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Chapter 20

Three weeks later, the Kartik armada set sail for the coast of Amalite.

Hestia, Dirk and the royal retinue rode on the Silver Eagle with Tarius, Jena and the Marching Night.

Hestia was taking a sword lesson from Tarius on the deck. She had thought herself a fair swordswoman, but after four minutes of sparring with Tarius the Black, she felt inadequate and wondered why she hadn't stayed home in her castle where she was safe.

"She's very good," Darian said to Dirk.

"Tarius is trouncing her, so how can you tell?" Dirk asked with a laugh.

"By how long it's taking for Tarius to trounce her. There is no shame in losing a sword fight to Tarius. She's the best swordsman who ever lived," Darian said.

"You're her woman's father, aren't you?" Dirk asked.

"Yes," Darian said. "I once tried to have Tarius killed, did you know?"

"No, I didn't," Dirk replied.

"Well, I did. I was filled with a red rage and couldn't see past my own hurt and embarrassment. I thought I'd never get used to the two of them together. Now I can't imagine them being apart. They just seem to belong together."

"After the war, will you remain in the Jethrik?" Dirk asked curiously.

"No. If I live, I will go back to Kartik. Jena is there, and she tells me they'll start their family when they get back. I hope I live to tell my grandchildren stories about sitting on the deck of this ship heading for war with the Amalites, talking to the queen's consort."

Dirk laughed and nodded. "I hope we all get to tell stories to our grandkids."

* * *

Hestia held up her hand. "I must rest."

Tarius nodded. Hestia sat on a chair, and Tarius sat on the deck getting glares from every Katabull that saw her. She waved a flippant hand in the air, dismissing their disapproval.

"So, have I got time to learn everything about combat and strategy before we land and start fighting?" Hestia asked.

"I thought that's why you were riding with us," Tarius said with a smile. "The truth is you can only learn technique from practice. You learn warfare by fighting in it. You wanted to be Hestia the Warrior Queen, so prepare yourself."

Hestia nodded. "I'd rather die being Hestia the Warrior Queen than live being Hestia the Dull," she said. "I was trained for battle all my life, yet I have never really crossed swords with anyone. I have never drawn my enemy's blood or had mine drawn. I have never watched my opponent's life drain from his body or wondered whether I was about to die. Look at you, Tarius. Your body is a map of scars telling where you've been and what you've done. Minstrels write songs about you and your adventures, and bards weave tales. There is no one in all the world who doesn't know who Tarius the Black is. I doubt the average Kartik in the street even knows my name let alone anything about me. I'm a good ruler, but a highly forgettable one. I don't want to be. I want passion; I want this." She flung her arms wide. "The sea wind blowing through my hair on a ship with the best fighting force the world has ever known going to do battle against our enemies with no idea of the outcome."

"War isn't romantic, Hestia . . ."

"Jena has already told me the little speech you gave her, so spare me, Tarius," Hestia said. "I know all the cons of going off to war. The gods know, my advisors have pointed them all out to me. Leaving my younger and dumber brother in charge while we're away, the very real possibility I'll be killed, and all the rest. I just don't care anymore. I know it's a terribly selfish thing for a monarch to say, but I want to have an adventure, to truly taste life. I want to do something that I want to do. This is something I want to do."

Tarius nodded. "Like me you were born to the sword."

"How can you say that after you just trounced me?" Hestia said in disbelief.

"Because I beat everyone," Tarius said smugly and jumped to her feet without using her hands. "I'm also the Katabull." She took off for the helm where Jena was standing looking out to sea.

Hestia watched her go.

"She's amazing isn't she?" Dirk said at Hestia's shoulder.

"She's like no one I've ever met," Hestia said. "She taught me more about fighting in a few minutes than I learned from all my instructors in twenty years."

"There is no one I have talked to that doesn't adore her. Yet she is blunt and uncultured and quite frankly a little scary if you ask me," Dirk said.

"Well, the Amalites don't like her, and neither does the Jethrik king," Hestia said. "At some point I will have to meet with Persius, and I haven't quite figured out how to handle that as far as Tarius is concerned. I mean Tarius is my ally; she's running the war, really. I'm just here for show. How do I force Tarius into a meeting with the man who betrayed and tried to kill her?"

"Could be a sticky situation," Dirk said.

Hestia nodded. "Surprising enough, I don't think Tarius would be the problem. Don't get me wrong, I don't think she'll ever forgive him, but she's obviously willing to overlook her personal feelings to go after the Amalites. Of course that only proves that she hates the Amalites more than she hates Persius. No. Tarius won't be the problem; Persius will be. I mean after all if I were him, I'd be scared to death of Tarius the Black."

* * *

The garrisons hadn't been finished when the Amalites started to attack in force. Thank the gods the villages had been armed and trained and were able to slow down the Amalite horde. The garrisons, even half-finished were better than nothing at all, but they were losing ground daily.

"By the gods!" Persius screamed. "Must this accursed woman haunt me all the days of my life with her curses?" He literally pulled at his hair. Then he glared at Hellibolt, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me. I told you she was right about the Amalites, but you wouldn't listen to me, either," Hellibolt said.

"What can we do now?" Persius walked over to the map and looked down at it. "They are everywhere like locusts, and we are spread ever thinner to cover their attacks."

Hellibolt looked at the map, then he sighed and took a deep breath. Admittedly, it didn't look good. "Tarius used to go into the camps as the Katabull the night before an attack. It gave us an edge."

"You knew! You knew all along that she was the Katabull!" Persius screamed accusingly.

"Excuse me," Hellibolt said raising a hand in an elaborate gesture. "The moment I first laid eyes on her I told you she was neither male or human. You ordered me not to ever say it again. Remember?"

"So I did," Persius sighed. "Perhaps we could call for the Katabull in our country to come forward to help us in our war effort. Perhaps . . ."

Hellibolt was shaking his head violently. "After what you did to Tarius, the Katabull have become more secretive than ever before. As for helping us, why would they?"

"Because they don't want the Amalites to win the war," Persius said. "The same reason that Tarius joined us in the first place."

"Won our war for us and was ordered killed by our king for her efforts. You won't get the Katabull to help you, Persius," Hellibolt said. "I wouldn't help you if I were them. They can always go to the Kartik. It's a wonder to me that any of them have stayed here at all."

"What then? We're running out of forces, and I'm running out of ideas," Persius said.

Hellibolt looked thoughtful. Suddenly he snapped his fingers together. "I've got it! We don't have to have the Katabull, we just have to make the Amalites think we do. We can use the same underhanded tactics Tarius did." He started pacing then and mumbling to himself. "Yes, it just might work."

"What might work?" Persius asked.

"We put a glamour on some of our better fighters to make them look like the Katabull. We send them in under cover of night. I will put a stealth spell on them, and they shall travel silently through the camp, slitting the throats of the Amalites in their beds. When they are detected they will run around like mad men killing anything that moves and then retreat," Hellibolt said. "This is what Tarius did that gave us an edge in battle."

"She slit the throats of sleeping men?" Persius asked in disbelief.

"If you mean to kill a man, why does it matter how you kill them? The only ethics that can be applied is whether you choose to kill them slowly and with pain, or quickly. We both know what you choose when given a choice, so who are you to be judgmental?" Hellibolt said.

"Our men will never agree to this," Persius said.

"They will. They know how badly we are losing. They know the cost if we lose this war to the Amalites—death or slavery to the priests of the Amalite—no one wants that. They will do what has to be done," Hellibolt said. "I also suggest you get in touch with the barbarian kings and beg for their support. They are good fighters, and they no doubt realize the stakes if we fail," Hellibolt said.

Persius nodded. "We will put your plan into action, but I'm afraid our best efforts will only mean we will not be defeated as quickly. I have doomed my country and my people to death and tyranny, just as Tarius said I would."

Hellibolt was silent.

"You know what I have said is true," Persius said, correctly reading the wizard's silence. He laughed almost hysterically. "You want to know the thing that haunts me most, Hellibolt?"
"What's that, Persius?"

"I never loved any woman as I loved Tarius. When I thought her a man, I thought my feelings for her sick, perverse, and I locked them away. I thought I was going mad. When I knew she was a woman, I knew I loved her. But because she was queer, I knew she would never love me. It was the worst of everything. She had fooled me into believing she was a man, but as a woman she would never return my feelings. That's the real reason I wanted her dead, Hellibolt. The real reason I wanted her to suffer. I was a blind fool, not once, not twice, but over and over again. Every day is for me a private hell, and the thing that makes it unbearable is that I know I have done it to myself. I know I deserve it."

"She's not dead yet, Persius," Hellibolt said, moving to put a hand on Persius' shoulder. "While you are both still living, there is yet a chance that you might redeem yourself. Not just in her eyes, but in your own as well."

Persius pulled away from him and walked to the window. "There are some crimes for which one dare not ask forgiveness. Such are the crimes I have committed against Tarius the Black."

* * *

The ships attacked the docks at Armond. At approximately the same time their ships hit every other harbor in Amalite. Tarius's army poured out of their ships, some before the gangplanks were dropped. The fighters on horseback boiled up out of the belly of the ship over the gangplanks and into the unsuspecting harbor towns. Meeting little resistance, the Katabull and Kartik armies laid waste to the Amalite seaports.

Hestia and Dirk followed directly behind Tarius, Jena, and Harris, who rode behind a line of walking shield men. Behind Hestia were the rest of the Marching Night and the queen's guards with Arvon in command.

Hestia had tried to prepare herself, but Tarius was right. There was no way to prepare. Their crossbowmen quickly took out the bowmen in the watchtowers, stopping the hail of arrows falling on them from above, but not before three arrows had landed in the small shield Hestia had strapped to her arm. Not before several of their men were wounded.

Tarius called a charge, and their shieldwall opened for them to charge through. They were engaged immediately. The men tried to make a wall around her, to protect her, but the Amalites boiled in on them. She had killed her third man before she realized she had killed her first. All around her the Katabull were changing. They didn't do so before because they didn't want the bowmen to target the Katabull. The Amalites turned and fled in terror before the might of the Kartik/Katabull army that had landed in six ships on their shores. Not one escaped. Terrified civilians ran in every direction, and some—as Tarius had foretold—were mowed down, mistaken for fighters or in the way of a blow meant for one.

Hestia saw Dirk to her right, but couldn't keep up with where everyone was or what they were doing. Tarius was screaming orders that were echoed through the ranks, and it was all she could do to try and do what she thought Tarius was commanding her to do. It was every bit as brutal, every bit as bloody, and every bit as frightening as Tarius had said it would be.

And Hestia felt really alive for the first time in her life.

* * *

Darian was working hard at keeping up with the rest of the ranks. It wasn't easy because he'd taken an arrow in his left arm early in the battle. Eldred stayed back fighting with him, helping him. In front of him he saw Radkin come off her horse at the end of a spear point. She stumbled, grabbed the spear shaft and dragged the Amalite from his horse. She then pulled the spear out and spun it around, killing the man with his own weapon. But she was hurt and afoot, and the Amalites were all around her. Darian forced his horse through them, slinging his sword wildly without really thinking about what he was doing. When he reached Radkin, he leaned down and grabbed her with his wounded arm. With her help he dragged her onto his horse behind him. Then he took off as quickly as possible to get back to help Eldred.

"Thanks," Radkin said in his ear.

"Are you hurt?" Darian asked.

"Didn't pierce my armor. Might have cracked my ribs, but I'll be fine." She slung her blade into a Amalite who was running towards them with his sword raised and hit him so hard she separated his head from his shoulders. "I feel better already."

"Darian! Eldred!" Arvon screamed from somewhere out of sight. "Go right!"

They did, and were soon joined by the queen's guard's shield wall.

"This is where I get off," Radkin said in his ear. She jumped to the ground, sheathed her sword, grabbed a discarded spear, and from the safety of the shield wall she started to pick off the Amalites.

Darian sheathed his sword and quickly reached up and broke off the head of the arrow where it stuck out. Then he pulled the shaft from his arm. He ignored the pain, pulled his sword again and kept fighting.

* * *

It was late that afternoon before the battle was over. It was only then, looking around at the bodies, at the blood that covered her hands and body, that Jena was fully aware of the horror of what they had done. It was a bloodbath. The civilian population that hadn't been killed in the massacre had run into the woods to hide. She wanted a bath, and she wanted it now. She looked till she found Tarius, then cringed. Tarius was still in Katabull form and covered in blood from head to toe. Tarius had wiped the blood off her face with her hand, leaving her face a smear of red. Hestia stood beside her covered in almost as much blood and grinning like a devil.

Jena walked towards the assembled group and realized they were the leaders of the different troops, no doubt talking further strategy.

They had a map spread out on what was left of a wagon, and Tarius was talking. Jena walked up, wrapped her arms around Tarius, and lay her head on Tarius's back—the only part of her body that wasn't covered in blood. Then she just lay there silently. Tarius patted her hand reassuringly, but couldn't stop to comfort her in the middle of a strategy meeting, and Jena knew this.

"First we have to take care of our wounded. We have only ten, two of them serious," Tarius said. "Unfortunately both of our severely wounded are Katabull, so the sooner we can get them to Montero the better.

The other leaders quickly gave their tolls. In all, there were twenty-five casualties and thirty seriously injured.

"We will send the wounded back on one of the ships as planned," Hestia said.

Tarius nodded. "We will put the ships out in the harbor close enough that they can be here in minutes if we need to beat a retreat, but too far out to be easily boarded by Amalites. Fifty fighters will stay here in Armond burning the town and the dead . . ."

"Hold up, Tarius," Hestia said thoughtfully. "Let us not be too hasty in burning the buildings. If we leave a force to make sure the Amalites can't come in here and take over, we may be able to use the buildings in future. However if such an attack should come, and it looks as if our forces are being over run, let us then burn the town to the ground. The smoke of the burning will be a warning to us that all is not right."

"Good plan, Hestia. All right. We can make the civilian population carry their dead outside the town and stack them. That should serve as a warning to any Amalites who might think of riding in here," Tarius said. "We will stay here tonight and move out at first light as we planned. We will meet the other troops here, and together we will march to the Jethrik front."

"Tarius," Hestia cleared her throat a little. "Perhaps we should meet with the Jethrik leaders here at our rendezvous point. It is just inside Jethrik territory. They will know where the Amalites are and where we can do the most good. With their knowledge we will better our chances at success and stop them from killing our men by mistake."

Tarius took a deep breath and was silent. Jena, however, was not.

She walked around from behind Tarius. "You expect Tarius to meet with Persius and his lot to discuss strategy? Have you gone mad, Hestia?"

Tarius put a hand on Jena's shoulder. "She's right. It's the only way. Put us all together and let us discuss how best to kill the Amalites. I will do it. The real problem is that Persius will not meet with me if he knows it is me. Therefore, we must very carefully word our invitation so that he doesn't know it's me he is meeting with."

Jena stomped off in a huff. She went to find their wounded and see if she could help. She was surprised to see her father there among them. "Father," she said kneeling beside him. "Are you all right?"

"He's fine," Jazel answered before Darian could. "Didn't any one of you morons listen to my incantation? I specifically said 'If you do not wish to die, do not look into the sky.' Do I have to spell it out for you people? Do I have to specifically say, 'Don't look at the archers?' The specifics of the spell are that they can't get a good bead on you unless you make eye contact. There's no sense in having me along if you don't listen," she grumbled as she tended to Radkin's wound.

"You all right, Radkin?" Jena asked.

"Cracked ribs—that's all. But I'd be dead if it wasn't for your father," she said.

"It wasn't anything really," Darian said, blushing and looking at his feet.

"And with an arrow through his arm no less!" Radkin said.

"Wouldn't have had an arrow in his arm if he had listened to the spell," Jazel harrumphed. "I noticed that our good queen had three arrows sticking in her shield as well, so I guess this stupidity spans the classes."

Darian looked at Jena. "What about you, Jena? Are you all right?"

"It's a little overwhelming, but I'll be all right. Right now I'm more upset with what the Queen and the 'Great Leader' are discussing. They want to meet with Persius, and they want Tarius to be there," Jena said.

"I guess it makes sense that they would have to get together. Still, I can understand your misgivings," Darian said.

"Misgivings!" Jena screamed. "I hate him. I'm afraid he'll try to trick us to get at Tarius. I don't trust him."

"Jena, you don't have to trust him. Tarius can out-think and out-fight him in her sleep. If he wants to do her ill, he won't get the chance. There is nothing to worry about."

Jena nodded then asked,"Are you in much pain?"

"No . . . Ow! Damn!" Darian screamed out suddenly.

"Damn it!" Jazel screamed, throwing her hands in the air. "You have blown another of my spells."

* * *

"Word from the front, Sire," the court herald announced.

"Don't just stand there! Send him in." Persius steeled himself for still more bad news.

The herald ran into the throne room out of breath and knelt at the king's feet.

"What is it?" Persius asked impatiently.

"My king, word has come from our spies. The Kartik and Katabull armies have launched an attack against the Amalite seaports. All the ports have been destroyed, and they are moving inland destroying every Amalite stronghold they cross."

"Rise. Do we know who is in command of these armies?" Persius asked.

"They say it is Queen Hestia herself, and the Great Leader of the Katabull People who are in command. That the armies are huge and well armed and supplied," the herald answered.

Persius looked at Hellibolt. "It is good news, Sire. This may be just the help we need."

"Prepare my carriage and my guards. It is time for us to go to the front, Hellibolt."

* * *

They were three days out when they spotted a rider coming up fast. When he got close, they recognized him as a Kartik warrior wearing garish Kartik colors and black armor with silver studs. He jumped from his horse and started forward at a strong pace, leading his horse.

"Halt!" Derek cried out. He and his partner, Heath, were now in the king's guard, and Derek was the captain of this expedition.

"Do not try to stop me. I mean no harm. I am on my way with a message from my sovereign, Queen Hestia. It is to be delivered directly to King Persius," he said in broken Jethrik.

"Hold here for a moment."

The man stopped, and Derek rode back to the king's carriage. He relayed what the man had told him, and to Derek's astonishment, Persius stepped from the carriage and walked directly up to the young man with Hellibolt close behind him.

"I am King Persius, and I am on my way to the front. What message have you for me?" he asked carefully.

"Good Queen Hestia and the Great Leader of the Katabull nation do send this message. 'We have already taken hold of all Amalite seaports and are carving our way through their land. We wish to form an alliance with you that will serve all of our people. We will meet you in four days' time at Star Point. There we will discuss how best to fight the war against the Amalites.'"

"They wish to be our allies, then," Persius said.

"No, they wish you to be theirs," the man said with a smile.

"What is your name?" Persius asked.

"My name is Rimmy, and you must not detain me, for I am needed at the side of my leader," Rimmy said.

"Wait! I must ask you this one question before you depart. Is Tarius the Black amongst you?" Persius asked.

"I am assigned to my leader, and my leader's pack, and know nothing of other units," Rimmy answered. "Now I must go."

Persius watched him go. He led his horse a bit away from them before he jumped on and rode away. Some Kartik courtesy, he supposed.

"What do you want me to do, Sire?" Derek asked.

"Press on to Star Point. I really don't see what other choice we have," he said.

"But what of Tarius the Black?" Derek asked.

"What of her? We can not risk shunning the Queen of the Kartik and the King of the Katabull Nation because we are afraid we might run into Tarius the Black."

* * *

Any Amalite stronghold that fell between the Kartik/Katabull army and their destination was utterly obliterated. Kartik scouts were the best, and no unit came up on an Amalite stronghold unprepared.

All five troops met at Star Point with few, or in the case of the Marching Night no further casualties, and all had destroyed their given ports and killed many Amalites along the way as well. Two troops had burned their ports to the ground before getting orders to the contrary, but everything else was going as planned.

When their spotters sighted the Jethrik king's procession, they prepared to greet their visitors.

* * *

Persius got out of his carriage and rode his horse with only minimal armor, a sign of good faith on his part. Kartik soldiers came out to help them with their horses and gear, showing that Kartik hospitality was as good as rumor said it was.

The man they had met on the road before, Rimmy, came to greet them.

"Queen Hestia and the Great Leader will see you now," he said.

Persius wasn't used to being summoned this way, but swallowed his pride and put his entourage together. In a few minutes he and his people followed Rimmy. He walked in front, flanked by Derek on his right and Hellibolt on his left and the others followed with all the pomp and circumstance they could muster on such short notice. As they walked through the camp, the Kartik people moved aside forming a line on either side of them, and Persius realized it must be some sort of custom. It was strange—like walking into a sea of people and then having it part before him. He was sweating and realized he wasn't looking in front of himself, but in every other direction. He was searching the crowd, looking for Tarius the Black.

Finally the crowd parted for the last time. He heard Derek gasp beside him, and his head snapped forward. The Kartik queen and the Katabulls' "Great Leader" sat before him. The queen was a tall, dark Kartik woman. She wore the same gaudy gambeson and black leather armor as her people, but hers was of a finer quality and there was a jewel-encrusted gold crown on her head. Hestia was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, but that was not the reason Derek gasped.

Sitting to Hestia's right on the Katabull throne was Tarius the Black. She was wearing much the same armor as the rest of the army, but hers—like the queen's—was of a finer quality. Her pauldrons and knee cops were shaped like skulls that seemed to glare mockingly up at him. Except for the fact that she was now obviously a woman and the multiple piercings, she really hadn't changed at all. He thought about his own reflection these days. No trauma had been visited upon him. No arrow had invaded his body nor sword cut his flesh, yet in the last six years he had aged twenty. While Tarius had aged not at all.

Jena stood on her right hand and Harris on her left, both also bearing the signs of power and authority afforded them in the form of gold rings and better armor. Tarius glared at him with utter contempt, but it was the looks he got from Jena and Harris that made his blood run cold. Looks of pure hate and utter loathing.

"What is all this?" Persius demanded, waving a hand in Tarius's direction.

Hestia answered him in surprisingly good Jethrikian. "I knew you would not come if you learned that the Great Leader of the Katabull people, my trusted ally and war lord, was none other than the woman you ordered killed," Hestia said. "I also thought that seeing as you have little if any respect for women, especially women in authority, that you would be more likely to come if you believed you were being summoned by at least one man," Hestia answered.

Persius noticed to his disbelief that the queen's own husband stood at her left hand with nowhere to sit, while her champion stood on her right.

Persius' own throne was carried forward, and he sat down heavily.

Tarius was still silent.

"Now is not the time for personal whims or grievances," Hestia said. "We all have one enemy. An enemy who will never rest as long as even one fighting man among them lives. As long as even one of their children follow their gods. Are we all agreed?"

"Yes," Persius said grudgingly. He hated to admit to Tarius's face that she had been right.

Tarius just nodded silently.

"It is my plan to take the land of the Amalites and split it evenly between your country and mine. We will enter into a solemn pact that we shall not allow the teaching or worshipping of the Amalite gods. Those who are caught in any such practice are to be punished by death—no exceptions. Tarius and I are in agreement on these points," she said. "Are they agreeable to you as well, Persius?"

Persius thought about it a minute then nodded. "It seems a good plan."

"Then all that is left is to plan strategy," Hestia said.

Persius nodded. Suddenly, Persius could stand her silence no longer. He glared across the empty space between he and Tarius. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Tarius looked at him and smiled a sadistic smile. "What would you have me say to you? That I was right about the Amalites, and that you were wrong? That all this death, all this blood being shed now is your fault? That I find myself in the uncomfortable position of being allied with the person I hate most in this world? You know all that, so what's the point of rehashing it? Unlike you, I do only what is best for my people. I will put aside my feelings for you to do that, but know this Persius. I will be watching you." She stood up then.

"If you mean to kill me, do it now and release me from your awful curse!" Persius cried out getting to his feet as well.

Tarius smiled still larger. "I have no desire to kill you, Persius. Even if I did, a promise I made to one whom you take for granted stops me from doing so. Why would I kill you when living seems to cause you nothing but pain?"

* * *

They poured over the map. Tarius, Hestia and the rest of the Kartik leaders told what they knew of Amalite positions, and Persius, Derek and his men told what they knew. As they talked over positions and strategies, Tarius seemed to forget that he was her hated enemy, and just talked to him as she did the others. Jena, however, never once quit glaring at him, and neither, for that matter, did Harris.

Jena and Harris both stayed close to Tarius. In fact, Jena made sure that she and Tarius were in body contact at all times. Hard to believe that she had forgiven Tarius so completely. That she seemed to be more in love with her now than she had ever been before.

"We will bottleneck them and drive them into the field of the Battle of the Arrow," Tarius said. "You will deploy all your troops there."

"Why there? So that you can even be right about the very spot in which we fight them?" Persius asked hotly. "Why not the Valley of Grudon or the Plain of Tureen?"

"Where would you rather fight? On a battlefield where you have won, or on one where you have lost?" Tarius asked him, not looking up from the map.

"If you drive a defeated people into a battle on the very place they lost so horribly before, they will have no morale left," Hestia said. "Besides, it's the most logical place to make our final assault. That's why the Amalites chose it as the site from which to launch their campaign the last time you fought them."

Persius sighed and then nodded, admitting that on even this point they were right. Battle plans and strategies were hashed and rehashed until late into the night, but all the big decisions had been settled in a little less than an hour.

Persius couldn't sleep. Not too unusual, he hadn't had one decent night's sleep since he'd shot Tarius with that arrow. He wanted to sleep again. He needed to talk to Tarius. He wanted to try and apologize to her, but he couldn't have done that in front of everyone else and he didn't really know where to start. He felt the words would come when he saw her. What he really wanted was for Tarius to let him off the hook. To say that she forgave him for all that he had done. To say that she was partly, or even mostly to blame.

It wasn't hard to find the Marching Night's encampment, not with their skull banners and brightly colored flags. Getting in was another issue.

The man stepped in front of him, sword drawn and ready.

"I am Persius, King of the Jethrik. I am alone and unarmed. I wish to speak to her royal majesty, Tarius the Black," Persius stated.

The man laughed and held his sword up higher. He said something that sounded like a curse and pointed Persius back the way he had come.

"Now see here . . ."

"Are you insane, Persius?" a sleepy, half-dressed man asked.

Persius looked up at the man in shock. "Darian! Is that you?"

"Yes," Darian answered simply.

"We found your horse in Wolf Harbor. We thought you'd been killed and rolled for coin. How . . ."

"It's a very long story." Darian talked to the guard in Kartik, and he lowered his sword. Then Darian walked up to Persius, took him by the arm and led him a little away from the Marching Night's encampment. "OK . . . Walking through the Marching Night's camp at night alone, explaining that you are, well, who you are, and that you are looking for Tarius? Not your brightest moment. While Tarius is bound by oath not to kill you, none of them are, and they are very loyal . . . insanely loyal to her. Oh, and by the way, they hate you! You are the villain in their favorite story; the boogey-man that frightens their children."

"Darian, I ask again . . . What are you doing here?"

"OK. The short version. I went to Wolf Harbor looking for clues about Tarius, and therefore Jena. I ran into the Marching Night at a pub . . ." The short version was still very long. " . . . and so now I'm riding with the Marching Night. And no offense, Persius, but I intend to stay with them, and if I'm lucky enough to live I'll go back to the Kartik."

"I don't understand. Your daughter seems more taken with Tarius than ever, and after Tarius broke into your home, killed Jena's husband and kidnapped her!" Persius said.

Darian laughed nervously. "Well, that isn't exactly what happened. Actually, Jena killed Tragon and ran off with Arvon and Dustan to join Tarius in the Kartik. Seems Jena not only doesn't mind that Tarius is a woman, but actually prefers her that way."

"You lied to me, Darian," Persius said in disbelief.

"What was I supposed to do? Tell you my daughter had killed her husband and fled to be with your enemy?" Darian asked.

Persius sighed. "Tarius wasn't my enemy until I made her one." He found a rock, sat down and rested his head in his hands. "I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could go back in time and wipe it all away, but I can't. I want to apologize to Tarius."

"That's very noble, Persius, but Tarius is a person of action. Words mean very little to her, and I doubt there is any deed you could do that would win her forgiveness. She forgave me, but I neither revealed her to Jena nor shot the arrow into her. Do yourself a favor; go back to your camp and do not stray. There isn't a man or woman among the Marching Night or the Katabull Nation that wouldn't like to bring your head to Tarius on a pike," Darian said.

Persius nodded and stood up.

"I'll walk you back to your camp, just to be on the safe side," Darian suggested.

On the outskirts of the camp, Darian turned to walk back.

"Darian?" Persius called after him.

"Yes?" Darian asked turning to face him.

"Would you at least give her my message? Would you tell her that I know now that I was wrong. That I know it's not enough, but that I truly am sorry. That I wish her only the best," Persius asked.

"I'll tell her." Darian bowed deeply and walked away.

Persius went back to his carriage and lay down. He tossed and he turned, even more restless than he had been before. Hellibolt appeared seemingly out of thin air, sitting on the end of Persius' bed. Persius all but jumped out of his skin.

"Hellibolt! What in the gods' good names are you doing?" Persius screamed.

"Bringing you good news, but if you don't want it . . ." He raised his hands as if to snap his fingers and disappear.

"No, no! Please. I could use some good news," he said quickly.

"I have had a vision. In battle shall come your hour of redemption."

"What do you mean?" Persius asked.

"My words are clear. You must not hesitate. The moment will be fleeting, and if you miss it, then things will continue as they have been, and nothing will change," Hellibolt said.

"How will I know the moment?" Persius asked.

"You'll know it when it comes, and you must not hesiate even for a moment," Hellibolt said and then vanished again.

His words did nothing to help Persius sleep.

 

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