by Billy Wong
He laughed. "You'd want to cheat against them like that? From what I've seen, you hardly need help for those types."
"Victor has Clearsky. That's about as cheating as it gets. Besides, just because I'm tough doesn't mean I don't get scared."
"You need to learn to get scared less. The degree you do isn't really appropriate for your level of warrior."
Rose felt angry that he seemed to still be taking things lightly. "For gods' sake just be careful, okay? Don't go picking fights with the big guys if you can help it."
"I'm bigger than both of them." He saw from her face she didn't find it at all funny, and added in a soothing voice, "I'll be careful. Good night."
As he snored, she thought about the fact he hadn't agreed to both her requests. The next day, she watched with misty eyes while he left. A few minutes later, she got up, her innards burning with agony, and followed him out.
#
She sought out Alicia and Brandon in a hurry, and they eagerly joined her—the duchess because it'd been her idea, the count because he never refused Rose a thing but to leave her alone when asked. They found Finn taking on all comers in the thick of the battle soon enough, and as they fought to his side he stared at Rose. "What are you doing? Those wounds would be a death sentence for anyone else, and you're going to fight?"
"I've fought with terrible wounds before."
Finn gently touched her face. "Yeah, but that was mostly when you got wounded in a fight and had to go on. You've got to rest. I can see such pain in your eyes."
She smiled. "I'm in tons of pain. But what I'm doing isn't any more of a death sentence than your stupid plan."
"So these two highborn goofs are going to help us fight?"
Brandon spat and threatened jokingly, "You ought to be nicer to me, or I might tell on you."
"I already told," Finn said in a flat voice.
Rose sighed. "We're going to have some legal problems when this war's over, aren't we?" But then, they were used to nonstop trouble. "I'm going to help you whether you like it or not. I love you, and I and our children both need you. You're not allowed to throw your life away."
"In case you're wondering," Alicia said, "I'm just here to kick Victor's ass."
Brandon studied her. "So you're the infamous mercenary duchess Alicia. You look nice."
"Aren't you married?"
Rose rolled her eyes. "It didn't stop him that I was married. You better watch out there, Crimson Boar."
"Don't worry. I'll bed any man I please, and it's not like I expect exclusivity."
Finn looked awfully worried as they made their way back to the front, the lines having moved forward while they stopped to talk. Rose sympathized. It was the same kind of worry she'd felt for him when he announced his desire to fight the princes. "Let's just do this, Finn. We'll laugh about our silly fears when it's over." If they didn't die first.
The foursome wreaked havoc among the enemy, killing hundreds of soldiers while staying a fair ways away from the much-diminished Ulir mages still on the field. They weren't the objective this time. Rose and Brandon's swords cut down man after man, Finn's mace shattered bones like glass, and Alicia's axe hewed fully armored warriors clean in half. Then Rose spotted the tall princely pair doing much the same, the dark-haired Coblander and the brown-bearded traitor of Kayland demolishing every foe in sight. She gritted her teeth, knowing none of them would likely leave this fight unmarked. Victor saw her group coming, and the princes along with their nearest allies were all too happy to meet them.
Rose lost track almost immediately of her friends and husband, the enemy rush filling her vision and ringing steel her ears. Her sword hacked about her front and sides, slaying men with ease though each stroke filled her body with pain. She looked around, got a brief view of Wilner driving Alicia back like she was a rank amateur. Prince Victor's burly form burst into her vision, trident streaking at her like a white ray of light.
Her sword came up, knocking the thrusting points aside, and she slashed at his head. He caught her blade between his tines, but she hit them with her shield and knocked him back a step. His face dropped out of sight, his leg passed below her feet as she jumped over his sweep. He blocked her downward chop with Clearsky's haft, pushed her forcefully away. The trident began to crackle with electricity. She hadn't seen this before.
He came on hard and she backpedaled away, even defending causing her severe pain both from her old wounds and the brief shocks that came each time their weapons touched. Nonetheless, she shouted magic words which enveloped her own sword in a coat of red-hot flames and redoubled her efforts.
Victor frowned at her tenacity just before she ducked to the right to stab at his armpit. He spun to meet her, deflecting her sword and then smashing Clearsky's butt into her cheek. It felt like a lightning bolt blasted her in the face, and flesh sizzled close to her ear. She landed on her back, gasping at the combined agony of all her hurts.
Victor stabbed down at her, catching her in the chest. The current poured into her, and she screamed. But she'd wedged her sword between the tines against the bar from which they extended, keeping the trident from penetrating more than an inch or so into her flesh. But it was difficult to hold back while getting electrocuted. He pressed down with all his weight, trying to push it in.
She screamed as it started to dig deeper into her, desperately heaved with all her strength. The tines tore free of her body, exiting out the holes in her armor. She wrenched up and to the left, jerking Clearsky out of her way. Before Victor could recover, she brought the sword back around and slashed him down the thigh. She inflicted a long and fairly deep wound, and he staggered back a step as his underpants caught flame. He patted them out, staring furiously into her eyes.
"Why do you fight so hard against me?" he asked. "I only want my rightful place, and hate watching all these countrymen die! What is it you despise so much about the idea of having me for a ruler, that you would justify all this death to deny me?"
Rose was surprised by how genuine he sounded, and replied not without doubt, "You never seemed to care if people suffered for your sake. You kidnapped Evan and made him a slave, had your co-conspirators silenced to cover your tracks after trying to cast the baby king into obscurity, and almost certainly murdered your brother Lawrence. And now you presume to care if your countrymen die?"
He shook his head. "Those were individuals who stood in my way, and I deal with those as I must. But all this death overwhelms me, I can't stand to see so many of my own people die. It tears me apart that I must do this."
She believed him, but that didn't make him right. There were degrees of evil, and Victor might not be completely devoid of virtuous qualities—compassion, in this case. But he was bad enough that she wouldn't accept him. "There shouldn't be a minimum number of people who must suffer before you feel pity. Sierra deserves the regency more than you ever did. She's a true good woman, who wouldn't even harm one person if she could help it."
He advanced again, stabbing like a tempest. She deflected most of his blows and struck back, their magically charged blades flashing brighter than the noon sun. She cut him over the elbow and he jumped back, bent his knees and jabbed low as she followed. Rose twisted to the side, parrying his thrust hard enough to make him take a clumsy step away. He bared his teeth. "I wouldn't kill anyone if I didn't have to. But I will have what I deserve, as mine! You've killed thousands. What makes you so different?"
Sometimes, she wondered. Were all the enemies she'd fought so wrong, that it would be truly unacceptable for them to succeed? For some, the answer had surely been yes. She couldn't have let Justin murder her kids, or the man-dragon kill her and Finn. But she wasn't so certain with regard to politics... Still, she had an answer for him.
"You think taking lives just so you can have your way, with no benefit to anyone else, is justified? Tells me a lot about your character, and that it's not one I want in my leader. By the way, you had your chance to rule Kayland and you blew it by going all out to s
teal the throne. You could have ruled for a decade and a half, until Matthew came of age—plenty of time for you to change the country if you wanted. Why did you throw it away?"
He rushed her once more, his quicksilver trident stabbing into her upper chest and thigh when it got past her guard. "I didn't mean to get caught!"
She beat him back again, slicing him over the ribcage as he backed away. They circled each other, dripping blood while they locked eyes. "But why are you so insistent on establishing yours as the royal line? You wouldn't even be around to see your heir become king."
"It doesn't matter if I'm around. You're a mother, you should understand the meaning of family."
"I don't think my kids need to be king to have wonderful lives."
"You've never been close to being royal, that's why. We both want the best for our children—I just have a better vantage point from which to see what that really entails."
He was wrong, at least in his first point. She had once been crowned queen of the eastern kingdom of Terlon, if not for a long time. It hadn't been a very pleasing experience, and she wouldn't want to try it again. Of course, that had a fair amount to do with her being unqualified, unfamiliar both with politics and the culture of that country. But she didn't think Victor had any claim to the throne. He'd thrown any chance of that away with the evil he'd done in the name of power.
"You give up now, or you die."
He didn't back down, but aimed Clearsky high at her neck. "Try to kill me, then. Personally, I think you'll die."
"I haven't met the man who could outlast me yet." Rose charged, and he jabbed at her throat. Seeing it coming a mile away, she blocked with her shield and stabbed at Victor's side. He leaned sharply, allowing the blade to glance off an armor plate. He tried to put space between them and Rose stepped after him, following close behind. When she struck with her heavy shield at his face, he could only block clumsily using his arms. Battered back, he tried to get Clearsky up in time. Her downward slash drove the trident's head against the ground.
Victor fell as a shield blow shattered his nose, and scooted away with panic growing on his face. Frightfully, he said, "Now, Clearsky!"
Rose felt a throbbing pressure in her head, accompanied by words in an annoyingly whiny yet somehow convincing voice. He is right. Submit, or die.
Recognizing this to be the magic of Clearsky, she stopped in her tracks. The trident's mental voice was powerful, and her body strained against her will to obey the command. Then she smirked and watched with satisfaction while shock widened Victor's eyes. "Mind control's never been worth a damn against me." Rose stepped forward, raised her sword. She brought it down with all her weight and strength, only for the chop to be blocked by Clearsky's head. The clash was deafening beyond mere noise, and to her surprise, one of the ultimate weapon's tines broke off.
She heard Clearsky's howl of anguish explode into her mind, and believed then it felt pain as men did. Victor stared at his damaged weapon, his face drooping in defeat. "You stupid girl," he snarled. "You think just because you've been able to live a satisfactory life without upsetting your fragile ethics, that everyone can? Everybody isn't dealt an equal lot in life, nor can they settle for the same. You've had it easy."
It appalled Rose that he could even say such a thing. Had it easy, her? He was the one who had been carried this far by lucky breaks. But it ended today—or maybe it wouldn't, because just then Rose sensed the attack coming from her side. She was forced to turn, and meet Prince Wilner's blades.
Where were her allies? For an instant she feared them all dead, her beloved Finn included, and glanced around though most her attention remained on her opponent. Rose saw Finn alive and up, battling against a number of men, and that was all she needed. She attacked Wilner fiercely, noting that he too sported several wounds. No one who lived would get through today unmarked. Victor retreated from a grim-faced Alicia now, the duchess finally finding the battle she longed for. But a huge, gushing axe wound gaped on her side, concerning Rose dearly.
Brandon joined Rose against Wilner. Together they drove the prince back sneering in frustration and rage. She knocked one of his axes from his hand, and Brandon kicked him to the ground. Rose would have delivered the killing blow if not for the longsword which caught her blade. She identified its wielder and recoiled. "Loreen!" she demanded of her one-armed friend. "You fight me?"
"I can't let you kill my monarch," she said, and broke away. Then a huge axe appeared in the front of Rose's body.
She looked up from the massive blade splitting her open from gut to just below her breastbone, and spotted the extended black-gauntleted hand that had thrown it attached to Prince Wilner's arm. He smiled as she choked on the blood, gore, and bile flooding her throat. She spat weakly in a futile attempt to rid herself of the vile taste. "I got you this time," he taunted.
No, this... couldn't happen, she couldn't die like this. She had survived being stabbed through the heart and gutted before, right? Raising her sword in a trembling hand, she lunged and swung high at Wilner. She must have caught him by surprise, because the normally lightning-fast man cried out as she slashed him across the face. If only she'd been a little closer, she would have killed him. Instead he stepped back, moaning as he clutched a long cut between his nose and mouth. Rose began to double over, and her vision blurred. She tried to straighten up. Her legs gave out beneath her, but she barely felt her back hit the ground. The world her senses perceived seemed secondary now, to the all-encompassing entity that was her pain.
But she still heard the footsteps approach, and forced herself to open her eyes. Closing in on her was a ring of Victor and Wilner's soldiers. Those princely fiends were going to let their minions kill her? Rose couldn't help feeling a bit insulted at such treatment, as it seemed a poor way to go for a person so many had deemed a legend. She struggled to lift her sword in a final act of defiance. "So which of you is going to finish me? Come on, try your best. I'll still send you to hell!"
#
Finn hardly noticed the pain of his wounds or the heavy burden in his arms as he limped back into camp, focused solely on his wife's unknown fate. He hadn't seen Rose since they'd been separated when she and Brandon had gone after Wilner, and he and Alicia been forced to flee by the intervention of the Ulir. While Rose was more than a match for the prince of Coblan especially with Brandon's aid, Finn knew there were many other dangerous foes on the battlefield, and anything could happen in war.
Looking down at the duchess bleeding in his arms, her side a crimson ruin, he asked, "Alicia? Are you okay?"
She met his eyes, blood dribbling down her chin. "Those were some tough guys."
"You did good. Should I bring you to the infirmary, or your tent?"
"I have a doctor near my tent; just leave me there and tell him."
He did what she instructed, wondering if she would die where he left her. He'd seen the axe bury itself in her flank, a nasty strike. Indeed, Victor and Wilner refused to go down easily.
He heard the words he'd been dreading when a soldier who did not notice him said to a nearby comrade, "Did you hear? Rose has been mortally wounded, and lies near death in her tent. Surely, the end for us cannot be far off..."
Breaking into a pained dash, Finn rushed to his tent. With a shaking hand, he eased open the flap. Count Brandon looked helplessly up at Finn when he entered. Rose lay before him on her back, sliced open everywhere, many of her cuts so deep that flaps of flesh hung loose like grotesque capes. Numerous arrows, spear shafts, and even a few broken sword blades protruded from her body. But those were not the worst of it. One huge gash nearly covered her abdomen, broken organs exposed amidst a lake of brown-stained blood. Brandon had started to sew it closed, his face white at the grisly task.
Somehow, her chest still rose and fell with breath. "Who did this to you?" Finn asked numbly while he sat at her side and cradled her head in his lap. "How?"
She opened her blood-filled mouth, gasped, and said, "Wilner. Axe."
&n
bsp; "Gods, Rose. This is too much for me to heal." With magic, he meant. He wasn't that good, not by a long shot.
"I already knew that," she replied as she drew herself up a bit to rest her body against his own, though the movement must have hurt her beyond Finn's ability to imagine. "I wouldn't have asked you to anyway. But you can help Brandon close up my outside."
He did, terrified that each second could be the last he spent with his beloved. But even though her wounds were beyond any other human being's power to endure, Rose survived their inadequate treatment and whispered, "Help me up."
Finn could hardly believe her. "You have to rest."
"No, I've got to go out there. Everybody thinks I'm dying, and I'm our big old champion. I don't want them to lose hope."
So it wasn't all foolhardy pride that drove her to act this way. He should have known. But it was crazy nonetheless, and though Finn stood, gingerly raising Rose to her feet as Brandon watched in mute shock, he warned her, "You better not die from this, or I'll give you hell for all eternity once I join you."
Her legs quivering with the strain of holding up her mangled body, she smiled weakly. "I'm not going to die. I've survived just as bad before."
"Maybe... but I hate seeing your guts."
She shuddered, but remarked, "They're covered now." They walked outside, Finn holding her hand and supporting her with an arm around her waist. With the most amazing steadiness of voice, she announced to the crowd around their tent, "I'm okay, everybody. I'll live."
Without further comment, Finn escorted her back inside while some of their allies began to cheer. "You think they believed me?" she asked.
"Some of them did. But I bet many who saw how hurt you actually are, still feel sure you're going to die. But I trust you to live."
He helped her lie back down in his arms. Resting her head on his huge thigh, she said, "I'm not so sure I do."