As I ran, I hardened even further than I had before. I pushed through tall grass and broke out into a clear area on the edge of a small lake. Pebbles crunched under my feet.
How long had I kept moving through the woods? An hour?
If I kept running, the Paikans with torches would exhaust me, then easily capture me.
So I crouched low by the grass’s boundary, axe readied, to make my stand.
The first man broke from the grass, his torch held high in one hand, spear in another. His spiked helmet glinted in the torchlight, as did the rest of the armor buckled to him.
I slammed the axe point first, as if it were a spear, into the face of the helmet as it turned, suddenly suspicious, in my direction.
Blood splattered the shaft of the axe, and the torch and spear clattered to the pebbles. I stepped back as the other two Paikans slowly parted the grasses on either side of me.
They looked down at their dead comrade, and kept their distance, but moved along the grass boundary to cut me off from running away. They tossed their torches down to the pebbles and gripped their spears in both hands. “You’re a woman,” the one to my left said, surprise in his voice. “Why do you face us?”
I backed up, my feet wetted now by the shallow water, trying to face both of them. “Because you attacked. Drop your spears and leave me be,” I said.
“You killed Massiaka there,” the man said, faceless behind his mask of protective bronze. “We will not turn back now.”
These were Paikans, practiced and deadly, in full armor. They were not the ragged rebels I’d bested this morning, which now seemed an eternity ago. These men wore armor and their spears gave them reach.
I’d killed their friend by surprise. They, on the other hand, would not die quickly.
I looked for some way to get out of this fight. “I was in the caravan. I did not ask to be attacked.”
“It is too late,” the Paikan on the right said.
My fingers loosened on the axe, getting ready for either man to attack me. The Paikans raised their spears, both of them out of reach of my axe, and they got ready to thrust them at me. But just as they stepped forward, crossbow bolts ripped out of the grass and smacked through their armor.
With grunts, they dropped to the pebble beach, armor crashing against the stone, spears clattering with them.
Five crossbowmen stepped out onto the pebbles. One of them was a short man with sweaty, raggedy hair limp over his forehead, dressed in a green robe. He slung the large wooden crossbow over his shoulder. “You are a brave woman, facing two Paikans on your own,” he said with a laugh. “You may thank us for the favor we did you later.”
I stared at the corpses.
“Three,” I said to the man. I pointed to the dead one almost at his feet, and he pushed a torch in the body’s direction to examine it.
“Well, well, well,” he said.
“And you did me no damn favor,” I continued. I didn’t like the sound of ‘thank me later.’ I wanted to make sure they would think a little further before making assumptions about me. “The caravan still burns, the Paikans still ravage the land as they please. Nothing is changed.”
The man looked thoughtful. “So you are from the caravan?”
“Yes.” I still stood apart from them, hoping that they would move on without me. I had it in my head that I would start walking west in the hopes of getting to Paika, somehow.
Though, as Jal had said, it was hard to get into the city. Without the caravaner’s help, I wasn’t sure how I would do it, but I would have to think of something.
The man in the green robes looked back at me, then gestured at the bloodied axe. “There is more than one man’s blood on there.”
“More than one man attacked me back at the caravan.”
He looked thoughtful. “Did you see how many war elephants charged?”
“I saw at least twelve from the Roadmaster’s wagon,” I said.
“Twelve!” said one of the other men. “I told you, we were sold bad information. They will rip through us like paper.”
The green-robed man looked down at the stones. “We will need to recruit more men.” His voice sounded bitter as he turned and looked out into the trees. “We will not try to take Paika this year, then.”
“You’re Jiva,” I realized.
“I am Jiva,” the man said. “My commanders here were about to go and scout the Paikan forces out there with our own eyes. We were hoping to avoid clashing with it until closer to Paika, but it seems they know we’re out here.”
One of the men behind Jiva spoke up. “What she says about the elephants is the same the other caravaners who escaped into the woods say. It’s not worth the risk.”
Jiva looked annoyed. “I know. I know. We’ll return to camp.”
“You have other caravaners at your camp?” I asked.
“A few survivors our scouts started finding in the woods,” Jiva said. “That is what prompted us to come take a look.”
I stared at him for a while, thinking about how to get to Paika. About the elephants. About what it would take to regain my children. Then I spoke without thinking. “If you are not going to use your army anytime soon, would you mind if I borrowed it to do what you wish to wait on?” I asked.
Jiva’s commanders spluttered with laughter. But Jiva did not. His dark eyes narrowed, and anger surfaced. “Who are you to mock me?”
I rested my axe over my shoulder, hanging my arm over the shaft to balance it. “I am the Executioness.”
One of the commanders stopped laughing. “You do exist!” he said.
Jiva glanced at him. “What idiocy are you talking about?”
“The refugees who came to us several weeks ago talk about an axe woman who faced forty Paikans on her own, defending Lesser Khaim from the Culling, until she fell from a sleeping spell they cast on her.”
“Paikans don’t use magic,” Jiva said. “And if she is really the Executioness, she wasn’t exactly killing them by the gross here, was she?”
I cleared my throat. “You interrupted me.”
“Come with us and go back to your home, like the rest of us,” Jiva said. “We will give you some water and food, what we can spare. The Alacaners will be excited to see you. Be glad you live.”
“I am not glad I live,” I shouted at him. “I do not share your cowardice! The Paikans stole my family from me. They burned my home to the ground. I have nothing left. Nothing but the hope of getting to Paika.”
Jiva glowered. “I am here for the same reason. To fight back against the cullings. They took a daughter of mine, and I want my vengeance. But to call me a coward, well, it seems that you are eager to get yourself killed tonight.”
“And you aren’t?” I looked at the commanders around him. “The Paikans are looking for you, aren’t they? My caravan was not the thing they came to destroy, was it? We were just a bonus. If you break apart to hide, it will be easier for them to take their time and seek out your parts.”
Jiva’s commanders looked at each other. “She is right. Once we split up, they can take their time to hunt us down one by one, like dogs.”
“We have little in the way of supplies,” Jiva said. “And, judging by the force that attacked your caravan, which is two hundred or so strong, with twelve war elephants you say, we are outmanned. Fighting men are in short supply throughout the lands, thanks to the culling. We don’t have many horses for cavalry. The fight is over.”
I shook my head. “The fight isn’t over, you are just not able to see how best to bring it to them.”
“You think you are a better commander than me?”
“No,” I said. “I know nothing about armies or supply trains. But I do see the things that men do not.”
Jiva, at first furious, now snapped his fingers. “Then, tell me what you see that I do not, woman, and I’ll judge your words.”
I had caught him, like a fish, and had his interest. “You think about their numbers, and whether you can compare yours to theirs, like two boys seeing who can piss the furthest.”