Bardian's Redemption_Book Four of the Guardian's Vambrace

by H. Jane Harrington

  Kir and the warriors hacked their way through the aerial assaults with little trouble. The initial anxiety was replaced in Kir's gut with the steady ecstasy of combat; finding harmony with a sword was one of the few places she felt alive. Overall, the swarm seemed sluggish and battered already, as though they were coming from a battle, rather than heading to one. A few of the beasts were gashed up with wounds that looks hours old; several were freshly missing appendages. Quite a few flew right on by, unconcerned with their party.

  The swarm of wings and weird was not as difficult to ward off as Kir had initially expected. A quick glance back to the protection rings proved that it wasn't just the warriors that were faring well. The rest of the caravan seemed to be holding their own. They had not broken formation.

  That all changed when the wave of groundlings arrived. The kaiyo in the air were coming from one general direction. Now, they were faced with the chaos of many attackers and from multiple angles. Some of the creatures were too low-bellied or shifty to fight from the comforts of the saddle, so a quick dismount or running side-swipe was necessary. Kir was good at saddle-skirmish. She thrilled at hanging off the side of her mount to whack the beasts. The Ithinar Steel boys were just as adept at the technique.

  The long, weasel-like kamai were skilled at bringing horses down, sometimes with total amputation of legs. Their bladed fur could extend and retract rigidly from the sides and back, which made them ideal cavalry-fellers. It was too dangerous to allow the kamai near the horses. Tennras and Avalir dismounted to specialize in felling them.

  Kir continued hacking her way through the beasts from the saddle, trying to analyze each different creature for strengths and weaknesses. Knowing your enemy was the key to winning a battle. There were so many, it was difficult to keep track.

  The soochi, with a mishmash of parts, looked like a tiger with spidery legs and a baboon face. It seemed immune to Elementals but not to blades and Tennras made easy work of its belly, from stern to bow. A number of skulls spilled forth from the gutted stomach. Kir wondered how many people it had called supper.

  Another of the creatures was quite familiar to Kir. She had faced one in her first year with Master Kozias. He had bought it from a trapper and used it as a means of training, largely because it was such a good tracker. It was slightly larger than a beaver, long like a ferret, with monkey eyes and tail. It was blackish and spotted, with a thin stripe of blue hair from stern to bow. Kozias had called it a fury, and Kir had derived her favored curse from the very name of the damnable thing.

  “Wenchin furies,” Kir muttered under her breath at the sight of the pack. Rendack had made mention earlier, but to actually see them brought back a well of despised memories. A fury had caused Kir a rainbow of hurt in Kozias' training yard, until she had figured out that her fists were much more deadly than her blade. Inferno and steel would bounce right off the hide, but a well-aimed fist or foot through the weak spot at its temple would put it down. The trouble was its companion—a wispy, wind thingy that reminded Kir of the puffy inside of a cottonmouth viper's grinner. It had no eyeballs that Kir could make out, and it seemed to have a symbiotic relationship with its companion fury, where it would perch on the neck. The windy thing was able to revive a fury by blowing into its mouth. Take out the windy friendy-thing first, and a forceful fist through the skull could finish the job. Messy but effective.

  Tennras obviously didn't have the benefit of Kir's past experiences. When he took his sword to a fury's thorax, the blade pinged off. The fury knocked him flat with a powerful swipe from the neck. Kir jumped from the saddle and ran her blade through its windy partner from behind, then stepped in and delivered a solid elbow to the fury's head. It collapsed like a sack of potatoes, twitching its legs. It took a few more whacks from Kir's fist to put it down.

  “How'd you know to do that?” Tennras asked as he rolled to his feet.

  “The hard way,” Kir quipped. “They don't all have the same weakness for blades or Elementals.”

  “These kaiyo don't seem very tough on their own,” Avalir commented as he hacked at a kamai. “Not like the giant tengu birds we get in the wetlands. You can tell they're some of the lower ranked species. Third and fourth-classers.”

  “Their danger is in numbers,” Kir noted. “Try not to overdo the Elementals or you could deplete yourself against this many. I'm glad it's just the junior squad they sent. If they were second-classers, like a swarm of malcravens or gale sharks, we'd be singing a different tune.”

  “Did you notice how a lot of them are weak or injured?” Borloh called between strikes. “I think someone's been at them before us. Explains why it took them so long to get here.”

  Even though he had never faced battle before, Sorrha took to dispatching his own foes with solid kicks like he was a born warhorse. Kir didn't know if he had observed the coursers in similar action, or if he just instinctively wanted free of the kaiyo nuisance. She was proud that he had not panicked. She left him to his kick-dance and began working the groundlings from their level. Most of the other warriors were dismounting to do the same.

  Ulivall's circular twin chakram blades whirred through the air, slicing through flesh and horn before boomeranging back to his hands on the spiraling Wind Wisps that he cast with each throw. Kir had always enjoyed watching him in engagements with the unique weapons, but she had no means for distraction here.

  The swarm suddenly intensified in number as the slower waves arrived to the fray. Kir heard several screams from the circle formation. She glanced back to see dozens of knee-high creatures scampering between the legs of the Karmines, every now and then stopping to sink needle teeth into a calf muscle. They were batted away with pans and boards, but they kept coming. Corban, standing atop the chow wagon like he was the guardian of a mountain, began hurling vegetables at the heads of the little creatures to knock them over. When an eggplant went sailing to smack one between the eyes, the others turned and jumped on it like they were starving. They began fighting each other for possession, so Corban threw more eggplants to the ground for the diversion that it obviously caused.

  A lumiquid, on all sixteen tentacled legs, tumbled and rolled its way toward Kir. Before it could open its beaky mouth, she rammed her blade through the squishy, gelatinous body. The thing wasn't all that useful on a battlefield, being more of a nighttime stalker than a rumble fighter. It had some kind of bioilluminescent blood that allowed it to glow on command. Kir had seen vials of the liquid for sale at potion stands in Mercaria. The inky blood splattered Kir's vest, painting it in blue and purple splotches. They disappeared almost instantly, as if they were never there. When she jumped over the tub of snotty blubber, she noticed Rendack and Borloh a few yards beyond. They were back to back, surrounded by a hoard of angry fangs. Their blades couldn't keep up with the assault as dozens moved in. Kir screamed a feral cry and launched toward the kaiyo, drawing the attention of seven. It helped Rendack and Borloh out by bunches, but it created a whole new problem for Kir. Another large group moved in right about then, joining up with the seven and making a half-moon ring around Kir's flank.

  Normally, Kir would employ her old signature move, the Firestar, in such a situation, to take down a larger swath of foes. She hadn't been using it lately, tending more toward castings of wind than of fire. Maybe it was because she was the Little Whirlwind now, or maybe because the Kir Ithinar of old had been riding on a different passion than the Kiriana Ellesainia of today. Whatever the reason, a sudden inspiration smacked her. Kir couldn't rightly claim to be the Saiya Kunnai without being able to back it up with action. With the foes surrounding her, a circular attack would be better than a linear one. Scilio had found a way to level up his archery skills. Kir's own whirlwind would let her blade do the same.

  Rummaging up a Wind Bolt, Kir wrapped it around her arms and sword, in the same way that Scilio would attach castings to his arrows. Her feet twirled in blinding speed with the direction of the wind, spinning her like a cyclone. Th
e magic developed and ripened around her, and when it was mature, Kir released it, channeling it through her sword, her arms, even the folds of her clothes. Like blades of wind, the energy mowed down the kaiyo in a perfect circle. The creatures that were weak to Elementals sprayed blood and innards across the grass, and the ones that weren't flew backward in the powerful gale, stunned.

  The completion of the move found Kir crouched on one knee, her left hand planted for stability in the grass and her sword arm raised behind like it could touch the clouds. The move had worked. She couldn't believe her own efficiency!

  “Saiya Kunnai! What in Nomah's name did you just do?” Borloh called over the carcass he had just felled. There were several whoops and whistles from the other warriors. Obviously it had been quite the spectacle.

  “Just whisked up a new signature move, I reckon,” Kir called back as she rose.

  “What are you going to call it?” Amari grunted, plunging his blade through the over-sized eyeball of one of the kaiyo she'd knocked backward.

  “Saiya Mishina,” Copellian said from behind.

  “Whirlwind Blades,” Kir translated, bobbing her head approvingly. She and Copellian had been knocking heads over nicknames since they'd met, and she might have been tempted to argue with him here, for the privilege of naming her own move. She couldn't argue this one. It fit too well. “That's it. Saiya Mishina.”

  Copellian smirked with a self-satisfied look that seemed to suggest he'd won some game that Kir hadn't even known they had been playing.

  “Gloat now. You may have named my signature move, but don't think you're naming my firstborn,” she shot back light-heartedly.

  He answered with a blade-thrust over her shoulder, taking out a slip-stalker that had crept up for the pounce. His salute of acknowledgment was smug, and his “Yes, Highness,” was loaded with sarcasm. He bolted away to address a hoard of kamai that was menacing the horses.

  They fought on, Kir finding the Saiya Mishina to be effective but draining. For fear of depletion, she could only employ it a few times. Her heart soared every time she did.

  To her left, Avalir suddenly went down under a swarming pack of furies. Kir rushed in and ripped at the pile, dispatching them as she went. When the pack was eliminated, Kir fell to her knees at Avalir's side to examine the deep punctures and gashes about his shoulder, neck and ribs. He was clutching the deepest wounds that ribboned his chest.

  “Hold fast, Av.” Kir signed to the outer ring for a rescue team. “I'm not much of a healer, but Bertrand'll have you patched up in no time.”

  “Are we thinning the herd?” Avalir asked through grit molars. Blood seeped between his fingers.

  Kir unclipped the long sash from her vest and folded it in layers. She pressed it against the wounds as she took stock. Although the grass was littered with carcasses, there seemed to be no end. To keep Avalir's spirits up, Kir forced a grin. “Sure we are. We're gonna be eating good tonight. Hope you like roast fury cause I'm inviting them to a barbecue.”

  “I like Corban's curry better.” Avalir tried for a barking chortle that rolled into a grunt.

  Tennras found a sweet spot between the armored plates of a stocky greenish kaiyo. It took several hacks to severe the head. Seeing Avalir down, he bolted in dread, kicking up dirt in the process. He practically crashed into them as he spilled to his knees at Avalir's side.

  Tennras pulled Avalir upright, propping him against his own feather and blood-splattered chest. “I've got you,” he soothed, his voice peppered with fear.

  Kir stood over them to offer defense while they waited for the transport team to arrive. It didn't take long. As the runners whisked Avalir back to the safety of the inner rings where Bertrand waited, something caught Kir's attention. Astride a magnificent horse in the distance, a man with a visage that tweaked Kir's familiarity was sitting casually in the middle of the road, watching the battle. Kir wondered how long he had been there. He urged his mount forward at a leisurely trot. As he drew near, Kir pegged him and practically tasted her heart in her throat. It was Gensing, the Chamberlain of the Empyrean court, Soventine's second in command. Kir had known Gensing from years ago, but she had not seen him in Empyrea. Soventine had reported him tending to Crown and kaiyo matters in Arcadia. It made sense now. He had been training Soventine's kaiyo army.

  Gensing scanned the battle. His eyes were immediately drawn to Kir, probably because she was standing stock-still, staring at him. When the recognition lit his face, he looked surprised to see her. Gensing studied Kir intensely, seeming to come to some decision. He slapped his reins. He looked bound, like he was planning to rope her with the tangible cords of his delight. Kir had always appreciated Gensing's droll humor. He didn't seem entirely humored now, just driven.

  Gensing urged his mount forward with determination, and his right hand flicked in odd command. As soon as he finished the gesture, a battery of basans organized and flanked the circle, more united in purpose than they had been for the entirety of the battle. It took no amount of figuring to realize that Gensing was directing them somehow.

  So this kaiyo battalion was Alokien's doing after all. Kir hadn't expected the invitation to Alokien's arm in Empyrea to come from Gensing, but then, she hadn't expected it in the form of ribboned puppies and flowered bouquets, either.

  “Your Affianced Highness!” Gensing called over the battle roar and inhuman screeches. He raised his hands with specific motions and suddenly, the attacking kaiyo retreated to a distance, still within launch but out of immediate range. It was a welcome respite; the outer circles were looking ragged and spent.

  Kir contained her shock at the unbelievable command Gensing held over these dumb beasts. They obviously were not as brainless as she had always thought, if they were trainable. It was a deadly fault, to underestimate an opponent.

  “Chamberlain Gensing,” Kir called back. She sprang into Sorrha's saddle. “You've lowered the standards on the kind of company you're keeping these days.”

  “Saiya Kunnai, no,” Ulivall warned from behind.

  “He's inviting a parlay. Gensing's a talker, not a brawler. I'll be fine,” Kir promised. She urged Sorrha to stride and met the Chamberlain on the road ahead, some thirty yards from the front line.

  “Let us make this easy, shall we? Come quietly with His Majesty and no further harm shall assail your dear friends,” Gensing said. He threw a wary glance behind him on the road, as though gauging something.

  “If Alokien thinks sending an army of kaiyo is the polite way to ask a lady to his table, he's sorely mistaken. I may have lowered my standards on formality, but I don't take kindly to out and out rudeness.”

  Gensing seemed distracted. He was usually quick with wit, but he wasn't offering a glimpse of that here. “There really is no time for this, Highness. I would relish trading discourse with you, but such must be done on the royal airferry. Hurry along and fetch His Majesty. We must not be late to the ball.”

  “A better idea would be for you to surrender.”

  Amusement painted Gensing's face. “Surrender? Why ever would I do that?”

  “To avoid whatever it is you're running from.”

  Gensing's distraction was too obvious and he had made mention of lacking time. This battalion of kaiyo had not been meant for them—it was a coincidence that they had met on the road. If Alokien had really sent Gensing after the royal party, he would not have looked so surprised to see her, and he would have been waiting in southern Aquiline near Kestih, the most logical place for a large ship to make port near Hili. Gensing would have laid ambush and his kaiyo would not have looked so battle-worn and chewed on. He had been in Gander's Vale for another reason. It seemed that other reason had already taken him to task. It must have been a powerful force to have a fearsome kaiyo army on the run.

  Gensing betrayed a glimmer of a smile . “I remember you fondly, Kiriana. Too smart for your own good, too temperamental for Tarnavarian's. You have not changed.”

&nb
sp; “I'll take that as a glowing compliment.”

  “Forgive my impatience, but I have not had a very good day.” Gensing bowed his head like he was about to pay a tribute. His mount reared and before Kir could blink, Gensing had disappeared from the saddle. He materialized on her right, hand gripping her calf.

  Kir kicked hard, planting one right in the prow, but her foot seemed to cut through him like he was evaporating steam. She lifted in the stirrups to evaluate where he had gone. He had simply vanished like a ghost. He wasn't wearing a mage cloak, and there didn't seem to be any possible way he could have disintegrated like that.

  “Location?” Kir called.

  No one seemed to have a ready answer, though every eye was scanning frantically.

  Kir reared Sorrha back. “Where in Blazers did he go?”

  The kaiyo did not move in, still parked where they had been waiting for command. There was a raw tension that hung on the air, the silent eyes of the kaiyo and the anticipation of the unknown. Kir's heart ticked loudly in her ears.

  Her eyes had been playing tricks on her, or Gensing was. She had seen him beside her, but she had not felt his hand on her leg. Maybe he hadn't been there at all. When eyes were no use, the other senses must be heightened. Kir closed her eyes and fell into her mind, stretching out with Naturals to gauge the surroundings. A Panorama casting let her essence bleed through the world, enhancing her view on a deeper level than her eyes could. She could sense the leather of her saddle, the warm life coursing through Sorrha's veins, even the black soil below the rooted grasses: Kir absorbed the web of life and earth, scanning for the thing that didn't belong. Her mind painted a woven image, like a dimensional canvas of the energies around her. She stretched far out, expecting to find Gensing somewhere removed. Kir gasped sharply when she realized that he was right behind her. At her back. Astride Sorrha along with her! How long had he been there?