Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) (23 page)

"I'm going to let you out, alright?" Michael said softly, and drew his knife - ignoring the girl's gasp - and cut through the ropes to open a whole in the net for her to climb out of.

He sheathed his knife and held out his hand. "Come on. I promise, we're not going to hurt you. We're...Felix, what's that word mother taught us?"

"Gentlemen?"

"Yes, that's right, like in the stories. We're gentlemen."

The girl blinked, and wiped away some snot dangling from her nose. "It's not a trick?"

"We don't pick on other people," Felix said. "We usually...we don't do that."

Slowly, haltingly, the girl reached out and took Michael's hand. He quickly pulled her out of the fishing net.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"As I said, I'm a Firstborn," Michael said. "It's what we do."

"Why where you in there in the first place?" Felix asked.

The girl grabbed self-consciously for the strange flaps on her neck. "These things. Everywhere I go people notice them. They say that they make me a freak. I am a freak, I hate looking this way."

"I think you look pretty!" Felix blurted out.

The girl's face flushed a little as Michael chuckled.

"What's your name?" Michael asked.

The girl looked away. "Amitiel Ameliora. But...if you want to, you can call me Amy."

"Michael? Michael open your eyes."

Michael did as he was commanded by that oh, so familiar voice. As his vision returned, he saw the naiad knight - so it was true, he had not been imagining it! - who had led the charge standing over him, while various soldiers milled around the detritus of the battle around them, putting injured horses out of their misery or collecting weapons from the fallen rebels. The Crimson Rose, those that had survived, appeared to have fled. Certainly there was neither sight nor sound of them.

"Are you okay?" the knight asked, her voice still evoking distant memories in the corners of Michael's memory. "You had me worried sick for a moment." Her armour was a pale yellow-white, like bleached bone, and her breastplate was set with sapphires set in the image of a leaping dolphin. Her helmet, shaped like a sea serpent's head, with snarling fangs and a tall crest, completely concealed her face; the two slits for the eyes were two small for Michael to make anything out.

Michael blinked, pushing himself up a little with his elbows. "Forgive me, ser knight, but never before has a naiad honoured me with their presence. So why do you address me as though we are old friends."

"Well I'd hope that we're still friends, or this was the stupidest decision I've ever made." The knight removed her helmet and smiled shyly at him. "Hello, Michael, remember me?"

Michael couldn't speak. He wasn't sure that he could even breathe. His eyes widened, pushing his eyebrows up until they were in danger of being lost beneath his hair. He lost control of his mouth and it flopped like a fish pulled from the ocean. It couldn’t be. But it was. But it was impossible. But she was standing right there. She looked older, but it had been seven years, and she hadn't changed that much. She still had that same shining red hair, shorter now but unmistakable. Those same eyes: one blue and one green, yet both seeming to capture in them some of the ocean's essence and beauty. The same pale complexion, unnatural not just for Corona but for practically anywhere south of Mavenor. And, now that he looked at it, the old and faded, slightly tattered red and blue scarf tied around her right arm; he had given her that scarf a few months before she disappeared.
Lord of the Oceans, King of the Waves,
Michael thought,
by God and the wounds of Gabriel it's really true.

“'Swounds,” Michael said. “Amy? After all this time, here of all the places, Amy? Is that you? God under wave.”

Amy laughed, a sweet sound like nectar from Turo to Michael’s soul. “It’s me, it’s been seven years but its me. I'm back.” Her smile faltered and she looked down at the dusty road for a moment before she said, “It’s good to see you again, Michael.”

“Is that all you have to say? Seven years gone and 'It's good to see you again'!” Michael was shouting now, mock indignation failing to match genuine joy. “It's marvellous to see you, our Amy, come here!”

Amy laughed as she hauled him to his feet with surprising strength, before Michael enfolded his arms about her and hugged her as close and tight as her armour would allow. After all these years, their girl had come home.
Can you see this, our Felix? Our Amy's back!

"This is absolutely wonderful," Michael said. "I never dreamt, I didn't dare to hope...I missed you, our Amy; I missed you so much."

Amy placed her head upon his shoulder, "Not as much as I've missed you, you've no idea how much I missed both of you."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Michael said. "Where have you been the last seven years, our Amy?"

"You're making an unprecedented exhibition of yourself, Michael, may one ask the occasion?" Gideon's dry voice interrupted his childlike fit, recalling him to himself and to the dignity that becomes a man.

Michael released Amy and came to something approaching attention as he faced Gideon, who was standing a few feet away, regarding Michael and Amy with great care. "My lord. I apologise that you had to witness such a display from your servant. If I had known-"

"I do not regard passion as a weakness, Michael," Gideon said casually. "Nor do I abhor embarassing displays of emotion. I'm glad to see you still alive."

"I am glad to live, my lord," Michael said, and was surprised to find that he actually meant it. Especially now that Amy had returned to him. He would not have wanted to die and missed their girl coming back to him.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Gideon asked.

"My apologies, my lord," Michael said, offering a quick bow. "My lord, allow me to present Amy Doraeus, my friend from back home of long standing. Amy, allow me to name Lord Gideon Commenae, First Sword of the Empire and my good master."

"Charmed, my dear," Gideon smiled thinly. "Amy... a somewhat unusual name?"

“Yes, well, if your name was..." Amy's cheeks went a bit red now as well, and she continued in a half whisper. "If your name was Amitiel Ameliora you'd want to shorten it as much as you could as well."

“I should hope not, I despise shame in the name one’s parents gave you, though I will concede that Amitiel might have broken me,” Gideon said. “I take it, young lady, that it would not be unfair to say that you did not just happen to be in Davidheyr and come to our aid by chance.”
              Amy nodded. “Has Michael mentioned Silwa to you?”

“So you are the old friend Lady Silwa mentioned,” Michael said. “Why didn't she tell me? I could have thought of something to say to you.”

"Maybe she didn't want to spoil the surprise for you," Amy shrugged. "Anyway, I'm only part of the help. The other two will be catching us up soon. Silwa told me about Miranda. She asked me to help you out, and I said yes. She told me to meet you here; I was hoping to surprise you but the Crimson Rose spoiled that plan. Once I saw you were about to behave like a complete idiot I had to get out here as fast as I could."

"I was doing what I had to," Michael said. "More would have died otherwise."

Amy snorted. "You haven't changed a bit, except your language has gotten more pretentious."

Michael frowned. "I think you were trying to insult me, our Amy."

"And obviously I didn't, which just goes to show, really."

Gideon cleared his throat. “Judging by the ludicrous behaviour which you have inspired in Michael I take it that you are of longstanding acquaintance?”

“That’s right,” Amy said. “I've known Michael since he was nine and I was six.”

Michael might have imagined it, but it seemed like Gideon was putting him under renewed scrutiny for an instant, piercing him with his all seeing gaze, “I see.”

Michael said. “We were good friends until she disappeared."

“It’s only disappearing if you don’t come back,” Amy said.

“No it isn’t, it’s disappearing if nobody knows where you went,” Michael replied. “Some of us were worried sick about you.”

“How about if I tell you where I went, then I won’t have disappeared.”

“Yes you will, you’ll have disappeared, then come back and told me where you were.”

“All right, Michael, so I disappeared. But now I’m back so isn’t everything okay?”

“Ahem,” Gideon said. “If we might get on?”

Michael looked down at his feet in embarrassment, “My apologies, my lord.”

“So, Ameliora-“

“Amy,” Amy said.

“I don’t think so, somehow,” Gideon said. “So, Ameliora, you are already aware of our goal and mission?"

Amy was silent for a moment, staring at Gideon even as he stared back at her, “Silwa told me about Quirian, about Miranda and what he plans to do to her. Everything else she said I could find out when I arrived."

Gideon hesitated for a moment. “Of course; it appears that she retains her taste for secrecy and confusion. I assume, judging by your attire, that this is not your first taste of war?”

Amy drew herself up, back straight and proud. "I will have you know that I am a knight of the Oceanhost, sworn to Seafire Peak and the Heir of Niccolo, who is sworn to God himself. And I squired for Ser Viola, Knight of Kraken's Lair, and rode with her against undine raiders on seven separate occasions."

Gideon nodded. "I see. A knight...you are a propertied cavalryman, then?"

"Sort of, but without the property... or the mount," Amy said. "You can't really get the sea horses up onto the land. Basically I know how to swing a sword, isn't that enough?"

"Oh, yes indeed," Gideon murmured. "So it was this Ser Viola who promoted you to knight?"

Amy hesitated, and did not quite meet Gideon's gaze as she said. "Yes, Ser Viola knighted me six moons past."

Michael shook his head. "Turo under the waves, our Amy an honest to goodness knight. How? I mean...how?"

Amy smiled out of one corner of her mouth. "It's a long story."

"Perhaps one best told once we are within the safety of the walls," Gideon suggested. "In case the Crimson Rose should return."

Amy nodded. "Probably for the best. Hey, Captain! We'll head back now."

The captain bowed. "As you say, Ser."

Gideon's eyebrows rose. "They obey you?"

"Well they've got nobody else to give them orders, and I am a messenger from God after all," Amy said, tucking her helmet under her arm as she started back towards the town. Michael and Gideon kept pace with her, while the soldiers formed in ranks behind. By their equipment, and the designs upon their shields, they were most provincial limitanei, with a few of the proconsular comitatus amongst them. None of them were Imperial regulars but then, as Gideon had said, you rarely saw a legionary in this part of the world.

"Perhaps you had better appraise us of the situation, Ameliora," Gideon said.

Amy sniffed. "The Proconsul went to Lover's Rock for the Covenant celebrations, so they tell me, along with the Praetor, the Military Tribune and the High Priest. None of them came back."

"They're dead," Gideon said. "The Crimson Rose made sure to kill them when they attacked the town."

Michael frowned. He did not know if Amy was aware that Lover's Rock had been put to fire and sword, and there were gentler ways in which the news could have been broken.
And we must break the news of her mother's passing, too. God give her courage to bear it. God give me courage to tell her.
He had not been able to speak to her the last time, too crippled by fear. He was more afraid of Amy's grief than of all the swords of the Crimson Rose.

"I assumed as much," Amy said. "Silwa told me that the old town was...she told me about mother."

Michael's frown deepened. "Amy, I-"

"It doesn't matter," Amy said, a sudden smile stretching across her face. "It wasn't as though I'd been seeing a lot of her, was it?"

Michael's brow creased. "Amy," he began.

"Anyway," Amy said quickly. "The governor's dead, and so is his deputy and the man responsible for the provincial forces. The Quaestor would be in charge, but he's run off to Deucalia where it's safe."

"Cowardly little rodent," Gideon muttered.

"That's kinder than anything I've thought about him," Amy said lightly. "Originally the prefect of the guards cohort took charge and called out the local militia."

"Local?" Gideon asked. "Why didn't he raise the province?"

"Because the Crimson Rose beat him to it," Amy said. "We've had people streaming in from Simon's Villa, Tola Bay and Gabrielheyr all singing the same song to a different rhythm: rebels in the night, fire and blood, burned homes and dead neighbours. When the prefect heard that Ameliorahem was beseiged he marched off to relieve it, taking most of the troops with him. A few survivors came back said they walked right into an ambush. The salted rebels are winning, damn them."

"Winning?" Michael said. "How can a bunch of cutthroats and murderers be winning?"

"Because it looks like they've been thinking about this for a while," Amy said.