“You just keep those thoughts to yourself,” Brandt said taking a step in close to Lacombe, who had to crane his neck to look up at the big man. “She’s mine,” he added with a wide smile of pride.
Lacombe nodded. “She’s very good,” he answered.
Brandt chuckled. “You’ve no idea.”
‘She’s also very dead,’ Lacombe thought and followed Brandt to his very first day of training.
ǂ
The sound of the breakwater carried clearly through the darkness and though he could not see it, the Captain knew they were close to land, very close. Captain Hothgaard stood at the bow, silently impressed with Admiral Blakely’s seamanship. The Palmerrio officer insisted on lingering north of Heron until near sunset and then in the dark he navigated deep down the Massi peninsula. According to the Admiral’s estimate they were now positioned some twenty miles to the south of Drake and Hothgaard found he completely trusted the Admiral’s judgment.
“We’ll beach just as the sun rises,” Blakely said from directly behind the Captain. Hothgaard turned. The Palmerrio Admiral was a short, thin man with a full dark beard; on a whole he was unremarkable except for his deep, rumbling voice. “Should we land the Knights first?”
“No,” Hothgaard replied without hesitation. “The horses will be too slow. We’ll land the support infantry and the archers first. They’ll secure the beach head.”
Blakely paused, clearly questioning the decision but in the end he just nodded and set off to carry out the orders.
Hothgaard could understand why he would question the choice. They had precious few foot soldiers. The bulk of the Palmerrio and Rhondono armies were still in Toranado. Even now several thousand Rhondono troops should be moving into the Gap, a feint designed to keep the Massi busy as the bulk of the army dashed north to the Passage of Aleria. In conjunction with the invasion from the south, the Deutzani would cross the border and attack the town of Lynndon. The Temple Knights would occupy the plains and cut Cape off from Manse and threaten the eastern end of the Gap. They would only move against Manse if it became absolutely necessary. The Knights main objective was to cut the growing city off from the plains and the finger. If the Palmerrio prevailed on the Plateau, well then they could just starve the Massi out of their hole. It was a bold, aggressive plan, designed to put maximum pressure on the Massi and the city of Manse, but it left the Knights in a tenuous position during their landing, where they would be very vulnerable to attack. Of course the chance that the Massi had any sizable force anywhere near the landing site would be slim, but as the High Captain of the Temple Knights it was Hothgaard’s job to worry of such things.
Four hours later with the sun rising high in the sky and with the bulk of his Temple Knights off loaded, Hothgaard’s worries, for the most part, came to an end.
“Signal fires,” Captain Tramm said riding over to where Hothgaard mulled over maps of the country. He was sitting comfortably outside his temporary command tent that was erected just off the beach.
Hothgaard frowned. “Where?”
“The closest fire is not a mile to the west with another perhaps three to the south,” Tramm explained. “From what we can gather the fires move off toward Cape in one direction and Solarii in the other.”
Hothgaard smiled. “Well then…the Massi know we’re here.”
“Should we accelerate preparations for the march on Cape?”
Hothgaard shook his head. “No, everything stays on plan. We want the Massi to attack. We want to lure them from their hole.”
“Very well,” Tramm answered. “We’ll be prepared to leave the beach in two hours.”
Captain Hothgaard nodded and when Tramm took his leave he turned to Admiral Blakely.
“When we depart you may make your run on the Toranado fleet at Cape,” the Captain said. “Three days…you must lure them away on the morning of the third day. With the fleet gone, Cape will be vulnerable.”
ǂ
It was time. She’d waited long enough and tonight, finally was the night of action. de Baard feigned sleep, lying very still, and waited impatiently for Brandt to fall asleep, though he was snoring almost as soon as he rolled off of her. He would die next. She would love to slit his throat now, while he slept, but she doubted her ability to heave his large body out the window as she’d done with Afton Sath. In the end she just dressed quietly, strapped her kali to her waist and slipped out into the night.
As she moved down the stairs of the mill, de Baard was surprised by the lightness of her mood and it took her a few moments to realize why her heart was floating. She was happy, for too long she’d been delayed by weak indecision. Tonight the red haired bitch would die! And after the whore was finally dead if Gwaynn did not come to her for comfort, then he would die as well, escape or no. After all she was an Executioner and she’d allowed love to cloud her mind and body for far too long. Tonight she was happy because at last she was finally free of that most tyrannical and destructive emotion. She was a slave to love no longer.
The night was perfect; a cool breeze was coming down the mountains to the far west. Summer was coming to an end. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, as if smiling down from above, and in her happiness de Baard felt a strange desire to throw out her arms and laugh, somehow however, she restrained herself. It was well she did, because before she was even a hundred yards from the mill she spotted a dark figure moving her way. She thought nothing of it. Men were always in and out of the mill at all hours of the night, preparing round the clock for the coming confrontation, but she was glad she refrained from putting her happiness on display for all to see. She walked past but kept a close eye on the man as he went by. He nodded, but she did not recognize him and frowned. Once he was by she caught a whisper of sound so quiet it was nearly lost in the creaking of the water wheels at her back. But she heard it nevertheless, the distinctive hiss of kali sliding from their wood and leather scabbards. Instinctively she dove forward. She moved incredibly fast but even still she felt a knick on her right shoulder blade as the sword sliced through her cape and the first few layers of her skin. By the time she rolled to her feet her own kali were out, which was a fortunate thing because the man continued attacking with skill, speed and tenacity. He said nothing, just waded in and it took everything she had to parry the endless rain of blows pouring her way.
They fought silently for several long minutes; de Baard was astounded by the skill of the man before her. He kept her so off balance by his aggressive, relentless style that she rarely got the opportunity to shift to the attack. She was on the defense from the very first and became slightly dismayed when the situation showed no sign of reversing itself. It did not seem possible and it didn’t take long for de Baard to realize this was no ordinary soldier…he had to be a Tar of Noble.
For his part, Lacombe was equally impressed with the exceptional skill of the woman he was trying so very hard to kill. He was having difficulty believing that anyone could have survived against the onslaught of slashing blades, especially in near darkness. He now understood Nacht’s words of warning, and while it seemed incredible that one so young could have progressed so far, what truly amazed him was de Baard’s strength. Her blows were ringing against his, sapping his speed and draining his stamina. He’d never faced anyone who met him with such powerful counter blows and this from a woman! He was beginning to fear that the fight would continue for so long that other Massi would be drawn to the sounds of the clashing blades and his was silently thankful for the noise of the mill behind him. But as a quick slash from de Baard whistled just past his nose, Lacombe decided it was time to force the issue and end this one way or another.