by Selina Rosen
"You will travel with me now. Go find Harris and help him with whatever he's doing. I have to make a report to the king."
He nodded numbly and automatically went to do her bidding.
Tarius was surprised to find Persius in armor and holding a bloody sword. Apparently he had armed rather quickly from the looks of it and joined in the battle.
"I am sorry, Sire. I have failed us all. I didn't hear them; I didn't smell them," Tarius said. "My partner is badly wounded. Master Gudgin is dead. I don't know how many more have fallen or are dead."
"No one else heard, either," Persius said solemnly. "No one expects you to be the only one on lookout. You wouldn't allow it anyway, so don't take the blame upon yourself."
"It's no man's fault," Hellibolt said as he held out a fistful of some strange herb. "Some witch put a spell on this place so that we couldn't hear, see, or smell them as long as they were still. A camouflage spell is an easy spell that any competent witch could do."
"But the Amalites . . . Magic is against their laws! They execute witches," Tarius said.
"Oh yes, but they're losing now. What do you want to bet that their gods told them it would be all right just this once? Their gods are always doing that, don't you know? Bending the laws to suit them. No doubt it would be evil if we used magic against them," Hellibolt said.
"But . . . They don't have any witches," Tarius said.
Hellibolt looked at both the king and Tarius as if they were idiots. "And what does that tell you?" Hellibolt asked.
The king shrugged.
Tarius looked puzzled for a minute and then smiled. "It means the witch is Jethrik," Tarius said. "Why would she help them then?"
"Perhaps they forced her. Perhaps they paid her, and she is without scruples. Either way the witch is not here now." He looked at Tarius. "You and I must find the witch and stop her from helping them again."
Tarius shook her head. "I have too much to do here, I . . ."
"What if she returns with more Amalites? What if this is just a simple spell for her?"
"My partner has been badly wounded. Take a group of men . . ."
Hellibolt stared deep within her eyes. "I need you."
Tarius looked at Persius, who shrugged his consent. So Tarius called her horse, and he ran over. Just gathering the horses was going to be a big job. She started to mount the horse and Hellibolt put a hand on her shoulder.
"We'll have to walk. Wizards never ride horses. They don't like us."
"Old man, I have much to do, and nightfall will come soon . . ."
"Don't you even want to know how the witch got past even you?" Hellibolt asked with thinly veiled meaning.
"What even makes you think she's close to this place?" Tarius asked.
"Because the nature of the spell is such that she must have been present to cast it. This way I think."
Hellibolt started walking with amazing speed considering his fragile appearance, and Tarius followed. When they could no longer hear the activity of the soldiers behind them, Hellibolt turned to Tarius. "We could have this done quicker if you would only change."
Tarius didn't miss a beat. She stopped and slowly turned to face him as the transformation became complete. "You mean like this?"
"Oh, yes! That's very good," Hellibolt clapped his hands together happily. "You really are an exquisite creature . . . Well, go on now, find the witch."
Tarius sniffed the air, gave Hellibolt a disgusted look, and then started off in the opposite direction from which he had them traveling.
"It wouldn't have happened if you had been like this," Hellibolt said.
Tarius turned and glared at him.
"Well, everyone knows that magic doesn't work on the Katabull."
"Everyone also knows that the Katabull can't belong to the Jethrik army," Tarius said.
"Not to mention your other little problem with gender," Hellibolt said looking at his nails as he followed her.
"So you know about that as well?" Tarius growled out. "Well, you must be very proud of yourself."
"Oh, I am," Hellibolt laughed. "You needn't worry, though. I've told Persius all about you, and he thinks me quite daft. He needs you. He can't afford to believe anything that means he might have to quit using you."
"People believe what they need to believe," Tarius said in agreement. She got down on the ground on all fours and sniffed the earth. After several seconds she stood up snarling and took off at a near run. "The witch is accompanied by two Amalites."
"Perhaps she was being coerced."
"Maybe so." Tarius was sure she was on the scent now, and she took off at a dead run, leaving Hellibolt far behind. Soon she saw the two Amalites dragging a woman between them. She stopped for a second and listened.
"You horrid witch! You purposely lifted your evil spell and got my men killed! You'll pay, bitch. Oh, yes, you'll pay, and it won't be pretty," one Amalite said in an ominous tone.
Tarius snarled, he spoke Jethrik, must be one of their damned missionaries.
"Please! I didn't lift the spell! I swear to you I didn't. I told you it would only last until the moment you attacked." She squirmed in their grip and tried to get away.
Tarius quickly closed the gap between them. She jumped on the bigger of the two, knocking both he and the witch to the ground. She rolled him to his back and cut his throat. She then descended on the second who had been in the process of drawing his blade. She grabbed hold of his wrist where it gripped the hilt and crushed it. He let out a blood-curdling scream just before she drew her own blade across his throat as well. The witch was running, but Tarius quickly caught her, dragging her to the ground. She was preparing to kill her, too, when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She swung quickly, blade at the ready, to see Hellibolt standing there. He took hold of the end of her sword between thumb and forefinger and carefully pointed it away from himself.
"Don't you even want to know why she did it?" Hellibolt asked.
"No," Tarius answered plainly. "I don't care. She is a danger to our war effort. She got my partner maimed and my dear friend killed. That is all I need to know. Now let me be."
The woman squirmed beneath her, obviously terrified.
"Please! I beg you! I didn't want to do it. They have my lady. Don't you see? They have her and they will kill her now. She is doomed, and what crime has she committed? Me . . . I admit I helped them, but she is blameless and without power. Only help me save her, and I will gladly let you kill me."
Tarius thought of her own love, of Jena, and her heart softened. She stood up. "I will help you save your woman, but then you must die, for you are a danger to the war effort."
"Fair enough." The woman led them down a well-worn path to a clearing where a small cottage with a large garden was nestled quietly in the trees. Six Amalite horses were hitched outside.
"What next?" the witch asked. "I have lots of spells."
"Oh, please. Allow me," Hellibolt said. "Rope of hemp, wood of tree, let these little horses free."
Both Tarius and the witch turned to stare at him.
"Hey! It works."
They watched as the rope fell away from the hitching post.
"Little horses by the house, go and play with the field mouse," Hellibolt intoned.
The horses started walking slowly and quietly away.
"I'm very impressed," the witch said.
"Why thank you," Hellibolt said. "Just a little trick I picked up from an old witch who only used it on weekends."
"How do you do it? I mean it's certainly not your incantations, which I have to tell you are just horrible," the witch said.
"Well, first you gather the energy of the forest into you, and then . . ."
"Quit it right now," Tarius hissed out. She glared at the witch. "You I'm going to kill, so you don't need to learn any more spells."
She turned to Hellibolt. "And you, I'm just plain annoyed with."
"Sorry," the witch said.
"Me, too," Hellibolt added.
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br /> "I don't want you to be sorry! I want you to shut up!" She glared at the witch. "If you hope to trick me . . ."
She gasped. "Oh! I wouldn't dare! You're the Katabull, and everyone knows that you can't use magic against the Katabull. Please, can't we just save Helen now?"
Tarius nodded and moved forward. She looked in the window. The girl was tied to a chair and there were four men in the house. She came back to the other two.
"What you say is true," Tarius said.
"Well, you don't have to sound so surprised," she said. "Is Helen all right?" she added with real worry.
"Seems to be. Can either one of you do a glamour?"
"Yes," they both said in unison. "But not on you."
"I know that; I'm not an idiot," Tarius spat back. "If Hellibolt goes in with a glamour on him, looking like one of the men that had hold of you back there, he can drag you back in there. He could say the enemy has followed him and that the other man has been killed. Then we can get them out of the house and away from your woman."
"Good. She hates it when the house gets dirty," the witch said.
Tarius stared at them expectantly. "Well, get on with it."
"Can I do it? I mean it's probably the last spell I'll get to cast, seeing as she's going to kill me in a little while," the witch said pointing her thumb at Tarius.
"Be my guest," Hellibolt said.
"Just get on with it," Tarius hissed.
"It's done," the witch said.
Tarius nodded. She couldn't tell, but she took their word for it.
"Go through the door and tell them your story. When they run out, shut the door behind them. I'll be waiting for them outside," Tarius said.
"Ooh, are you taken?" the witch asked with a wink.
"You can tell I'm a woman, too?" Tarius growled in disbelief.
"Well, it's pretty obvious," the witch said shrugging.
"No one else seems to notice," Hellibolt said. "She is taken by the way. Beautiful young girl. Has no idea she's married to a woman."
"Wow! That must be awkward," the witch said.
"Would you just get on with it? I have work to do back there," Tarius hissed, embarrassed as much as she was frustrated.
They started to walk away.
"It's so seldom I get to talk to one of my own kind," Hellibolt said. "It's so nice to be in the company of one that I don't have to explain the simplest of illusions to."
"Tell me about it! All the 'How did you do this, and how did you know that?' It gets tiresome after awhile," the witch said.
Tarius smacked herself in the head in total disgust. She watched as the door opened a crack and moved swiftly and stealthily into position. In a few moments the four men ran out the door bearing steel. Tarius ran at them, and they scattered in a panic. She killed the first two easily enough, but had to chase the other two down.
When she returned to the house they had already untied Helen and the two women were embracing.
"All right I have to kill you now," Tarius said coolly. She was in a hurry to get back to her men.
"No, please! Have mercy," Helen pleaded. Apparently they had already told her of the deal. "Jazel was blinded by her love for me . . ."
"She got a lot of my men wounded and killed. She helped the Amalites—the sworn enemy of all of our people," Tarius said, glaring at Jazel. "Now come on, we had a deal."
Jazel started forward, and Helen hung on her. "If you are to kill Jazel, then you might as well run us both through because I don't want to live without her."
"Don't you understand? She has helped the enemy once, what's to stop her doing it again? Good men's blood has been shed, better men are dead because of her," Tarius said. "It's really nothing personal."
"Please, I beg of you," Helen said, moving now to hang on Tarius's sword arm, as if that could stop Tarius killing her lover.
"Please, you're making this very difficult for me," Tarius said,
"Tell her, Jazel. Tell her you'd never do it again," Helen pleaded.
"But, darling, under the same circumstances I would," Jazel said truthfully.
"See?" Tarius said.
"But I wouldn't let her!" Helen pleaded.
"What if it were Jena who was held, Tarius?" Hellibolt asked.
"Ah, now, that's not fair," Tarius said. Then added, "Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"You can't tell me that there is anything you wouldn't do to save Jena," Hellibolt said. "Anyone you wouldn't betray to save her."
"Damn it, Hellibolt! She got men killed," Tarius said. "Is there to be no punishment for that? For treason!"
"What if we leave?" Helen asked. "Go to Kartik, where the enemy can never use Jazel again."
"Would you swear an oath?" Hellibolt said.
"I would. We'd leave tonight," Jazel promised.
Tarius shook Helen off her arm and sheathed her sword with a sigh. "Is a witch's oath any good?" Tarius asked Hellibolt, not looking at him.
"As good as the Katabull's," Hellibolt said, more than a little offended.
"And you'll leave tonight?" Tarius asked the witch suspiciously.
"Right away. Thank you. I won't forget your kindness," the witch promised.
"I know I'm going to regret this," Tarius mumbled and left.
"Well, it was certainly nice to meet you. Safe voyage," Hellibolt said.
They started the walk back to their troops. For all her talk of being in a hurry to get back, Tarius was walking at something less than a fast pace.
"What's wrong, Tarius?" Hellibolt asked.
"What isn't? I shouldn't have let her live. Gudgin's dead along with dozens of others. It's her fault. She'd do it again in a heartbeat. I let her go because you were right about what you said about Jena." Tarius walked with her head down. "I wish I'd never met her."
"Who?" Hellibolt asked.
"Jena, you old fool! She messes with my thinking."
"Because you love her."
"Yes," Tarius said. She took a deep breath. She had too much to do to waste time wallowing in self pity. She licked the blood off her hands and turned back into her human form. She gave her self a second to catch her breath after the transformation, and then took off running. When she got back to the road, Hellibolt was already there.
Chapter 8
Tragon lay sick with fever, having the field stitches taken out to have the wound "repaired correctly," as the academy surgeon explained it, and she had not one question about him or his health.
Jena ran in and skidded to a stop just short of hitting the surgeon. "Is Tarius all right? Is he well?"
"Jena, I'm wounded. I've just spent a week in hell being bumped across the countryside on a horrible wagon." He screamed in pain. "Jena, they're taking my leg apart."
"I know all that, Tragon. Don't be such a baby. How is Tarius?"
Not even one word of concern about my condition. Not even a good to see you, Tragon. Only how is Tarius? Is he all right? Well, she's just fine, Jena, dear. I, on the other hand, am going to die. He screamed again as the sadistic bastard dug at another stitch.
"Just leave it be, man. It had almost stopped hurting until you started poking at it!" Tragon screamed.
"Tragon, please!" Jena pleaded.
"For the gods' sake! He was fine when last I saw him. There's a note from him in my saddle bags . . ." He hadn't even finished when Jena ran out the door to go look for his saddlebags, which she no doubt believed to be in the stable. "They're right there on the floor."
Darian chuckled. "Forgive her, Tragon. I'm sure you can understand what she's been going through having a husband on the front with little or no news."
"Oh gods!" Tragon screamed. He glared at the surgeon who shrugged, a hapless look on his face, and continued to dig. "The king's own surgeon sewed that, and yet you say it's not good enough. You awful hack! Why on earth did I listen to you? You wanted to cut Arvon's perfectly good leg off."
Darian laughed at the hurt look on the surgeon's face. Then he picked up Tragon's saddlebag
s and started digging through them till he found several pieces of parchment folded up bearing Jena's name in Tarius's own unique handwriting. There was dried blood on the parchment and Darian made a face.
"He wrote it right after the battle. Tarius won't allow the wounded to stay on the front even one single day. The regular soldiers are shipped off to the nearest villages for recovery, and after they recover they stay in that village. The protection of that village becomes their duty. We lucky Swordsmen get shipped back here, and when we recover we are to be sent right back up to the front as quickly as we can get there. The only ones who are any more abused than we are the poor heralds. They're on horseback constantly with little or no sleep, traveling from one camp to the other and bringing news of the war back here."
"Was he hurt?" Darian asked looking at the dried blood and trying to scrape it off where he could.
Tragon laughed. "Oh, it's not his blood; it's theirs. It's never his blood. The king has made Tarius chief warlord, you know."
Darian found a chair and sat down hard. "No, I didn't."
"Well, he has. The king doesn't piss without asking Tarius first."
"Evil boy!" the surgeon scolded.
"Watch your mouth, Tragon," Darian said.
"Well, it's true! The king takes the credit for it, but all the plans are made by Tarius. The men all know it, too," Tragon said.
Jena ran back in breathless. "They said you didn't have a horse . . ." Her father was holding up the letter and Jena ran over and grabbed it from him.