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“I think you broke the last piece of me,” I told Anezka.

“You and I were already broken,” she said, and then she led me deeper into the camp, her arm still holding mine.

The sun was orange and fat over the plains in its midmorning bloat when the Paikans burst from their clanking gates. War elephants roared, the sound racing out across the fields to us as we formed up.

“He should hold behind his walls,” Anezka said as twenty elephants moved out onto the field, followed by a hundred Paikans on horseback. Four hundred soldiers followed the riders, each in a square group of fifty, those long spears bristling like ship’s masts from each person. We could see lines of archers up on the walls, tiny faces looking back at us. “It would take us a year to breach them.”

“Ixilon knows he will eventually need to fight,” I told her. “That’s what Jiva says. Better to do it upfront when the men are healthy and not starving, when they still believe they are invincible and eager, instead of demoralized.”

We stood on foot in a cluster of eight hundred women in the field, the ones who were all armed with both arquebuses and axes. “He still thinks one of his men is better than four of us,” Anezka noted, looking at the numbers.

Two thousand total armed women had come to the field. Those not in my square of eight hundred with arquebuses carried just simple axes. Jiva’s men were on their horses and ready to break for the gates from the side, preventing Ixilon from retreating back into the city.

“We’ll soon find out,” I said to Anezka. “I’m just grateful he’s keeping his archers on the walls where they can’t reach us just yet.”

The ground shook as the war elephants began their charge. I turned back around to look at my own army. They shifted, nervous at the sight of the armored elephants thundering toward them.

Someone raised an arquebus, and Anezka spotted the movement and screamed, “keep your weapons pointed down, do not fire until the order flags go up!”

But I understood the impulse.

There were five lines of women, our most untrained recruits, that we stood with. It was quickest to teach them how to aim and shoot the arquebus. They had all been the last to join.

And breaking the Paikans depended on them more than the axe fighters.

The elephants loomed larger, their armor clanking, the ground shaking. Paikans followed behind, the charge moving quicker as they closed.

I could see the closest elephant’s eyes now. The wrinkles in its long trunk that slapped back and forth as it ran.

The order flags whipped into the air, something Anezka had copied from the caravan to simplify ordering our untrained army around, and the first row of a hundred women raised their arquebuses. The entire row of newly hammered metal tubes gleamed. Slow burning fuses sparked down the line as they were lit.

The second row, the moment the first row raised, also began preparing to fire.

An elephant screamed rage, and in answer, the first line of arquebuses answered. The thunder of fire matched the earthquake of giant’s hooves. Smoke rose and filled, and then came the second line of thunder.

Shrieks of inhuman pain pierced the smoke, and the first of the elephants stumbled through the powder haze, crashing into the first line and tumbling to the ground. Then another stumbled through.

Women dropped their arquebuses, and though untrained with their axes, fell upon the elephants like they were firewood, hacking both their riders and the beasts as they writhed and screamed on the ground.

“We told them to leave the elephants once they fell,” I snapped, frustrated.

“They’re caught up in it all,” Anezka said. “There are lines behind them. It is not a problem yet.”

Some were reloading though, even as the square formations of Paikans bristling long spears came quickly through the curtain of smoke. But they were expecting to find us scattered.

Instead, they met three more rows of thunder, and then scattered pops from those in the remains of the first and second lines who had managed to reload their arquebuses.

Paikans stumbled and fell, and the impenetrable wall of spears faltered.

The axe women came from deep behind the lines and ran at the corners of the Paikan formations. They hit the spears in a bloody mangle of bodies and blades. The squares deformed, split down their centers as the fighting degenerated into one-on-one combat.

I still stood in the second line, no more than a hundred feet away from the stalled spearmen and fighting. A wounded elephant groaned just fifty feet off to my right, a large grey hill that prevented me from seeing Paika.

I moved forward with Anezka, bringing my arquebus up once to sight on a raider that charged us and firing.

He dropped, and we stepped over him to climb the dying elephant and gain a better view of the hell that we had helped design.

The clumped Paikans were slowly being overwhelmed all around me, but the well-armored soldiers on horses still milled about the gates of Paika.

I raised my axe into the air and pointed at Paika, and saw the faces of hundreds of women finish reloading their guns to look at me.

“Paika!” I screamed and waved the axe. We had stalled their spears, broken them apart, now I wanted us to run through the open field and into the city. “Paika!”

“Paika!” they screamed back.

As I crawled down from the elephant I could hear the sound of Jiva’s horsemen moving now, moving full tilt towards the raider horsemen.

They galloped ahead of us, their way clear, and we ran after them.

Horse crashed into horse and the screams of the dying began. With the horsemen countered, the horde behind me swept through the Paikans as a rain of whispering arrows struck the ground all around us.

Then we poured into the city itself, arquebuses firing. We threw the long, ungainly weapons aside for axes as we met archers, and a few Paikan soldiers who had been left inside. And my words to Ixilon came true, as the axe-wielding women threw themselves with grim revenge against any armed Paikan they encountered.

I ran up the streets, gasping for breath and dizzy from exertion, almost ready to pass out by the time we reached the last battlements.

Anezka had run up the hills well ahead of me.

“They never even had time to close the gate,” she said.

“Then we’ve won!” I hadn’t even bloodied my axe, and it was over. We had torn the Paikans down. “We’ve done it.”

From up here, as I looked around, I could see smoke beginning to billow up from the city. And the field was empty of living soldiers. Only the dead and injured, lying in the mud made by our feet, lay out there like small dolls or figures in a painting regarded from a distance.

When I looked back at Anezka I did not see the same happiness. “There’s something you should see,” she said.

She took me into that turret I’d been in the day before, and my mouth dried even before the door opened and I looked inside.

An ashen-faced Ixilon looked back up at me, then quickly down at the table he sat at, his wrists bound with rope. Behind him, Jal slumped, a long spear run through the whole of his chest stuck out of both sides of the man.

“You killed him anyway?” I asked.

Ixilon licked his lips, and did not look up at me. “A guard, not me.”

A badly beaten guard in the corner of the room croaked, “Payback, for the whore who dared take the city.”

The fury that lived inside me exploded. I grabbed my axe and crossed to where Ixilon lay with his head in his hands, and swung the axe deep, easily, and precisely toward the back of his neck.

I swerved at the last second, and buried it into the wood of the table just short of his ear.

“You failed,” I told Ixilon. “You failed as a man to keep just a simple promise to me, and you failed in your attempt to foist your Way upon this land: there will be no more cullings now. And the land will be better for it.”