, their odds of success increased many times. Even now, as they forced their way farther and farther north plowing through the enemy ranks through sheer force, he could feel the Deutzani beginning to lose heart. He fought on through his exhaustion even when he felt he could not deal out another blow.
And then suddenly, it happened. The Deutzani lines fell apart as they were continually pressed from all sides and they panicked. The battle quickly turned into a rout, but even then it still took several hours of fighting to destroy all the pockets of resistance. It is hard work, killing an army of forty thousand. In the end though, some of the enemy escaped by braving the strong current of the river. How many, no one could really say, but from the looks of the bloody landscape within the oxbow, it was very few.
When Lonogan finally caught sight of Krys he felt a wave of relief mixed with affection for the talented young man. Krys’ hair was dark and matted to his head with sweat; the day was very warm. Bock moved in his direction, occasionally stopping to end the life of a wounded Deutzani soldier, but Krys was moving away, toward Gwaynn, who was kneeling on the ground cradling the body of a girl.
Bock rushed forward as quickly as his tired body could go and arrived just after Krys. They looked at one another with concern and then down at Samantha, just as her eyes fluttered open.
She frowned, looking up at them and then focused on Gwaynn.
“What…what happened?”
Gwaynn sighed with r
elief and looked up at those around him, eyes moist with emotion.
“You were thrown,” he said and pulled Samantha gently up to a sitting position.
She rubbed her head a moment.
“A needle knife!” She cried out just as a Toranado soldier appeared, holding the weapon out for Gwaynn’s inspection.
“Your horse is dead,” the soldier said simply.
“A needle knife!” Krys exclaimed and snatched the weapon from the man’s hand. Everyone knew the poison needle knife was a favorite weapon of the Sinis Executioners.
“Deutzani scum,” Bock said looking about for one of the black robed fiends. But by now there was no one left standing but Massi and Toranado soldiers.
“Look sharp men,” he said as Phillip and Tabernas moved over to join them. “Find the Executioner…or his body if he’s dead.”
Dozens of men immediately went off to do his bidding. Most were hoping for souvenirs, looking to help themselves to some of the more bizarre weapons the Tars from Sinis were known to carry.
“Arsinol is dead,” Krys said as if he were just now starting to believe it. “Cyndar killed him…you should have seen her, jumped in his saddle and cut his throat.” He glanced about for the beautiful girl, but did not see her in the crowd that was starting to gather around them.
“I’m fine,” Samantha finally said and allowed Gwaynn to help her to her feet. They looked around, surveying the death and gore that surrounded them, then they looked at each other and the joy of life swept through them both.
Phillip raised his arms to the sky, grinning and crying at the same time.
“Victory!” he shouted in triumph and grabbed Gwaynn, lifting him into the air, while Bock did the same to Samantha. They all shared in their relief and delight at being alive and seeing so many others also alive. Those still breathing were overcome with happiness at their own good fortune. The battle was over and they were alive and would live another day. Their happiness was all encompassing and a wave of gratitude swept through all those still standing, gratitude for the wounded, and for the dead. Gwaynn celebrated with Samantha, and Krys and Prince Phillip.
They were triumphant…they were all triumphant!
XVI
“We searched the bodies, but found no evidence of an Executioner among them. No weapons and no robes,” Bock said late one night nearly a week after the battle. There was a large ongoing effort to gather the bodies of the enemy dead, strip them of anything useful, and then pile them up for burning. With over thirty-five thousand Deutzani dead, it was a massive undertaking. Near the end, the battle turned into a slaughter and by all accounts only a few thousand enemy soldiers escaped the trap. Daily parties of Massi cavalry were sent out to hunt down any Deutzani that remained in the immediate area. Few where found. The six thousand Massi and Toranado deaths were handled with much more sensitivity.
“No robes,” Gwaynn replied, more a statement than a question. “Did anyone report seeing an Executioner among the Deutzani?”
Bock shook his head and took a loud sip of tea. It was hot outside, summer arriving in full force after the rains, but they were cooler within the depths of the mill.
“Arsinol’s last Weapons Master was an Executioner, wasn’t he?” Phillip asked lounging in an overstuffed chair near the cold fireplace. He was relaxing while he could, since he and all the Toranado would be leaving for the Scar Gap the following morning.
Gwaynn nodded and glanced at Krys and gave a slight shake of the head, indicating that he did not want it common knowledge that it was he who had killed Navarra. Word was spreading of course, but it would not do so with his help.
“Could it be possible we have an Executioner in our midst?” Tabernas asked from where he stood, leaning against the lone window in the room. He’d noticed the silent communication that had taken place between the Massi Prince and his Weapons Master, and guessed at the reason. He would not be surprised to find that it was Gwaynn who killed the former Deutzani Executioner. He certainly had the skill, though Navarra came with an awesome reputation of his own. If it were so, it would only build on the growing legend of the young Prince, but if Gwaynn wanted it quiet Tabernas would respect his wishes.
“An Executioner among us?” Samantha asked, clearly alarmed. It was a question they’d all asked themselves but as yet no one mentioned the possibility aloud. Of course Samantha had her own special reasons to feel uneasy.
Tabernas nodded his head. “It’s been known to happen. It’s said that to get their kill, some Executioners will embed themselves so close to their target that the family of the victim would not believe it…even after the fact.”
Samantha shuddered but said nothing. Gwaynn, who was standing behind the desk chair she was sitting in, placed his hands on her shoulders to calm and reassure her.
“It’s something we must consider,” Gwaynn said. “I think we should continue with the belief that we do in fact have an Executioner somewhere close.”
“Do you truly think it possible?” Bock asked, having trouble believing such a thing.
“Yes, it’s possible.” Samantha stated with conviction. She thought back to Navarra and his unrelenting chase. “When they are after a kill, they will never give up, never yield.”
“Well,” Krys said simply. “Who’s shown the skill?”
Gwaynn shook his head. “I doubt very much an Executioner would let us see their full abilities. It would give them away almost immediately.”
“You respect their skill that much?” Tabernas asked, surprised. He was of the opinion, as were most trained by the Tars on Noble, that the men from Sinis, though well trained were easily inferior to any Weapons Master. If Gwaynn thought otherwise he would have to alter his perceptions.
Gwaynn nodded.
“Who has the skill?” Krys repeated, looking directly at Gwaynn.
Gwaynn shrugged. “You do…and Tabernas, possibly Bock.” He remained silent for a long moment. “Maybe Lee Brandt…”
“I’ve known him for over ten years,” Bock said in the man’s defense.
“The only other person who comes to mind is Cyndar Huntley,” Gwaynn added, remaining purposefully silent to see how the others would react. From behind he did not see Samantha scowl at the name…but in the end she remained silent.
Krys shook his head. “Emm saw her raped by Deutzani soldiers,” he said simply, dismissing her out of hand. She certainly had skill enough, but he could not believe she was an Executioner.
“Her brother was also killed at the hands of the Deutzani,” Phillip added. “Hell, she killed Arsinol.”
“And she is far too lovely to be a heartless killer,” Tabernas said with a smile, and Samantha’s scowl deepened. She crossed her arms over her chest as every man in the room considered the beautiful Cyndar Huntley.
“Did anyone think to ask her if she noticed anything?” Krys suddenly asked. “Didn’t you say the knife came from the direction of the Deutzani King?” He added looking from Samantha to Gwaynn and back.
Samantha nodded. “It came from her direction,” she said, tilting her head, considering the possibility that the woman might be her enemy in more ways than one.
Gwaynn frowned. “Is she here?”
Bock shook his head. “She’s out scouting with Brandt and Gaston. I was going to make her a Captain,” he added simply.
Tabernas nodded, but Krys just raised his eyebrows though he said nothing. He was beginning to hold Bock’s organizational skills in high regard. The man knew how to assess and distribute talent, and the woman did have skill.
“You do what you think is best,” Gwaynn added. He’d never truly questioned Cyndar’s loyalty. He remembered her warm touch, her kiss and the smell of her. He clearly remembered the naked desire in her eyes that night in the tent. She wanted him, he had no doubt, but he was not about to bring their encounter up in Samantha’s company. She had it in for the woman enough as it was…and then another thought came to him.
“The doctor was killed…” he spok
e aloud, absently, not truly addressing anyone. “The same night Sath went missing,” he continued, this time addressing Krys and Bock directly.
Both nodded.
“Did anyone think to look for a small wound on Sath?” Gwaynn asked. “The wound of a needle knife?”
No one spoke. Sath’s body had been in the water for a long time by the time it was discovered and brought into camp, a wound from a needle knife would have been nearly impossible to find…it would have taken a doctor.
“Shit!” Bock said loudly, and no one argued with the sentiment.
ǂ
All through the day Cyndar cursed herself for her lack of patience and folly, all her training forgotten in the heat of battle. She was disgusted with herself. It didn’t help that all she’d attained for her stupidity was the aroused suspicion of her targets, a lost needle knife and a dead horse.
Her mood was not improved by Lee Brandt’s fawning. The man was as giddy as a schoolboy, so much so, that Cyndar wondered if he’d ever really dabbled between the legs of a woman before. It would reinforce her lack of judgment if she somehow found and seduced the largest virgin in the country. She guessed it served her right for being such a wanton hussy for Gwaynn Massi. Even now just the thought of the young Prince caused her to grind her crotch against the pommel of her saddle.
Lee glanced at her and smiled. Cyndar put on her best fake smile in return.
‘I will enjoy killing you…but first I’ll cut off your cock,’ she thought and her smile widened and turned genuine.
They were riding northeast with nearly two hundred other cavalrymen, spread out over nearly a half a mile. They were combing the countryside for straggling Deutzani soldiers attempting to flee to Solarii to join with Prince...now King Arden.
Assassin of the Heart: Book Two: The Temple Islands Series Page 35