A Warrior's Way
It was Esgares Empire’s fault. They had rebelled against Almekia and
won. Now they sought to conquer the whole of Forsena, starting with
the west coast. That land was protected by New Almekia. But Esgares
had too many knights and too powerful monsters and they had worn the
smaller country’s defenses down to almost nothing.
In desperation, New Almekia’s knights had decided to attack Norgard,
the northern country. Norgard’s best-known fighters-Vaynard,
Luintail, and Guinglain-were engaged on the eastern frontier.
That leaves me to deal with the new threat, Brangien concluded. I’m
capable. Let those clowns from Padstow-or New Almekia, or whatever
they’re calling themselves-let them try their luck here.
The scouts reported the enemy’s advance in time for Brangien to
prepare. She chose Roadbull and Morholt to support her. The armies
they used were good, but not great; Vaynard had all the strongest
monsters with his offensive force. Still, the archer princess was
confident. She had the advantage of home turf.
Finally, the enemy warriors could be seen approaching. The monsters
looked strong, but not terribly strong. Brangien looked for the
knights. There was Meleagant, a black-armored lout who was powerful
but slow. Next was Glauze, a young cavalier who was relatively new to
combat. He was intelligent and brave, but his inexperience detracted
from his imposing presence. He could be dealt with. After a moment,
Brangien could make out her third foe. Her long brown hair was up in
a ponytail, her spear point gleamed, her blue armor shone in the
morning sun. She was Adilicia, the Death Lady, and Brangien felt a
tickle of fear as she watched the warrior woman striding grimly closer
to her and her allies.
Brangien liked to be the attacker, that was her style, but in this
case, waiting was smarter. She called on all of her discipline and
kept her troops in line. The enemy drew nearer. When they were just
out of range, Brangien fired a single arrow. It was an ancient
courtesy, and the three approaching knights appreciated the gesture.
They paused and raised their weapons. Then they charged.
The battle was so furious that it couldn’t last long. Brangien
focused on Glauze first, ignoring his monsters and the other knights.
The man in silver fought boldly, but couldn’t win against the press.
He fell hard under many attacks.
Too late, Brangien noticed that Adilicia and Meleagant were
concentrating on Roadbull. The stern bishop was fading fast.
Brangien and Morholt swarmed Meleagant’s exposed back. Roadbull went
down, and Meleagant followed him closely.
Very few monsters remained on the field. Adilicia formed her remnant
into a wedge and hurtled toward Morholt. Brangien attacked her flank
with monsters, magic, and arrows. Morholt was defeated, but he and
Brangien had taken out all of the opposing monsters.
Alone, Adilicia turned to face Brangien and her monsters. The
brown-haired lancer was obviously injured, but only determination
showed on her face. Brangien halted her monster force.
“You should retreat,” the white-haired archer called. “To continue
will win you only pain.”
“I like pain!” Adilicia yelled. She rushed at Brangien.
Panic rose in Brangien’s mind, but she thrust it aside and fired three
shots. The mighty Death Lady crashed to the bloody ground.
Small, dull aches shot through Adilicia’s body as she gradually
regained consciousness. She didn’t expect to be alive. But alive she
was, and not nearly as hurt as she had been when she’d been beaten.
“Aphelia?” the wounded lancer called. Her throat was dry; her voice
sounded dreadful. She opened her eyes and winced at the light. She
was lying on a huge, firm bed and covered with warm, green blankets.
Her injuries were bandaged.
Those details meant that she was not in her own bed, and Aphelia
hadn’t healed her.
And that probably meant trouble.
Adilicia sat up and leapt from the bed. Her head swam and she fell
back onto the mattress, cursing.
“Take it easy,” a vaguely familiar voice said. The brown-haired woman
turned toward the speaker. She was a young lady with short white hair
that held a hint of blue, like a glacier. This was her conqueror,
Brangien. The light-haired woman yawned and rose from her chair.
“Your breakfast is on its way,” she told her patient.
“I’m a prisoner, I take it?” Adilicia growled.
To her surprise, Brangien gave a warm and merry laugh. “Not at all,
noble warrior. I would never cage such a magnificent fighter. I am
just suggesting that you stay in bed for a while and eat. No one will
force you.”
“Sympathy from the enemy, how touching.”
Again, Adilicia was surprised. Brangien’s expression changed from
amused kindness to genuine pain. The Almekian lancer regretted her
caustic words.
“I am sorry,” she said quietly.
“It’s all right,” the archer replied. “In Norgard, we are not known
for our mercy or lenience. You have every right to be cautious. You
have every right to be angry.”
There was a knock. Brangien took the large tray from the servant at
the door and brought it to the bedside table. “Would you share a meal
with me, at least?” she asked.
“Thank you,” Adilicia accepted.
Most of the foods Brangien served were new to Adilicia, but they were
also quite good. The brown-eyed lancer asked about the strange fare.
“This is blue-bellied lobster. Over here is some bread made with
barley and tundra wheat. These are gulls’ eggs. Here, we have walrus
steaks with onion gravy. The thick beverage is mead, of course. And
this, my favorite, is eel and potato stew.”
“It all sounds bizarre, but it tastes great. I’ve never had
Norgardian cuisine until now.”
“I’m glad you like it, Lady; not everyone likes it.”
For a while, the two knights talked and ate very casually, as if they
had never been enemies. Brangien really enjoyed Adilicia’s straight
talk and honesty. Adilicia was impressed by Brangien’s generous
manners and sharp wit. She’d never met a princess to compare; indeed
she could hardly believe that Brangien was a princess. Before long,
Adilicia asked the question that her hostess had been dreading.
Brangien lowered her eyes when she heard it.
“Why am I here, instead of being in New Almekia?”
“I’m very sorry, Lady Adilicia, but New Almekia has been annihilated.”
With that, the icy-haired woman kept her eyes away from her guest’s
gaze, fearing what she might see.
“No.” The word was short, but the silence behind it quickly grew
longer and longer. Brangien didn’t feel as though she had a right to
speak. Adilicia was in shock. The two women continued to sit
quietly.
“I am to blame,” the brown-haired warrior said at last.
“You are not,” Brangien countered. “We had every advantage. We had
more monsters, more time to prepare, more experience on our home
ground, and more room to maneuver. You needed a miracle. They are
scarce these days.”
“Then it is your fault,” Adilicia accused.
“Partially, yes,” the archer admitted.
Adilicia lunged at Brangien. Pain assailed her as she reopened
several of her wounds, but her anger was greater. If she hadn’t been
weakened by sleep and injuries, she might have killed the bright-eyed
young archer. As it was, Brangien quickly grabbed Adilicia’s wrists
and waited for her fury to subside.
“Permit me to explain,” Brangien implored. “Please don’t injure
yourself further, Lady. I am not blameless, but I am not your enemy
either.
“When you, Glauze, and Meleagant attacked us, Cador, Esmeree, and
Soleil attacked you. Gereint, Batercus, and Lance himself tried to
stop them.
“They fought valiantly, though I realize that is little consolation.
They were outnumbered three to one and the knights of that…upstart
empire had too much magic. They did all they could.”
“My people,” Adilicia mourned. “My country. My friends. Why do I
exist? Everything is lost.”
Brangien put her arm around the tall lancer’s shoulders. “Not
everything! You still live, and that is a lot!”
“Spare me your crocodile tears and your pity. If you’d lost to me,
New Almekia would still exist. I will not forgive you.”
“I thought you were smarter than that,” Brangien said, her anger
rising. “I was defending my country. The Empire is the enemy.”
“I don’t want to hear it; vengeance is all that I want. I demand a
duel, Brangien!”
“Okay, if you refuse to see reason. I was scared of you before, but
now I wonder how I could’ve been afraid of someone so idiotic. ‘Death
Lady,’ prepare to die and earn your nickname.”
Adilicia’s temper flared past control. She threw a left hook that
caught Brangien’s chin and knocked her backward. In a flash, the
light-haired warrior was on her feet, charging the woman she’d saved.
A dagger appeared in her hand. Adilicia saw the blade and barely
avoided it, rolling quickly out of the way. The knife hit a pillow
instead, producing a fountain of goose feathers. The women grappled
ferociously, neither giving a millimeter. They traded punches and
kicks with no thought of defending themselves against the other’s
attacks. Brangien finally winded Adilicia with an elbow to the
throat. In a flash, she straddled the gasping lancer. She paused,
the dagger ready in her fist.
“Waiting for surrender? Are you hoping to hear me beg for mercy?
It’ll never happen!” Adilicia wheezed as defiantly as she could.
Without a conscious thought, Brangien leaned in and kissed Adilicia’s
mouth. The contact was brief but passionate, stealing both women’s
fury and leaving amazement in its stead.
“W-why did you do that?” Adilicia sputtered.
Brangien’s cheeks turned deep red. “I don’t know,” she replied
weakly. “But you are strong. And beautiful. And admirable. That
could have something to do with it.”
“Do you mean that?” Adilicia whispered.
“Yes. I never felt anything but contempt for a person I’d beaten
until I met you. You fought so heroically that I finally realized
that strong people can lose. And I felt bad because the odds had been
in my favor. So I sneaked you back to my bedroom suite, treated your
injuries, washed you, clothed you, mended your equipment, and…then I
prayed…that you would recover. So you see, you made me a better
person.
“What’s more admirable than that?”
“Thank you, Brangien. You’re right. Not dying in battle may not be
such a bad thing after all.”
“I’m glad I didn’t lose you…friend.”
“Let me fight at your side,” the brown-eyed lancer requested. “Only
if we give up has the Empire truly won.”
“Of course, I would be honored.” Brangien gave her new friend a hug,
though she was careful of Adilicia’s injuries. Suddenly, she giggled.
“What?”
“I was just thinking, ‘I’ve never fought next to such a good kisser
before.’”
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