Defiance (Rise of the Iliri Book 3) (26 page)

BOOK: Defiance (Rise of the Iliri Book 3)
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Chapter 28

 

 

Four days later, Sal stood atop a low ridge watching the road.  A bay horse sped toward her, the green-clad rider low on its neck.  Sal looked across the battlefield before her, spring taking a grip on the empty hillside.  Delicate flowers made dots of color in the brilliant foliage of the new grasses but the trees held only buds, and there was no sign of the enemy forces.  She took a deep breath, touching the aged bars on her shoulders, and forced herself to relax.

"He rode hard, kitten, and we mobilized well – even if it took longer than we wanted.  We prolly just beat them.  Wait for the scout b'fore ya start ta panic," Jase whispered to her.

"I am," she told her lover.  "I'm just not very good at it."

The bay slowed to a canter as it climbed the hill, coming to a halt a few paces from where she stood.  The rider slipped off, and Sal gestured for someone to grab the horse and walk it out.  The soldier pulled his helm from his head as he reached her, then saluted crisply.

"Kaisae, they're coming.  It looks like about twelve hundred.  At least half are heavy cavalry, some with lances, but I saw a lot of shields, too," he reported.

"How far behind you?"

"An hour?  That's a guess, Kaisae.  They're walking slow, letting the horses breathe.  I'm pretty sure they know we're here, though."

"Thanks, soldier.  Dismissed," she said, turning to Jase.  "You ready for this?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I've been waiting fer this."

"Ok, let's start setting up," Sal decided.  "Jase, get the archers out and start spreading the pikes.  I'm putting Ilija on the cav."

"Yes, sir," he said, nodding before he hurried away.

"Colonel!" Sal called at Ilija's head over the crowd.  He heard her and turned.  "Organize the cav for me.  They're coming.  I don't want to give Terric a chance to rest up."

"Yes, Kaisae."  Ilija snapped a salute.

Sal turned again to stride through the mingling soldiers, men stepping out of her path.  At the King's pavilion, she slipped through the door without notice.  Dominik stood in the center of the room with a page strapping his armor on.  The kid looked like Jarl.

"Sire, they're coming," Sal told him.

He swallowed loudly.  "Ok.  What are my orders, Kaisae?"

"Stick with the Shields.  Jase, Hwa, Roo and I will be floating where we're needed most.  We can still outfight most of your men.  Ilija is your commander.  Listen to his orders.  If you disobey him, I will have him haul your ass back here and tie you into this tent, do you understand?"

"Yes, Kaisae.  Perfectly," Dom said, ducking his head.

"You'll get a pass, maybe two, but stay the fuck away from the main fight.  I'm sorry, Dom, you aren't that good, and we can't afford to lose you."

He chuckled.  "Don't worry, Sal.  I'd much rather be sweet talking women than trying to make any glory.  I'm scared shitless.  I'm more than happy to have Ilija walk my ass through this."

"Good," she said, smiling.  "Dom, have you ever been in battle before?"

"No.  Shit, I never wanted to be."

"If you like it too much, if you feel the need for more, tell Ilija."

"What do you mean?  I'm about to piss myself," he said.

She looked at the page.  "Excuse us, please?"

"Kaisae, I need to finish -" he tried, but Sal cut him off.

"I'll get the straps.  Right now, I need the King alone."

"Yes, Kaisae," he said, slipping from the tent.

Sal stepped toward the King, reaching for the buckles on his pauldron.  "Dom, your eyes are hazel.  I see hints of muted green in them.  You have iliri in you somewhere.  It's probably a small bit, but it's there."

Dominik nodded, standing still while she reached for the next strap.

"It's probably nothing, but when you see combat, when you smell the blood, or taste it, or hear the screams – it's different for each of us – you may find that it's no longer as terrifying as you think.  If you cut a man and like it, or if you need just one more kill, to hear just one more scream... Do you understand what I'm saying?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

"I could be like you?" His voice sounded terrified.

"It's not likely, but it's possible.  If you are, tell Ilija.  Shit, tell Hwa.  I'll take care of you, sire.  I'll show you how to deal with it."

He nodded.  "Thank you, Sal.  I hope not, but I promise I'll tell them.  Is it really that bad?"

She laughed, the sound shocking the King.  "No, ayati, no.  It's amazing.  It's better than amazing.  Imagine the best lover you've ever had, then imagine five of her at once, and each is twice as good.  That's the maast."

"Well, maybe I hope I get it then, because that sounds pretty amazing."

She finished the last buckle and slapped his armored shoulder.  "Ok, you're strapped in.  Flex, move and bend.  Tell me if anything is too loose of if it pinches?"

Dom tried, pointing out a few adjustments, and Sal made them.  When he felt his armor fit well, they made their way from the tent.  Side by side, they walked to the horses.  Ilija waited beside the King's grey mare, a horse Sal had helped him pick from the stables.

"How the fuck do I mount in this?" Dom asked, the resin armor weighing him down.

"Kick your leg back," Sal explained, and he did, shocked when she grabbed it.  "Now jump."  When he obeyed, Sal lifted, giving the King the reach he needed to make the saddle.

"Damn, can I get one of those too?" Ilija joked, and Sal stuck her tongue out at him.  "Real professional, Kaisae," he said, stepping up on his own mount before calling his unit to him.  Unlike the regular army, the Verdant Shields wore a pale grey, the color nearly white.  Sal smiled at the irony as she made her way for her own mare.

The Blades' horses stood calmly beside the grauori.  Sal didn't make a fuss about getting herself into the saddle.  From Arden's back, she could finally see the soldiers moving into position.  Below them, the lush green meadow was filled with winter runoff, the ground soft but looking solid to a casual glance. 

"I want both of you to keep an eye on the King," she told the grauori.  "You can make it through the battle easier than us, so don't wait for my word, just keep him safe."

Yes, Kaisae,
they said in unison.

Sal took a deep breath, flushing her stress out with it, and moved to the top of their hill.  Up here, her view of the coming army was unobstructed, but still, no enemy soldiers were in sight.  Next, she scanned the horizon.  That's when Jase slipped beside her, Raven just brushing her knee.  Around them, the Anglian army was forming up in tidy blocks of green.  Armor clanked, and men grumbled.  The sound of fear was almost as prevalent as the smell of it. 

The wait seemed to take an eternity before pikes with purple and black streamers peaked in the distance.  Sal looked once more at Jase, and he nodded then flicked his helm closed.  She reached behind her to pull hers from the saddle, sliding it on her head and securing it to the bezor beneath.  Their eyes met once more, and she squeezed her mare forward.  As the pair of them walked toward the front of the line, they could hear men whispering the words of respect.  "Laetus, Kaisae," spoken softly from hundreds of her soldiers.  The words became her resolve.  These men were trusting her, and she would make sure their lives weren't wasted. 

Sal and Jase stopped halfway across the muddy field, watching the enemy approach.  The cavalry spread across the line before them, but the only sounds were the clink of resin and acrylics in the light breeze.  Two figures broke from the enemy line and trotted toward the center of the field.  Sal pushed Arden forward to meet them, Raven matching her step for step.  When they neared, the enemy soldiers halted out of weapon's range, and the iliri did the same.

"Surrender now, and we will allow the King to keep his throne.  All he has to do is swear allegiance to the Emperor!" the first man yelled across at her.

Sal smiled behind her helm.  "Why would he do that?  The Empire has already tried to kill my King – and the assassins died.  If your men come any further, the same fate awaits them."

The second man laughed.  "You Anglians have no idea what you face.  Your army might be bigger, but it's not better.  The Emperor only wants to cleanse the iliri taint from the lands.  Cooperate, and we have no interest in this pathetic country!" he screamed.

Sal reached for her chin and released the buckle.  Jase did the same.  Together they slipped their helms from their heads, the sunlight catching her white hair and making it appear to glow.

"This is my army," Sal yelled loud enough for her soldiers to hear.  "These are my men.  This is my country!  You know the histories as well as I do.  We were here first, so you must not have heard me.  Get your asses off my damned Iliran soil.  I will only say it one more time, and next it will be to your Emperor as I stick my white iliri arm down his pathetic divine throat.  Is that clear enough for you to understand?"

The men didn't bother to reply.  They simply turned their horses and raced back to their lines.  Sal and Jase shoved their helms back on as they rode, allowing the mares to canter easily across the muddy field.

Ayati, I love you when you're angry,
Jase said in her head, and Sal laughed, glancing at him once more.

Just wait, killer, because I'm about to get really pissed, she teased,
as they reined in the mares at the front line.  "Where are my pages?" she screamed, and a group of boys in green ran to her horse.  "You," she said pointing, "East, you, west, and you, top side.  Tell the archers to aim well and fire freely at any man in their range.  They do
not
need the horns for permission.  Now, run!"

The boys streaked in the directions she'd given.  Sal watched as the orders were passed and each archer nocked his bow, some kneeling, others standing, all of them ready.  Across the meadow, a deep horn sounded, and horses began to move.

Roo,
Sal said, o
pen us up.

She felt her packmates slide into her mind.  Their emotions mingled with hers, all of them anticipating the bloodshed.  The Anglian army waited in silence as the thundering hooves of the Terrans grew louder and moved closer.  The expanse of grass between them suddenly felt too small, yet infinitely long at the same time.  The fevered excitement of anticipation surged across the link, and from Hwa's ears she heard the first string loose, one arrow screaming across the sky.  A Terran soldier cried out and slumped against his horse.  Sal looked at Ricown as he nocked another arrow to his bow, smiling.  Again he loosed, and again a soldier fell.  Then the music of bows began to grow as the Terrans came into range of the Anglian army.  Horses and men screamed.  Bodies crashed into the mud.  But the men pushed forward, the back lines of the Terran army slowed by the bodies of their fellow soldiers.

"Pikes!" Sal called out, and three units of pikemen pushed forward.  Their weapons held low, each pikeman was covered by a shieldman.  It was a small change Sal had made to their tactics, but she knew those shields would make each pikeman count for two.  Anxiously, she watched as her soldiers moved forward, the war horses bearing down on them quickly.  Their officers called orders, each unit at different times, and the shield men locked close.  The pikemen knelt beneath them, bracing for impact.  The sound became deafening as bodies crashed against the human wall and both horses and human screamed.  Sal knew that some of those were her own men.

There was no turning back.

"Cavalry!" she yelled, and like an arrow loosed, the horses surged past her.  Units charged from every side of their line, ready to meet the enemy head on.  For the first time, the Anglians gave voice to the war.  Men screamed in anger and excitement as they spurred their horses into the Terran army.  Resin crashed against acrylic, and the green meadow changed to shades of mud and gore with the battle.  Sal saw Ilija, his pale armor and massive size setting him apart, looking at her.  She nodded, and he drew his sword to point it skyward.  The Verdant Shields surrounded the King and, flawlessly, they pushed across the line, picking off injured men and tearing apart anyone who made it close to the Anglian lines.

Sal yelled out, her high voice piercing the noise of battle, "For the King!" and sent a thought to Jase,
lay on, let's kill these bastards.

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