“I could have been your queen,” Cyndar whispered, her full mouth less than an inch from his. Her breath was sweet and mingled with the faint smell of her sweat and the more powerful smell of cherry blossoms. “We would have been oh so good together. You need a whole woman, one worthy of your love.”
Again Gwaynn did not answer. de Baard strained against him until the tip of her right kali turned and pointed toward the base of his neck. She pushed with all her strength and it slowly began to advance. Gwaynn’s arm trembled and he feared his strength would be completely gone in moments.
“What a queen I would have made,” she added with a smile, her eyes glinting with pleasure as she pressed her lower body seductively into his. She bumped her hips softly against his as her kali moved ever closer.
“I know you want me still,” she whispered passionately, the voice of a lover in bed. “I can feel your need. A cock never lies,” she added sweetly and moved her leg between his and smiled. The point of her kali was now pressing into the base of his neck and Gwaynn felt a prick of pain.
Cyndar smiled beautifully. They both knew it was over and that he could hold her off no longer, but for a moment she hesitated.
“Tell me you love me or die,” Cyndar whispered, but before he could answer she grunted and her eyes flew open wide in shock.
“Get off my man…bitch!” Samantha whispered, her mouth pressed close to de Baard’s right ear, her one hand holding tightly to the hilt of the needle knife that was now buried deeply between the Executioner’s shoulder blades.
Gwaynn felt Cyndar stiffen as her eyes shifted to his, holding him locked in their gaze. They fluttered once, but before the light was completely gone, Samantha leaned in closer.
“Even with one hand, I’ll cut your head off as I did Navarra’s,” she promised then de Baard slumped and died, falling gracefully to the floor at their feet. Gwaynn sagged and would have fallen on top of the Executioner, but Samantha moved forward and supported him, holding him up and kissing him hard on the mouth.
“I love you,” he whispered and allowed her to pull him to the bed.
“I love you too,” she answered, “but what in the hell kept you?”
They smiled, kissed again and then slumped back onto the bed together, both exhausted. But later that same night, while Gwaynn slept oblivious to the world, Samantha pulled de Baard’s lifeless body downstairs and outside. The night air was still and quiet; the moon had set long ago. As the town of Colchester slept peacefully, Samantha kept her promise and under the black sky of deep night she removed the head of the Executioner Cyn de Baard.
XIII
Captain Fatima Wicks stood at the bow of the Universe, the flag ship of the Toranado navy, and watched as the gulls swooped low over the waves, hoping to catch some unsuspecting meal stirred up by the passing of the great trireme.
She wore her captain’s uniform, though technically she was now in overall command of the entire navy, and therefore held the rank of admiral. She’d not officially been awarded the position, so like any career military person; she refused to wear the insignia due to her. And frankly she could have cared less at the moment. What she wanted was revenge, not ribbons. The defeat of the Toranado at Eno was a scar of embarrassment for all who served in the greatest navy of the Inland Sea, and for Wicks it was a wound that throbbed painfully. It did not help matters that what few ships she had left under her command were regulated to guarding the harbor at Cape. Sailing safely about a waterfront did nothing to assuage her pain. What she needed, what all Toranado sailors needed at the moment, was to strike back. As the land war continued to rage, the battle at sea had diminished to nothing but endless patrols about the harbor, protecting the city of Cape from any invasion force that might come from across the water. As the weeks past and no enemy fleet came, Wicks was tempted to gather her ships and head out into the Inland Sea in search of someone to attack, someone to destroy.
However, Captain Wicks was a professional and would not jeopardize the strength of the remaining navy without expressed instructions. But with the harbor at Cape no longer under direct threat she’d begun to scout farther and farther out into the Inland Sea…reconnaissance in force.
At the moment she led a group of six heavy triremes and another ten smaller, galley class ships. She didn’t really expect to find any enemy lurking about; activity in recent days had fallen off drastically, undoubtedly most of the Palmerrio warships were now guarding the harbor at Eno, consolidating their victory.
Captain Wicks bristled at the thought and promised herself that one day she would sail boldly back into her home harbor and reclaim it.
Now however, was not the time, but if Prince Phillip finally managed to defeat the Palmerrio army on land…the time would come…and soon.
Captain Wicks smiled to herself.
“Ho!” Came a shout to her left. She turned and immediately spotted a group of ships approaching from the northeast, apparently moving parallel along the Massi shoreline. The ships and shore were still over a mile to the east, and from the distance their strength was impossible to determine, but the Captain did not hesitate.
“Set a new course…due east,” she shouted and couldn’t help notice the sound of glee in her own voice. “Let’s cut them off and see just who they are.”
A great roar of approval sounded throughout the ship and Wicks heard answering cheers from the neighboring ships as the signal flags were raised, spreading the message along.
“Full oars!” Wicks ordered and almost at once the speed of the ship increased noticeably…the men were anxious to fight and that suited the Captain just fine.
She fingered the hilt of her kali as the ships in the distance grew closer and it wasn’t long before she could make out over a dozen heavy triremes in formation and nearly twice that in support craft.
Wicks’ heart hammered in her chest.
“Captain…we are outnumbered,” whispered first mate Armitage as he moved to her side. He was an enormous man, just passed his prime, with beefy arms and broad shoulders. His face was lined with creases and tanned brown from the sun. He was a hard, professional sailor, who knew the sea, his ship and his men well, but he was also exceptionally loyal to his commander. In his mind, Captain Wicks’ fast thinking had saved them from disaster several times at the battle of Eno. He was quite sure that without her leadership he would now be resting on the bottom of the Eno harbor just off the coast of Toranado like so many of his friends who had the distinct misfortune of serving on other ships…with less talented commanders.
“Yes, I am aware of that,” Wicks answered tersely then glanced over and gave a slight wink to Armitage.
“Well just move in a little closer for a look,” she added and together they watched as the ships in the distance finally spotted their approach and turned off their course to intercept them.
As they moved closer to shore, they spotted more ships in the distance, sailing just behind the initial group. Captain Wicks felt her heart drop. If these ships were under the command of the High King then the Massi coast was lost and she would be hard pressed to defend the harbor at Cape. They may even have to abandon their position and make a run for it out to sea, if so Phillip would have to be warned.
“Cassinni!” Shouted Raskin, a young sailor with very sharp eyes.
“Are you sure?” Wicks asked.
The young man nodded. He was their prime lookout and the pride of the ship. No one had better eyes in Captain Wicks’ estimation. It was an opinion all on the Universe shared.