Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala (39 page)

“Ouch,” Baran grinned as Captain Tessier laughed out loud.

It was quickly apparent that the Diruthian forces were not going to leave; Prince Cieren insisting that they were doing nothing wrong, merely meeting with his new brother-in-law Prince Mikhail for discussion and a little hunting. Most of the men noticed how his gaze kept sliding onto the princess, whose own focus was raking across the Diruthian ranks, looking for pattern or clues to their formations. Misha kept his eyes on Jai-Nimh, refusing to acknowledge Jenevra or Ki-Nimh.

“You are on neither Abaleine nor Diruthian ground. You have one hour,” Raik said finally. “If your troops are not leaving at that time, I will have to consider it a declaration of hostile intent. At that point we will attack.”

“Well you wait your hour, Commander,” Cieren spat, dismissively. “But I will go nowhere at the behest of a lesser man. We will meet you.” He swung his horse around and headed back towards the Diruthian lines.

Jai-Nimh looked at them all, a harmless looking elderly man with mild eyes and a gentle smile. “Ah, the headstrong inexperience of youth,” he said softly. “Still, he is a prince, and not to be gainsaid. One hour then. Ki-Nimh, Nimh’a,” he inclined his head towards his former colleagues.

“Jaiyen,” Ki-Nimh greeted him, without the honorific Nimh; the title he had given up all right to through his actions on the Island. “Mikhail.” He let the prince know that he too had given up his right to be considered part of the Order.

Misha met Ki-Nimh’s accusing gaze. “Let’s leave, Jai-Nimh. I don’t see the point in spending time debating with traitors and murderers.”

Only Tessier’s quick action in pulling his horse in front of Jenevra’s stopped her heading straight for Misha at that. Facing her, his hand clamped down hard on her arm even as she reached for a knife. “He’s not worth it, princess. Let it go.” There wasn’t even a hint of his usual mockery on his face.

“Ah, the leering Captain,” Misha sneered. “I might have known. Well, you’re not the first man she’s thrown her honor to; but I expect you already know that.”

“Make your peace with whatever gods you think will still listen to you Mikhail because you’ll be meeting them today.” Jenevra’s eyes were blazing, but her voice was controlled. “No-one makes that accusation and lives.”



“That was deliberate, wasn’t it?” Raik asked Kian quietly as they rode back to their own lines.

“Mikhail’s allegation against Jenna? Oh, yes, totally deliberate. He knows she’ll go after him now … as if last night didn’t seal it!” Kian looked grim.

“Did Jenn see it for what it was, do you think?”

Kian shook his head. “I’m not sure. Last night she was still prepared to defend him, you saw that for yourself; but I noticed she’s put red bands on her wrists this morning.” At Raik’s questioning glance he clarified, “Essentially it means she’s committed to a death and if it doesn’t happen she’ll take her own life. Misha publicly accused her of the three worst crimes you can commit in the Order. She’ll be seriously after his blood now: all three merit execution. One way or another, one of them will be dead by the end of the week … and I’ve never seen the Nimh’a fail yet.” He looked at Raik, a troubled expression entering his steel-gray eyes. “It’s what killing him will do to her that really worries me.”

The next hour was spent reforming battle plans and ensuring they were communicated to all line officers. The senior Captains and Commanders remained in a tight group in the center. Jenevra’s mission with the Flight was simple; to hold the left flank and, if at all possible, retrieve the talisman. If it was still around Misha’s neck, then they would need to bring the prince out too.

Blaise Tessier was on his fifth “What if …” when Raik ran out of patience. “Captain Tessier, you can stand there till darkness falls asking me the same thing over and over again, but rest assured that nothing … I repeat, nothing that you say will convince me to pull Captain Couressime off the line. She knows who we’re up against. She knows how to fight. She knows what she’s doing. And if,
if
anything should happen, it will be my head the Emperor will be after—not to mention his mother! If I can cope with that, then so can you! Do I make myself clear?”

Tessier shut his mouth; glaring balefully at Jenevra, who was watching him with one eye while whispering something into Mikyle Manvi’s ear that made him blush.

The battle, such as it was, was short, sharp and decisive. The Imperial troops washed over the combined forces of Diruthia and Abalos-Colles like waves over sand. Princes Cieren and Mikhail, to Jenevra’s intense fury, remained at the back of their troops, not involving themselves in the combat; preferring to leave the dying to others. From her horse she could see Misha watching her, and pushed forward to make her way across the battlefield towards him, swords swinging easily in her hands, cutting down those who stood between her and her target as easily as lopping heads off dead roses. Her anger became almost incandescent as Blaise Tessier pulled across in front of her. “What’re you doing?” She screamed at him furiously. “Get out of my way! I have to get that talisman.”

“Stay with your Flight, Captain!” Tessier bellowed, trying to keep his horse from wheeling around. “Your position is over here, protecting this flank. You stay there!” He shot her an equally angry look. “I don’t have time to babysit. This is a battlefield, princess; not your own personal playground. If you want to be in an army, you’d better start acting like it!”

Rejoining the Flight, although irate, she noted that most were doing well. Solid training had given all of them enough skills to at least go up against this half trained bunch of recent conscripts on this side of the Diruthian force. Finn Corrigan and one of the newer men, Danya, were keeping most of the Flight covered from the edge of the fighting; arrows picking off several attacking soldiers just before they could attack behind Shadow Flight men. Simon was cutting a wide track through the opposition with his sword; Spider and D’Agostino on either side of him.

Captain Manvi’s men were having a tougher time against the regulars of the Diruthian army, but the greater numbers of Imperial troops were paying off. Before long, Cieren was calling the Diruthian host into retreat. As they slowly pulled back across the valley, another fight became apparent. On the far right of the field Ki-Nimh was locked in combat with Jai-Nimh; a space open around them as they dueled one on one.

Ordering the Flight to return to their original places on the hillside, Jenevra moved a little way up along the field, heading towards her mentor: turning back frustrated at the sight of Captain Tessier gesticulating angrily at her. Returning a most unladylike gesture at him, she cantered back to the Flight, muttering under her breath and looking to see that everyone was safe. With the exception of a few minor cuts and grazes, most of the Flight was untouched, much to her relief. But, as she looked around, she realized that several faces were missing. “Where’re the twins? Bernardo?” She slipped down off her horse, striding over to Finn and Danya. “Did you see where they went from up here?”

“Logan was hurt,” Finn supplied. “Pretty badly from what I could see. Bernardo and Gavin took him to the healer’s tent.”

“Is everyone else alright?” she asked the Flight in general. Most of them were leaning over their swords, or flopped down on the ground; a few looked excited, their adrenalin still rushing. “Get back to camp together. Clean the weapons and yourselves before you do anything else. Any wounds need to be taken care of properly. Baudoin, you’re in charge until Brogan gets back. Sergeant Brogan, you’re with me.” She paused next to her horse and turned back to them all, a satisfied smile beginning to break through. “Nice work out there, gentlemen. Our first outing and only one hurt. I think that deserves a celebration tonight. At least they won’t be able to dismiss this Flight anymore!” Swinging up onto her horse again, she cantered towards the center of the camp with Brogan riding beside her.

Pausing briefly at her tent to wash off the worst of the blood and gore she’d accumulated during the battle, the princess left her swords and headed to the Healer’s tent.

The healers were busy, but not with too many serious or fatal cases that she could see. Jenevra moved quietly through them, spotting Bernardo’s tall form with short, bushy, dark hair kneeling next to Gavin Logansson. Gavin’s blond twin was lying on a thin pallet, fresh blood soaking rapidly through a large dressing over his lower gut, but attempting to rise when he caught sight of his Captain approaching.

“Don’t be silly,” she pushed him gently back down. “Just lie still and let the healers do their job.” She brushed his hair back away from his face and lifted one of his hands into her own. Logan closed his eyes, a slight smile on his pale lips. Looking across, she gazed into Gavin Logansson’s dark eyes, filled with grief for his brother. He was holding tightly onto Logan’s other hand, oblivious to the occasional tear sliding down his face. She looked up at Bernardo, who shook his head sadly. Leaning over the semi-conscious Logan she told him to rest, rose, and moved swiftly through the tent. Accosting one of the healers, she discussed Logan’s condition with him and requested something from him. Although he was a little surprised by the knowledge the request implied, he went off quickly to prepare it.

As she sat on the edge of a table waiting, Captain Tessier wandered in, holding onto his shoulder. A small, broken shaft of arrow was sticking out. Catching the eye of one of the healers, he was told to wait until one of them was free. His wound didn’t look too severe.

“I could do that for you, you know?”

“You? I don’t think so, Princess.” He sounded amused, but his eyes were shadowed with pain.

Jenevra dragged him towards the table she’d been sitting on. “Sit,” she ordered. Gathering a large bowl of steaming water into which she plunged a handful of fragrant deep green leaves; adding some bandages and a small cup of a bitter herb drink for the pain, she turned back to him, holding out a steaming cloth. “Here, you can wipe some of that blood off your face. Oh, for Tore’s sake, Captain, couldn’t you even take your jacket off to make this easier?” Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she pulled a small sharp knife from the sash around her waist and began cutting his jacket and shirt away from the arrow as he swallowed the contents of the cup and began dabbing unenthusiastically at his face. “Look, that wasn’t difficult was it? Just take them off so I can see what I’m doing.” She started pulling the material from round the arrow, so that he could slide the shirt and jacket down off his shoulder and arm.

Turning away, she dropped the little knife into the bowl of steaming water. Soaking a fresh cloth, she turned back ready to clean the area around the arrow, strangely startled by the fact that Captain Tessier was now sitting in front of her bare-chested, grinning slyly. Avoiding looking him in the eyes, she focused on the arrow, ignoring his complaint that the cloth was hot. Moving closer to get a good look at the arrow, she felt his breath on her neck. On eye level with his shoulder, she started as his other arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Just trying to keep my balance,” he murmured innocently.

Trying hard not to notice his hair brushing against her cheek, or the fact that his skin was tanned and taut, Jenevra probed gently around the arrow head. “Sorry,” she apologized as he winced. “I need to see if there’s a barb on it.”

“Really?” Even after the herb drink his teeth were gritted against the pain. “I thought you were just getting even.”

Jenevra glanced up, puzzled. “Even? For what? Will you just sit still a minute?”

Tessier took a deep breath as she began digging with the knife, trying to loosen the tip of the arrow head. “For telling you to get back … out on the field. Ow!”

“Oh that,” she smiled a little. “I’d forgotten.” She peered closer at the arrow and dug a little more. “Here we are.” She pulled the arrow head out, a long thin design with a series of small barbs on the tip designed to pull tissue and tendon as it was removed rather than as it entered. “Looks like you’ll live to fight another day, Captain. Here hold this over it a minute.” She handed him a wad of cloth and pressed his hand hard against his shoulder.

“What’s that?” Warily, Tessier watched her pull a thin needle out of the bowl of water.

“It just needs a couple of stitches.”

“You want to sew it? Not likely.” Captain Tessier made to get off the table, but the princess was directly in front of him, standing between his legs with a wickedly amused expression on her face.

Now, be a big brave Captain; you’ll hardly feel a thing,” she smirked.