Eyes of Ice, Heart of Fire

Chapter One: Unwanted Advances

The Great Hall of Argos was bustling with activity. Hundreds of people milled about, separated into their little packs arranged by geographic, social, or economic patterns which formed a kind of tapestry, if a person knew how to look at it.

Akantha had grown up in this hall, so seeing that tapestry, and exactly who was who had become second nature to her. Her icy blue eyes surveyed the chamber, taking stock of the present parties.

There were the local free warrior bands hoping to curry favor with her family, some from as far away as Lyconesia. Also present were the usual local figures, those families whose interests were so directly tied to the state of the Great Hall and its occupants that their entire livelihood depended on being present at events like these, just so they could offer some appropriately self-serving praise at the opportune moment. There was even a clan of grain farmers from the western edge of her mother’s Hold, who had recently found favor with one of Uncle Nykator’s lieutenants. Men only knows what bargain they had struck, since none of Nykator’s men were the most honorable of people.

She had to work hard to keep from reflexively spitting at the thought of Uncle Hypatios Nykator’s hand-picked group of cronies. She had never seen such a pompous group of self-important peacocks assembled in one place. And not only that, she had never found herself in such close proximity to their stink!

Still, Uncle Nykator was for all his faults, a competent Protector. No, if she was being honest with herself, Hypatios Nykator was a nearly legendary figure in Argos. He had not lost a single campaign during his time as an independent Warlord, he had unified the Tegean Host for the first time in a century, and his tenure as the Protector of Argos had been the most productive period in its history. His feats in personal combat were also unparalleled. Again, if she was being honest with herself, he was quite the catch for her mother.

Of course, he was still just a Protector for Akantha’s mother, Polymnia Sapphira Zosime. House Zosime had produced Argos’ Hold Mistresses for several generations. Protectors come and go, but the line of Hold Mistresses endures. Since the dawn of Men, it had been thus, and it was the only way her people had ever known.

Akantha was seated on a plain stool one step below the dais from her mother’s High Chair, as was appropriate for the First Daughter of a Hold Mistress. The High Chairs were beautiful, truly wonders to behold, having taken an entire family of craftsmen fifty years to complete. The dark red wood was the hardest in the world, and if fashioned into a proper weapon, it was capable of shattering even the hardest of stone. Naturally, it had taken awhile to work all of the intricate inlays and characters into the frames of the magnificent pieces.

Akantha’s stool, on the other hand, was plain. Four legs under a plain round section of tree trunk, with cross-braces for extra support. There was no polish, no cushion and no back upon which to lean while sitting. No intricate patterns engraved in the body of it, and even the wood used to construct it was common, good for little but fueling the fire to stave off a particularly cold winter.

And there was the message. A Hold Mistress is a ruler, a leader of humanity whose wisdom and foresight were all that stood between life and death in this harsh world. As such, she is deserving of splendid appointments, and the deepest of reverence. Without her, the world as they knew it would shatter, and the ravenous beasts of the wild (and even darker monsters) would descend upon their people and devour them whole.

A First Daughter, on the other hand, is a common thing. All families strive to produce strong daughters, so there is nothing special about a woman who has yet to accomplish anything significant in her life. Even the bearing of young warriors is an honor befitting proper station in her society. To be a young woman, even the First Daughter of a prominent Hold Mistress, was to be a common and uninteresting thing.

No, Akantha thought to herself, that’s not true. A First Daughter inspires all kinds of interest: the unwanted kind. She flicked her eyes over to the left side of the High Chair dais opposite her position, and had to once again repress the urge to spit.

Assembled there was the latest cadre of Uncle Nykator’s top men, each of them prancing about like ungelded stallions during rutting season, which is what they thought this was… figuratively, at the very least.

First there was Kallistos, the strutting, preening little rooster who believed himself to be the absolute pinnacle of manhood; and he expected to be treated as such by any woman he deemed fit to grace with his magnificent presence. She failed to stifle a laugh as her eyes ran up and down his overly stylized armor, resplendent with polished metals and brightly colored feathers, skins and furs. He was attractive, but the man’s narcissism was unbearable, even for the length of a single conversation. His skill with words was truly without peer among the ranks of Argos’ men, owing in large part to his mother’s political tutelage, who was the ruler of a Hold Minor in her own right.

Second was Kapaneus, whose presence sent a slight chill down Akantha’s spine. If there was a true successor to Uncle Nykator among his men, it was Kapaneus. He was ruthless, blunt and unyielding. In other words, he was the perfect warrior. His ego was overly large, but who could argue with his accomplishments? Uncle Nykator had all but spoon-fed him each and every step of his career, so it should come as no surprise to find them so strikingly similar. Still, his regard for women was not much better than a wild animal’s. He was therefore unfit to serve as Protector, in Akantha’s estimation.

The third man to usually stand at Uncle’s side, Nikomedes, was strangely absent. Nikomedes was not quite the warrior as Kapaneus, neither was he the prancing, silver-tongued serpent like Kallistos. Nikomedes, for all his abilities as a warrior (and they were significant) was never able to fully shine in the presence of these other men. True, it might have been due to the fact that Nikomedes had never been the most cunning of men, in fact that was one of the biggest reasons Akantha had not accepted his advances. But he was an honorable man. He was the only man among Uncle’s close circle who had even the barest shred of respect for tradition and honor. The other members of Uncle Nykator’s group merely used such concepts to advance their own agendas, a prime example being this entire charade of ‘presenting’ these men as viable candidates to the Hold’s First Daughter Akantha, who was the only daughter of her house who was old enough to become a Hold Mistress in her own right.

Akantha had already spurned each of these suitors in turn, but Uncle had insisted upon this farce of a presentation, citing some ancient custom whereby a reigning Protector of a Citadel could initiate such a proceeding in the interest of providing the daughters of the Hold Mistress with ‘first pick’ of recently honored warriors.

She had never heard of such an arcane law ever being invoked, but such things had become more commonplace in recent years, coinciding with the presence of yet another man in Uncle Nykator’s inner circle.

Her eyes narrowed as they fell upon what she believed to be one of the roots, if not the only root cause of this entire farce. The stiff, wizened form of Nazoraios, who was older than any man deserved to be, was never far from Nykator’s side. If she was being fair, Nazoraios was probably not much past his fiftieth year, and he still maintained a high physical standard as evidenced by his annual participation in the upcoming Stone Rhino hunt which saw each participating man hunt and kill a Stone Rhino with nothing but a single stone blade, as was the ancient custom. And yet, despite his physical condition Akantha found it especially fitting that at the very moment her eyes had found him, he was whispering something into her Uncle’s ear. While seeing Kapaneus could make her shiver, seeing Nazoraios made her blood boil.

A man had one purpose, and one purpose only: to protect those for whom he was responsible. As such, no man worth his weight in Stone Rhino hide would wish to see old age claim his life when he could spend it on the battlefield protecting those who rely upon him. Nazoraios was older than any warrior she had ever seen, and normally men of his age were unfit to serve on the field of war. A warrior who had gone past his prime battle years had no business at the heart of a Great Hall, in Akantha’s opinion. To his credit (and somewhat mysteriously in Akantha’s view) he had never failed to achieve victory when someone chose to challenge him in the circle, and he moved with the vigor of a much younger man.

But his wisdom was beyond question. Not only was he the most literate man in Argos when it came to matters of lore and tradition, but it was whispered that he had the Third Eye; an ability to see into the future and predict events. This was widely held to be at least part of the reason for Hypatios Nykator’s successes, but none dared speak such thoughts within earshot of any of her Uncle’s men.

Akantha heard a familiar giggle to her right, from the bottom of the steps which led up to the dais. She casually glanced over and saw a round, freckled face with curly red hair framing her plain features. It was the familiar face of her favored lady in waiting, Leonora, who had been Akantha’s closest friend since childhood. Akantha had always treasured their bond, and she only hoped that Leonora felt the same.

Leonora had clearly caught Akantha appraising the men surrounding Uncle Nykator, and had chosen to make light of the situation. Akantha scolded her with her eyes, but secretly she knew that she needed her best friend’s levity in moments exactly like these. The life of a First Daughter to the Hold Mistress was stressful, and Akantha often had difficulty controlling her emotions at times when she needed to present a calm, considered manner. Leonora had always helped her maintain a kind of balance, and she had come to rely upon her in difficult times.

Next to Leonora was Persus, the bodyguard who had been assigned to Akantha since she was barely more than a child. He was a large man, soft-spoken but strong. He was a good soldier, and another person Akantha had come to rely upon during her young life for advice and guidance, especially when it came to the affairs of men. He was not quite a father figure, more like an uncle – one who she actually liked. He never strayed from her side, and she rarely saw him out of his Stone Rhino armor. It was people like these that made the rigors of her life more bearable.

Her thoughts of friendship were rudely interrupted by her Uncle’s booming voice.

“Argosians! I believe it is time to conduct the business of the day,” Nykator declared in his imperious tone.

The milling groups seemed to flow like water down a hill toward the main dais where Akantha, her mother, and Nykator’s troupe were assembled.

After a short pause, Uncle Nykator continued. “We are assembled here from the distant corners of the Hold to celebrate the recent victories of our bravest warriors.” He paused momentarily to gesture toward his ‘finest’ men, who all looked sufficiently pleased with themselves. “On the morn of our victory two weeks ago, a festival erupted in the streets of the Citadel that will conclude this week’s end with the announcement of the Land Bride, Lady Adonia Akantha Zosime’s choice for her Protector!”

A round of applause erupted from within the assembled host of Argos’ leading citizens.

Akantha could barely contain her reaction. She could feel her face turning red at this latest bit of heavy-handedness by her Uncle, trying to back her into a corner by publicly pressuring her into compliance with his wishes. She took a deep breath and tried her best to regain composure before all eyes fell upon her.

But Nykator had apparently rehearsed this, as he promptly continued after the appropriate period of applause. “We have assembled the very finest suitors from the length and breadth of the Hold in an effort to assist our dearest First Daughter in her choice. Never has there been a finer assortment of capable warriors than those you see before you. Except, of course, the last time I was free to take up the role of Protector,” Hyopatios Nykator added with a smug smirk.

The sycophantic chuckles at this poorly-conceived joke were too much for Akantha to bear. She stood abruptly, making a pointed display of looking for someone but not finding them. “I beg your pardon Uncle, but I have not seen Nikomedes here. If, as you say, this collection is the finest warriors in the land, then I must ask where he is. Were I to have agreed to the timing of such an important announcement, I most certainly would have insisted on the presence of every noteworthy warrior from Argos.”

The buzz died down almost instantly as everyone recognized the challenge for what it was, which was almost enough to unnerve Akantha, but she was determined not to back down.

Nykator’s head turned slowly to Akantha, and even though he still wore a false smile, his eyes narrowed and he locked gazes with her. “Why, Lady Adonia, I had thought that since you were so interested in young Nikomedes, you would have perhaps heard that he left last month on a quest of Acclaim in an effort to win your hand through a gesture of action.”

Akantha’s throat tightened. She had not heard anything of the sort, since obviously she had not held any real measure of interest in Nikomedes until this particular moment, when his absence could be used to at the very least delay events. Nevertheless, she refused to allow this hiccup to slow her.

“A quest of Acclaim?” she asked in false bewilderment. “Now that, at the very least, would be worthy of consideration. Remind me, Uncle; what is his quarry? If he believes it would be sufficient to win my favor, it must be a truly remarkable quest,” Akantha said in her most formal tone, trying hard to keep overt defiance out of her voice.

Nykator’s eyes remained narrowed for a second, then he seemed to realize something and his expression changed slightly. “Dearest daughter-mine, like so many others who have pursued you in the past, Nikomedes felt you were as cold as mountain ice toward his advances. So, he set out to retrieve the sword of King Lykurgos, lost these past three centuries. It is said,” he continued, raising his voice and gesturing toward the assembled crowd in deliberate fashion, “that the fires of the mountain gave birth to the Dark Swords of Power during the first age of Men, and since there is only one such blade unaccounted for, he has made it his life’s goal to retrieve it in the hopes that the fires of the mountain might yet live on in the blade. He hopes it might thaw your frozen heart.” Nykator smirked triumphantly.

A Dark Sword of Power? Akantha thought, momentarily taken aback. It had been many decades since the discovery of the last such blade, and the chance to become Sword Bearer to a Protector who could boast possession of such a potent artifact would indeed pique her interest. It would not be enough on its own, but it would most certainly be enough to tip the balance if other things were close to equal. Nikomedes might be cleverer than I thought, Akantha mused silently.

“The sword of King Lykurgos,” she said slowly, trying desperately to find a way to parlay this into an advantage. “And you say he left last month? That is hardly enough time for him to complete such an epic task. The discovery of the last Dark Sword of Power was reputed to have taken fifteen years from the day those noble warriors set out to reclaim it.”

“Are you saying you would save yourself for Nikomedes for fifteen years, Adonia?” Nykator interrupted. “That would hardly do for the First Daughter of Argos, or her people.” His sneer was so thinly veiled that Akantha felt her face flushing yet again. She made to snap a reply but was cut off unexpectedly.

“You are correct, Hypatios,” came the smooth, ethereal voice of Akantha’s mother, Polymnia Sapphira Zosime. Akantha could hardly believe her ears; her own mother was siding with Uncle Nykator at a time like this! She turned to her Hold Mistress, feeling steam coming out of her ears, but her mother continued steadily.

“It would not do for the First Daughter of Argos, Land Bride of Messene and scion of House Zosime to leave her twentieth year without having accepted a Sword from a worthy Protector.” Polymnia’s face was perfectly composed, as though she were reading a report on annual grain production from the outlying provinces, rather than discussing the fate of her eldest daughter.

Akantha could not believe what she was hearing. Was she no more than a piece of meat to be bartered away in a timely fashion, lest she should spoil at market? She had always believed her mother understood her reasons for resisting earlier advances by warriors like these, but now she wasn’t sure.

Polymnia continued calmly, “My Protector, Hypatios Nykator, has indeed assembled a fine crop of warriors from whom you may choose to become your first Protector. It is time you assume your rightful place among the Hold Mistresses of these lands, that our people may benefit from your wisdom and abilities.”

Akantha seethed at this betrayal. “My mother must understand that I cannot in good conscience make a selection when one of the finest warriors in the land is unavailable,” she said through gritted teeth.

Her mother simply smiled and gave a slow tilt of her head as she made to reply, but she was cut off by her Protector. “It is unfortunate that Nikomedes is not here, but he made his choice,” Nykator said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “All warriors know the risks associated with an expedition into our harsh wilderness, and he knew it was possible that this would happen while he quests. You bring dishonor on yourself by hiding behind his absence, daughter-mine!” Nykator roared this last rebuke.

Akantha was in a rage by now, and completely unable to control her emotions. Her voice became like a serpent’s as she hissed, “I’m sorry to have disgraced my family in such a manner. Please accept my apology, as well as my promise to not bring further shame with my presence in the Great Hall!”

With that, she turned and stomped out of the hall, followed only by Leonora and Persus.

Chapter Two: The Bonds of Friendship

Akantha threw open the door to her chambers and marched into the room. Leonora was only two steps behind, and she closed the door much more gently than it had been opened, while Persus assumed his standard post out in the hallway.

“Am I so low!?” Akantha shouted at no one in particular. She grabbed a nearby clay pot and hurled it against the wall, finding great satisfaction in the sound it made when it struck the wall, as well as the sound of the pieces scattering across the stone floor of her chamber. “Everyone seems to know what is best for my life except for me!” She pulled the dagger from her belt and hacked into the wooden table on which the shattered pot had sat moments before, slicing and stabbing in a series of exaggerated, violent motions. After five or six hits, the tip of the blade became stuck in the wood and she had to stop her assault in order to retrieve the weapon.

“My lady,” began Leonora patiently, but Akantha cut her off.

“Don’t start, Lea,” she snapped, rounding to face Leonora. Akantha was obviously beyond reason, but she had forgotten about the dagger. Her eyes were as red as her cheeks, and if there were a pot of water on her head, it would likely be at a brisk boil by now. “I don’t need another person telling me what to do, or how to be!”

“You know I don’t judge your thoughts, my lady,” Leonora said calmly. “It’s not my place to do so and even if it were, I wouldn’t.” Leonora’s features were as calm as the surface of a summer lake, but her eyes were as hard as a thousand year old glacier.

Akantha reached for another pot to hurl, but paused before her fingers touched it’s clay surface. Her eyes narrowed and she turned slowly to Leonora. “So you would not judge my thoughts, but rather my actions? Is that what you’re saying, Lea?” Akantha could barely control her voice, she was so outraged.

Leonora’s eyes locked with Akantha’s and she held her gaze for a moment before tilting her head in acknowledgment. “As I have always known, my lady is wise,” the handmaiden said softly.

Akantha’s heart had slowed only slightly, but thoughts of further pottery and furniture deconstruction had left her head. “Go on then, Lea. How do you find my actions wanting? Please, I invite your learned judgment,” she spat as venomously as she could.

Leonora was unfazed, and began to slowly walk into the room past Akantha, toward the simple bench next to the window. Akantha remained exactly where she had been, furious at the thought of her best friend failing to offer any kind of solace in this, one of her most difficult moments.

“My lady has known for years that this day would come. Your mother has supported you at every turn in the past and she was right to do so, just like she is right today. It is time for you to take your place among the Hold Mistresses and establish your own claim on these lands.” She sat down on the wooden bench before continuing, “You cannot do that without a capable Protector,” Leonora said coolly. “The World of Men is not a kind or forgiving place, and even with the best warriors and the most capable leadership, most Citadels fail to survive their first decade.”

“You think I need you to tell me that, Lea?” Akantha interrupted. “Really, I had expected more of your proffered wisdom than this,” she spat.

Leonora continued in the same calm tone with which she had begun. “Your sisters-“

“Half-sisters,” Akantha corrected abruptly.

Leonora cocked her head for a moment. “What do you mean by that?”

Akantha opened her mouth to say something hot, but she stopped herself. Her shoulders slumped a little and she turned to the bench on which Leonora was sitting. “I don’t know, Lea. They’re my sisters, even if Hypatios Nykator is their father.” She sighed and began walking toward the window. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have insulted you just now,” she apologized before sitting down on the end of the bench opposite from her friend.

Leonora smiled, and Akantha found herself once again jealous of her best friend’s appearance. The freckles which covered Leonora’s face, the curly dark red hair which seemed to be always bouncing, and her not particularly striking features combined to present a very plain, simple looking girl of average height and build. But appearances were deceiving, as Leonora was stronger than average and possessed tremendous reflexes which Akantha had also envied since she was a young girl.

Akantha, on the other hand, had straight blonde hair, blue eyes and skin that looked as white as Stone Rhino tusk under the winter sun. She was taller than average, and her frame was more than proportional for her height. But Akantha would never be confused with a man, which was also a burden at times. It seemed that any proper-fitting clothing accentuated features she sometimes wished she could hide, prompting cowardly whispers about her future child-bearing prospects. She hated the attention her appearance often brought, but she knew that such attention was also at least in part due to her station in Argos’ society.

But being judged on her appearance, and being told how she ought to fit into society had always struck a rebellious bone somewhere deep within her. She knew that she was capable, and she knew the responsibilities she was destined to bear. Akantha didn’t recoil from those responsibilities in the least; in fact, they were the only good thing about being born into the life her mother had given her. She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to take her place among the leaders of the world and prove herself to be just as capable as her ancestors.

“It’s all right, my lady,” Leonora replied, still wearing her sweet smile. “This has been a stressful day, and from the look of things tomorrow’s not going to be any easier.”

Akantha nodded her head and forced a laugh. “No, I don’t think it will be.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she looked out the window, seeing the Argos Citadel in all its splendor.

Every rival Hold Mistress was envious of Argos for its geographic location, which provided consistent water for the surrounding farmland through a series of streams and small rivers, and the Hold was afforded a strong defensible position at every possible approach.

The terrain was conducive to growing grains in the summer, and there were even some grasses which managed to survive deep into the winter, allowing Argos to maintain a much larger quantity of livestock than her neighbors, making all forms of industry and agriculture more productive than they might otherwise be.

Argos had seen her share of wars in the past, but under the rule of Polymnia Zosime and the protection of Hypatios Nykator, no conflict had ever really threatened the safety of the Hold. The people were strong and hard workers, applying themselves even more diligently to their daily labors as a result of the high degree of security afforded them by their leadership.

And that was what House Zosime owed her people: strong leadership and sage guidance. Without Zosime’s rule, Argos’ enemies would descend upon her like a plague and destroy everything the Argosians had worked so hard to achieve.

“Why should I have to choose from among Nykator’s men? It’s not fair!” Akantha blurted before thinking. She really wished she could gain better control of her tongue at times.

Leonora nodded, sympathy crossing over her features for a moment. “You’re right, it’s not fair.”

“Then why?!” Akantha continued, forcing the impulse to smash the glass window with her fist to pass harmlessly into and out of her mind.

“Because it is tradition,” Leonora said simply. “Because it is what the people need from you.”

“The people need for me to accept one of those sycophantic, self-serving animals as my most trusted companion and ally?” Akantha said sharply, but she took a breath to calm herself before she got too hot under the collar. “What are you saying, Lea? I am sure I don’t yet have your full meaning.”

Leonora smiled again, this time with a flicker of fire in her eyes. “The people need for you to be strong, and to make the best choice you can, given the circumstances. Life is not about doing what is best; it’s about doing the best you can with what you have.”

“So you’re saying I should allow Uncle Nykator to choose my Protector for me?” Akantha snapped.

“No, my lady. I am saying that if you want to be the leader your people need you to be, you must do the best you can with what is available to you,” Leonora reiterated smoothly. “And you must let the people see you do so.”

Akantha thought about this for a moment before clenching her fist and beating it gently against the window sill. “Am I nothing more than a piece in a game, or a trophy for one of those self-absorbed men who fancies himself a hunter closing in for the kill?” Her teeth were gritted, but she was losing the fire with which she had entered the room.

Leonora found Akantha’s gaze and held it for awhile before quirking her lips. “A piece in a game, most certainly. But…” the freckle-faced lady in waiting paused and then giggled.

“But what?” Akantha asked shortly, her patience wearing thin.

“Akantha…you’re the hunter,” said her closest friend in the world.

Chapter Three: Whispers in the Dark

All of the denizens of the Great Hall had retired shortly after nightfall, so the hallways and corridors were peaceful and quiet, as even the night guards seemed to appreciate the sense of serenity which can only be found in dark silence.

Akantha had been unable to sleep, even after the talk with Leonora which had brought about its usual calming effect. So she had decided to go for a walk in the Shield Hall since it was thankfully empty of people at this time of night. She desperately needed to find an answer to the question of how to get out of this mess.

She was still furious with her mother for what she considered an open betrayal, but she thought she understood her Hold Mistresses reasons more clearly after speaking with Leonora. At the time it had seemed to be nothing short of out-and-out betrayal, but Akantha knew that there was wisdom in all of her mother’s actions, and she also knew that her mother wanted what was best for her.

Her bodyguard Persus accompanied her as always. He kept behind her a few steps as they made their way through the corridor toward the Shield Hall, as was protocol. He had been another stabilizing force in Akantha’s life and she had come to value his council when he offered it, which was a rare occurrence.

The standards and banners of the various clans of Argos were displayed in the traditional fashion across the walls and rafters, and even the light from Akantha’s candle was enough to make out their many colors and patterns.

Persus kept his distance, and was careful to avoid looking into the small flame Akantha held in her hands, as doing so would temporarily hinder his vision in the darkness. During the day, torches and sconces lining the room filled it with as much light as was required for the day’s events, but at night the fires were put out to avoid wasting resources.

Akantha eventually found herself standing at the dais where the High Chairs were, and she stopped for a moment to consider what they represented. At that moment, she felt she understood the weight of leadership better than she ever had, even though her entire life had been spent in preparation for ascension to the same rank her mother held. The endless lectures on history, agriculture, engineering and commerce had given her all the knowledge she would need to lead her people in their daily struggles for as many years as she was able. And her experience in the Great Hall of her mother’s people had given her more political savvy she had ever wanted.

She stood there in quiet thought for a few moments before her ears picked up on an unusual murmur of conversation coming from one of the adjoining dining halls. It was very faint, which was why it even registered to her as unusual. It was not entirely uncommon for people to walk about in the middle of the night, but there was rarely a need to keep one’s voice quiet since the sleeping quarters were located far enough away as to not disturb those who rested.

She signaled Persus and he nodded, confirming that he had also heard the conversation, but he shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn’t know who it was or what they were talking about.

Akantha quietly removed her feet from the slippers she wore so as not to make as much noise and doused the candle with a quick puff of air. She then padded barefoot toward the dining hall until she could see a flicker of candlelight coming from within. Akantha was almost immediately certain she recognized the slightly cracking voice of the old advisor Nazoraios. She continued approaching until she was also able to recognize the voice of Uncle Nykator.

“My Lord has ever demonstrated the utmost wisdom and cunning, both on the battlefield and in the Great Hall,” came the voice of Nazoraios, and his sycophantic platitudes were almost enough to make Akantha snort out loud, but she reined in her impulse to do so.

“Your simpering has a place in public, Nazoraios,” said Nykator condescendingly. “But I know what I have done as well as what I have yet to do, and the self-serving words of an old man are not why I agreed to meet you here. Be quick with your offering, lest I lose patience with you.”

“Forgive me, Lord,” Nazoraios said after a short pause, “it was not my intention to offend, and as always I will do my utmost to avoid wasting your time. To be blunt, I have asked you here, in secret, because I have seen a peculiar star this night, and I believe its meaning cannot be misinterpreted.”

“You brought me from my bedchambers to talk of stars?” Uncle Nykator began coldly. “Old man, you have proven a useful resource in the past, but in recent months I find your council to be increasingly less valuable. Are you so desperate to maintain your position at court that you would speak to me of prophecies scrawled a thousand years ago in the entrails of diseased livestock?” he continued, his hissing voice accompanied by the sound of a small blade being unsheathed.

“I am neither sick, nor feeble,” Nazoraios countered sharply. “My name is listed on the battle roster, and I can still carry a blade into battle. In my younger days, I served in the front lines and earned my honors through combat with the enemy! To draw a blade on an unarmed man sworn to your cause-“

There was the sound of a scuffle, followed by a muffled cry.

“Your days of renown are not only gone, but long gone,” Nykator growled coldly. “Say something which holds my interest, or I will cut your meandering tongue from your serpent’s mouth!”

“My Lord, you may of course do with me as you see fit,” Nazoraios quickly replied, his voice little more than a dry croak, suggesting Nykator had him by the throat. “My life has been sworn to yours for longer than even I can recall, and if its best purpose is for you to snuff it out to satisfy your honor, then place a blade in my hand and we can settle this as men. However,” he quickly added, “I would ask that you hear out the ramblings of this old warrior one last time, before striking the blow which sends me to my grave.”

There was a silent pause, and for a moment Akantha was tempted to get close enough to actually see the scene, but caution won out and she remained quiet and still.

“Out with it then, Nazoraios,” Nykator growled.

Nazoraios made a slight choking sound as he caught his breath, but quickly continued. “The star I have seen is the same one that has been reported at various times in our history. It moves sluggishly against the natural path of the falling stars, and it burns with a green light.” Nazoraios paused, took a deep breath and continued in a quieter voice. “Not only did its course and color demand attention, but it clearly slowed as it approached the ground in the direction of the western farm holds. In fact, I believe it fully stopped just before the foot of the mountain which buttresses that edge of our territory.”

Nykator breathed in, a deep hissing sound. The conversation paused for several seconds, and Akantha’s mind raced with the meaning of what Nazoraios said.

“Is there any doubt?” Nykator asked evenly. “Be careful with your next words, Nazoraios. They will decide much of your future.”

“There can be no doubt, my Lord,” Nazoraios quickly replied. “The Sky Demons have returned.”

Akantha felt a lump in her throat. Sky Demons? she thought. She had heard stories of them when she was a little girl, but had come to believe they were nothing more than stories or fanciful tales meant to give people boundaries in their lives. If they were real, and if they truly were here, then it would give every soothsayer and self-professed prophet ample excuse to declare these days to be the end times, when all people would be returned to the Stars of Men.

“Name of Men,” Nykator cursed. “How long ago did you last see the star?”

“At first I thought it would pass over the mountain and out of our lands, but I am certain that it came to rest on our side of the pass no more than one hour ago. I only delayed my informing you because of the hour, and I did not want others to learn of this event before you could compose your response,” Nazoraios said stiffly.

“How many others can know of this?” Nykator demanded, his voice rising above a whisper for the first time.

“The watchmen of our signal towers may have witnessed it, but we cannot be certain due to the heavy rainclouds between here and the mountain,” Nazoraios mused. “The farmers at the mountain’s base will have seen it, and most certainly have dispatched their emissaries already, to beseech our aid. At this time of year, they could arrive at our steps within two days, if the weather holds. It would be three days if the weather continues to build and the rivers overflow.”

Akantha remembered reading about two occasions in the last two hundred years of recorded history when it had been reported that Sky Demons came to the world. The more recent event was widely believed to have been part of an elaborate hoax orchestrated by the rival state of Lyconesia, as they used the sighting of a strange falling star as an opportunity to burn several farm holds and a season’s worth of grain production. The stories spread far and wide, and before anyone could examine the evidence, it seemed the entire world believed it was genuine.

The older event was less well-known. Riders had arrived at the spot where the demons had supposedly made their way into the world, and had found nothing at all. There were no trees, no crops, and no life of any kind anywhere in the farm hold, when there should have been fields full of newly planted crops and dozens of people, along with their livestock. All that remained were empty buildings which yielded little information.

The written record indicated that the warband dispatched to deal with the threat had found no sign of fire, or any other telltale signs of how everything and everyone had been removed. The leader of the expedition wrote, ‘It was as if the sky had opened its maw and swallowed everything which interested it, leaving behind nothing but broken dirt and empty building.’ That particular passage had stood out in Akantha’s memory, as it was generally believed to have been the origin of the name her people had given to the phenomenon.

“So if we sent a team now, it would be at least two days before they arrived,” Nykator mused. “If we wait for their emissaries to arrive before sending a party, it doubles the delay before our warriors could respond to a minimum of four days. It could be as long as seven days with poor weather and enough fear to cause extra deliberation at court over the notion of battling nightmares from children’s tales.”

Nazoraios paused before replying. “Surely my Lord wishes to deal with the threat expediently,” Nazoraios prompted. “If word were to spread, it could cause months or even years of unrest among the populace, should the doomsday prophets be allowed to spin their webs of lies and deceit.”

Nykator snorted. “No, we wouldn’t want old fools to be spinning lies and causing unrest, would we?” he said derisively. “If this is a real threat and the end times have indeed arrived, there is no need to rush off foolishly to face them. If the Sky Demons are actually the harbingers of the end times, then a handful of warriors exhausted from a forced march will not be enough to stop their incursion.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “If, on the other hand, this is not the beginning of the end of things, then causing public alarm and panic will serve no one but our very real and very dangerous enemies like the Lyconese.”

“I would caution my Lord against dismissing this threat,” Nazoraios warned. “If there is even a chance that the Sky Demons have returned, then we must prevent word of their arrival from spreading!” The old man’s voice croaked more loudly than it had previously, as he obviously pleaded with his Lord to heed his warning.

“I believe in the threats I can see, and those I can fight,” scoffed Nykator. “What is the sense in worrying about demons and faeries? If they appear on the field of battle, I will crush them as I have crushed all who oppose me. If they do not appear, then I have more pressing matters to attend.”

“So my Lord will await the arrival of the emissaries, then?” Nazoraios asked with defeat in his voice.

“Yes, old man. We will await the arrival of the emissaries before composing our response” replied Nykator in a threatening tone. “Perhaps your eyes have aged more poorly than the rest of your ancient body, and rather than leading my men in the glorious slaughter of an invading demon army, I will instead content myself with the public execution of one hysterical, would be soothsayer.”

Akantha heard the footsteps of her uncle as he exited the dining hall, his impromptu meeting apparently concluded, and she made her way quickly to cross the Great Hall as quietly as possible. Persus followed, and they made their way to her chambers as quickly as they could without drawing attention.

This could be the answer she had been looking for.

A few minutes after Akantha had left the Great Hall, the oldest man in the Citadel stepped out of the doorway which led to the room in which he and Nykator had just conversed. He moved quietly, and his motions were not those of an old man, but those of a man not long out of his prime. Every year of Nazoraios’ long adulthood had been spent in preparation for what must be done, and he was closer to achieving those goals than at any other point of his life.

But there were certain issues which must be settled before those plans could proceed, and it required the delicate handling of very sensitive matters. Men like Nykator were invariably a part of the process, but they could not be trusted with any more than was absolutely necessary, even if their loyalty was without question. There were always secrets hidden in the shadows, and it was among those secrets where Nazoraios had found his calling.

It was in those shadows, here in the midnight darkness of the Great Hall, that he found came upon what he was looking for: proof that his plan was proceeding as he required.

He bent down lithely and picked up two simple objects which would not have meant much to anyone except for himself. He turned them over in his hands and a smile crept across his face.

Yes, he thought to himself, all is proceeding as it must.

He turned toward the hallway which held his private chambers and tucked the fine leather slippers into the fold of his tunic. Only two residents of the Great Hall wore such fine footwear: the Hold Mistress and her First Daughter, Akantha. Identifying who this rather large pair belonged to was a simple matter, as the Hold Mistress’s feet were far smaller than her eldest daughter’s.

Chapter Four: A Course of Action

As she returned to her chambers, Akantha beckoned Persus to enter and he did so without argument. It was only the second time he had ever been inside her chambers, and it was against tradition for a bodyguard of the Daughter to the Hold Mistress to enter her chambers unless it was a true emergency.

This, they both knew, was one of those.

Akantha quickly roused Leonora from her slumber, and after she was awake they sat in the chairs located in the entryway to her more private chambers.

Leonora listened intently as Akantha described the conversation between the High Protector and old Nazoraios. To her credit, she only blanched once during the telling, and it was at the mention of a slow-moving green star. Akantha was proud for a moment of her best friend’s attention during history lessons.

“So Nazoraios clearly believes the Sky Demons have returned,” mused Leonora. “And Nykator does not wish to cause alarm or panic in the populace, which would most certainly accompany the public deliberations regarding how many troops to send, and how to compose the battle strategy.”

Akantha nodded. “Or so he says. Uncle Nykator has never shown any sign of fear in the years I have known him, but the mention of Sky Demons seemed to unnerve him,” Akantha said. “Perhaps he is beginning to lose his warrior’s heart,” she spat.

Persus chose this time to interject himself. “My Lady, if the High Protector is as concerned as he appeared to be, then the threat is grave,” he warned in his smooth, unusually deep voice. “Your Mother chose his sword to bear over others because he is unquestionably the most fearless man in the known world and his accomplishments are without equal, outside of fanciful legends told to little boys to make them feel inadequate.”

Akantha was momentarily stunned. Persus had always been reluctant to participate in conversations such as this one, and he had never openly contradicted her as far as she could recall. She drew her breath slowly, her eyes darting this way and that as her mind worked frantically to untangle this mess of information.

Leonora nodded. “I agree with Persus,” said the freckle-faced handmaiden. “If Hypatios Nykator does not eagerly don his armor in the middle of the night at the opportunity to yet again prove himself the greatest warrior who ever lived, then we must also give heed to caution. We would be fools to do otherwise,” she said flatly.

Akantha actually agreed with her, but this was too great an opportunity to pass by. “I have come to value your insights, Leonora. And yours, Persus,” she said with a meaningful look at each of them. “I would hear your recommendations now.” She shifted her gaze to Leonora first, prompting her to go first.

Leonora slowly nodded for a few seconds. “My Lady is correct in believing this to be a great opportunity. The value in merely chronicling a sighting of these Sky Demons would be immeasurable, as describing them and their behavior could help future generations deal with their malignant threat.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “And if it is possible, then we must try to protect your mother’s loyal subjects, even at the cost of personal safety.”

Akantha nodded, trying desperately to contain the surge of emotion she was feeling. She had to remind herself that this was not the time for brash actions. She needed to keep a level head and do as she was raised to do. She shifted her gaze to her bodyguard. “And you, Persus?”

Persus chewed his cheek, as was his habit during contemplation, Akantha had learned. “Leonora is correct: this is a great opportunity,” he said finally. “I do not believe we can defeat the Sky Demons without the support of multiple free warrior bands at the very least. But if we could learn of these monsters and their ways, we could bring back valuable information which could help in the development of defense strategies for the Hold.”

Akantha nodded, a savage smile spreading across her lips. At last, she thought to herself, an opportunity to force Nykator to remove himself from his position as Protector of Argos.

Persus sighed, a barely perceptible sound that snapped Akantha from her thoughts.

“What is it, Persus?” she inquired.

Persus paused before replying. “If Nikomedes had not left, he would be ideally suited to this task,” he said cautiously.

Akantha blinked, “What do you mean?” she asked.

“He sought to prove himself worthiest among warriors to become your Protector,” he continued. “This would have provided him a far better opportunity than questing after a long-lost artifact.”

Akantha finally took his meaning and her smile disappeared, being replaced by a hard look which hid behind it growing anger. “You think we are not capable to undertake this task, Persus?” she began coldly. “You believe Nikomedes, or Kapaneus or even that preening fool Kallistos would be better able to deal with this?” Her anger was rising, but she worked hard to keep her thoughts clear.

Persus sighed again, and this time it was a louder sound which carried with it resignation. “My Lady, I believe that the three of us are every bit as capable as whatever band Hypatios Nykator would assemble to deal with the threat,” he said earnestly.

Akantha waited for him to continue, but when he failed to do so she prompted, “But?”

“But, you are the First Daughter of Argos, and the only member of House Zosime’s inheriting line who did not spring from Nykator’s loins,” he said levelly. “You are more valuable to Argos than any band of young warriors ever could be.”

Akantha raised an eyebrow at this. “Am I more valuable than the farmers who plow our fields? Or the craftsmen who fashion the arms and armor which make our warriors the most fearsome in the land? Or the women who bear and raise our young, those who will one day take their places in our society?” She paused as she held her bodyguard’s gaze with eyes which contained pure fury. “No, Persus. I am not more valuable than they are. What I am is responsible to them as their First Daughter and Land Bride; responsible to lead them, to care for them and in difficult times, to protect them,” she said in a voice which did not invite argument.

“Akantha,” began Leonora, only to be cut off.

“No!” Akantha yelled, jumping to her feet. Her handmaiden and bodyguard sat there in silence for a while.

She reined in her emotions for a moment, took a breath and continued when she was sure she had control of her temper. “We owe it to our subjects to take action on their behalf, and not hide behind excuses or fear. It is our duty as their leaders. If we fail them in that regard, we are little better than savage animals wandering the land in search of our next meal,” she said, feeling her face flushing as she struggled to explain herself to her closest advisors. I shouldn’t have to tell these people this! she thought to herself angrily.

Leonora opened her mouth to respond, but Persus held up a hand which quieted her. “My Lady,” Persus began, “I am sworn to your service, not to the Citadel or even House Zosime. My oath is one which I did not take lightly, or without understanding of what it might one day mean.” He stopped as he visibly struggled to compose his next words. “You asked our advice, and I only offered what I thought was best for Argos and her people. But if you are committed that we are to undertake this task personally, then I am eager for the opportunity to serve my Lady.” He cracked a smile and continued, “I would offer to undertake this mission personally if I thought you would accept, but I know you well enough that to do so would be a waste of air and, more importantly, precious time.” He stood and held his right fist over his heart, “Shall I retrieve your armor and prepare travel gear for three?”

Akantha smiled and looked to Leonora. Her best friend grinned and nodded, and Akantha had to fight to keep the mist in her eyes from forming tears. “Thank you, Persus. We should meet somewhere we will not be noticed by prying eyes. Secrecy is of the utmost importance,” she said in a more commanding voice than she would have liked.

He nodded. “The old lodge house just outside the Citadel walls, then. I will have everything behind the livestock stables there within the hour.” With that, he turned to the door, opening and closing it almost silently as he made his way down the hall.

Akantha breathed out, and felt the tears that had been forming fall down her cheeks. Shedding tears was not how she had intended to start this adventure, but the avalanche of emotion was just too much for her to bear at the moment.

“Akantha,” Leonora said softly, striding over to where Akantha was sitting and kneeled in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

Akantha laughed and quickly wiped away her tears. “Nothing’s wrong, Lea. I’m just so proud! We can finally make a difference for Argos,” she gushed, then her visage turned hard. “And if we can ruffle a few feathers among my Uncle’s men, so much the better,” Akantha said icily. “I will not stand by while those whose sworn duty it is to protect our people hide in this fortress. If Nykator refuses to take up arms at the opportunity to do battle with our enemies, then he is not fit to be Protector to my mother! When we return with evidence of his cowardice, my mother will have everything she needs to dismiss him from his post. What she does with such evidence is her choice, but I intend to bring it!”

Leonora nodded and then chuckled. “Of course, there is no harm in the First Daughter and Land Bride acquiring her own battle honors in the process, right?” asked the red-headed handmaiden.

Akantha glared at her for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and let a hint of a grin play out over her features. “Who am I to argue with my lady in waiting?” Akantha asked playfully.

They laughed for a few moments before going about the task of preparing themselves for the journey ahead.

Chapter Five: The Driving Rain

Akantha cursed under her breath as she lost her footing on the muddy slope she was climbing. The weather had indeed become worse, as Nazoraios had warned Nykator was possible. The three of them had been traveling for nearly a full day, and while the physical exertion was not as exhausting as Akantha had feared it would be, the never-ending series of rocky hills and muddy slopes was enough to tax her mentally.

Persus took up his position several meters in front of her, and Leonora was bringing up the rear by the same margin. Persus had gathered plenty of supplies for the journey, including breads, cheeses and skins full of pure spring water. In addition to their heavy skin cloaks, which warded off the worst effects of the rain and cold, he had managed to retrieve Akantha’s formal armor from its pedestal in its place of display without being noticed, which was a significant boon.

Normal armors were crafted from thick plates of various kinds of steel, but being the First Daughter and Land Bride, Akantha was awarded a suit of custom-fitted Stone Rhino armor similar to the one Persus himself wore. This kind of armor was far stronger than the standard metal plate construction which most warriors of Argos wore, as it was many times as strong and possessed a flexibility which allowed the armor to absorb much of the force of an incoming blow, often resulting in a death blow merely staggering its wearer. Such armor was rare, and reserved for only the highly honored of Argos’ society. Harvesting the skin of a Stone Rhino was no easy task, especially since the best skin comes from a fully mature bull during the peak of mating season, as his body prepared itself for battle with rival males by forming a nearly impervious layer of protection.

She stood up from her fall onto the slope and wiped the mud from her breastplate, and even through her leather gloves she could feel the texture of the small bumps which dotted the surface of the armor. They looked like tiny pebbles sticking out of the hide, but she had been told by the craftsman who created this particular suit that they were some sort of gland which became enlarged during rutting season, and it was the emanations of these glands which caused the skin to become so resilient and sought after.

Mindful to recover her pace before one of her companions offered assistance, she set her feet and continued up the slippery surface. They had been moving as quickly as possible for almost an entire day, and she was determined to make up as much ground as possible, especially if the weather continued to worsen.

As they crested the slope, she looked out and saw even more hills, some with small trees growing in their gullies but most of them a dangerous mixture of mud and sharp, jutting rocks.

Persus pointed toward the crest of the next hill, where there appeared to be a large rock formation in the shape of a triangle. “We should make our camp there, my Lady. There is no need to push ourselves further tonight, as we are well outside the path of Argos’ routine patrols,” Persus stated matter-of-factly.

Akantha considered it but shook her head. “No, Persus, we must continue on. If this weather persists, then the runners will take as many as three days to get to the Citadel, which makes the timing of our arrival even more critical than ever,” she said commandingly, but she was suddenly aware just how tired she had become as her legs ached and her arms quivered slightly in the cold.

Persus turned to her, his massive, cloaked frame outlined by a flash of lightning overhead. “My Lady, at our current pace I believe we have barely more than one more day to travel. If we stop for a few hours to eat and recover some of our vigor, we diminish the chance of injuring ourselves on this terrain,” he said, sweeping his arm across the vast rolling hills. “You are correct that our presence is more critical than ever, which is why our health and battle-readiness must be put first.”

Akantha bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder at Leonora, who was wrapped in the same type of cloak, but wore a much lighter leather armor underneath. Persus had argued with her at the livestock pen to wear a suit of metal armor, or at least a shirt of chain mail but she had refused, stating that her mobility would be too greatly hindered by such ‘clunky and unwieldy armor.’

Leonora showed no signs of tiring, but Akantha had come to know her as someone who never let her weaknesses show.

Akantha weighed their options, finally nodding her head with resignation at her bodyguard’s suggestion. “You are right, Persus. No one gains by foolishly pushing ourselves to the point of exhaustion. We will make camp there for two hours of rest, then continue on,” she said imperiously, and strode past him to lead the way to the rock formation, hoping to avoid any argument.

They arrived at the open, angular arch formation, which was just over two meters wide at the base and a meter and a half tall at the peak, making it ideal for a shelter. Persus removed his larger cloak and spiked the corners of it into the ground at the edges of the open side where the rain was blowing in, and he tied the collar straps to a jutting rock above the top of the arch, forming a dry cave large enough for the three of them to comfortably rest.

Leonora opened one of the sacks and produced three medium loaves of bread, a handful of dried beef and a quarter round of cheese, then flipped out a paring knife and began slicing cheese and meat in preparation for sandwiches for the three of them. Persus unslung his water skins and passed a full one to Akantha, then took two empties and went outside to fill them with rainwater.

There was no time to build a fire, and no need with such a short stay in mind. So after Persus finished filling their water skins, Leonora passed around the sandwiches and they ate in the dark silence.

When they were nearly finished with their meal, Persus turned toward Akantha and asked bluntly, “Why didn’t you inform the Hold Mistress of your plan?”

Akantha had been expecting this question from Leonora, but not Persus. Momentarily taken aback, she chewed on her sandwich before replying. “My last words to our Hold Mistress were not the most…politic. I wished nothing more than to speak with her to ease any unnecessary friction, but I could not lay this at her feet,” she began. “I know that her position carries with it great responsibility, and that dealing with men like Nykator on a daily basis is like threading a needle while blindfolded.”

Akantha paused to finish the last bites of her sandwich before continuing, and she did so without interruption.

“My mother must place the good of Argos above all else, as that is her duty as Hold Mistress,” she explained. “But as First Daughter and Land Bride, my duty is to House Zosime first, and to her loyal subjects second. In this task, I believe that I am acting in the best interests of my family and the citizens of Argos, but I cannot be certain that my mother would agree.” Akantha stopped again, trying to find the words to continue but was interrupted by Leonora.

“Not everyone would agree that the First Daughter owes her first duty to her family, Akantha,” Leonora warned. “To voice such a thought might bring with it certain..consequences.”

Akantha nodded slowly and saw Persus mimicking the gesture.

“Which is why,” Akantha continued, “I could not tell my mother. I cannot be certain she would agree with me even in principle, let alone that she would allow us to undertake this effort on House Zosime’s behalf without alerting everyone of our plans.”

“My Lady,” said Persus with a hint of exasperation in his voice, “Lord Hypatios Nykator is an unequaled warrior in all of the known world. What would lead you to believe that House Zosime, and by extension the Hold of Argos would be better served by his absence?”

“It’s not about supplanting Nykator, Persus,” Akantha said a bit more sharply than she would have liked. She paused and checked herself before continuing, “At least, not entirely. It’s about returning the ability of the Hold Mistress to make that choice herself, as is tradition. My Uncle has become far too influential in recent years, and his position in Argos’ is no longer the traditional role of Protector. He grips Argos in his fist as though he is some kind of King, and his military might has become a destabilizing force in the Great Hall.”

Persus shook his head adamantly. “Argos’ warriors are many, her bastions unparalleled and her banners fly high,” protested her bodyguard. “Even with the entire Tegean Host at his command, or twice that many men, he could never find victory in a war with the armies of Argos,” he insisted.

Akantha nodded and allowed the silence to linger for a moment, but Leonora interrupted. “And what of our neighbors, like the Lyconese?” asked the freckled handmaiden, having just finished her own meal. “Do you think they would sit idly by while we rebuilt our bastions and armies after such a conflict? This is ignoring the absolute certainty that Nykator would approach them or others before ever mounting such an offensive in an effort to secure his own lineage’s hereditary right to the lands of Argos, even if he and his line must owe some form of fealty to Lyconesia or whatever other state with which he allied himself,” Leonora explained.

Persus sat back in silence and Akantha glanced over at Leonora, who was shaping her provision sack as a pillow, taking up position next to the temporary wall Persus’ cloak provided.

Following her friend’s example, she pushed a full water skin up against the rock’s edge and settled in for a short rest next to Leonora, leaving Persus to his duty: standing watch in the mounting thunderstorm.

Chapter Six: Signs

They continued their journey as scheduled, with Persus waking them after two hours of rest during which time Leonora snored as usual, but Akantha didn’t have any trouble ignoring it that night.

The thunderstorm continued to worsen throughout the night, but seemed to peak when a lightning bolt struck a tree at least a mile away, causing it to erupt into a bright orange flame which burned for several minutes before being doused by the torrential downpour. Akantha shivered at the sight of nature’s raw fury, but they continued on without slowing.

Daylight came some hours later, and the trio was grateful for the modest increase in light that came through the thick clouds. Their progress was easier during the day, since they could see their footing much better and even though the rain continued to pour, they seemed to make good progress. Since Argos Citadel was located on high ground, the hills all led further lower in elevation, which made their journey shorter than the emissaries Nazoraios surmised had left the same night Akantha’s party had.

Stopping only twice for nourishment and hydration, they pressed onward and eventually found the rolling hills came to an end and a vast plain stretched out before them at the base of the mountain which was their target. With the rough terrain behind them, they broke into a jog, their energy seemingly renewed at the sight of their destination even though it was still many miles away.

They eventually came within sight of a farm cottage made the traditional way; with mud and stone walls covered by a thick grass-thatched roof, and there was smoke issuing from the chimney. Akantha directed them to make for the small farmstead in the hopes of finding better directions to where the green star had fallen than they had started with.

The woman who greeted Akantha at the door was of stout, curvy build, red haired and wearing a cap to keep it hair back while she worked. The smell of cooked meat and fresh bread wafted through the doorway as soon as it was opened. Her expression turned to frank surprise as she saw the armor they wore, as well as the simple emblem embedded in the breastplate of her armor which signified her as a member of House Zosime.

“My Lady Adonia!” the woman gasped, beckoning Akantha to enter her home. “By Men, how did you manage to arrive so quickly?! My eldest son only left yesterday, and in this weather I feared it might be a half week before he reached the Citadel.”

Akantha accepted her invitation and beckoned for Leonora to enter with her. Persus took up position guarding the entryway to the house, closing the door after them.

“Word of ill news travels fast enough through our land that it may as well have wings,” Akantha said evenly as she doffed her cloak and found a seat at the main table near the fire pit. The house was small but well-constructed, given the materials available here in the plains. It was a perfectly serviceable home, of which its inhabitants should be proud.

The woman busily began clearing the table, but Akantha motioned that it wasn’t necessary, and the woman uneasily stopped and sat on the bench opposite Akantha.

“What is your name?” Akantha inquired.

“Fedora, My Lady. Fedora Glaros,” replied the woman, still obviously uneasy at the presence of the First Daughter of her hold.

“Fedora,” Akantha began, “how many are in your family?”

The woman blushed and began fidgeting with her hands before replying sheepishly, “We have nine children, my Lady: six sons and three daughters.”

It was Akantha’s turn to blush, as she smiled and replied, “Nine children? You have been blessed with a most bountiful harvest, Fedora. To my eyes, you have not yet reached your thirtieth winter.”

Fedora laughed nervously and replied, “I am thirty two years old, my Lady, but I thank you for your gracious words.”

“Fedora,” Akantha started, trying to avoid being blunt or belligerent, “We need to know where the star came to rest. It is important that we not tarry in this.”

Fedora nodded anxiously. “I’m sure my Lady would like to direct her band of warriors to deal with whatever it is that has come to rest on the soil of Argos,” she said hopefully.

Akantha bit her lip and shook her head. “As I said, we traveled in advance of any main force, just myself, my guard Persus and my handmaiden Leonora.” She hated deceiving these people, even by simple omission, but word would spread quickly if she were to somehow suggest that the Citadel had not chosen to act directly on their behalf, and that would cause undue turmoil for her mother. “I thought it best to come directly and in person, hopefully gathering what useful intelligence might be had before reinforcements arrive from the Citadel,” Akantha said as evenly as she could. Thankfully, this last bit was at least partially true.

Fedora considered this for a moment, but she kept her chin up. “Of course, my Lady. Let me get my Defender from the fields. He will show you to what he has seen.” Fedora quickly got up from the table, wrapped herself in a thick shawl and made her way outside past Persus, heading in the direction of the fields.

Akantha sat at the table, again considering the Glaros’ home. It looked to have been built only a few years ago, everything was neat and orderly, and the furniture was of simple wood construction, well-made and functional. Akantha felt great pride in the lives these people lived and their devotion to the principles which had driven Argos’ society to the heights it had achieved.

She noticed Leonora taking in the cottage as well and when she caught her friend’s eye, Leonora nodded approvingly. Their bond had been forged long ago, and was so strong that times like these required no words to express their feelings; both Akantha and Leonora felt humbled and honored to be in positions of leadership for fine people such as these.

After a few minutes, Fedora opened the door and entered, with a slighter-than-usual man coming behind her, drenched from a morning spent in the heavy rain.

After removing her soaked shawl, Fedora introduced the man she had brought. “This is my Defender, Aetos. He has the finest bow this side of the mountains, and his tracking skills are exemplary,” she said with a measure of pride in her voice. “Just last fall he managed to fell two raiders who were intent on stealing our livestock, and they never saw him coming. He can tell you what he saw and where he saw it.”

Akantha nodded. “You have my thanks, Fedora. I won’t keep you from your duties any longer,” she said graciously.

Fedora nodded and made her way back to the table, where she resumed the preparation of her half-finished stew.

Aetos bowed his head respectfully. “Hold Mistress, I admit I am both pleased and surprised to find you here in our humble home, but I doubt you came all this way to listen to me make a fool of myself by trying not to make a fool of myself,” he said with a hollow grin. “If you would like, I can lead you to what I found, and we can speak along the way.”

“That would be preferable, Aetos Glaros,” Akantha agreed. “I doubt we have an abundance of time available to us.” She grabbed her cloak and Leonora followed her lead. Akantha noted that Aetos had come inside the house already bearing his sword strapped to his belt, and was also sporting a set of serviceable, if a bit aged banded armor made of strips of metal fastened to a suit of flexible leather underneath. He also grabbed a heavy bow and a quiver of well-made hunting arrows which were resting near his bed and secured them in place across his back. After fastening their heavy weather cloaks, they made their way out into the rain.

Akantha thought to make polite conversation as they made their way through the rain. “Fedora speaks proudly of your ability with a bow, Aetos, as well as with your tracking and stealth skills,” she remarked casually.

Aetos chuckled and shook his head. “She is too kind, Hold Mistress,” he replied humbly.

Akantha shook her head. “I am not yet a true Hold Mistress, Aetos,” she corrected him. “Politics at court can be confusing, even for those who spend every waking moment there. I would prefer if you call me Adonia, or Lady Zosime,” she said with a genuine smile.

He nodded. “As I said, Lady Zosime, Fedora is far too kind. It is true that I brought two local marauders down before they could spot me,” he continued. “But what is also true is that there were two other bandits who would have certainly been more than I could handle. Fedora dealt with them using her short blade.” He grinned momentarily. “As for stealth, she has taught me more of that skill than anyone else, which is why she was able to bring down the other two before they closed on my position.”

Akantha nodded with a grin of her own. It made her swell with pride to know that good people such as these worked so tirelessly to expand her people’s holdings. Once again, she acutely felt the weight of responsibility to them.

They moved quickly, as the grass here made the ground less treacherous than the mud of the hills, and they were able to move at a jog as they conversed.

“I am not entirely certain of what it was I saw, since it was an especially dark night,” began Aetos tensely, “but as the star moved overhead, it carried with it a sound like rushing water, or that of a roaring fire. It grew in brightness and slowed at the same time, until eventually I saw a piece of it fall off and plummet toward the ground a few kilometers from here while the rest appeared to go all the way to the base of the mountain, where the trees are plentiful.”

Akantha listened intently, as did her companions. “Did you find where the star fragment actually struck the ground?” she asked

Aetos shook his head slowly before shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps, my Lady. I wish I could be clearer than that, but if I show you then I believe you will understand my trepidation.”

Akantha decided to take the man at his word and they jogged in quiet for some time before coming to an odd site. The man slowed his pace, and Akantha’s group followed suit.

“This is what I saw, my Lady,” said Aetos, as though it should explain everything.

Akantha narrowed her eyes and appraised the area. To her, it was little more than a large square patch of ground, perhaps two hundred meters on a side which had been recently tilled until the dirt was completely broken and ready for planting. “I do not understand, Aetos,” she began suspiciously, “it appears to be a recently plowed field, ready for seed.”

Aetos nodded his head sadly. “Aye, it does. But there are two problems with that. The first being that we are more than halfway through the growing season, so to plow a field at this time would be utter foolishness,” he said quietly.

Akantha took his meaning and silently cursed herself for not making this obvious connection. “And the other problem would be?” she inquired.

Aetos sighed. “The other problem would be that my grandfather last tilled this ground fifty years ago, when he planted it in a strain of gold plum my forefathers had cultured and brought here when we set down roots during his childhood.”

“Your kin had earned Harvest Rights to the thicket,” she concluded with a knowing nod. The Code of Men permitted only women to own lands, but if a man was responsible for the care of a long-term crop like fruit trees, after twenty consecutive years of labor the man became entitled to a significant share of the revenues generated by it under Harvest Rights. At that time, he could do as he saw fit with that share, which would gradually decrease until the end of his life, at which time sole possession passed back to the woman’s line.

Aetos nodded absently. “Those plums have been our lifeblood for a generation, but now…”

Akantha’s eyes widened as she came to realize what he was saying. “But now,” she continued for him, “there are no plum trees.” She stopped and breathed quietly, taking in the scene. “I cannot even see a trace that there had ever been plum trees, or any other kind of trees here.” She turned to Aetos and saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Aye, my Lady,” he said with the slightest quiver in his voice, “not a single trace. Not even a scrap of root remains in the whole field, but you should probably take a closer look for yourself,” Aetos said as he moved forward, wiping the tears from his face as he made his way into the edge of the dirt patch.

Akantha looked on in wonderment as she performed calculations to estimate how many trees there must have been here. Fifty years of growth in this region made a plum tree something like three meters tall and three meters across, so if the entire patch had been covered in them, it would have been over four thousand trees. There was no way even a small army of men could chop them down, package them and transport them out of here in such a short time, let alone remove all traces of stump and root!

She remembered the old passage chronicling the scene believed to have been made by Sky Demons: ‘It was as if the sky had opened its maw and swallowed everything which interested it, leaving behind nothing but broken dirt.’ Akantha looked over at her companions and saw the same realization in their eyes, and it made her turn cold inside.

Leonora knelt down and seemed to take an interest in something she found.

“What is it, Leonora,” Akantha asked.

Leonora shook her head. “Perhaps nothing, my Lady,” began the freckled handmaiden. “But it almost seems as though a fire of some kind were here.”

Aetos shook his head. “I saw no smoke, Hold Mistress,” he said confidently. “Nor did I smell anything upon entering the remains of the grove for the first time.”

Akantha knelt down next to her friend and ran her fingers through the mud. She found herself agreeing with both Leonora and Aetos: there was most certainly no natural fire here, but the traces of what appeared to be a very fine ash were unmistakable, mixed in across the top layer of mud.

She shook her head before rising from her knees. “Another mystery, it would seem,” she said grimly.

After they had walked in the barren thicket for a few minutes and confirmed Aetos’ assertion that there was not even a trace of root, branch or leaf to be found, he drew their attention to the western edge of the patch.

“The other thing you should see is over here,” Aetos said evenly, having regained control of his emotions. Akantha couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man whose entire livelihood had been ripped from him in the span of a night by forces he neither understood or could figure out how to fight. Yet she was also proud of him for doing his part to help protect others from the same fate.

They walked to the western edge as he had indicated and found what he was talking about, and Akantha found herself at a loss to explain what she saw.

There was a fresh trail approximately four meters wide with absolutely no grass or grass roots to be found in the soil. The dirt was shaped in a pattern of ridges as though a gigantic, irregular-surfaced wheel had rolled along the ground, picking up every trace of grass along the way.

“Well,” Persus said dryly, “it looks like we didn’t get dressed up for nothing.”

Chapter Seven: The Hunter

They moved quickly but cautiously along the odd trail, finding nothing of further interest for several hours. Aetos had taken his bow off his back and had an arrow in hand as they made their way along the makeshift path. Persus ran out front, Akantha behind him and next to Aetos, with Leonora bringing up the rear again.

They proceeded for several kilometers until Persus motioned for them to stop and assume a low posture. Akantha knelt down and crept up to Persus’ position at the top of a gentle slope leading down to a stream a few hundred meters away. He directed her to look near a bend in the stream and when she did, she felt her heart quicken.

Near the edge of the running water, she saw two figures which were clearly not human. The first was as tall as a man, and resembled one inasmuch as it had two arms and two legs, but the similarities ended there. It was wearing a complex suit of dark brown armor that almost looked as though it were a part of its body, the way it moved in perfectly jointed segments like an insect’s carapace. Its hands were not hands at all, rather its forearms ended in long, deadly looking pincers like a crab has, and its head resembled nothing so much as a highly-stylized wedge-shaped helmet with multifaceted eyes on either side.

The second figure was smaller and didn’t even vaguely resemble a human; this one was clearly an insect of some kind. It was about a meter tall, had a meter and a half long segmented body like a wasp’s, and six multi-jointed legs supporting its weight. This one also had two more appendages that closely resembled human hands, however, bringing its total limbs to eight.

The larger, humanoid one with the claws was standing in about a half meter of water, with its pincers poised just over the surface. As Akantha watched, one pincer snapped out in a motion almost too quick to see, and came back up with a large fish gripped in its claw. Almost immediately, the other snapped down into the water and also came up with a flopping fish.

The smaller, delicate one was a few meters from the water examining a fruiting razorberry bush which Akantha had learned as a small child was incredibly poisonous. She watched with a mixture of curiosity and horror as it cocked its head side to side, examining the fruit. It then began plucking the fruit with movements that were far too quick and accurate to have been made by anything she had ever seen.

Her curiosity gave way to grim satisfaction as she watched it devour the berries as quickly as it could pick them. Anything that ate those berries raw would die within minutes from spontaneous bleeding and bone-cracking convulsions, and her satisfaction seemed vindicated when the monstrous being began spewing bits of green fluid in bursts, which must have been the creature’s approximation of emesis.

Surprisingly, after it had ejected a liter or so of the foul-looking fluid, it shuddered for a few moments and moved away from the bush, focusing instead on some of the smaller shrubs which thrive on the riverbanks near the mountain. Its movements appeared sluggish and considerably less coordinated, but amazingly it had survived consumption of the most deadly natural food Akantha knew.

Akantha crawled back a few meters and beckoned Persus to follow. When they were back with the others, she described what she had seen, careful not to let her voice rise above a whisper. They were further from those monstrosities than any human could hear, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

“We could flank them,” Persus suggested, “You, Aetos and Leonora move behind them, while I take them head-on as they are flushed toward my concealed position.”

Aetos and Leonora nodded their agreement, but Akantha was uncertain. “I don’t know if our weapons will even harm them, Persus,” she said doubtfully.

Persus grinned savagely, obviously overcome with the potential of impending battle. “My Lady, we came to deal with the Sky Demon threat. I know not if these are them, but I do know that whatever they are, they have no place in Argos! If we fail to do battle with them when numbers, terrain and surprise are on our side, then we are nothing but the wild animals of which you spoke earlier.”

Akantha bit her tongue as her bodyguard’s rebuke stung more deeply than she had expected possible. After a moment’s consideration, she nodded firmly. “You are right, Persus, in both your assessment of our tactical advantages and the importance of dealing with these foul creatures, whatever they are.”

She turned to Leonora and Aetos. “Lea, Aetos, we are to quietly make our way around to the opposite bank of the stream. When we arrive there, Aetos is to fire an arrow at the small one with many legs,” she looked at Aetos and continued, “Even with the finest arrows in the Citadel, I doubt you could wound the larger armored one, but a well-placed shot might be able to harm the smaller one. Lea and I will then charge down the bank at them with myself in the lead, and you will fire as many arrows as you can before we close, at which point you follow us in.”

Everyone nodded their understanding of her plan and Akantha added, “There is no need for unnecessary sacrifice. We are here to gather information first, and deal a blow to them second.” She leveled her gaze at Persus, then Lea. “If any two of us go down, the survivors are to flee in opposite directions in the hopes they can evade these things and return to the Citadel with a report of we have seen here.”

Leonora snickered, and when Akantha snapped her attention to her, she smiled innocently. “Oh, it’s nothing, my Lady,” she said as she pulled a pair of razor sharp, black obsidian daggers from her belt and twirled them in her hands a few times. “Ask me again after the battle,” she said with a wink.

Akantha rolled her eyes and grinned. “Alright, if we’re through playing around, let’s get to it. As soon as we’re in position, we make our move. Make sure you’re in position before we are, Persus,” she ordered.

Persus nodded. “Of course, my Lady,” he replied and made for the opposite direction Akantha’s team set out in.

Akantha unslung the pike axe she had carried with her and tested its weight in her hands. She had practiced for years with such a weapon, as it was forbidden for a Land Bride to ever carry a sword that she had not accepted from her chosen Protector. To accept a sword from any man under any circumstances would automatically and irrevocably signal that she had become his Sword Bearer, and the bond between Protector and Sword Bearer is incredibly complicated to dissolve, even if both parties are agreeable.

The haft was a meter long, and one face of the weapon was a third of a meter long, slightly curved spike. On the opposite face of the weapon was a long, executioner’s style axe head. It was her weapon of choice because it was not a subtle instrument. There was no hiding in the shadows with a weapon like this, and that was how she wanted to meet these foes: head on.

She led Leonora and Aetos around to where they would start, and she crept forward on her belly until she could see the two creatures again. They had moved further upstream, which only worked to Akantha’s advantage, having brought them closer to her position, bringing the total distance to less than fifty meters. Persus would have to adjust and come further toward the action, but there would be plenty of time for him to close distance once she initiated her charge.

When Aetos was ready with his bow, Akantha counted back silently from three and gave a chopping motion. Aetos stood tall, took aim and fired an arrow with a hunter’s practiced manner. The shaft flew true, but fell short by nearly a meter and clattered on the rocks. Akantha stood and Leonora followed.

The heads of the two monsters snapped in her direction, and they began making chittering noises at each other. The larger, armored one bounded toward Akantha’s position with inhumanly large strides, easily covering ten feet per loping step.

Cursing the creature’s incredible pace, she screamed a battle cry and raised her axe above her shoulder as she charged down the hill to meet the beast. Lea matched her cry with one of her own and was not far behind, while Aetos nocked another arrow and let loose when he had again sighted his target.

The arrow flew overhead as Akantha met her quarry on the near side of the bank, bringing her axe down in a savage sweeping motion which the creature avoided, and it lashed out at her with its pincers, obviously aiming for her arms.

She let the weight of the weapon she wielded bring her arms down, and she rolled along the ground to avoid a follow-up attack. The monster tracked her movement, but was distracted when Leonora came at it from a flanking angle, and she slashed with her left-hand dagger at the creature’s protruding ‘abdomen,’ if it could be called such, that stuck out behind its legs in much the way a locust’s does.

Gathering herself, Akantha moved to keep an opposite position from the one her handmaiden had adopted, hoping to keep their quarry trapped between them where they could easily pick it apart.

Her hopes were dashed as it snapped its head side to side, then without warning leapt at least three meters in the air and hurtled over Leonora, landing with perfect balance on the other side of the red-headed woman.

Akantha was already in motion when the beast had unexpectedly leapt over her friend, as she was determined to not let the foul thing gain the upper hand. Leonora fell back, avoiding a rapid series of snapping pincers with a display of balance and grace that only a dancer could truly appreciate, and before long the two women found themselves shoulder to shoulder. From the corner of her eye, Akantha could see a look of bloodlust on her friend’s face, and it surprised her somewhat. She also heard a strange, high-pitched squealing sound coming from where the other monster was located.

But there were more important things to focus on as they quickly circled their opponent in opposite directions, careful to avoid creating too much space. When their movements were in harmony, Akantha brought the axe down in an overhand swing, and Lea slashed at the creature’s nearest leg in a spinning motion, bringing each dagger to bear on her target twice.

The thing actually caught Akantha’s axe by the haft with its pincer, but the metal extending down the length of the wooden shaft prevented it from being snapped outright, and that was all the opening Leonora needed to open a series of deep gashes on the monster’s leg, causing the limb to buckle and its grip on Akantha’s axe to be broken as it momentarily turned its attention to Leonora.

Persus came out of nowhere, charging headlong into the fray as he slammed his body into the monster, knocking it off-balance before chopping clean through one of its arms with his sword in a short, practiced downward stroke.

Akantha couldn’t tell what expression was on the creature’s face at that moment, but she liked to think it was shock. It lunged toward Persus and grabbed him by the neck with its pincer in a blindingly fast motion. Persus dropped his sword and struggled with all his might to pry open the claw, but it was a struggle he was certain to lose as his armor began to make popping noises under the strain.

Overcome with battle fury, Akantha screamed and charged with her weapon raised and swung it in a wide, unseemly arc that achieved her desired effect: the head and shoulders of the creature came flying off, and the arm which had gripped Persus’ neck was severed just below the shoulder as her axe cut cleanly through the beast’s armor. Persus’ and Akantha’s own armor was sprayed with a foul-smelling, yellowish green liquid which sizzled and smoked on contact, but fortunately none of it touched their skin.

Relieved, Persus tore the dismembered claw arm from his neck and hurled it into the riverbank. Aetos was just arriving on the scene, his sword drawn and his bow nowhere to be seen.

They stood there, silently coming to grips with the reality of the battle in which they had just partaken. Their reverie was broken when Leonora began to giggle uncontrollably as she wiped her daggers clean on the grass.

Akantha looked at her worriedly, fearing she had gone mad. “What is wrong with you, Lea?” she asked cautiously.

The freckled handmaiden met her eyes and suppressed further outbursts. “You see, Akantha?” said Leonora, schooling her features into an innocent mask. “I told you that you were the hunter!”

There was a pause, and then all four of them erupted into a roar of laughter that was usually reserved for the late hours of the mead hall.

Chapter Eight: Recon

The trail the creatures had used to arrive at the stream was clear to see, and after only a few minutes of examination Aetos confirmed his initial impression.

“There is no doubt, Lady Zosime,” he said firmly. “The demons were alone, and judging from the direction of their tracks they came from the Stathis tuber farm to the south.” Aetos shook his head angrily.

Akantha nodded firmly. “Then the course is clear,” she said firmly. Her gaze fell on the corpses of the two monsters they had slain half an hour before. Persus had lost a knife to their acidic blood, or whatever it was that filled the innards of the two foul beasts. Eventually, Leonora had offered one of her obsidian stone blades to assist in the examination of the bodies, since they didn’t appear to be affected by the vile substance.

The larger one was essentially what it appeared to be: some sort of otherworldly monstrosity whose outer skin was as hard and chitinous as a wood beetle’s armor. The innards did not retain their shape or composition long enough for a more detailed analysis than to conclude they were decidedly unlike any animal the four had ever seen.

The smaller one had actually been speared in the small, delicate section between its abdomen and what must pass for its chest by one of Aetos’ arrows. Persus commented that he had made short work of it afterwards. The creature had been holding something which Akantha had originally believed to be a part of its hand-like appendage, but on closer examination it became clear that it was a tool, or a weapon of some kind. She had no interest in exposing herself or her party to its foul mechanisms or magics, so she stomped it and found the crunching noise it made quite satisfying.

During the corpses’ less-than-fruitful dissections, Persus had removed his armor’s breastplate with Aetos’ assistance to assess the damage caused by the demon’s incredibly powerful pincer, and apparently satisfied that the damage would not hinder his movement, he signaled for Aetos to help him don the piece again.

“We still know nothing of their number, Akantha,” said Leonora simply. “If the goal of this mission is to be intelligence gathering, then speed is of the essence.”

“Indeed,” Akantha agreed. “We are to make haste along their trail so we might ascertain their strength and condition.”

Persus shook his head shortly. “My Lady, we must not become overconfident due to this first encounter,” he said with a hint of reprimand in his voice that irritated Akantha. “We had terrain, surprise and numbers on our quarry,” he continued, “but next time we are certain to be denied at least one of those advantages.”

Akantha ground her teeth in the manner which had aggravated her mother ever since she was a little girl. “Understood, Persus,” she finally said through gritted teeth. “We will make haste, but also observe caution so as to avoid relinquishing any such advantages unnecessarily.”

Leonora nodded abruptly, inserting herself into the scene. “Shall we proceed as before,” asked the handmaiden pointedly, quite obviously trying to redirect the group’s attention.

Akantha snapped her head around to find Leonora’s gaze, and was almost instantly reminded just why these two people had become so invaluable to her during her young life. She took a deep breath and looked back at Persus, who had nearly completed reassembling his armor. “Persus?” she asked as warmly as she could manage.

Persus took a moment to consider before shaking his head. “I believe we three would be best suited keeping in tight formation, with Aetos taking point at least fifty paces ahead,” he said finally. “His familiarity with the terrain and tracking skill make him an obvious choice.”

“I agree, My Lady,” Aetos began, “I can move more quietly than you three, and can signal you if there is anything amiss with the whistle of a river finch.”

“Then we proceed,” Akantha ordered, eager to do what she had set out to do when they had left the Citadel.

The vegetation on the demon’s side of the river was much denser, and the terrain was considerably flatter as well. Aetos chose a path parallel to the one the monsters had apparently taken, about twenty paces off. The beasts had made no attempt at stealth as their tracks were plain enough for Akantha to see even at that distance, and she was no accomplished huntress. She had always enjoyed the outdoors, as well as the challenge of a hunt, but the art of determining which broken twigs were meaningful and which were not had always frustrated her.

The pace they were able to maintain was good, and after an hour they had nearly cleared the miniature forest composed of shrubs and bushes when they heard Aetos whistle from ahead. Akantha felt her heartbeat hasten and she continued forward as quietly as she was able.

They saw Aetos quickly enough, and he gestured to them indicating how to approach his position. A few moments later, they found themselves standing behind a Stoutnut tree looking down a rolling hill, and the sight which greeted them took Akantha’s breath away.

Gathered around a farmer’s cottage much like the one Aetos and Fedora live in, she saw at least two dozen total demons which resembled the ones they had killed on the riverbank, approximately equal in proportion to each other. The door to the house had been smashed, and she could see trails of blood on the ground just outside the doorway. The smaller, delicate looking demons were holding more of the strange weapons that Akantha had noted on the one her party had already killed, and the purpose of these noisome alien devices became clear quickly enough.

With inhuman efficiency and speed, the smaller demons were using their strange little weapons to cut down every kind of vegetation around the farmhouse in an ever-widening circle while the larger, pincer-bearing monsters were carrying the chopped pieces of grain stalk and shrub back to the area in front of the farmhouse as an apparent set of offerings to what could only be described as a living nightmare, and easily the largest living creature Akantha had ever laid eyes on.

It was fully fifteen paces long, four paces wide at its incredible girth and nearly as ‘tall.’ It had hundreds, or perhaps thousands of tiny legs covering the bottom quarter of its rounded body, which resembled nothing so much as a gigantic, nearly translucent grub or worm. The eyeless head of the foul behemoth was rimmed with a series of appendages similar to a crab’s or spider’s legs, but there were dozens of them and they seemingly never ceased to take the offerings of the armored, pincer-handed demons and rhythmically pass them into the circular orifice which was clearly the monster’s mouth. This portion of the foul creature’s body appeared to be a meter wide sphincter, the inside of which was lined with a multitude of hooked and barbed teeth that churned in a hypnotic fashion, grinding the vegetable matter into tiny bits before being passed into its stomach, which appeared to comprise the vast majority of its impossible, vile bulk.

“World of Men,” Akantha whispered under her breath.

Her companions were silent as they took in the scene, each processing the horrific imagery in their own way. After what seemed like an eternity, but was most certainly not more than a few seconds the silence was broken by Persus.

“We’re going to need a bigger warband,” he remarked tightly.

Akantha was double-checking the number of the foul creatures and her count came back at a total of twenty eight: twelve of the larger pincer-bearing type and sixteen of the smaller ones with the whining weapons.

“I count twenty eight,” Akantha whispered and she saw both Aetos and Leonora nod their heads in confirmation. She noticed a small stream of tears running down Aetos’ cheek, which he made no attempt to wipe away. She could only guess who the inhabitants of this farm hold had been, but it was a good guess that he and Fedora Glaros had known them, being what passes for neighbors this far out in the countryside. After a moment’s consideration, Akantha hissed to get her party’s attention. “We pull back, five hundred paces,” she directed quietly. “Move.”

Chapter Nine: Regroup

After they had fallen back to a distance well over five hundred paces, Akantha signaled for them to stop.

“At least now we know what happened to your plum thicket,” remarked Persus sympathetically, to which Aetos nodded absently.

“Twenty eight of them, plus the inevitable scouting parties like we encountered at the river,” Leonora mused aloud, “I put their total number at less than forty.”

Akantha nodded, “That was my number as well. Persus?” she prompted.

Persus nodded in assent. “They were feeding the large one everything which lived,” he said slowly, “it is as though it is one of their gods demanding tribute.”

Akantha considered this, then shook her head. “We have no way of knowing what the large demon’s purpose is, but we can be certain that it is important to the others.” She paused for a moment before stating the obvious conclusion, “It is therefore our primary target.”

“They are too many for us to contend with, Hold Mistress,” Persus began, “If we had a true warband of a hundred men outfitted for battle as we are, we could be confident of victory. But even if we managed to secure the services of that many brave farmer folk such as Aetos,” he said with a respectful nod of his head to the farmer, “we would still be lacking proper equipment for a battle with foes such as these. You saw what they were able to do to our best armor,” Persus finished with a gesture to his cracked breastplate.

Akantha knew there was wisdom in what Persus said, but she felt her face beginning to flush at the notion that they could do nothing to stop these vile invaders from working whatever unspeakable plan they had in mind. Before she could reply to Persus, Aetos interrupted.

“The Stathis farmers were kin of mine,” the Aetos said slowly. “I knew them all, and they cherished this land enough to die for it, which they clearly have. I have no choice but to take up arms in vengeance, even if I am to share my kinsmen’s fate.”

Akantha was not surprised to learn of the familial bond Aetos shared with the people of the ravaged farm hold, but she was suddenly overcome with just how difficult this must be for him.

“I have an idea, and it just might work,” said Leonora, who was looking off into the distance absently.

All three heads turned to her and she continued without pause. “The berries we saw the demon eat on the riverbank, they are razorberries, yes?” she asked Aetos.

He nodded slowly, and Leonora continued, “It is my understanding that those berries are not poisonous in the true sense of the word, but instead are host to a kind of deadly fungus which grows along the skins and stems of the fruit, am I correct?” she asked him. He nodded once more.

Persus was looking as confused as Akantha felt, but her freckled handmaiden continued, her words coming more rapidly as she revealed her plan.

“Isn’t that fungus the same type which is used to create Blackroot Spice? And isn’t this region infamous for Blackroot Spice production?” she asked pointedly.

Aetos looked surprised at this. “I am quite sure I don’t know what the lady means,” he began slowly, but it was obvious to Akantha that he knew exactly what Leonora meant. Blackroot Spice was a terribly addictive substance, the recipe for which was a secret brought from a distant hold. The users believed it acted as a kind of stimulant, quickening both the mind and body, but the price was high as is the case for most addictive drugs. Needless to say, the punishment for producing or distributing the substance was severe.

Akantha was unaware that razorberries and Blackroot Spice were connected in any way, but Leonora always had an interest in the not-so-legal aspects of society, which was a constant source of contention between the two of them.

“Aetos,” Akantha began shortly, “if you know of anything which can aid us, duty demands you to provide it.”

Aetos slumped his shoulders slightly and nodded with resignation. “Aye, there are Spice mixers here, probably due to the abundance of razorberries on the western shore of the river.” He sighed before continuing, “I truly do not know of the process by which it is created, but I can find someone who does.”

“Good,” Leonora nodded eagerly, “for this to work, we will need at least twenty bushels of the berries, or preferably the commensurate amount of pure fungus. We don’t need fully mixed Spice, just the fungus. Can you find someone who would have that much?”

Aetos thought for a moment and then nodded. “I believe I can find that much, but it will take some time to contact those who collect it,” he warned.

“How much time,” Akantha asked impatiently. She wasn’t angry that the man associated with Spice mixers, she just wanted to get the plan in motion as quickly as possible, before the demons moved on to the next farm hold.

“I make nightfall in four hours,” Aetos said. “I can probably bring them back to my farm by dawn, but I must leave immediately.” He hesitated before adding, “I cannot guarantee that these men will help if they fear punishment for their…questionable enterprises.”

Akantha nodded. “Then tell them I will not use this situation as an opportunity to bring them to the stocks,” she said smoothly, “and also make inform them that if they do not assist us adequately in this matter, the entire Citadel will be made aware of their…questionable enterprises, as you put it, and their worst fears will pale in comparison to the truth of Argos’ fury at her wayward citizens.” Satisfied that her meaning had been taken, she grabbed a nearby stick and she thrust it toward him, “Before you go, draw a map of the area in the dirt here before which shows all other farm holds in the region. We will need to rally a militia while you are retrieving the fungus, and we dare not linger near these demons any longer.”

Aetos departed after a few minutes of scrawling in the dirt and naming each farm hold, as well as providing an estimate of men, women and children at each location. The total number of people in the nearby farms was fewer than one hundred only half that many would be capable militia members, which was most certainly not going to claim victory in an open battle.

But a trusted friend had recently told Akantha that life isn’t about doing what is best; it’s about doing the best you can with what you have. She decided it was time to put that particular theory to the test.

Chapter Ten: Unlikely Allies and Unbreakable Bread

Thankfully, the rains had not returned by the time Akantha had already visited the six farm holds on her list. She had split from Persus and Leonora with the plan to rendezvous at the Glaros farm hold before dawn, and for her part of the recruitment drive, she had secured twelve grown men, nine boys who were old enough to handle the small hunting bows which were popular in this region, and five women who volunteered for the duty.

Akantha was both deeply honored by her people’s commitment to the safety of the Hold, and also bitterly disappointed that she had failed to gather more members for the impromptu fighting force. The children these people had left behind had been sent to stay with their elders for the time being, and Akantha’s heart had swelled with pride at how few tears and outbursts the families had shown. These people knew their duty, and they would spend their lives fulfilling it. It was up to her to ensure that their contributions were meaningful.

She had seriously considered making a run for another set of farm holds she had learned of from the last family on her schedule, but she had decided that speed, coordination and planning would ultimately decide the outcome of this battle, so she had made as quickly as possible for the Glaros farmhouse. Along the way she had taken the opportunity to speak with the people about life here on the western edge of the realm. She hadn’t learned anything significant, but hearing these people recount their experiences of hard labors and even harder winters, yet still going out of their way to thank her for coming to help with this crisis touched her. She was humbled by their respect and appreciation, and she was also hardened against the thought of allowing the Sky Demons to claim another life, another piece of livestock, or even so much as one more handful of grain from these diligent people.

It was still at least two hours before dawn when she came to the ruined field which had previously been the Glaros plum thicket, and Akantha hoped Leonora and Persus had been as successful in their recruitment efforts as she had been. She came to the farmhouse with her party of recruits in tow, and was pleased to see that Persus had already completed his charge and was standing watch outside the door, a small lantern hanging above his head from the end of the roof truss. He nodded to her and raised his eyebrows as he silently counted her tally.

“Well done, my Lady,” Persus said with a wry grin, which immediately brought attention to his swollen, bruised nose, “I fear you have exactly doubled my own tally.”

Akantha frowned. “Your list included twenty able bodies, Persus,” she said shortly, “as you pointed out yesterday: we will need many strong warriors to even hope for victory against this foe. I surely hope you managed better than thirteen members for our band,” she finished hotly.

Persus lowered his eyes to the ground. “I fear the number is correct; I brought only thirteen,” he said sheepishly. “I was never any good convincing people with words, my Lady,” he continued, “I’ve always been better with my fists.”

Akantha sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Well, where are they?” she asked wearily. “We have what we have, and we might as well get all of these people into one of the outbuildings here so we can take inventory of our weapons and armor.”

Persus nodded, “Aye, we should take stock,” he said slowly, “although, I think it would be best if we put your people somewhere away from mine,” he said slowly.

Akantha shot him a look. “What exactly do you mean by that, Persus?” she inquired warily.

He cracked a grin again, and this time Akantha could see he was missing at least one prominent tooth which had been there the last time she’d seen him. “Best if I show you, my Lady,” he said with a wink.

She nodded and followed as he led her to one of two outbuildings near the house. This one, she suspected, was for keeping livestock warm and dry but the sounds of animals were not what came from inside. Instead, she heard loud, roaring laughter and could smell the mixture of smoke and cooked meat wafting outside. She briefly wondered which animal had surrendered its life to pay for a feast at this time of night.

Persus opened the door to the small barn, and Akantha saw an overly large fire burning in the middle of the dirt floor, over which was a spit which bore little more than a handful of blackened bones at this point. She didn’t care to examine the remains too closely, so it would have to remain a mystery as to which animal had provided the meal. But the men sitting around the fire were familiar enough to her, even if she had never met any of them.

They wore long, furry cloaks in the alternating diamond pattern of brown and grey, which was the naturally occurring pattern found in one of the largest ice cats known in the entire world. A male specimen could reach ten feet long and could look a man in the eye while sitting on its haunches, with teeth as long as swords and claws as sharp as Leonora’s stone blades.

The men who hunted such cats in their native lands were insane, bloodthirsty and ill-tempered, and there was only one way to earn the honor of wearing a cloak made of their fur: to kill the one you intended to skin under the winter moonlight with no weapons, armor or supplies of any kind. A rite like that was reserved for the foolish, the arrogant, the desperate, and the incredibly brave. Akantha had always believed that those four qualities represented facets of the same basic thing, but looking at the men inside the barn just now, she was no longer so sure.

It was a rite of passage in the northlands, Akantha had been taught, and not one which most men dared attempt. Every polis has its ways of testing the young, allowing them to prove in relatively objective terms their fitness to join the highest ranks of society. Although, she did not know how they would qualify as a distinct polis without having any actual city-states, arranged only as loose bands of rovers with a few agreed upon meeting places. What she was sure of, however, was that the northlanders were formidable warriors.

Every single man wore a full-length cloak of cat skin, and they were fitted with weapons and armor which were economical and practical, if a bit primitive by comparison to the gear Akantha’s party bore. There were forged metal blades, some of them crude iron, some bronze. There were other weapons which were sharpened stone, similar in style and quality to Leonora’s, which was surprising to Akantha. Their armors were designed much more for mobility and stealth than for an out-and-out slugfest, consisting of thick, heavily worked leather strips criss-crossing in various patterns, with studs or bands of metal to cover the difficult-to-defend spaces like under the arms.

The roaring laughter slowed and eventually ceased as Akantha made her way into the room and found the eyes of every man gathered around the fire. They were not young men, but neither were they overly old: there probably wasn’t a man present who was older than forty or younger than thirty.

“My Lady,” came the voice of a huge man who bore a great scar across his face, or rather, a trio of scars across his face which had very obviously claimed his right eye. He stood to his massive height and moved toward her, maintaining a respectful distance before stopping to offer a half-bow, “We are honored with your presence,” he said in a deep, thick accent which Akantha had learned as a little girl belonged to the Northerners.

“I am not your Lady,” Akantha said politely, returning the bow with a tilt of her head, “but you honor me with your presence.”

There was a round of snickering from behind the man, which was silenced instantly when he cocked his head every-so-slightly in the direction of the sounds. He held the pose for a moment before beaming a smile which, prior to his mutilation, must have been quite charming. “My men and I have traveled far and wide in our search,” he said in his gravelly, thickly accented voice, “and we truly hope that we have found that which we seek here in your lands.”

Akantha eyed him suspiciously. “I am afraid I do not know of what you seek,” she said politely, “but I trust Persus has informed you of our quarry.”

The scarred man nodded slowly, his smile shifting to a mischievous grin. “Oh, aye, that he has,” he said gruffly, “which is the only reason we are having such a pleasant conversation just now,” he winked.

Akantha’s eyes narrowed but before she could say anything, her bodyguard interrupted.

“Hold Mistress,” Persus said quickly, “this is Kratos One Eye. He and his men are Black Arrows from the Northern Reaches, over three hundred leagues away.”

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, and she couldn’t resist the urge to place her hand on the hilt of her axe. “Persus, I ordered you to gather warriors to protect our Hold,” she growled, “not Ice Raiders and night bandits who feed on the labors of our good people.”

There was silence throughout the barn, but every man assembled drew himself to his feet. It only dawned on her a few seconds later that none of them had made so much as a single sound in the process; not a clattering of weaponry against armor, or the clinking of chains, or even the creaking of hardened leather. Not a single sound came from any of the twelve seated men as they drew themselves up behind their leader, looking every bit the pack of hungry predators.

Kratos One Eye held up an open hand, and the posture of his pack immediately changed. He kept his mischievous grin and held Akantha’s gaze in his single, icy blue eye. “What the lady says is true,” he said to his men, “we are Ice Raiders and night bandits, and we shouldn’t act insulted when someone says it to our faces.”

The Black Arrows hesitated as a group, but then one of them chuckled and said something in their native tongue, which started the rest of them snickering, and Akantha decided that was a good thing. She reluctantly released the grip on her axe, but never took her eyes off Kratos.

She started when Persus placed his hand on her shoulder. “My Lady, on my honor, we have nothing to fear from these men,” Persus assured her. Kratos chuckled and nodded at this.

Akantha bit her lip, and after a few seconds asked, “I’m sorry I have to ask, but what guarantee do I have of that?”

“If you will allow me to expl-“ Persus began, but was cut off by Kratos.

“The fourteen of us set out from our homes over three moons ago, and if we do not return by the close of the fourth, we are outcasts,” said the one-eyed mountain of a man. “You may know us as ‘Ice Raiders’ and ‘night bandits,’ my beautiful young woman,” he continued coldly, “but we are merely as you are: trying to do the best we can for those who depend upon us. It has always been a trial of the North that when a man wishes to rise in station, he must blood himself by a foe who is better than he is.”

Her teeth were gritted as she forced herself not to lash out at Kratos’ disrespectful comment regarding her beauty. “And who determines when a foe is better than the man on trial,” Akantha asked icily, more than a little curious in spite of herself.

Kratos laughed, which was a harsh, grating sound. “My Lady, if a man does not know his own betters, then he is but a foolish boy,” he said knowingly. “Understanding with absolute certainty that your opponent is better than you are, and that you still must somehow defeat him, is the final lesson required for our men to take their rightful place in the world.”

She felt her blood beginning to boil. Akantha was most certainly not their Lady, nor was she the Lady of any road bandits. “I have two questions then,” she began with a sickly sweet smile, “the first is: have none of you, in three full moons found and defeated your betters?”

Kratos shook his head. “Before this night, all but two of us had completed our charge in the witness of his clansmen, and would most assuredly be granted re-entry into the Clan Hall. But in our clan, brothers do not forsake each other. So we will remain until the task is complete, even if it means never going home.”

Akantha nodded slowly. She did not trust these men any more at this particular moment than before, but at least she was beginning to understand them a little better. “So two of you still need to prove yourselves,” she began, “and you believe that tomorrow’s battle will provide you with the opportunity to do so. I suppose I can understand that. My other question is: you said ‘fourteen’ of you left together, while I count only thirteen. What happened to the other one?”

The dozen men seated behind Kratos One Eye snickered again, and Persus rubbed his jaw slowly. She refused to show her confusion, so she waited impatiently for someone to answer.

“Lady Zosime,” Kratos said calmly, “your man came upon us as we were about to raid a nearby farm hold for badly needed supplies,” he gestured toward the remains of the blackened carcass by the fire. “We had not eaten in a week, you see.”

She did not see, but she had not missed the implication that he knew who she really was by his use of her family name. This is a very learned road bandit, she thought to herself suspiciously. She gestured for her to continue.

The one eyed mountain of a man’s face hardened. “The youngest member of our quiver, Kairos, was barely into his twenty fifth year when we left.” Kratos paused before continuing, “A good strong lad, but he had yet to kill a true, battle-hardened warrior.” His eye shifted from Akantha over to Persus and held there for awhile before returning to Akantha. “Your man Persus presented a perfect opportunity.”

Akantha’s eyes widened and she turned to look at Persus, who was still nervously rubbing his jaw. “Is this true,” she asked incredulously, “did you accept a duel with this Kairos?”

Persus met her eyes for a moment and made to reply, but was once again cut off by Kratos.

“It’s not as if we gave him a choice in the matter, my Lady,” Kratos assured her with a grin, “it was either that or we dump what was left of him in the river and divide up his belongings. Personally, I’ve always wanted a southern-crafted sword like the one he’s got.”

“This is how you lost your tooth and broke your nose, I assume,” she asked Persus flatly.

Persus nodded. “Yes, my Lady,” he replied sheepishly. “I apologize.”

She thought about it, but eventually she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “And where is this Kairos now,” she inquired.

Kratos’ grin turned savage and he shrugged his shoulders. “As I said, my Lady: if a man does not know his own betters, then he is but a foolish boy. In our part of the world, we cannot afford to feed and clothe foolish boys any longer than we must. Rites of passage exist for a reason. For myself, I am glad to have my old hammer back,” he said with a pat to the largest stone-headed hammer Akantha had ever seen, which Kratos kept strapped across his back. “I gave it to my brother ten years ago, hoping he would grow both strong, and smart enough to use it. A foolish hope, as your man Persus so ably demonstrated.”

Akantha was stunned. Persus had killed the brother of this giant of a man, and that is why they were here now? These men truly were uncouth barbarians, to speak so casually of a family member’s death.

“Why would you pit your own brother against Persus if you knew he was not equal to the task,” she asked disapprovingly.

Kratos shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide. “If a man cannot find a way through a stone wall, he must go around it. If he cannot survive a snowstorm, he must build a shelter. And if the only food available to him is poisoned, he must purify it. Solving problems is what makes us better than beasts. A stone wall, a snowstorm, or a poison are each more powerful than a man if taken at their strengths. The trick,” Kratos continued, tapping his temple with his finger, “is to outsmart them. If we cannot do that, we are nothing but animals. We do future generations harm by feeding and clothing those who cannot become more than animals.”

Akantha shook her head slightly. “I still do not understand your ways, but I wish nothing more than to rid these lands of the Sky Demons before they cause more harm than they already have. If you swear on your blood that you will stand by us in this thing until it is resolved, then there will be no room for doubt between us.” She drew a small knife from her belt and held it between them.

Kratos cocked his head and appeared to consider for a moment before nodding. “I have already made such a vow with your man Persus, but we are in your lands, so I will abide by your customs.” He abruptly turned and bashed his head into an upright timber which supported the roof, causing the entire building to shake momentarily. When he turned back to face her, his forehead was covered in small gashes and splinters, and he reached up with his bare hand to smear some of the blood onto his palm, which he then presented to her.

Akantha went to cut her open palm with the knife, but Kratos shook his head adamantly. “No, Lady,” he said in a serious tone, “the blood of the hand is not the blood of the head, and they sometimes disagree. There must be no room for doubt between us.”

His eye seemed to bore right through her, but she held fast and without breaking his gaze, she pointed the tip of the knife just below the hairline above her right ear and made a short, neat incision. A sharp, fiery pain seemed to spread across her scalp like fire through fish oil, but she didn’t mind. Like so many other things in life, she could endure a minor discomfort in pursuit of greater designs.

After covering her palm with what she deemed was enough of her own blood, she grasped his monstrous hand. “It is done, Kratos One Eye,” she said commandingly. “We are allies in this thing until it is done.”

Kratos nodded and squeezed her hand in what she imagined was a restrained portion of his crushing strength. “Aye, warrior maiden, that we are.”

Akantha turned and left the small barn with Persus on her heel, and before long the roar of laughter had returned to the building.

Akantha opened the door to Fedora Glaros’ house and was greeted by the sight of Leonora, Fedora and two other women sitting at the table working on preparing a truly massive array of grains in an apparent bread-making effort.

“Lady Adonia,” Fedora beamed, her red hair was an unruly mess compared to the first time Akantha had seen her, but her countenance was as vibrant and lively as ever. “We are glad you return safely to us. In times like these, it is difficult to stop even the narrowest of minds from wandering down paths of despair,” she said with a knowing flick of her eyes to the woman seated next to Leonora. She was grey-haired, short and wizened, and she had not looked up when Akantha entered the room. Across from her was a truly massive woman, both in height and girth. Akantha guessed men would not find her pleasing to the eye, but what Akantha needed and what men liked to look at were worlds apart. She wore a shirt of bronze ring armor, and had a pair of finely made, if simply designed woodcutter’s axes cross-strapped to her back. The handles were shorter than they should have been, but other than that they appeared to be fine implements.

“Fedora, I am pleased that you once again receive me in your fine home,” Akantha replied. “Lea, how did you fare in the recruitment?”

Leonora looked pointedly at the hulking woman across the table from her, raised her eyebrows emphatically and said “Well, I’m not sure I quite made the quantity we would have liked…but I’m guessing there’s something to be said for the quality of my catch. I ended up with an even twenty: eighteen men and these two women.”

The large woman stood from the table, and while she was only a few inches taller than Akantha, her girth was significantly more. This was not a particularly fat woman, and neither was she overly muscular; she was simply massive, more massive than all but the largest men.

Akantha’s keen eye noticed that none of the new women bore swords, which in a time of war indicated that none had bonded Defenders for whom they would bear a sword.

“My Lady Adonia,” she said in a deeper voice than Akantha had ever heard issue from a woman’s throat, “I am honored to defend the realm against her enemies, and I hope I will not bring shame to Argos on the field.”

Akantha beamed the most genuine smile she could remember at the woman. “I would ask after your name, good woman,” Akantha asked with a tilt of her head.

The woman stood herself as straight as she could, which only served to emphasize the absurd bulk she possessed, which seemed to almost rival Kratos One Eye’s. “My name is Bernice, Lady Adonia,” she said with an awkward bow.

Akantha’s cocked an eyebrow. “Truly,” she asked Bernice. “If that is so, then I take it as a good omen, as you share a name with Bernice the Undefeated. It is said she never wanted for victory on the field of battle during her twenty year reign over the lands of the East.” Akantha knew that since the woman had not offered her family name, then she had no family to which she could lay claim. A life as a solitary warrior, wandering the land in search of purpose struck her as a terribly lonely, cold existence.

Bernice grinned, and she surprisingly still had all of her teeth, at least all of the ones Akantha could see. “My Lady does me much honor,” she gushed. “But I would remind my Lady that my namesake was known not only for her conquests on the field of battle, but for her prowess in other forms of… contention off the field.”

Akantha laughed heartily and nodded her head as she moved to the table, eyeing the old woman sitting there silently grinding grains in the small mill mounted on the corner of the table.

“How did you do, my Lady,” Leonora asked pointedly as Akantha sat down at the table.

Akantha shook her head. “Twenty six,” she replied sourly.

“Twenty six,” Leonora asked, raising her eyebrows slightly, “putting our total recruits at fifty nine, if you include Persus’ entrants.”

Akantha sighed. “I fear we must include them, Lea,” she said wearily, “someone once told me something like ‘it is best to make do with what you have,’ and at this moment, I sincerely hope that person was right.”

Leonora giggled. “Well, if you count Aetos, Fedora and the three of us, that brings us to sixty four. We can’t rule out Aetos bringing that number up over seventy with his ‘friends,’ either. I’d say the drive went better than we could have hoped for, to be perfectly honest.”

Akantha was forced to agree with her. Cracking fifty recruits was a tall order on such short notice, and not only had they greatly exceeded that figure, but Persus had somehow singlehandedly brought in a full quiver of Black Arrow Ice Raiders. Those men were to road bandits as Nykator’s personal guard were to city watch, and worth at least three times their number of the farmer’s militia, especially if used properly. That brought their effective militia strength closer to a hundred than fifty, which was quite an accomplishment.

Still, everything hinged on Leonora’s razorberry fungus plan, and Akantha was still unclear as to how they were supposed to use it.

“I will apologize for my ignorance now, because I do not understand why you are preparing bread at this time,” Akantha said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Leonora grinned. “It’s all part of the plan, my Lady,” she assured her.

Akantha was skeptical, but she heard a new voice begin to explain, and she turned to see the old woman had turned her milky white eyes toward her. Akantha felt her throat tighten, but she fought the urge to gasp. Seeing such lifeless, hollow eyes sent chills up and down every part of her body.

“My Lady undoubtedly remembers that the smaller demon did not die when it consumed the razorberries,” the old woman croaked, “presumably because it detected the action of the Black Fungus and expelled it before the damage was too severe. Our aim here,” she continued, gesturing toward the various grains strewn across the table, “is to delay that detection until it is too late.”

Akantha shot a nervous glance at Leonora, who nodded calmly and said, “I explained everything we know of them to her already. She has some… experience in matters such as these,” Leonora finished a little uneasily.

The crone cackled. “’Experience,’ she says?” the old woman’s voice sounded like something out of a bedtime story, all creaks and groans. “Oh, aye, I’ve plenty of experience in poisoning all manner of living things. It was a good choice by your red-haired friend, my Lady, picking the black fungus. It’s a delicate substance, easily destroyed by careless hands, but if used properly there is not a more final sentence of death this side of an axe to the neck.”

“I find myself wishing we had an axe that was big enough for the job,” Akantha said stiffly. “I despise the notion of poison, and if our quarry were men, I would never have considered using such a tactic.”

The old woman cackled again, a disturbing sound which made the hairs on Akantha’s neck stand up. “Young people have their morality, just like fruit trees have their flowers. It’s one of the few things you can rest assured you will lose if you’re lucky enough to live a few years more,” the crone croaked, “but when the time comes, just like with the flowers of the trees, your morality will give way to something much more meaningful. Something you can actually use. Until then, keep being a good little girl and enjoy those pretty colors and the sweet smell,” she spat.

Akantha felt her face flush and she stood to her feet, but Leonora gently grabbed her forearm. Akantha looked down, and saw that Leonora was shaking her head evenly. “I didn’t know how to prepare the fungus,” Lea said deliberately, “but I suspected that in one of the forests near here there would be a wise woman who does. She is the only person who can help us do what we must. And for myself, I have learned to ignore the more pointed bits that slide off her tongue.”

The crone cackled again and waved her bony hand before her, “You have nothing to fear from me, First Daughter of House Zosime. As your dear friend says, it is best to ignore old women much of the time.”

Akantha reined in her temper and slowly forced herself to sit back down at the table. She drew a few calming breaths, then she asked, “What is the plan then? And perhaps more importantly, what is your name?”

The old woman stopped chopping the vegetables for a moment to consider. “My name?” she asked blankly, “why, it’s been so long since I’ve used it, that I’m quite sure I don’t remember. Like anything which has no more use, I have discarded it.”

Akantha clenched her first, but kept her voice as even as she could, “It would be disrespectful of me to call you ‘old woman,’ or ‘nameless woman,’ so I would very much like to know what I should call you.”

The crone nodded and cocked her head to the side. “Your point about the awkwardness of describing me instead of labeling me is an interesting one.” She paused and tapped the fingers of her free hand to her chin, while the hand holding the knife rhythmically tapped the tip on the surface of the table. “What is it that binds all of us together, the thing which we will all share in time, and the thing which provides for everything we see around us?”

Akantha looked to Leonora, who shrugged and rolled her eyes. Fedora and Bernice appeared equally lost, as well. She sighed and thought for a moment. “Are you a riddler as well, then?” she asked the old woman.

The crone smiled, revealing a handful of rotting teeth. “A riddle is only a riddle if you don’t fully understand it. If you understand it, it becomes something… deeper.”

Akantha rubbed her eyes, quickly growing tired of this stupid game. “I am afraid I do not have the patience for this at the moment,” she said.

The crone shrugged her shoulders and returned to preparing the stew. “If you find the answer, you may use it as my name. Until then, you are free to call me ‘old woman.’”

“Very well then, old woman,” Akantha said through gritted teeth. Respect for elders and their wisdom was integral to their society. “What is the plan? How do we get the demon to not only eat the poison, but also prevent its expulsion until it has worked its foul magics?”

The old woman smiled and chided, “Poison is not magic, my sweet. It does not require supplications to dark powers, or the sacrifice of beautiful young flesh,” she said darkly. “It merely requires time to run its course, much like a disease. In some ways, poison is a preferable agent of death compared to disease, since an animal carrying a disease will often show signs of infection, but through careful planning and execution, poison can be made undetectable even after it has been consumed.”

Akantha shook her head. “Nothing can survive the consumption of black fungus,” she said with finality.

The crone nodded her head sagely, “Quite so, quite so… which is why our preparation is so very important.”

“We’re making bread because the old woman claims to know of a recipe for small bread balls which can’t be chewed through,” Leonora interrupted before Akantha could retort. “We’re planning to place small quantities of the fungus extract inside those bread balls, in turn placing those inside of a living animal, which we will finally place in the path of the demons. The large one’s appetite, at the very least, seems insatiable. I have little doubt that it will consume the entire batch if we prepare this bread properly.”

Akantha chewed her lip silently, running the plan through her head a few times to try finding weak points. “Much depends on the large demon consuming this animal. What kind of animal did you plan to use as bait,” she asked, acutely aware of how tenuous all of this really was.

Leonora laughed and nodded her head. “Well,” she began, “the demons at the river didn’t seem too impressed with the fish there, so that was out. We considered a pasture animal of some kind, but then I decided that it might look a little too convenient to the things. We don’t know just how intelligent they are, after all,” she lectured. Akantha hated it when people lectured her, but she held her tongue so that her friend could continue her overly long train of thought.

Seemingly unaware of Akantha’s irritation, Leonora continued pleasantly, “So I got to thinking, and I realized something,” she said abruptly. “I don’t think they’re just here to eat, my Lady,” Leonora said in a serious tone, “I think they’re here on some sort of forage, or an expedition to explore and sample everything that is here, much like ants. If they find something they like, they take it all, as with the plum orchard,” she said with a solemn look to Fedora, who nodded slowly as she listened intently to Leonora, “but mostly I think they’re just here to sample things. I have no idea what they’re after, but…”

Akantha waited a few seconds, and when Leonora failed to continue she finally bit. “But what, Lea?”

Leonora sighed. “I tried to think of something that would most certainly get their attention… something big, and something that they would never find this far west, or anywhere near the farmland here. Something which would only be naturally found in much rockier terrain,” she said hesitantly and looked at Akantha with a guilty expression.

It took a moment, but Akantha finally understood what her friend had done. “You didn’t… Leonora, you didn’t!” she blurted more out of incredulity than fear.

Leonora gave her the same false, sweet smile that almost always preceded trouble. “Why, I don’t know what you mean, my Lady,” she lied.

Akantha couldn’t believe it. The Great Hunts began in just a week, so finding one would be nearly impossible on such short notice, but if Leonora was incorporating something like this into the plan at this late hour, then she knew how to find it and bring it here. The ‘how’ was less important to Akantha than the fact that, out here on the edge of the Hold, Leonora had found a Stone Rhino.

That she had found the perfect carrier for the poison was the good news, as they are the hardiest creatures in the world. Even if a few bread balls ruptured, there was a good chance the Stone Rhino could survive long enough to deliver the rest to its target. The bad news was that only the males ventured this far away from their native rocky regions, and it was nearly the peak of rutting season.

Her friend never ceased to amaze, or irritate her.

Chapter Eleven: Wild Things and Deep Wounds

“So how are we supposed to find a Stone Rhino, exactly,” Akantha quipped at Leonora as they slogged through the muddy hillside. The sun had yet to crest the horizon, but its light was steadily creeping across the landscape like a herald proclaiming its coming Ladies and their noble Guardians. Persus followed a discreet distance behind them, keeping company with (or watching over, Akantha couldn’t be sure) three of the Black Arrow Ice Raiders’ finest archers. The band needed to be small to avoid detection, and Akantha didn’t trust these northerners enough to give them the advantage of numbers on an expedition like this.

Leonora kept her eyes forward as she replied, “The old woman seemed to think that with the proper use of some local herbs and spices, we would not have to track the beast.” She reached into the folds of her cloak and produced two small clay vials, one with a brown cork stopper, the other with some sort of melted wax covering the mouth. “She said we are to open the corked vial when we are standing atop the highest hill before dawn fully breaks and drip its contents in a wide circle, and if the winds are with us, the Rhino will come before the hour is up,” she explained.

Akantha was skeptical, but she had been taught long ago not to openly mistrust a wise woman, especially one from the wilds. “And what then? Will it follow us unquestioningly, knowing full well that we desire to sacrifice it to save ourselves?” Akantha was mostly just teasing her friend, but part of her was understandably very concerned about this particular aspect of the plan.

Leonora rolled her eyes as she would usually only do in private and returned to lecture mode. “No, my Lady,” she stressed the last word just enough to tug a smirk from Akantha’s lips, “after we confirm that the Rhino approaches, we are to dip the black stone arrowheads in the contents of the second vial, being careful not to breathe its invisible vapors in the process. These arrows, if they sink in to the shaft, should paralyze it within moments. The paralysis should last for eight to ten hours, depending on how large the Rhino is.”

Akantha blinked. “This is your plan, Lea,” she hissed under her breath, trying to keep her voice low enough that Persus and the Black Arrows could not hear. “We are to take stone-tipped arrows, dip them in poison, and lodge them to the shaft into a male Stone Rhino a week before peak rutting season, but only after we have poured whatever that is,” she pointed to the cork-stoppered vial, “out onto the highest hill before the sun fully rises into the sky? I never took you for a superstitious person, but perhaps I had you wrong.”

Leonora snickered and shrugged her shoulders. “My Lady is wise, as I have always known,” she said with a wink. “Besides, if that doesn’t work, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Akantha rolled her eyes, but she knew there was no other choice. The old woman had said that the bread balls (which she had frequently referred to as ‘pills,’ a common term for all manner of elixirs and liniments in dry form) would dissolve within twenty four hours after their baking, and that even the acids and biles of the human (or Stone Rhino) stomach could not accelerate the process. Unfortunately, they had no way of knowing if the stomachs of demons functioned differently than those of humans, but there was no other way to deliver the poison in such a short time.

They reached the nearest hilltop quickly enough, and did as the old woman had bidden, spreading the foul-smelling contents of the corked vial around in a wide circle just before the first sliver of the sun was visible over the horizon. Within a few minutes, the entire orb had begun making its daily climb across the sky, and the breeze picked up as if on cue.

While they sat there, Akantha used the time to consider their plan of attack on the Sky Demons. How to best deploy the Black Arrows, how to utilize their motley arsenal of weaponry, and who should go in first while others provide supporting fire with their hunting bows. She was not accustomed to making these decisions, but the theory behind it was something she had learned at her mother’s feet when she was a very small girl.

As they sat side by side, Akantha reminisced about their many childhood adventures, in between more serious contemplations, like those currently before them.

“Akantha,” Leonora interrupted her from her thoughts.

Taking a second to collect herself, she turned to her friend. “What is it, Lea?”

Leonora breathed quietly for a moment before continuing. “Why have you not chosen a Protector?” she asked quietly. “You have been of age for years now, and the finest men in the land have all fought, in their own way, for the right to stand at your side. Some of them have even died for it.”

Akantha was stunned. She had not expected to be re-opening this particular subject until they had returned to the Citadel, at the very earliest. She furrowed her brow and thought about it for a few minutes.

Eventually, she leaned back on the rock they had chosen to sit beside and ran her hand through her hair. “I really don’t know how to answer that, Lea,” she said honestly. “I know that my time has come, and that in order to take my place in the world I must choose a suitable Protector, someone who can not only impose his own will upon the world, but mine as well.”

“I know that you take the burden of leadership very solemnly, my Lady,” she said seriously, and it surprised Akantha to hear her best friend use her title, or any title in private conversation. Leonora hesitated before blurting out, “Is it that you are afraid?”

Akantha’s eyes shot open and she lurched up into a sitting position, fixing her handmaiden with a fiery glare. “What do you mean by that, Lea?” she snapped.

Leonora made a ‘calm down’ gesture with her hands. “I mean no disrespect, Akantha. I do not feel the weight of responsibility that is on your shoulders, but if there is one thing I know above all else, it is that one should never judge another until having walked their path for awhile. Our paths are very close to each other, but they are also very… different.”

Akantha felt the fire leave her eyes, and for the first time she realized just how much had changed during these last few years. They had gone from being childhood playmates to ‘Lady’ and ‘Handmaiden,’ and even more recently they had become sisters in battle. But deeper than all of that was the bond of almost sisterly friendship, which Akantha cherished more than anything she could think of at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Lea,” she said quietly. “I suppose that in a way you are right… I am afraid.”

Leonora grabbed her hands in her own and squeezed them gently. “It’s only natural that a young woman should fear such a deep commitment, both physical and symbolic, not to mention lending her power to a man she does not yet know,” the red-haired handmaiden said soothingly. “You wouldn’t be the only girl to have doubts about the whole prospect, believe me…”

Akantha shot her a look, and after a moment she burst into laughter, which she quickly suppressed. Leonora looked confused, “What is it, Akantha?”

Akantha wiped a tear of laughter from her cheek and shook her head. “No, Lea, it’s not that,” she said and smiled, as if at some inside joke. “I’m not afraid of what passes between a man and a woman. It can’t be any worse than all of this, can it?” she asked, waving her arms at the empty vial and the Black Arrows, who had taken up a well-concealed position under a small rock shelf. At that, both women giggled uncontrollably.

“Even at its worst, it’s never quite this bad,” Leonora eventually admitted with a blush.

Akantha removed her hands from Leonora’s and stood up, walking a few paces before turning back to face her best friend. “No, Lea, I’m afraid of what might happen to my people if I make the wrong decision,” she said, feeling suddenly cold. “Look at my mother, for Men’s sake, the finest Hold Mistress in these or any other lands. Hypatios Nykator has her trapped within her own Citadel like some kind of trophy or prize. That is not the way of our people, Lea,” she spat with a cutting motion of her hand through the air.

Leonora nodded and flicked her eyes left and right across the ground before curtly nodding and standing to face Akantha squarely. “Then you do not shrink from the responsibility,” she said in a tone which suggested she was no longer asking, but simply affirming something she believed, but had come to doubt.

Akantha felt her belly tighten and she took a slow step toward her friend. “Lea,” she began in a low, menacing tone, “if I were one to shrink from responsibility, would I be here trying to singlehandedly fight off an invasion of Sky Demons with nothing but a band of farmers, Ice Raiders, and a bottle of some crazy old woman’s Stone Rhino excrete?”

Leonora met her gaze and didn’t flinch. “Then my Lady must make a decision when we return, and I believe the choice is obvious,” she said tightly.

Akantha blinked and stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean?” she asked, genuinely curious what her friend meant.

“You are afraid of making a poor choice, and having that choice impact your people in a way which is harmful,” Leonora stated matter-of-factly. “Being afraid only means you are intelligent enough to see potential problems before they are obvious, so we should see to it that your first choice is one which can be undone, if necessary. There is no other way to ensure that you are not saddled with a choice which will haunt your forever, as Hypatios Nykator haunts Polymnia Zosime.”

Akantha was having a hard time following Leonora’s meaning, and she shook her head as if to say she didn’t understand.

Leonora smiled mischievously and moved closer to her friend. “What makes Hypatios Nykator so implacable?”

Akantha eyed Leonoroa suspiciously, but decided to play along. “He is a feared leader of men, and he has never lost a battle. No man would dare challenge him in warrior’s combat, for it is a certain death sentence. Even those who have dueled him in a deathless match have invariably become crippled.”

Leonora nodded, as if she were lecturing a child on letters and numbers. Akantha really hated it when she did that. “And if he were not invincible on the battlefield,” Leonora continued, “do you think he would still be at your mother’s side?”

Akantha shook her head. “Of course not, Lea,” she sighed and folded her arms across her breastplate, “with his behavior, he would have faced challenges both public and private at every opportunity.”

Leonora nodded again. “And who decides when those opportunities should be presented?” she asked innocently.

Akantha snorted and narrowed her eyes. “You know that my mother would be the one to arrange such challenges, Lea.”

“True, Akantha,” Leonora agreed, “your mother, the Hold Mistress, would arrange for a series of challenges to test his ability to serve as Protector of the Hold. If he failed these challenges, then he would be honorably dismissed from her service and your mother would be free to select a new Protector, according to tradition.”

Akantha shook her head. “It’s not as simple as that, Lea,” she said dismissively, “there are certain conditions which must be met in order for the Hold Mistress to present challenges to a Protector.”

Leonora nodded and quickly replied, “I believe Polymnia Zosime has already met and indeed, exceeded those conditions, Akantha. Your mother has born six children by Hypatios Nykator: four daughters and two sons, which more than qualifies as meeting the most… sensitive conditions necessary to challenge an established Protector’s ability to discharge his duty. The conditions for dismissing a less-established Protector are understandably even less onerous.”

Akantha didn’t like where this was going, but she clenched her fists and tried to remain calm. “Lea, it’s not that simple…” she started, but she didn’t know what else to say.

“Not that simple?” asked Leonora mockingly. “I would say the matter is most certainly a simple one, which is why your mother has abided by tradition the same way her ancestors conducted themselves, in an effort to keep things simple and preserve the dignity and honor of the realm. She was willing to sacrifice her own dignity and desires in order to do what she knew was best for her people,” Leonora said challengingly.

Akantha scowled at her handmaiden’s condescension, but before she could respond, Leonora continued, “But we’re not really talking about your mother any more, are we?”

Akantha felt her blood boil immediately. “Are you suggesting-“ she started coldly, but Leonora cut her off mid-sentence.

“No, Akantha, I’m not suggesting anything,” Leonora spat, “I’m saying as plainly as that sun is rising into the sky that you think yourself above tradition!”

Akantha cocked her clenched fist and swung hard at Leonora, but the red-head was too quick and she fluidly swayed away from the blow and rolled gracefully to Akantha’s weak side.

“You’ve never hit me when I didn’t want you to, my Lady,” Leonora said playfully, but Akantha was furious.

“Above tradition! How dare you, Lea?! Everything I do is for our traditions!” Akantha raged and lunged at the handmaiden with her arms trying desperately to grab the smaller, nimbler woman.

But the red-head was too smooth, and she sprung back on the balls of her feet, dancing away in wide, mocking steps. “Oh, get over yourself, my Lady,” hissed Leonora, “you aren’t the first woman who has had to choose between the unpalatable and the unthinkable! Will you never set your pride aside in the interests of your people?”

Akantha was only hearing every other word as she reached down for a fist-sized stone and hurled it at the smaller woman. She missed as Leonora easily sidestepped the missile, but Akantha had gained the edge she needed. She rushed toward her handmaiden as quickly as she could, making a show of putting everything she had behind an overhand punch designed to knock her opponent out cold. Leonora deftly ducked well below the incoming blow, much to her detriment, as she would soon learn.

Akantha shifted her weight low and scissored her legs toward her opponent’s as she slid the last meter or so of distance between them, and while it couldn’t be scored as a direct hit due to the other woman’s quick reactions, it achieved the desired effect. They became momentarily entangled which was all Akantha needed in order to grab a handful of Leonora’s hair.

They fought and struggled, but it was clear that Akantha would win the contest now. She was significantly larger and stronger than Leonora, and the red-headed woman’s speed was completely neutralized. Akantha managed to pin Leonora’s leg between her own and pressed her to the ground. Defiantly, Leonora thrust upward with her hips, knocking Akantha momentarily off-balance, and Leonora used the brief space to initiate a roll.

They rolled on the ground down a rocky ledge and onto a small dirt landing a few meters below their starting position. After they had come to a stop, Akantha once again achieved the top position and pulled Leonora’s head back sharply with her handful of hair. As she opened her mouth to scream something about questionable ancestry at her rebellious handmaiden, the air was filled with the loudest roar she had ever heard, but it had not issued from her own throat.

Akantha’s head snapped toward the sound’s source, as did Leonora’s. Standing no more than thirty meters away was the largest Stone Rhino either of them had ever seen or heard of, and all thoughts of petty bickering and youthful squabbles were instantly erased from their minds.

They rolled apart, returning to their feet as quickly as possible but no sooner had they regained their footing than the beast roared again and charged them. Akantha glanced quickly to either side, but she could not see Persus or the Black Arrows anywhere.

She noticed Leonora rushing back to where the vials had been, and the red-head was visibly panicked. Leonora did not appear able to find the wax-covered vial with the paralyzing poison.

Akantha cursed under her breath as she reached for her axe. She stood well away from Leonora, hoping to at least divide the creature’s attentions momentarily by presenting a pair of targets, rather than one.

The monster came on in massive, loping strides which seemed to come from impossible mechanics. The Stone Rhino’s skin, normally a uniform grey color, was now covered in razor sharp, hair-like fibers which concealed the small bluish blisters covering its hide. Those blisters would eventually shrink and harden into the familiar pebble shaped structures which made Stone Rhino armor unparalleled.

The four rear legs were each as thick as a tree trunk, with hard soles capable of crushing any man caught beneath them, but the two front legs were what made the Stone Rhino so terribly dangerous. Longer than the rear legs, they ended in massive, vicious tri-claws which were sharp enough to cut through stone, which was exactly what the Rhinos used them for. Those claws had also been known to bring down walls and battlements, which was the reason Argos’ fortifications had been built so tall.

This particular specimen was at least twice as tall as a grown man, likely weighed multiple tons, and it was more than a little enraged. The three foot long, jagged, pointed horn rising from its snout was not round, but shaped like a curved blade with a serrated lead edge. Its bony, toothless mouth was also lined with three rows of external tusks which swept back along the jaw line, making the entire surface of the creature’s huge muzzle a mess of razor sharp edges.

Akantha didn’t have time to come up with a plan, so she raised her axe high and prepared to cross in front of the creature at the last instant of its charge, hoping to strike its front leg and hobble it so they could more easily outmaneuver it.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Persus lunged and grabbed her by the waist just before she was set to execute her maneuver, letting his momentum carry them both safely out of the beast’s path. The Rhino roared in rage as it swiped the air where she had been standing, but having built up too much speed to turn or stop, it slowed itself before turning to face them.

Just before it had stopped its forward motion, Akantha heard the twang of bowstrings from the other side of the creature’s body. The Rhino seemed not to notice, and it charged toward her as soon as she came back into its field of view.

Persus clenched Akantha’s shoulder and pointed to the top of the rock she and Leonora had been sitting at a few minutes before. Akantha shook her head, but Persus’ face grew hard and he gave her a stiff shove in that direction before placing both hands on his greatsword and moving himself between the charging Rhino and Akantha.

The Rhino was apparently satisfied with going after the larger of the two targets anyway, and it lunged toward Persus at the end of its charge. Persus brought his blade up and fell sideways, bringing his sword down as he rolled out of the way. His maneuver was clearly designed to bring down a Stone Rhino by first denying it the use of one of its claws, but the Rhino’s hide was too tough. Persus’ perfectly executed blow barely left a mark on the thing’s massive, shaggy leg.

For his failure, Persus was rewarded with a swipe of the monster’s body as it went by, which sent Akantha’s heart sinking. She had been told that once a warrior was entangled in that mess of sharp hair, it was impossible to get him out.

She heard the twang of bows once again, and quickly looked in the direction of their sound. The three Ice Raiders were perched almost exactly where she had first seen them, which was confusing since she hadn’t been able to find them a few moments earlier. She snapped her attention back to the Rhino, but did not see any arrows sunk into its hide.

As the Rhino charged on, Akantha could see that Persus had indeed become caught in its hair, and was being drug alongside the monster. She screamed furiously and charged down the rock toward the monster with her axe in hand.

But, as usual, Leonora was quicker and Akantha saw out of the corner of her eye that her handmaiden was sprinting along the high ledge off which they had tumbled earlier, and she was headed straight toward the Stone Rhino, which was slowing itself to apparently turn and make another charge toward Akantha.

Akantha heard the twang of bows yet again, but she knew there was no way those arrows would penetrate the hide of this enraged beast. If only she had some of the paralyzing poison they were using on the arrows, then she might be able to use her axe to get it under the Rhino’s skin!

Her only hope was that she could wound its legs badly enough to bring it down and somehow free Persus. She knew it was unlikely that she would succeed, but it was her duty to try.

She braced herself for the exchange as the monster began what would be its final charge at her, one way or the other. She felt her blood turn cold, and for a moment time seemed to slow.

Then she saw Leonora, grasping some kind of crude spear in both hands, leap from the rock ledge she had been racing up and plummet through the air toward the Stone Rhino. Her timing was perfect, and using every last bit of speed and power she had, she plunged the spear into the Rhino’s back where it buried to the shaft and stuck upright like a banner pole. Leonora’s leap left her no choice but to let her inertia to carry her over the monster’s shaggy hide and into the branches of a twisted, dead tree. To survive such a fall would require incredible skill and luck, but to face the razor-sharp hairs of the Rhino without armor would also be a death sentence.

Akantha screamed furiously and raised her axe, yelling a battle cry which promised vengeance as she raced toward the oncoming Stone Rhino. Her mother had taught her the first rule of battling a predator: never run away, only run toward your would-be killer.

The distance closed quickly enough, and just as she began to bring the axe around for what might have been the final swing of her life, the Rhino’s front legs spasmed and almost immediately crumpled. It fell awkwardly to the side, crashing into nearby boulders before coming to a stop a few feet from Akantha’s position. Thankfully, it fell onto the side opposite where Persus was stuck, sparing him a crushing death.

After the dust had settled and Akantha realized she was no longer in danger of being trampled, gored, disemboweled or otherwise painfully ejected from the world, she moved to help Persus extricate himself from the tangled mess of razor sharp Rhino hair.

The Ice Raiders came out of their perch to assist as well, and within a few minutes of delicate cutting, they were able to free Persus. The damaged area appeared significant, but it was mostly superficial, at least to his head. The sharp hairs had turned his face into a bloody criss-cross of small lines, a pattern Akantha did not remember ever seeing before. It would seem that surviving such an encounter with a Stone Rhino was a rare thing.

After Persus was standing, he began removing his armor in order to completely eliminate all of the fibers from the Rhino’s coat. “They’ll just keep working deeper and deeper if I don’t get them out now,” he explained hoarsely, having apparently suffered some damage to his neck, as well as his face.

A few moments later Akantha heard a sound coming from the dead tree where Leonora had landed. She cursed herself for not remembering her friend and ran to the tree as quickly as she could.

When she arrived, she spotted Leonora’s form leaned up against the trunk of the tree. Akantha’s heart leapt momentarily, but as quickly as her elation had arrived, it was dashed. Leonora was clutching her side, beside which was a small pool of blood. Akantha dropped her axe and rushed to the side of her friend.

“Leonora,” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, “Leonora, what can I do?” Akantha grabbed her friend’s free hand with both of hers as she looked up and down her body.

When the red-haired handmaiden looked up, Akantha could see that her skin was already pale. “Akantha,” she replied, smiling broadly, “now I can tell my ancestors that the greatest warrior maiden our people ever saw never hit me when I didn’t want her to.” Her tone was defiant, but her voice lacked its usual vigor.

Akantha’s eyes were filling with tears, but she refused to let them overcome her. She forced a short laugh and nodded her head. “You battled with Bernice the Undefeated and didn’t tell me?” she asked facetiously, which evoked a laugh from Leonora followed by a wince as she clutched the side of her torso where the bleeding was heaviest.

One of the Ice Raiders whistled behind her, which Akantha took as a signal for the others to help. She didn’t care; right now the only thing that mattered was her friend.

“No, my Lady,” Leonora replied, “I would have told you about that.”

Persus arrived and moved to the side of the still-bleeding wound, tearing at Leonora’s clothing to expose the damage, revealing a deep gash which covered far too much of her upper abdomen. When his eyes finally met Akantha’s, he shook his head solemnly.

“How long,” Akantha asked after what seemed like an eternity. “How long does she have?”

Persus shook his head stoically. “Minutes, or perhaps an hour. She is as strong of mind and body as any man I’ve fought beside, but the wound is simply too grievous.”

Leonora clenched her teeth in pain, and Akantha couldn’t stop the tears now. Her best friend was going to die because of her. She couldn’t help but think that if she had been able to come up with a better plan, or if she had been less eager to run away from the Great Hall and all its problems, her friend would not have been forced to sacrifice herself.

“Akantha,” Leonora whispered, and motioned for her to come closer.

Akantha did as she was bidden, leaning close to her friend to hear what she had to say.

Leonora slapped her face hard, and the sting of it snapped Akantha out of her silent self-punishment. Leonora then grabbed Akantha’s collar and pulled her close, locking eyes with her before speaking. “If you even think about feeling pity for me or yourself, Sky Demons will be the least of your problems, my Lady,” she said with as much conviction as a dying person could muster.

Akantha was shocked, but she bit her tongue for the first time she could remember, at least during a fight with Leonora. She simply nodded and lowered her eyes mournfully.

After a moment’s pause, Leonora said, “I think I like this hill. Could you carry me to the top so I can see what we’re fighting for?” she asked through gritted teeth.

They did as she asked and carried her to the highest point, which was the rock she had shared with Akantha prior to their sudden fight. The view was magnificent, as both the mountain and the base of the rising hills which held the Citadel were clearly visible in the morning sun. Rows of farmland, winding streams and rivers, even small wooden fences were visible on the plains stretching between the hill and the mountain.

Leonora sighed after taking it in for a few minutes. “Yes,” she said peacefully, “I like this hill. Akantha,” she began in a tone which suggested a request was coming.

Akantha wiped some fresh tears from her face and clutched her friend’s hand in her own. “What is it, Lea?”

Leonora smiled weakly. “Do you remember the old stone cottage just outside the walls of the Citadel where we used to play hoplites and maidens,” she asked.

Akantha laughed. “You mean the one with no roof and only two walls? The one where you kissed that boy for the first time… what was his name?”

Leonora smiled and tried to laugh, but it was easy to see that her strength was leaving her fast. “Thol. His name was Thol, and you know it,” she said quietly.

“Yes, that’s it: Thol,” Akantha said as if remembering for the first time. “Your first kiss was from a boy who only had half a name.” She was trying hard to smile, but all she could do was fight to keep her lip from quivering uncontrollably.

“Half a name, but he more than made up for that particular shortcoming in other ways…” Leonora retorted weakly.

Akantha nodded. “As you have reminded me for years,” she agreed.

They sat there together silently until Leonora broke the silence. “I would like to stay here, and I would like you to build me that cottage right over there,” she said, and pointed to the tree where she had been wounded.

Akantha didn’t know what to say. “Lea,” she began, “you should be in the crypt of the Great Hall. You spent your life in service to Argos, and you have more than earned your place there.”

Leonora nodded and her eyes rolled slowly around in her head before she refocused. “Yes, I have earned it,” she admitted, “but I never wanted to live in the Great Hall. I wanted to live in that cottage with Thol. I can’t have Thol now, but you can still give me the cottage.”

Akantha nodded slowly and thought about what was being asked of her. “Would you like all four walls, or just two like you remember it?” she finally asked, finding humor easier to come by in this moment than she ever imagined it would be.

Leonora tried to laugh, but could only summon a weak cough. “Four walls, please… and a roof, if it isn’t too much trouble,” she said quietly and closed her eyes. “I always wanted some animals, too. Some small birds would have been… perfect.”

Akantha nodded, knowing she had precious few moments remaining with her friend. “I promise, Lea. I will build it exactly as it was on its first day, and I will fill its yard with all manner of animals: birds that wake you each morning with their singing, hounds to keep your children safe, and even sheep for shearing so we can weave our own simple gowns together as old women.”

Leonora shook her head slowly. “No sheep, Akantha. I never could stand… the smell…” With that, her head rolled forward and she was gone.

Akantha held her friend and wept silently for awhile, before looking to the sky and praying that her friend would be found worthy of upload, as one of the Chosen of Men.

Afterward, she ordered Persus and the three Ice Raiders to gather stones for a burial pile. Leonora would look out over this landscape for all eternity, with the open sky above her, filled with the birds she loved. She would not sleep alone in the dark, wet earth. And when they were finished with her burial, Akantha would make sure that her best friend’s sacrifice was not in vain.

It was her duty as Hold Mistress, and nothing would stop her from fulfilling it.

Not even demons from the sky riding burning stars.

Chapter Twelve: The Long Road

It took the five of them three hours to build a suitable burial pile of flat stones for Leonora, but when they had finished, they stood together in silence for a short time. Then, as was custom, they turned as one and left her behind.

They went about the business of inserting the poison pills into the paralyzed Rhino’s body, which was dirty work, but it was what they had come to do. When they had finished with that task, which took perhaps half an hour, they made their way back onto the road leading to the Glaros farm hold an hour away.

The Stone Rhino would wake in another handful of hours, and they did not desire to be anywhere near when it did so. Akantha was reasonably certain that it would not disturb Leonora’s grave, since Stone Rhino males forsake all forms of food during rutting season, even a fresh kill.

They walked for a time, with Persus walking beside Akantha and the Ice Raiders keeping a respectful distance behind them. Eventually Persus broke the silence.

“What were you arguing about, my Lady,” he asked suddenly.

Akantha’s reverie was broken and she looked at him blankly for a moment.

‘You and Leonora,” he pressed, “what were you arguing about? I’ve seen you two fight before, but this time seemed a bit… different, somehow.”

Akantha nodded absently. “It was different, Persus,” she agreed after failing to find an answer. “It’s complicated,” she said finally, feeling very cold and hollow inside.

Persus nodded and they walked in silence for some time, but he eventually broke that silence again.

“I heard talk of Protectors,” he offered, “which is obviously something that weighs heavily on your mind of late.”

Akantha nodded, momentarily amazed and ashamed that even though mere hours had passed, tears were no longer freely flowing down her cheeks. “She suggested I am vain, and that I should accept that a measure of personal sacrifice is required to lead our people,” she recalled, then she rubbed her temples as she became acutely aware of the headache which had been building above her eyes, “as if I didn’t already know that.”

She stopped walking for a moment and when Persus did likewise, she looked at him and asked bluntly, “Do you think she was right?’

Persus bit his lip in the manner Akantha had come to signal he was about to parse his words. “Persus, I asked your opinion,” she said impatiently, “I have no need for softened words. I want you to give me your honest reply: was she right?”

Persus rubbed his hands slowly before splaying them to the side. “I think you don’t know when to be a hoplite, my Lady,” he said bluntly.

Akantha felt the color rushing to her cheeks, but she tried hard to control her temper. “And what does that mean, Persus,” she asked, clenching her fist so tightly she was afraid to look down to see if her palm was bleeding. “Have I not proven myself a capable warrior these last few days?”

He sighed. “I mean, my Lady,” he began, “that there is a difference between a hoplite and warlord.”

Akantha was taken aback, but she felt her fist relaxing at her side. “Go on, Persus,” she prompted, as she continued to walk.

“A hoplite,” Persus started after a short silence, “needs to know what is expected of him, and he must struggle to fulfill those expectations. It’s never easy, but rarely is it complicated. The life of a hoplite is a simple one; your warlord tells you where to go, who to kill, and when to retreat. You just have to follow his orders, and try to keep yourself alive as you do so,” he explained.

Akantha nodded absently, unclear where he was going with this.

“A warlord, on the other hand,” Persus continued, “is the one who decides which fields are important, and which ones are not. He decides who goes in the first wave and who goes in the last. The life of a warlord is anything but simple, and the best warlords are the ones who can predict the future better than their enemies.”

Akantha considered this for a few minutes before shaking her head in frustration. “I don’t think I understand your meaning, Persus.”

Persus nodded hesitantly, “I think you do, my Lady,” he insisted. “There are times in each of our lives when we have to be the hoplite, and times when we have to be the warlord. No one can be just one or the other forever; life doesn’t work that way,” he explained. “I think your problem isn’t that you’re incapable of being the warlord; I think your problem is that you don’t know when to be the hoplite.”

She had never thought about it quite like that before. She let the depth of what he was suggesting sink in before responding. “So you think that I look too deeply, and try to control events too much, is that it?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I suppose I always thought that was my role, and if I could not fulfill it, then what is my purpose?”

Persus stopped walking, prompting Akantha to stop and face him. “My Lady, you are without question the most capable woman I have ever met, Hold Mistress or not,” he said seriously. “I will follow you to the gates of Hades and escort you safely back through them if I have an ounce of strength in my body.” He paused to take a breath, then he turned his eyes to the ground and continued, “I have rarely seen a person pursue what she thinks is right with more conviction or passion than what I have seen in you these last few days, and I have never in my life seen a Lady cast herself in the path of the fire to protect her subjects the way you have.”

Akantha didn’t know what to say to this. Persus had never been overly fond of speaking in her company, but his words had always carried a kind of weight she thought a father’s, or at least an uncle’s words might.

Persus clapped his hand on her shoulder. “Not every decision you make will be the right one, and sometimes even right decisions carry a price,” he said with a meaningful look back toward Leonora’s hill, “but it is unforgivable to become paralyzed by fear of the consequences. Your people will gladly pay the price you ask of them, but only if you lead them as a hoplite: from the front. That is the only form of leadership which all people respect.”

Akantha bit her lip. “So you also think I should name my Protector when we return to the Great Hall?” she asked in resignation.

“I think you shouldn’t worry so much about tomorrow, and start living for today,” he replied confidently. “Your people need you now, especially in light of the imbalance caused by your uncle and his men. Stability is a good thing to strive for, but too much of it makes people… complacent. That is not our way.”

She found that she agreed with him completely on his last point. “Kallistos or Kapaneus, which do you think is the better man for the job?” she asked suddenly.

“While he lacks a basic sense of honor, there is no questioning Kapaneus’ competence as a warrior,” Persus mused. “Kallistos, while a skilled negotiator and adequate swordsman is too… self-consumed, at least in my opinion, to execute your will effectively.”

Akantha turned abruptly and continued walking. “Right,” she said confidently, “Kallistos it is, then.”

Persus’ eyebrows shot up. “Kallistos?” he asked in apparent bewilderment.

Akantha nodded absently. “It’s what Leonora was trying to say: make sure my first Protector is someone I can remove if necessary,” she explained and paused before adding sheepishly, “I think my mother was even trying to tell me something similar in the Great Hall before I lost my temper.” She shook her head before continuing, “If Kallistos is ill-suited as my Protector, then the choice will have only cost me my pride, while Kapaneus might prove too difficult to remove from the position, much like my Uncle Nykator has been.”

Persus didn’t seem convinced, but he shrugged his shoulders and continued following her.

“Besides,” she continued, “Nikomedes is certain to challenge whoever I select immediately upon his return; it’s not as if he will abandon the hunt simply because of poor timing, and I very much doubt that Kapaneus will sit idly by while that pompous, strutting fool Kallistos claims what he considers to be rightfully his,” she spat. “But I am not so certain that Kallistos would maintain his own interest if I chose Kapaneus, and I can only make a final decision when the three of them are assembled on equal footing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No matter the outcome,” she said with icy disdain, “my Uncle’s inner circle is depleted, and I can make the best decision possible with what I have available to me.”

Her bodyguard chuckled under his breath, prompting Akantha to turn toward him. “What is so funny?” she demanded.

“I do believe you will be the finest Hold Mistress in the world, Adonia Zosime,” were his final words on the long road back to the Glaros farm hold.

Chapter Thirteen: Duty, Revenge, and The Price of Victory

The old woman assured them that she could summon the Stone Rhino using a similar method to the one they employed atop the hill, and that she could do so well before the poison pills erupted within its body. Akantha didn’t like the prospect of trusting her, but there really was little choice. The plan was to strike at dawn at the latest, since that is when the poison was likely to take effect, assuming the demon lord (or whatever it really was) actually consumed the whole batch.

But poison or no poison, the attack would commence. Akantha had taken a few hours after returning to the Glaros farm hold to gather her thoughts and clear her mind. She knew that she had to grieve for Leonora, but there would a time for that, and it was not now. She needed to focus on their tactics for the coming battle, and they had precious little information on which to construct those tactics.

Aetos had managed to collect another dozen free men to battle the Sky Demons, which brought their total number to seventy five. It was more than she had originally hoped for, but she privately held great doubt that they could truly be victorious in the contest.

Akantha spent the final hours before nightfall conferring with Persus and Kratos One Eye, trying to devise the best possible plan of attack. They finally agreed that simplicity would be the best approach: a spearhead formation of the close-range fighters led by the Black Arrows, supported by roughly half of the militia fighters, with the rest of the militia taking up firing position with their bows. The choice of terrain would be largely left up to fate, which was why simplicity was critical. A complicated plan can collapse with a single shift of the underlying assumptions, but a simple one is more easily adaptable to the situation.

After getting a few hours of sleep, they collected their arms and armor and set out for the Stathis’ tuber farm, hoping to catch the trail of the Sky Demons from there.

They arrived at the Stathis farm hold just before midnight to find the entire area had been picked clean. This surprised no one, and neither did the ease with which they picked up the trail of the great, bloated Sky Demon God, heading west as Akantha had predicted.

The scouts, led by Aetos, moved ahead of the main group. After nearly an hour of travel, Aetos returned with confirmation of their location: another farm hold, this one having already been evacuated the day before, thanks to the runners. The livestock had been left behind, along with their massive grain harvest from that season. It had apparently been a bountiful year.

“The terrain is perfect for an attack, Hold Mistress,” Aetos reported eagerly. “Our bows can set up along the southern ridge and our warriors can come at them from the east. To the west is another small stream, and the north is their grain fields, with the chaff not yet plowed under.”

Kratos grunted. “That chaff would make for fine tinder, with the dry weather these last few days,” he remarked, to which Persus nodded his assent.

“Agreed,” Akantha said stiffly, “although I doubt we need to worry about the demons running away as long as the large one remains a slower-moving target. Also, the fire might eventually be turned against our own people, if we are forced to fall back and regroup.”

“So, no fire to the fields?” asked Persus.

“No fire to the fields,” she confirmed. “If we had a quantity of burning oil, it might be something to consider, but a grassfire would only serve to hinder our own mobility.”

Kratos thumped the head of his hammer against the ground in protest. “Are we to plan our retreat before we even come to grips with them?”

Akantha locked Kratos’ lone eye with hers. “I am not here to sacrifice my people to that thing,” she said hotly, “we are here to bring them down and prevent the spread of their vile influence, if possible. If we cannot do so, then nothing is served by the meaningless slaughter of my citizens.”

The one eyed giant of a man snorted, but said no more.

Persus broke the tense silence. “What signal shall we use to commence the attack?” he asked Akantha.

Akantha had thought about this part. “The signal will have to be silent,” she explained. “We cannot surrender whatever portion of surprise we might have, so the entire force will move as one toward them as quietly as possible. Once battle breaks out, the archers are to rain arrows down on the large one, and whatever demons stay to guard it.”

Kratos snorted again, prompting Akantha to whirl around to face him. “You are right about one thing, warrior maiden,” Kratos agreed, “we cannot surrender the element of surprise. My men can approach them in stealth, and after battle is joined, you may lead your militia in to support us.” He glared at her with his steely eye, “Your people are brave, but they are not true warriors. Mine are both. Even if we cannot strike a great opening blow against them, we can seize the initiative for ourselves and control the terrain.”

Akantha seethed at the implied slight to her people’s fighting ability and to her authority, but she had to admit to herself that she agreed with his appraisal. His tactical acumen is quite good… for a road bandit, she thought to herself scathingly. “Very well, Kratos, your men will close with them, and once the battle is joined the archers are to concentrate their fire on the large one and its guards.”

She turned to Aetos. “We will need light as well, since only the Ice Raiders are used to springing ambushes in darkness,” she said, and she liked to think that Kratos bristled at this particular barb. “After they have come to grips with the enemy, I need you to set fire to the roofs of the buildings. Can you do it with fire arrows?” she asked in a hard tone.

Aetos stroked his chin. “I believe so, Hold Mistress,” he said confidently.

“Meanwhile,” Akantha continued, “Bernice has told me that you have a method to protect our skin from the demons’ burning blood,” she said to the old woman.

The crone tilted her head and nodded. “Pitch from the Eukys shrub should provide some protection from their acidic humors,” she croaked. “My own supply is enough to cover the hands and faces of our warriors, but it will only provide limited protection” she said simply.

How do we know the Stone Rhino will even appear before the poison pills rupture?” Persus asked.

The old woman sneered. “Leave summoning the Rhino to me,” she hissed, and signaled for Bernice to help her to her feet. “I will need one of your night bandits for a special mission, cyclops,” she commanded.

They took up positions as outlined in their strategy meeting. Thirty archers, composed of most of the women and the youngest of the men, lined the southern ridge but kept low and out of sight. The rest of the warriors moved around to the east and lay in wait for the appearance of the Stone Rhino.

The old woman had not explained much of her plan to summon the beast, but she insisted that there was no doubt it would succeed. Akantha was skeptical, but she decided the time to worry about it had passed. A battle would soon commence, and she needed to keep her wits about her if they were to find the path to victory.

After a few minutes of waiting at their position, Aetos hissed to get Akantha’s attention. He pointed toward one of the small barns surrounding the farm house, and it took a few moments even under the full moon’s light for Akantha to spot what he was gesturing toward. There was the barest hint of movement, but eventually she did see one of the Ice Raiders in the shadow of the building. It was too dark to see what he was doing, but after a few seconds he disappeared back into the dark of the night.

Time passed tensely, so it is difficult to be certain how long they waited. The lone Ice Raider had returned quickly enough, but judging by the movement of the moon in the sky. Akantha was irked that the best warriors in her fighting force were not under her command, but simultaneously comforted to have their experience on her side. Still, it angered her that she needed to rely on these self-professed bandits, who mere days earlier had been preying on her citizens.

No more than an hour had passed before Akantha heard a familiar roar which sent chills down her spine.

The Sky Demons had clearly also heard the roar, and in a horrifying display of unity, a group of a dozen larger demons broke off from the main group and ran in their odd, loping gait in the direction of the sound.

The rest of the monsters ceased their activity immediately and moved to surround the large one, which was now nearly twice as large as when Akantha had first laid eyes on it. The rate at which they fed the thing was simply astounding, and its skin seemed ready to burst under the pressure of its contents.

After a few seconds, the Stone Rhino appeared, charging headlong toward the farm house, closely followed by the dozen Sky Demons which had left to pursue it. It stopped momentarily next to the building before spotting the large Sky Demon. It bellowed another of its challenges into the night air before charging toward the foul monstrosity.

The large demon issued a piercing scream, and the entire host of Sky Demons flowed like water to intercept the enraged Stone Rhino.

The first few were crushed, and Akantha could see at least two of the demons had become tangled in the mess of sharp, foot-long hairs covering the body of the Rhino. The trapped demons thrashed about, but it was unlikely they could extricate themselves during the battle.

A pair of demons leapt onto the charging Rhino’s head, stabbing repeatedly with their pincer arms. Meanwhile, one of the smaller ones deftly bounded alongside the creature, finally jumping up next to where the two demons were caught. Its efforts were quickly rewarded, as it went to work on the hairs with its noisy weapon and within seconds, the first of the demons fell free. How the smaller, more delicate demon managed to maintain its footing and avoid becoming entangled in the Rhino’s coat of deadly hair, was a mystery to Akantha.

The efforts of the demons attacking the Rhino’s head were somewhat less effective, however. The Rhino redirected its momentum toward one of the other outbuildings, intent on smashing its would-be assassins into the stone wall.

The plan was a good one, but at the last possible instant (and without turning to look at the oncoming stone wall which would be their doom) the two demons moved as one to leap off their quarry’s head. The Rhino crashed into the wall of the structure, utterly annihilating it as the Rhino crashed into the near side of the building, and then emerged from the other side without losing much of its speed.

However, it would prove to be a greater loss than the beast could survive.

Moving with a practiced and seamless unity, the demon horde descended upon the creature as it emerged from the other side of the building. Two of the pincer-armed demons went to work on each of its legs, and at least a dozen of the more delicate, wasp-like demons jumped atop the Rhino’s back, slicing away at its impossibly tough hide. In only a few seconds, the smaller demons gathered around the area just above the Rhino’s shoulders and began to work together. Far more quickly than Akantha would have believed possible, the Rhino’s body spasmed and went limp as the demons had apparently succeeded in severing the beast’s spinal cord.

The large, grub-like demon which had swollen to the size of the main house by now, issued another piercing scream and the horde of demons ceased their attacks. The large demon (or Demon God, as the Black Arrows had come to call it) moved toward the felled Rhino with a combination of worm-like, peristaltic pulsations of its ever-expanding girth, and the action of the thousands of legs located along the bottom of its body.

It was not fast, but for a creature of its size to move at all was impressive, and soon the large demon’s head was positioned above the Stone Rhino. The Rhino was still breathing, but it did not move except to bray defiantly at its killers, a somewhat diminished version of its previous battle cries. For an instant, Akantha felt sympathy for the creature. But only for an instant.

The large demon appeared to study the Rhino, looking up and down its body by swinging its head back and forth while its minions waited motionless. After a few passes, it reared its head back and made a kind of clicking or grunting sound. What ensued as the horde of demons descended upon the Stone Rhino was carnage.

The noisome weapons of the wasp-like demons, to Akantha’s amazement, managed to cleanly dissect the Stone Rhino’s body. After the armored hide had been penetrated, the small demons entered the torso and began removing the Rhino’s innards piece, by bloody piece.

After what could not have been longer than fifteen minutes, the once-great beast had been reduced to a pile of components. It would have taken a team of Argosian experts a week to do the same. The different parts and pieces were separated, and the smaller wasp-like demons were going about the task of sampling the various tissues and organs.

The hair, skin, horns and claws were the only parts which appeared to fail their test. The large demon quickly descended upon the organized piles of guts, meat and bone which had been removed from the dissected corpse.

Apparently satisfied with their diligence, the large demon began to consume the carcass. In little more than ten minutes, the only trace of the murderous horned monster which had claimed Leonora’s life was a ragged pile of hide, as well as its once terrifying claws and horn.

When that task was completed, they went back to processing the various forms of vegetation surrounding the farm house. This process was much slower than the consumption of the Stone Rhino, since as much time was spent sampling and sorting as was spent feeding it to the large demon. Performing some quick mental calculations, Akantha concluded that the demons would only require another two hours at most to complete before moving on to their next target. That meant the attack needed to commence no later than an hour before dawn, which was a little earlier than the old woman’s predictions about when the poison would be released into the demon’s body.

But for now, all that remained was to wait and hope their plans would bear fruit.

Akantha lay there on the wet ground with the members of her fighting force for an hour, waiting for a sign that the poison had taken effect. Eventually, she decided she needed an answer to a question which had lingered in her mind.

“Kratos,” she whispered, as the giant of a man was only a few meters away.

“Aye, warrior maiden,” he replied in a low, raspy voice.

“Your men,” she began, “are all on a quest to defeat their betters, to prove themselves worthy of re-entry to your Clan Hall,” she recounted.

Kratos nodded his head. “Aye, we are,” he agreed.

Akantha chewed her cheek before continuing. “Your brother and one other failed to complete their charge. The one other is you, correct?”

Kratos smiled grimly. “Aye, you have it right,” he replied.

Akantha nodded knowingly. “Which means that this,” she said with a jerk of her thumb toward the Sky Demons, “is your idea of fighting your betters. What kind of man must seek his betters among the stars? Surely you could find a challenge somewhere else.”

The Cyclops chuckled quietly and shook his head. “Would that I could, Maiden,” he started, “but before learning of these creatures, I knew of only one man who could truly test me, and I was on my way to see him when we came upon your man Persus.”

“He is not ‘my man,’ Kratos One Eye,” she bit out coldly, “he is my bodyguard, and has been assigned to protect me since I was a small girl. He is an honorable man and a fine warrior.”

Kratos nodded knowingly. “Oh, aye, he is that,” he admitted. “I meant no offense, maiden,” he apologized.

“I am not a maiden,” she retorted. “I am the First Daughter of House Zosime, the Land Bride of Argos and Messene, but I am no maiden!”

He grinned savagely. “I’m afraid I call things what I see when I look at them,” he said with a challenge in his voice.

She felt her blood run hot, but she knew that now was not the time for petty squabbles. She reminded herself that if she had been more aware of her surroundings, perhaps Leonora would not be dead right now. “Who is the man you sought,” she asked through gritted teeth, “perhaps I can speed your meeting.”

Kratos stroked his beard before replying, “I believe you might: his name is Hypatios Nykator.”

Akantha was speechless at first, then she snickered quietly. “Hypatios Nykator is the greatest warrior in the known world,” she warned after collecting her wits, “all who have faced him in battle have either died, or been crippled beyond their ability to take up arms. He is Lord of the Tegean Host, Protector of Argos and victor of a hundred battles. He is ruthless, cunning and powerful. Only a fool would seek him out to cross swords with him,” she spat.

Kratos pursed his lips before shaking his head and rolling his eye. “Aye, they make similar claims about Kratos One Eye, Lord of the Twin Peaks, Avenger of the Red Dawn, Bearer of Glacier Splitter,” he said with a pat to his massive hammer, “and the Protector of Blue Fang Pass these last nine years,” he remarked absently with a shrug of his shoulders, “or so I’m told.”

It was Akantha’s turn to shrug her shoulders. “If you wish death, then please fight him,” she said with more than a hint of challenge in her own voice.

Kratos looked at his hammer, tracing the carved lettering with his fingers. “If I wished my own death, there are a thousand ways I could have found it in the comfort of my own lands,” he chided. “I would do battle with a worthy foe, and your uncle is the only warrior I have heard of who could present such an opportunity. But now, I find myself presented with something that is more than a man or beast,” he said, his eye turning toward her. “Nykator, powerful as he may be, is just a man. While defeating him would be a worthy display of my own ability, he is still only a man and will be forgotten as soon as he utters his final breath. But the songs of my victory over the Demon God from the heavens will echo throughout the mountains until they have crumbled to dust and been swept away into the sea!”

Akantha shook her head and rolled her own eyes. “I don’t think it truly is a Demon God, Kratos,” she said flatly.

Kratos shrugged his head. “We shall see soon enough, warrior maiden,” he said. “Either way, it will be a battle worthy of glory and a moon of feasting, feasting which you may join in if it pleases you,” he said with finality before turning to his men and speaking in their native tongue for a few moments.

Yes, Akantha thought to herself, we will see soon enough.

Another hour passed, and the tension was only getting higher with each passing minute. Every man and woman assembled knew that if the poison failed, their battle would be a much harder one. The display of coordination and unity which the so-called Demon God seemed to command of the smaller demons was something truly terrible to behold. Even the Stone Rhino, in all its might and fury, had only managed to kill five of the Sky Demons before being brought down.

The most recent count of Sky Demons put their total remaining number at thirty three; fifteen of the pincer-armed variety, and eighteen of the smaller, wasp-like ones with the loud weapons. Disgusting as it was, Akantha was unsurprised when the corpses of the demons which had fallen in battle with the Stone Rhino were cannibalized by their fellows.

At least six of the demons had also returned shortly after the Rhino attack, suggesting they were capable of communicating over great distances, even if only vocally. It was an example of a type of intelligence which angered Akantha far more than it frightened her.

Kratos leaned toward Akantha and said simply, “It’s time. The battle is soon to commence.”

Akantha looked down at the scene of the smaller demons continuing to feed the large one, and she could not see any difference in their behavior. “The poison hasn’t yet taken effect. We must wait until it is time,” she hissed.

Kratos shook his head. “You either learn to sense when a battle is about to begin, or you die with your weapon half-drawn,” he said darkly. “I’ll see you and your men in the middle,” he said, thrusting his hand toward her.

She accepted his hand in her own. “Don’t kill them all before we get there,” she commanded.

Kratos One Eye chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave plenty of the little ones for you,” he assured her. “I’m only interested in the god’s head, but we’ll cut through any that stand in my way.” He then turned silently and moved into the darkness, and Akantha noticed that all of his men had disappeared in the few seconds she had spent conversing with their leader.

Amazingly, as soon as she turned back to view the Sky Demons, she noticed a slight change in their behavior. The smaller, wasp-like ones were moving slightly more rapidly and erratically. The larger ones with the pincers appeared confused, and had ceased their activities altogether.

She looked to the large demon and noticed that the normally rhythmic pulsations of its body had become different somehow. She also noticed that of the twelve ring-like segments of the behemoth’s body, the three of them nearest the head were almost flaccid. Akantha felt her militia’s spirits rise, as they realized the poison had taken effect.

The Sky Demon God, or whatever it was, bellowed with a sound like fingernails scraping across a pane of rough glass. The other demons turned from their activities, and even the larger pincer-bearing ones moved closer to it. The smaller demons immediately began climbing up on the large demon’s body, and set about some sort of task involving their little, whining weapons.

To Akantha’s horror, they began separating the front quarter of the monster with clean, precise incisions between the third and fourth segments, sending large chunks of the creature’s body flying in the process. The Demon God made no attempt to stop them from completing the task, even as its vile inner juices and fluids sprayed from the wounds created by its servants.

Then Akantha saw Kratos’ men moving toward the demon horde. Incredibly, the demons had not noticed them, even as they closed to forty meters distance. The quiver of Black Arrow Ice Raiders flew straight at their target like a pack of wolves chasing their prey across the open plains, forming a perfect wedge shape at a full sprint.

The pack closed to thirty meters, and the demons had still not taken notice. At twenty meters, one of the small demons atop the large one spotted them and made a kind of chittering noise. The demons turned together, but not with the same eerie coordination and precision as with the Rhino. Using their still-incredible speed and agility, the demons leapt to meet their combatants, leaving only a handful to complete the task of splitting the Demon God in two.

Four Black Arrows fell in the opening exchange, pierced through the torsos by the sharp pincers of their attackers. Several of the smaller demons climbed on top of their downed forms to remove their heads with their small, whining weapons. The remaining Ice Raiders fared better, but not much.

Kratos was unmistakable on the field with his hammer, and with his first swing he took out one of the leaping warrior demons. The follow-through of the massive weapon smashed a smaller demon, which had attempted to flank Kratos with the hammer’s first victim. A few of the other Ice Raiders managed to claim kills in the opening moments, but for the most part the initial exchange was evenly matched, and the Sky Demons had strength of numbers.

Akantha raised her axe above her head and screamed furiously, prompting her militia warriors to stand and follow suit. “Argosians,” she yelled, overtaken by the hot fury which can only be known to warriors of the field, “let us send these Sky Demons straight into the ground!”

“No upload for these ones!” cried Bernice, as she stood from her crouch a few meters from Akantha’s position.

Her countrymen bellowed their assent, and together they charged across the distance between themselves and their quarry. The Black Arrows were holding their formation, but the fighting had become bloody in short order. Akantha momentarily wondered if any of them would survive long enough for her own men to reinforce them.

She saw a flaming bolt of some kind fly through the air, and while she didn’t break her charge, she was confused until she remembered ordering Aetos to light the thatched roofs of the farm hold’s buildings. The first arrow sunk deep into the roof of the main house, and the fire began to spread. Another arrow followed, and another, and another until all five of the buildings’ rooftops had small fires slowly spreading across them, providing much-needed illumination.

Shortly following the lighting of the rooftops, Akantha heard the militia positioned on the southern ridge yell in unison, signaling an incoming wave of arrows. She saw the first flight of arrows sail through the air, but was disappointed when only a third of them struck the large demon, with the rest sailing high or coming up short. The behemoth did not seem to notice, but an arrow actually struck one of the smaller demons, which had been cutting through the flesh of the huge one. The smaller demon was knocked to the ground, where it remained motionless after a satisfying crunch upon impact.

Then they had closed the distance, and the battle was joined.

Akantha swung her axe upward in an attack intended to unbalance one of the pincered demons. It had the desired effect, but her opponent’s inhuman balance and speed nearly overcame her as it counterattacked with a pair of clacking swipes with its claws intended to sever her arms at the biceps. She managed to duck the first, and she brought her weapon up to block the second, which clamped onto her axe with vice-like power. She was instantly caught in a battle of strength with the monster; a battle she was certain to lose eventually.

Persus rushed in, using the same shoulder-charge that he had employed on the first demon they fought by the riverbank. His momentum knocked the demon off-balance just enough for Akantha to wrench her axe free and bring the blade down on her opponent’s leg, severing it cleanly. Persus brought his greatsword down at the same instant, cleaving nearly through the demon’s torso. He kicked its spasming remains off his blade and took up position between Akantha and one of the smaller, wasp-like demons.

Kratos was swinging his hammer in wide, devastating arcs which would have easily destroyed anything caught in its path. The demons wisely stayed out of range, but he was still able to claim another pair of small demons with a combination of clever footwork and momentum reverses which would have been impossible for a smaller, weaker and less-practiced man.

Akantha also noticed Bernice, the mammoth of a woman Leonora had recruited. She wielded her twin woodcutter’s axes with deadly efficiency, spinning, kicking and chopping in a whirlwind of razor-sharp death, which had already claimed a pair of foes.

Akantha bellowed furiously and raised her axe high above her shoulder as she charged toward a pair of smaller demons which were dismembering a recently fallen Black Arrow. The demons noticed her charge, but it was too late for one of them as she brought the axe head down through the narrow section between what must have passed for the thing’s torso and its abdomen, bisecting it cleanly into a pair of twitching parts. The other one sprung back, holding its small, curious, yet horrifyingly effective weapon in its delicate, hand-like appendages.

The monster hesitated momentarily, almost as if it was unsure what to do as it snapped its head toward the large demon, which was still being cut on by its fellows. That moment of hesitation cost the creature its life, as Akantha kicked out with all her might and brought the head of her axe down in a fluid, practiced motion which cleanly split the unbalanced creature in two.

“Adonia!” Akantha heard a woman’s voice yell from nearby, and she turned to see one of the larger clawed demons bounding toward her. She swung her axe at the last instant, knocking aside the first of its vicious, claw-like pincers, but her momentary lack of balance caused her to fall backwards to the ground.

The man-sized demon’s second pincer came down toward her head in what she was certain would be her final moment. Seemingly out of nowhere, a short blade knocked the incoming pincer high, where it stuck into the dirt. Almost immediately afterward, Persus’ massive sword came into view, swatting the torso of the demon with the flat of its blade, knocking it back at least four meters, where Akantha’s bodyguard proceeded to battle it.

Akantha looked up and saw curly red hair waving wildly around the head of the woman holding the short blade, and for an instant her heart leapt as she thought it was Leonora. Then the woman’s face turned to her and she saw that it was Fedora Glaros, who promptly offered her a hand to help her stand.

“My thanks,” Akantha panted with a curt nod.

Fedora shook her head. “No, Hold Mistress, you have our thanks,” she replied, and with a curt nod of her own, she padded softly off in search of a vulnerable target.

Akantha took this moment to appraise the situation. Over half of her warriors, including all but five of the Ice Raiders had already fallen, but the enemy had taken similar losses if not numerically, then as a portion of their force. She counted no more than twenty demons defending the large one.

She knew it would be a close thing if momentum did not break their way, and she decided it was time to cause that break. “Persus,” she barked, seeing that he and Fedora Glaros had finally managed to bring down her would-be assassin.

Persus moved to her position. “Yes, Hold Mistress,” he breathed, the right side of his face a ruined, burned mess, apparently having come in contact with demon blood.

Akantha threw her head back and laughed maniacally, pointing to his face. “I like it!” she yelled, overcome with battle lust.

He grimaced but nodded. “I suppose anything’s an improvement,” he agreed sarcastically.

“We make for the heart of the monster,” she ordered, pointing her axe at the head of the large demon, which was nearly completely severed from the bulk of its body, thanks to the inexplicable efforts of the smaller ones. “They are clearly not as coordinated as they were before the poison took effect,” she explained, “and the small ones have become unsure of what to do. If we kill that thing, they will fall into confusion and we can end this battle, but it must be done quickly!”

Persus nodded grimly. “Let’s be to it, then,” he said.

Together, they made their way across the field. As they passed, Akantha motioned for Bernice to accompany them after she had completed a rather epic duel with one of the pincer-wielding demons, resulting in the death of the monster, but also the crippling of Bernice’s left arm, which hung limply at her side with a trail of blood running down and off her hand.

“Remember,” she said as they closed the distance at a jog, “the target is the monster’s head. Nothing else matters!” she yelled, and gave a meaningful look to Persus. “Nothing!”

She then saw two of the larger, pincered demons were bounding toward them, while the smaller ones cutting away on the behemoth’s body seemed not to notice their approach.

Bernice moved to block one of the two demons with her body, slamming into it with enough force to break down a wall before following up with a series of swipes with her axe. She lost sight of Bernice at that point; Akantha’s focus was entirely on her target.

She was ten paces from the behemoth when she was knocked from her feet. Akantha could not immediately tell what had happened, but when her vision returned she saw one of the clawed demons standing over her with her torso caught sideways in its pincer. It was then that she felt the crushing power of that pincer, and heard the cracking of her breastplate. She was strong, but she was certainly not as strong as Persus, and he had barely been able to stop the claws from crushing him instantly.

Akantha had lost her axe, so she reached up for the demon’s head, not knowing what else to do. It responded by squeezing even harder, but in spite of the pain, she was undeterred. She did not know if it had eyes, or ears, or a mouth, but she did know that she would not die without giving her attacker cause to remember her fury.

She grabbed behind the monster’s head with her left hand and punched hard with her right, sending burning pain through her fist as the demon’s sharp armor opened a large, bloody gash across her knuckles, but she paid it no mind. She struck again, and again, and again, ignoring the pain of striking the demon’s spiny armor.

She felt a pair of ribs crack under her breastplate, and it became difficult to continue punching, but she tried anyway. She knew she wasn’t having any effect, but there was nothing else she could do.

Then there was a crackling sound, followed by a hiss and the demon released its grip on her. She looked down and saw an obsidian arrowhead sticking out between two of the armored segments of the monster’s body, with the shaft protruding from the center of its back. She also noticed at that point that the demon only had one arm, the other having been previously removed by one of her allies.

Akantha looked toward the point of origin for the arrow and saw one of the Ice Raiders, kneeling for some reason, but holding his heavy bow and drawing another arrow from its quiver. She nodded her thanks, which he returned, and then she turned back to her quarry.

Persus had made it to the head of the demon, and she felt a thrill of exhilaration as he hacked and slashed at the flesh surrounding the creature’s massive, nightmarish mouth. The massive demon was no longer particularly mobile, and it appeared as though Persus would succeed; he had already cut a meter-deep gash along the near side of its circular maw.

With a burst of speed which should have been impossible for its bulk, the behemoth lunged forward and stabbed two of its mouth’s many sharp, pointed appendages into Persus’ torso. Persus’ sword dropped from his hands, and the monster lifted him up before it, seeming to study him.

Persus grabbed onto one of the appendages piercing his chest and struggled mightily to free himself. Just as it seemed he was making some progress, the monster lashed out with two of its other appendages, which resembled nothing so much as a crab’s sharp, pointed legs. The pair of strikes were fast and accurate, resulting in Persus’ right arm going completely limp and a huge gash opening on his left forearm.

Akantha picked up her axe and screamed in rage, rushing toward the monstrosity. She was not going to allow another of her friends die because of her, and she no longer cared about victory, defeat or the Hold. At that moment, all she cared about was revenge.

“Demon God,” bellowed the voice of Kratos One Eye, the sound of which pierced the din of battle, “put that man down and face someone your own size!”

Akantha saw the form of Kratos running in large strides which almost seemed to shake the ground, and she continued her own charge. Nothing would strip her of the opportunity for vengeance, not even that giant of a man!

The Sky Demon God turned to face them, dropping Persus’ limp form in preparation for their concerted attack.

Kratos swung his hammer in a devastating overhand blow which had no place in a duel among men, but against a target this large and slow, it seemed the perfect choice.

Akantha came in lower with her axe, and slashed across the thing’s mouth at the same instant Kratos’ hammer made contact with the deep gash Persus had opened with his greatsword. The sick crunching sound the hammer made, combined with Akantha’s savage swipe across the creature’s maw, combined for great effect.

The monster’s body shuddered violently, as something sensitive had obviously been dealt a serious blow, and neither Akantha or Kratos needed further encouragement. She swung her axe repeatedly, targeting the uncoordinated stabbing appendages rimming the monster’s mouth. Her axe blows outnumbered Kratos’ hammer strikes at least three to one, but it was hard to tell who did more damage. What was abundantly clear, was the disconcerting effect this had on the other demons.

They began chittering wildly, and the warriors who had previously been fighting for their lives in pitched duels with the monstrosities, were able to take advantage of the immediate effect the Demon God’s death had on its fellows. In a matter of seconds, the demons were all brought down by the Argosians and Ice Raiders, and soon the only sound was the continued demolition of the God’s head at the hands of Akantha and Kratos.

They struck again and again, finding new angles and virgin flesh to punish with their weapons, and eventually Akantha’s axe succumbed to the effects of the demonic blood, shattering into a handful of smoking pieces.

Kratos stopped swinging his hammer shortly after Akantha’s weapon disintegrated, his breaths coming long and labored, and Akantha stood back from the carnage they had wrought on the monster. Its head had been flattened and slashed unrecognizable. There was no longer even a trace of coordinated movement anywhere along its body, and even if there was something capable of exerting control over the pile of ruined flesh, all of its implements of death had been removed by Akantha’s savage onslaught.

Satisfied with their handiwork, she turned to Kratos, whose barbaric rage appeared to have sapped him of his energy, just as Akantha’s fury had drained her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Bernice move to assist Persus, so Akantha decided to focus her attention on the Black Arrow leader.

“You’ve made a wonderful mess of my trophy, warrior maiden,” Kratos growled, and his tone caught her off-guard.

Akantha glared at him, feeling icy fury replenishing her strength. “Then I suggest you satisfy yourself with the other end, as is customary for your people!” she yelled, ready for whatever followed.

Kratos’ eye burned with rage and he tightened his grip on the haft of his hammer. Without warning, he threw his head back and laughed, a grating sound which seemed to emanate from deep within his chest and echoed across the field. He slapped her shoulder hard enough to knock her over if she hadn’t prepared for it. “Are you sure that’s not glacier water flowing through your veins, my beautiful girl?” he asked as jovially as a one-eyed, scar-faced man covered in gore could ask. “Your fiery spirit does not belong here among these spineless southern sheep!”

She didn’t appreciate the overly hard slap to the shoulder, but it was certainly not the worst thing to happen to her today, so she decided to let it pass. “You fight well, Kratos One Eye,” she said begrudgingly, hoping the time for conflict was over. “You do your people much honor, and mine will hear of your deeds this day,” she promised.

Kratos nodded. “We shall speak of your deeds, as well,” he returned. “The warrior Maiden from the south who fights with all the fury of a northern queen, and spits the venom of a sea snake,” he said, presenting his hand to her.

Akantha accepted his hand, which he gripped more tightly than before, and he lowered his voice so that only she could hear him, “But let there be no mistake who felled that beast, whatever it was,” he said, motioning to the still carcass of the behemoth demon.

She had expected this, as pride was something she had come to understand better these past few days. Akantha locked her eyes with his solitary orb. “I only cared about removing this threat from my people’s lands. I do not value the glory of a single kill as you might,” she said bitingly.

Kratos nodded and his smile broadened. “Excellent, then we have an understanding,” he boomed and released her hand. She then noticed that four of his warriors were now at his back, and for a moment she was envious of their talent at stealth.

One of the warriors was the same one who had saved her with a well-timed arrow, and she saw that his left leg had been severed completely below the knee, and one of his companions was preparing to treat the wound to prevent infection.

“You have my thanks, and my respect for your skill with a bow,” she offered after meeting his gaze.

The pale-faced man shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never been very good with a bow. Always been much better up close, but I thought it was worth a try,” he quipped with a weak smirk.

Akantha grinned and returned her focus to Kratos. “And what of you, shall you return to Blue Fang Pass now?” she asked intently. She was appropriately grateful for their assistance, but she not keen on the idea of Ice Raiders remaining in the area any longer than was necessary. As of this particular moment they were the largest threat to the Hold of which she was aware.

Kratos nodded. “Aye, we’ll return after observing rites for our brothers,” he confirmed. “Shouldn’t take but an hour, with all the fire and wood you’ve got around here,” he said, gesturing to the burning buildings illuminating the farm hold.

Akantha nodded. “Then we will assist you. Even though you have helped us this day, I cannot allow those who openly plot to challenge Argos’ Great Hall or the Protector of its First House to freely remain in my lands. Your actions here have earned you safe passage out of the Hold, if you give your word to leave my people unmolested,” she said with as much authority as she could muster, realizing quite suddenly just how tired she was.

Kratos nodded knowingly. “I have no more intentions against your house or its Protector, warrior Maiden,” he assured her, “my quest is complete, but I do understand that we are not welcome. Be that as it may, you are welcome in my lands any time you wish to visit,” he said, plucking a talisman of some kind from beneath his armor. “All people in the north know my sigil, and it will grant you safe passage, should you ever tire of these southern weaklings masquerading as men and come to desire a real man!”

Bravado was something Akantha had learned to endure in her time at the Great Hall, so she simply nodded her head. “We have an understanding, then,” she declared, and went to help with Persus.

Chapter Fourteen: The Fury of A Rising Star

Persus had lost consciousness, and they were unable to rouse him but the old woman assured Akantha that he would live. He would pay a heavy price, however, as at least one of his arms would need to be removed, and quickly if they wished to prevent deadly infection. Akantha had instructed Bernice to return Persus to the Glaros home, where the old woman could make the necessary preparations.

When the final tally was taken, their dead totaled twenty six: eight Ice Raiders, and eighteen brave Argosians who had laid down their lives to protect their neighbors and the Hold. Another dozen Argosians would never set foot on the field of battle again, and half of those would be lucky to see another sunrise. Among the dead was Aetos, Fedora Glaros’ Defender and the man who had served as Akantha’s first scout during this engagement. He had achieved his goal of avenging the deaths of his kinsfolk, which while not an empty accomplishment in Akantha’s estimation, was certainly a bitter one.

The body of the Demon God, or whatever it was, had already begun to putrefy. At least, the dismembered front section had begun to ooze and emit foul odors, but the rear section composing of nine of its bloated, ring-shaped sections appeared intact. In fact, upon further examination, it appeared that the newly made ‘front’ of the corpse, which the small demons had created with their brutal surgery, had shrunk like a great sphincter. The contents were sealed into the remaining sections into a large tube which resembled nothing so much as a great, ribbed sausage link.

The more disturbing news was that when the demon bodies were tallied, she only counted twenty eight. Five of the smaller, wasp-like demons had fled the battle, but after considering their effectiveness in combat, Akantha decided against sending search parties out. The demons had never made much of an effort at stealth, and rounding them up should prove a simple matter once Uncle Nykator’s men arrived in a few days. Besides, if the demons were fleeing then they had the advantage of speed, and Akantha had asked enough of these brave people already.

She did believe it was prudent to warn the members of the local community about them. If caught by themselves, the delicate little demons should not pose much of a challenge to a halfway competent warrior who knew what to expect. So she sent runners to spread the news of the monsters, and to describe their abilities so that her people would be prepared for them. If there was one thing she had learned of her subjects during the last few days, it was that they did not fear battle, and were more than capable of defending their homes.

Dawn broke just as the Ice Raiders completed the funeral rites for their fallen brothers. Aside from swapping out more desirable gear from the bodies of their comrades, the only items the northerners took with them were their cat skin cloaks, which they reverently folded and bundled for the long trek home.

Without fanfare or celebration, the Black Arrows began the long march north. Akantha had presented them with a ring bearing the emblem of Argos to ensure their safety, which Kratos had begrudgingly accepted before departing.

The sun began its daily climb through the sky, as it always did, but it was enveloped in clouds. It looked like rain was coming soon, and surely enough, it began to drizzle by mid-morning.

Akantha was still conducting funeral rites for the fallen Argosians, which was her duty as the only present member of Argos’ ruling house, when there was a growing sound like that of rushing water, or perhaps a great fire.

She remembered something Aetos had said about a sound which had accompanied the star as it fell from the heavens, and it was exactly how she would describe what she was hearing now.

“To arms!” she screamed, and her people looked around in confusion. Fedora Glaros, who had been grieving her fallen Defender, snapped her eyes to attention and scanned the sky for the source of the noise.

Nothing was immediately apparent, but the sound continued to grow until someone pointed and yelled, “Look, there!”

Akantha followed the direction the man had pointed and her blood turned cold. Descending through the rainclouds was what could only have been described as a dragon. It breathed great, roaring gouts of fire from its many heads, some of which were oddly located beneath its curved, segmented body. The fire was a sickly green color, and it concealed the many heads’ features with its roaring flames.

The dragon hovered above them for an eternity before slowly descending, the roar of its flames drowning any other sounds, including the panicked screams of the Argosians.

Even these brave people had their limits, and Akantha could not hold their fear against them. They had just faced down a nightmare, and believed themselves to have achieved victory, though the price had been high. The immediacy of fate’s reversal was enough to break any reasonable person’s will, but Akantha was well past the point of reason.

When the colossal beast was merely twenty meters above the ground, the middle of the dragon’s body seemed to open like a great, toothless mouth between two of the fire-breathing heads . Pouring out of this mouth were a multitude of demons like the smaller ones they had already fought, suspended on what appeared to be great strands of silk, which lowered them safely to the ground.

She looked over to see Fedora Glaros standing beside her, whose wild red hair ringed her face. She was holding Aetos’ pitted, nearly destroyed short blade. Her leather chest piece had been discarded, and what remained of her undershirt was in tatters.

“It’s a fine weapon, Fedora Glaros,” Akantha remarked as she reached down for a discarded axe, and realized it was one that had belonged to Bernice. This must have been the one she lost when her arm was so badly wounded, Akantha thought to herself absently as she gripped it tightly.

Fedora nodded. “It is, but its work is not yet done,” she said defiantly, and once again Akantha could not help but feel pride in her people. It was then that she made one of the most difficult decisions of her life.

“We must go, Fedora,” she shouted. “We cannot allow the sacrifices of those before us to be in vain. Both duty and vengeance dictate that we survive today!”

Fedora looked as though she wanted to argue, but she slumped visibly and nodded. “We have much to fight for, and there is no victory here,” she yelled in agreement.

The two women turned and ran as fast as they could, hoping to make it to the partially wooded area to the east before the Sky Demons could catch them. It would be close, but they had a good lead.

They ran, even though Akantha’s legs burned, and her chest felt as if it would explode. They ran, even when Akantha’s vision narrowed, and the only sound she heard was the beating of her own heart pounding in her ears, drowning out the angry roar of the dragon at her back.

Akantha took a glance over her shoulder and saw four of the demons pursuing them: two of the pincered ones and two of the wasp-like ones, except the wasp-like ones were not carrying their familiar, noisy weapons. Instead, they were carrying what appeared to be some sort of meter-long, blistered, black and green egg-shaped objects with multiple holes on the front.

They only had another hundred meters to go, but they would not make it. Fedora apparently reached the same conclusion and turned to face them. “Run, Lady Adonia,” she yelled. “Don’t look back!”

Akantha never even considered it. She turned almost in unison with Fedora and spun the axe in her hands, taking a precious breath to ease the burning agony which had spread throughout her body. “I won’t leave any more of my people behind, Fedora Glaros!” she barked defiantly before squeezing the haft of her axe as tightly as she could. “And I will not die with my back to the enemy,” she spat with a sneer.

The demons continued to come, and they had only a few seconds to prepare themselves for the inevitable.

“I am proud to have fought at your side, Hold Mistress,” Fedora said breathlessly.

Akantha shook her head. “No, Fedora Glaros, it is I who am proud to have fought at yours,” she said grimly, “but I have failed both you and the Hold. No matter the price, I swear I will atone,” she swore, and she knew that her penance might have to wait until the next life, but she also knew that she would fulfill that vow no matter the cost.

The two smaller demons stopped their charge, and the larger ones split, with one going wide to the right and the other going wide to the left. The women focused on their respective pincer-bearing opponents and raised their weapons to make their final stand when a flash of light and a sickening, sucking sound came from the direction of the two smaller, delicate demons.

Akantha felt a tingling sensation in her side. She looked down to see a handful of needle-like objects the length of her hand protruding from her abdomen, having pierced between the sections of Stone Rhino armor which protected her. The tingling sensation spread quickly, and was followed immediately by a numbness which overtook every part of her body.

Falling to the ground was an odd experience without her sense of touch, and for a moment Akantha wondered if she had died. She found she was still able to move her eyes and even speak, and she screamed wordless, defiant curses at her enemies as they moved closer to where she lay helpless.

She was facing Fedora Glaros as she lay on the ground, who was shouting curses as well, having apparently also been afflicted with the same paralysis as Akantha. The rest of Fedora’ tattered undershirt had come off, and she was now naked from the waist up. The two pincer-armed demons gathered them up and carried them back toward the battlefield, where the great dragon loomed motionlessly above the ground just as before.

Her captor placed one of the strands of sticky silk-like material descending from the mouth of the dragon placed around her waist, and she realized with horror that this was no dragon; it was a sky boat, and they were being taken to wherever it is from which the Sky Demons had come.

Akantha could see that the massive, sausage-shaped section of the behemoth demon’s corpse had been connected to dozens of the sticky fibers which descended from the heart of the demon ship, and was being slowly raised into the belly of the vile ship from the gates of Hades itself.

Almost as soon as the sticky fiber attached to her waist began to retract, bringing her up and into the bowels of the Hell Ship, the foul poisons of the demon darts ran their course, and she lost consciousness.

Epilogue: A Legendary Rescue vs. Ungallant Behavior

Akantha regained consciousness to the panicked sounds of dozens of her fellow Argosians. She shook out the cobwebs and took stock of her situation.

They were located in a large chamber, presumably inside the demon’s sky boat. She found a large band of fleshy material which had brought her into the ship fixing her to the ‘wall’ of the vessel, though in truth the interior of this ship seemed to be much more alive than any building or water vessel had a right to be. The walls pulsated rhythmically, and everything was coated with what looked like a thin layer of mucous.

The only source of light was from various lines which coursed along the walls and ceiling. They looked for all the world like blood vessels, except they were filled with a sickly, green colored liquid which glowed brightly enough to make out the looks on the faces of her fellow prisoners.

Fedora Glaros was immediately to Akantha’s right, and she appeared to be unconscious, but she was beginning to stir.

Some of her people were strapped to the wall almost up to the ‘ceiling’ of the chamber, and she counted three dozen, all of whom appeared to be in good health and lacked serious combat wounds. The wounded were probably killed or left to die on the field, she thought to herself bitterly. It was another testament to just how badly she had failed her people, and it filled her with hot fury, but she was impotent to express it in any meaningful fashion.

“Hold Mistress,” she heard Fedora say groggily, and she turned to see the upturned face of her fellow prisoner.

“Yes, Fedora,” replied Akantha, “I am here.”

“What happened,” asked Fedora, who shook her head and blinked her eyes repeatedly, “I fear I lost consciousness not long after falling to the ground.”

“We were brought to this place,” Akantha explained, testing the strength of the band which kept her fixed to the wall. It was not completely unyielding, but she quickly realized that it would require an extremely sharp blade to cut through the material, which seemed to harden as it stretched. “I know not why, but only those of us without grave wounds are here,” she remarked bitterly.

“Would that I had a blade,” Fedora said fiercely. “I would cut my way to the heart of this foul monstrosity and let it taste my vengeance!”

Akantha nodded, and she was glad to hear the strength of her companion’s spirit evident in her voice. “We will find a way out of here, Fedora,” Akantha said confidently, although she had no reason to expect that to be true.

“I know we will, Hold Mistress,” agreed Fedora Glaros. “My children need me, and the Hold needs your leadership. If I fall, it will be on the soil of Argos, not in the belly of this abomination.”

Akantha looked around and saw that most of her people had already awoken, although some of the ones further from her position looked to still be unconscious.

“How long have we been here?” Akantha asked in a raised voice, hoping that not everyone had been unconscious the entire time.

“I pretended to be asleep,” came a voice, and Akantha looked to see the familiar face of one of the boys who had stood with the archers turned her way, “but I was awake the whole time. I even managed to keep a small knife, but it can’t cut through this thing,” he said, pointing at the band around his waist.

Akantha was once again humbled, this time by a boy no older than twelve years. “How long do you think we have been inside the ship then?” she repeated.

“Can’t have been more than an hour,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “After the big one stuck us on the walls, they all just left,” he explained and pointed to a circular, iris-shaped section of the far wall. “Soon after, it felt like I was being crushed for a few minutes, but it wasn’t by this strap,” he said with a nod to his waistband, “it was like I got real heavy, and for sure I would have fallen down without this thing to hold me up.”

At that moment, the iris-shaped section of the wall at the far end of the chamber contracted before opening, revealing an all-new monstrosity. This creature was not as large as the demon Akantha and Kratos had brought down with their combined fury, but it was far larger than any other ones she had seen.

Its body was segmented like the large one which Kratos and his men had called the Demon God, but the skin was far harder and a glossy black color, similar in appearance to the pincer-wielding demons. This particular monstrosity not only possessed a pair of larger, deadlier looking claws, but it also had a pair of smaller, delicate hand-like appendages like the weapon-wielding, wasp-shaped demons. Nearly its entire underbody was covered in legs similar to the ones on the bottom of the ‘Demon God’ they had defeated at the Stathis farm hold.

Akantha felt her apprehension at labeling that particular demon to be a god was justified in that exact moment; if she had seen a true Sky Demon God, it was undoubtedly this one. Its multifaceted eyes seemed to shine with a kind of horrible intelligence, and it entered the room with a degree of grace which should have been impossible for a creature of its bulk. It was nearly the height of a man with a girth to match, and its length was at least a foot greater than even Kratos’ height.

This newest demon moved quickly toward the Argosian nearest the entryway, which had constricted once again to form a ‘closed’ position. Once it was next to the man, it reached out with its delicate hand-like appendages and grabbed the man’s head in its ‘hands.’ The man was still unconscious, but he was quickly awakened to what was undoubtedly the most terrifying moment of his life.

The demon studied him momentarily before abruptly lashing out with its claws, killing the man almost instantly with massive wounds to his torso. The band around his waist retracted immediately, allowing his nearly bisected body to slump lifelessly to the floor.

The demon then began feeding on the corpse of her countryman, and Akantha found herself screaming furiously at the foul beast without realizing when she had begun to do so. The horror of the situation had overridden her senses, but not her fury, and she beckoned the monster to come to her next if it dared.

The beast ignored her screams, as well as the screams of her fellow captives as it devoured the corpse.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Akantha saw more movement at the portal to the chamber. At first she assumed it was opening, probably to allow more of these vile monsters into the room, which was probably some demon equivalent of a larder.

But it didn’t open. At least, not in any fashion for which it was designed. The feeding demon seemed not to notice, which was odd given its proximity, and Akantha stopped her furious screaming to focus on the door.

The portal shuddered and spasmed a few more times before she saw something push through. It appeared to be a hand! Not a true hand, but a gauntlet made of some kind of metal with which she was unfamiliar.

Another gauntleted hand soon forced its way through, and together they tore apart the multiple flaps which made up the living doorway. It was savage work, but in less than a minute a man made his way through the doorway, and a black sword with green crystalline deposits running along the blade, hung at his side. The sight of that sword sent Akantha’s heart into her throat; it could be none other but a Dark Sword of Power! Not only that, but this man’s gore-covered armor was composed of an unfamiliar metal, and the craftsmanship was as incredible as the sheer bulk of the armor. Akantha had never seen such a suit of armor, but she knew that any man who could fight in it must possess incredible strength.

Akantha’s mind momentarily entertained the fantasy that somehow Nikomedes had found his way into the demonic sky boat, and not only had he successfully reclaimed the Sword of King Lykurgos, but he had found a suit of strange armor to go with it! But when she saw the face of the man entering the room, she knew it was not Nikomedes, nor was it a man like any other she had seen.

Making out his facial features was difficult, because there was some sort of membrane surrounding his head, which formed a kind of bubble from the jaw line up. His skin was dark, far darker than any man Akantha had ever seen and his hair was pitch black. Not only was it black, but it was medium-length and stood at impossible angles, forming swirls and spikes. His eyes were slightly almond-shaped, and his nose was almost bereft of a bridge, being much broader and flatter than her countrymen’s. She had seen ancient stone carvings with similar features hidden in the Great Hall’s library, but never on an actual person.

This was clearly not a man of her lands, and as he stepped into the room, she saw that he was easily a head taller than the largest warriors she had seen. He quickly fixed his eyes on the monster which was halfway done with its ‘meal.’ The warrior took the sword from his hip, which Akantha realized didn’t have a sheath of any kind. He had simply pulled it away from his body like it was stuck there until he willed it to be released.

The Argosians shrieked warnings and pleas at the newcomer, but it was plain to see that his attention was rightly focused on the real danger. The demon turned its head to him, and it emitted a wailing, screaming, howling sound which ululated and shifted in pitch, which Akantha recognized as similar to the call the large demon had made at the Stathis farm hold when the Stone Rhino had approached. It moved toward the newcomer with that same eerie grace and balance.

The newcomer gripped his blade tightly in both hands, and in an incredibly quick, graceful move, stepped to the side while bringing his blade (which was much narrower and thinner than the Dark Swords of Power Akantha had heard described) across the middle of the beast’s front, scoring a deep gash.

But the demon’s quick reactions obviously surprised the warrior, as it shifted its momentum and drove its entire bulk into the warrior’s chest without breaking its momentum. The resulting collision drove their combined bulk into a nearby section of the writhing wall, and the sheer force of the impact should have instantly killed even the strongest of men wearing the finest armor.

The warrior barely managed to intercept one of the razor-sharp claws from decapitating him, and Akantha suddenly realized how odd it was for a man with such ornate and mighty armor to opt for that strange bubble instead of a proper, matching helmet. However, everything in this strange place was odd.

A mighty struggle ensued as the warrior tried desperately to bring his sword arm back into the fight. It had been pinned to the wall at the moment of impact, and the demon was simply too strong. That didn’t stop the newcomer from smashing his free fist repeatedly into the monster’s body to no apparent effect, reminding Akantha of her own impotent punches hours earlier. The struggle continued until the demon abruptly climbed the wall, taking the warrior with it.

It happened so quickly that the newcomer appeared unable to react, but while the demon was climbing the wall, the warrior managed to find an opening and deftly spun his sword with his wrist, slicing through several of the demon’s legs. Akantha was amazed at the strength of this man, who with no more than a flick of his wrist had cut through a handful of this latest Sky Demon’s legs.

The enraged demon, having never ceased its horrific wailing, paused momentarily increasing its volume at this latest insult. It managed to keep the man pinned against the wall the entire way up to the ceiling, where it began to dig around in the wall in a frantic fashion for a few seconds before Akantha realized that it was trapping this strange warrior with the same material that encircled the waists of every other human she could see in the room.

“It means to trap you!” she screamed, but she was sure that he would not be able to make her voice out over the shrieks and shouts of her fellow captives. Her heart sank as the lone agent of hope in this hellish prison was pinned to the ceiling.

She watched helplessly as the demon completed its task and leapt to the floor, leaving the strangely armored man trapped. The warrior seemed confused as he fixed his eyes on the strap of living material which pinned him to the ceiling, and he hesitated for some reason which was unclear to Akantha. Surely he can cut loose of his bonds with such a mighty weapon, she thought to herself.

“Use your Sword of Power,” Akantha yelled with excitement and desperation warring in her voice.

After a few agonizing seconds, the man appeared to form a plan. Positioning his feet awkwardly against the ceiling, he drew the blade across his body over the fleshy strap. Without warning, and in another nearly impossible display of speed and power, he cut the strand with a single slash across the band (which was fully twice the size of the band which imprisoned Akantha) and pushed off the ceiling, driving straight at the monster.

There was a great sucking sound as he broke free from the ceiling, and for one glorious moment it looked as though he would come down directly on top of the demon, his blade poised to land the final blow.

However, he fell short of his quarry, and was barely able to get his hand up in time to protect his helmet-less head before landing on the floor. Thankfully for him, the floor of the Hell Ship was much more forgiving than stone or even dirt, and he was able to roll to his feet quickly.

A chorus of warnings erupted from her countrymen, and Akantha heard Fedora’s voice among them. “Get up!” the now shirtless woman shrieked, “Kill the beast!”

Akantha felt almost as though she were part of a crowd witnessing an epic duel between gladiators, and the thrill of the moment combined with their dire circumstances had her heart racing.

The warrior’s fall had robbed him of the strange bubble which had surrounded his head, and Akantha saw the unmistakable look of disgust cross his face after he drew his first breath without it. The wailing sound the demon was emitting also clearly took him by surprise, as he winced visibly at its latest ululations.

The monster charged toward the warrior, who responded with a cry of his own and raised his blade to the side. At what Akantha considered to be well past the last possible instant, he stepped (or rather, leapt) across the monster’s path and severed many of the legs on the left side of its body in a single, powerful stroke. The demon’s momentum carried it into a nearby wall, where it narrowly avoided crushing a helpless Argosian. The sight of her people at the mercy of these creatures sent Akantha’s blood boiling, but she was just as helpless as they were for the time being.

The demon was clearly not pleased that one of its future meals had successfully defied it, and after regaining its posture, it moved more quickly than before and charged straight toward the newcomer. The warrior gripped his sword in both hands, pointing the blade away from his left hip. Akantha was certain he would react too slowly, but he once again displayed nearly impossible speed and power by sidestepping completely across the path of the oncoming monster, bringing his sword up in a mighty blow meant to decapitate the demon once and for all.

The demon, even more impossibly, appeared to have anticipated this and it shifted its weight at the exact same instant. For a sickening moment, Akantha was certain it would avoid the attack altogether and impale the warrior with its greedily clacking claws.

But the warrior was even wilier than the demon anticipated, and while the monster avoided having its head completely removed by the twisting blow, at least a third of its ‘skull’ above the eyes was taken off by the black sword. That sword had white letters of some kind running up and down the blade. Akantha had failed to notice them until that moment, likely due to the poor lighting in the chamber.

Still, the demon was massive, and its momentum caused the entirety of its bulk to slam directly into the warrior, driving him into the wall yet again. She thought she heard the newcomer say something, but there was no way to be sure. The demon’s pincers were moving rapidly and wildly. The warrior’s sword hand was pinned down by his side, both by the bulk of the demon’s body and by the creature’s hand-like appendage on that side.

The pincers continued their frenzied clacking, and the warrior swatted them away with his free hand when they came too close. He fought to extricate himself, but the monster was too massive. It was badly wounded, but the demon had not yet conceded the life and death struggle.

They fought for position for what seemed like an eternity, with the fate of Akantha’s people quite clearly in this strange warrior’s hands. If only I had a weapon! Akantha thought bitterly.

With a mighty shrug of his shoulders, the warrior managed to create enough range of motion for his free hand that he was able to plunge it into the open head of the demon. There was no finesse to the way he ground his hand inside the thing’s head; the warrior appeared to want his enemy to suffer, and suffer it did.

With a mighty spasm, the monster’s body twisted and convulsed, throwing the warrior across the room in the process. Clearly, the monster was in its death throes, and Akantha found savage satisfaction watching its final moments.

It writhed and jerked on the ground for over a minute before finally coming to a rest, and it was only then that Akantha could take proper stock of the damage this new warrior had inflicted on the abomination. It was frankly amazing that the creature had not died of shock much earlier, since nearly half of its legs were gone. A plethora of cracks ran along its carapace where the warrior had repeatedly smashed it with his gauntleted fist, not to mention the fact that it was missing nearly half of its head!

Akantha’s eyes narrowed as she thought how best to proceed. A warrior like this one, with this battle alone, had earned him dozens of ballads and inclusion into the legends of her people. He would not have undertaken such a great personal danger without expecting much in return, and Akantha knew exactly what he wanted.

There was only one thing on this ship that she suspected held enough value to warrant the attention of such an obviously accomplished warrior, and that was her. Or, more specifically, it was her title as Land Bride of Argos. Where this man had come from, and why she had never heard of him were questions to which she desperately wished she had the answer, but that would have to come later.

The warrior, who was still leaning up against the wall, looked at his fallen foe and slumped slightly. He closed his eyes and drooped his head forward. The gesture caused him to simultaneously groan and wince, as he brought his heavily gauntleted hand up to his neck.

The action unbalanced him, and he staggered away from the wall but did not fall, managing to find his feet after a few stumbling steps. There was something different about the way this man moved, and Akantha was certain that it had something to do with his obviously enchanted armor.

He looked up at her fellow captives, and some of them were pointing to his sword and gesturing for him to cut them loose, Fedora Glaros among them.

Akantha was not jealous of her neighbor, but to say that Fedora Glaros was well-endowed with feminine charms would be something of an understatement. Akantha had been assured during her history lessons that wars had been fought over less ample bosoms, and the warrior’s eyes naturally fell (and began feasting) on their garmentless splendor.

The warrior hastily looked away after an eye-widening second, and Akantha was surprised. A man of his accomplishments would have no problem availing of the affections of women, but it was almost as though he were embarrassed by the sight. Akantha’s eyes narrowed even further. This one is unpredictable, or is it merely a ploy? she thought to herself.

His eyes naturally came to his true quarry after looking away from Fedora’s naked torso, and he locked eyes momentarily with Akantha. He cocked his head slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, as if surprised by something he saw in her face, which only served to heighten her guard. She did her best to keep her face a cold, courtly mask of indifference.

After a few moments, the warrior moved toward the nearest Argosians, as if to cut their bonds. He had almost reached the first woman, when there was a sound from the ruined portal where he had entered the chamber.

The newcomer muttered something under his breath in a foreign language and turned to the door. Akantha was surprised to hear that his voice was higher than she expected. She reminded herself that a warrior is judged on his merits and accomplishments, not his appearance or physical traits, but it was surprising to hear such an impressive warrior speak in a voice which was usually only found among balladeers.

He ran back to the door, his steps covering almost as much ground as the fastest of the demons. No sooner had the warrior arrived at the portal than those green-colored, pincer-wielding demons did likewise.

The warrior’s reactions were incredible, and his blade lashed out so quickly that it was a blur, neatly slicing the first creature through its midsection. The strike unbalanced him momentarily, but he regained his footing and blocked the portal with his body and blade.

What followed was perhaps the most amazing display of combat Akantha had ever seen. Every strike crippled or killed a Sky Demon, and while his maneuvers were simple and uncomplicated, he fought fearlessly with preternatural speed and power. It was clear this man had not only trained extensively, but also had a natural aptitude for combat. It was not surprising to reach this conclusion, but Akantha marveled as he fearlessly sliced, stabbed, kicked and punched at the doorway, until the portal was effectively blocked by the bodies of his fallen enemies.

Not a single Sky Demon had made it into the chamber past his savage dance of death, and Akantha was certain that this man had already killed as many Sky Demons in ten minutes as her entire militia had managed at the Stathis farm hold.

The voices of her fellow captives were nearly silenced by the display, and Akantha could not help but also be awed. It was said that Hypatios Nykator had once held a gatehouse alone for an hour, killing a hundred men in the process. Akantha could not think of another living man who had accomplished such a feat against trained warriors, let alone against demons!

Akantha was almost certain that she saw a look of disdain on the newcomer’s face when the corpses blocked more demons from entering. Or was it despair she had seen on his face? She honestly could not tell, but she decided it must have been disdain at being dissatisfied with the challenge his foes had presented.

Persus had once said that figures of legend only served to make little boys feel inadequate. There was little doubt that tales of this warrior’s exploits in this place would do exactly that to even grown men, if anyone survived to tell of them.

Alarmingly, the demons began methodically pulling the bodies of their kin away from the doorway. Taking advantage of the lull, the warrior drew his breaths in a deep, measured rhythm. His chest piece did not move as she had expected it to do while he breathed. He was obviously tired, but there was also clearly more fight in him and he had a strange look on his face which Akantha could not read. Such a titanic effort should have drained a man of every last ounce of strength, but this warrior looked as if he were fit for hours of this effort.

The demons returned as soon as the doorway had been cleared, and he went back to his incredible display of swordsmanship immediately. This time, however, the pincer-wielding demons were accompanied by the smaller, wasp-like demons with the noisome weapons.

While the larger, green-colored demons occupied the warrior, the smaller ones climbed through the top edge of the doorway, their legs somehow allowing them to scurry on the ceiling as easily as the floor. The warrior’s quick reactions managed to bring his blade up and through the first demon to breech the top of the door, but two more quickly made their way past his reach. Akantha’s heart sank; it was now only a matter of time before he would be overwhelmed.

Still, he held his ground and managed to slaughter every approaching pincer-wielding demon, while also killing better than a third of the smaller ones as they made their way through the doorway.

In truth, Akantha doubted there was a better strategy. If he fell away from the door, the heavily armored ones would pour in and surround him. If he stood his ground, it was only a matter of time before the smaller ones would accomplish the same feat.

Without warning, one of the small ones dropped from the ceiling above the warrior, its weapon poised to strike at his naked head. “Above you!” Akantha yelled, but her countrymen had also shouted their own warnings and her voice was drowned out by the din.

The warrior’s unpredictable footwork took him out of the path of the falling demon, and he only seemed to notice it after it landed on the floor. The dark-skinned man unceremoniously stomped on its upper half with his massive metal boot, and Akantha felt a thrill at the cracking sound its death made.

The warrior looked down at his sword reproachfully, as though he were cross with the weapon for some reason. Akantha could not believe her eyes, but the moment passed and the dark-haired man barely had time to lurch sideways to avoid an incoming set of pincers, clearly intending to relieve him of his head.

He leapt away from the demon that had come so close to decapitating him. Then, inexplicably, the man struck a spear-thrower’s pose, pointing the tip of the blade almost directly at Akantha. Then perhaps the most surprising thing to happen since this man’s arrival occurred: he spoke, and Akantha could understand him.

“Here, take the cursed thing and cut yourself free,” he snarled in the Old Tongue (generally only used by Ladies and lawgivers) before hurling it, and when it landed it was stuck point-first in the floor between Akantha and Fedora. The black hilt rested temptingly against the wall, where she could reach it if she wanted. “There’s been nothing but trouble ever since I picked it up!”

Akantha was speechless. It was like something out of legend! This strange warrior had just offered to let her bear his sword, a Dark Sword of Power! Akantha would never forget his manipulation of events or cross nature, but she could forgive at least some of these shortcomings in light of his truly heroic efforts. She reached for the hilt and a cloud of emotion overtook her, as she felt like she was taking a step out of reality and into legend.

Then she remembered something he said just before throwing it. Cursed? Akantha wondered, and her hand hesitated, What in the name of Men did that mean?! None of the Dark Swords of Power were cursed, at least not that she had been taught.

Her eyes narrowed to slits as her blood boiled, and she retracted her hand. Not only does he give me little choice in accepting his offer, but he offers me a cursed sword!? she seethed silently.

She could not let this stand. Some things are worse than death, and curses were among them. She owed it not only to the Argosians with her in this place, but also those still in Argos not to become Sword Bearer of a weapon which might bring with it great calamity, as cursed weapons were known to do. Better to lay down their lives here and now, than to subject their families and fellows to whatever evil ravages awaited them should she accept a cursed blade.

It was said that a blade from the east, whose name shall never again be uttered by unanimous decree of the Hold Mistresses, brought with it seven years of calamity including early winters, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes which toppled even the greatest ramparts. Plagues of insects devoured all crops, and disease claimed half of those living in the Hold of the Mistress who had accepted the foul blade. Akantha was certain that even Leonora’s advice to do the best one can with what is available would not have extended to willingly bringing a curse into the heart of Argos!

This man would explain himself, and he would do so before Akantha decided whether or not to bear his sword, and in so doing accept him as her Protector. She owed it to her people.

The story continues in Chapter Twenty Five, Book One of The Spineward Sectors Novels: Admiral Who?