A Grant of Arms

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Selese and Illepra charged across the endless hills and valleys of the Ring, as they had been all day and all night, heading for the Eastern Crossing for Reece. Selese rode with single-minded determination and could think of nothing else. It had been a treacherous ride, taking the long way so as not to be seen, to avoid battlefields and random groups of soldiers and mercenaries. They had ridden through dark woods and over steep ridges to stay out of sight. More than once she’d feared they’d been spotted.

But it was all worth it. Selese would ride to the seven rings of hell to save Reece. And she felt he needed saving, sensed that he was in danger. He must be, on such a dangerous quest as the one on which he had embarked. Wherever the Destiny Sword was, she knew, death always followed.

She prayed she could get there in time, could save Reece from whatever dangers he might be in. Even if she couldn’t, there was nowhere else she would rather be.

She had hardly stopped, her muscles weak from exhaustion, barely able to catch her breath; Illepra did not slow either. Illepra had become like a sister to her, and Selese was overwhelmed with gratitude for her being there. They both risked their lives to take this journey.

While they had done their best thus far to avoid open roads, they had reached a point, on the final leg of their journey, where there was no way to avoid it. Now there was nothing but open landscape, a single, barren dusty road leading ever east. Trees gave way to rocks, and these to dirt, and then to nothing but a vast, barren desert. The Eastern Crossing would not be far now.

The only problem nagging at Selese was how exposed they were on this open road, in the middle of nowhere. They were too visible, just the two of them riding alone. She was very on-edge, the hairs on her arms standing up as she felt prone to ambush from all sides. The Ring was torn apart, armies fighting armies, and even these armies divided amongst each other. It was a lawless, chaotic place to be right now, with no law and order, no one to stop bands of criminals. She knew they had to get to Reece fast.

They rounded a bend, and suddenly, Selese and Illepra stopped short. There, before them, blocking the road, was a huge, felled tree. She wondered how it could be there, in the middle of nowhere.

She heard a noise, and before she even spun around, she knew: they had been ambushed.

Behind them stood four soldiers, emerging from behind a boulder, all large and broad, unshaven, passing around a wineskin and drinking. She saw from their armor that they were Silesians. Her own kind. She knew she should feel relief.

Yet she did not: they were drunk, and they looked them over with lust in their eyes. They seemed far from the main army, and as she looked more carefully at their ragged armor, at the stripes torn from their uniforms, she realized: these were deserters. Spineless, rogue soldiers, betrayers to their own people. The worst of the worst.

“And where might you two fine ladies be off to now?” their leader asked, as the four of them made their way closer to them.

Selese’s horse pranced, boxed in with nowhere to go. Her heart pounded in her throat, as she wondered how to handle this. She saw Illepra glancing at her nervously, and saw that Illepra was uncertain, too.

“We are Silesians, just as you,” Illepra called out. “We serve the royal army. We are healers. So please let us pass. We have important business we must attend to.”

“Do you?” he asked, stepping forward and grabbing the horse’s reigns as another grabbed Selese’s.

“We are from Silesia, as are you,” Illepra repeated, her voice trembling.

“Ah, Silesia,” he said, mocking. “And such eternal love we have for our people.”

“You are deserters,” Selese called out, her voice darker, more authoritative, less afraid, condemning the people before her. “The lowest of the low.”

The others scowled, but the leader laughed and shook his head, surveying her.

“I’d say we are the smartest of the smart. We are the ones who survive, the ones who live for another day. We do not fight for some fake thing called chivalry, which we can neither see, nor touch, nor feel. Why should we fight someone else’s war?”

“It is your Ring,” Selese responded, undeterred. “It is your war.”

“My war is to stay alive—or to fight for anyone who pays the highest price. But I’ve heard enough out of you.”

He reached up and in one quick motion, grabbed Selese by her shirt and yanked her down.

Selese screamed as she went flying off her horse, landing hard on the ground, tumbling. She saw Illepra being yanked off her horse, too.

A soldier grabbed each of them and pulled them to their feet while the other two soldiers surrounded them. The leader leaned in, his face inches away from Selese’s, so close she could see the pockmarks in his face and smell his bad breath. The rough stubble of his chin rubbed up against her cheek.

“This is our lucky day,” he said. “We get two fine horses, and two fine girls to have our way with.”

“Don’t worry about your famed Silesia,” another said, “you won’t be seeing it for a long time.”

He laughed, and the others joined in.

“You are making a great mistake,” Selese said, her voice booming with confidence. “I’m on a journey to find Reece, the youngest son of King MacGil. The MacGils are a fierce and noble clan. If you harm us, and they find out what you’ve done, they will kill you all.”

“And who says they will find out what we’ve done?” he asked back, grinning.

The leader pulled a dagger, and began to raise it towards Selese.

Selese knew she had to do something, and quick. Clearly, these men would not listen to reason. They were out for blood, and she had no weapons at her disposal.

Suddenly, Selese had an idea. It was risky, but it just might work.

Selese quietly slipped her hand to her side satchel and ran her finger inside until she found a small vial of liquid, feeling it by touch. She closed her fingers around it and held it in her palm.

She suddenly changed her expression, smiling at the leader, and said, in a sweet and sexy voice: “I will do whatever you say. In fact, I would like to. I find you quite attractive.”

The leader leaned back and looked at her, surprised.

“All I ask is one thing,” she added. “Just kiss me first. I want to feel your lips on mine. The lips of a real man. A real warrior.”

The soldier looked back, confused and happily surprised. One of the others stepped up and patted him on the back.

“See, they listen to reason,” he said. “They always do.”

The leader grinned wide and brushed his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, tidying his appearance.

“That’s more like it,” he said.

“Selese, what are you doing?” Illepra asked, confused.

But Selese ignored her. She had a plan.

Selese pretended to yawn, raising her hand to her mouth, and placed the vial inside.

She leaned forward, grabbed the soldier’s face, and kissed him, putting her lips on his.

As she did, she spat the vial into his open mouth. She then reached up and clamped his mouth shut.

He stared back at her, wide-eyed, and tried to resist.

But it was too late. She raised both hands and clamped his mouth firmly shut, forcing him to bite the vial in his mouth. She watched as his face turned bright red, the veins popping in his throat; he reached up and grabbed for his throat, gasping, and a second later he dropped to his knees, then collapsed.

Dead.

Of course he would be. That vial contained Blackox—the deadliest poison she carried.

The other three soldiers looked on, confused—and Selese did not give them a chance to figure it out.

Selese reached into her satchel and searched for Apoth, a yellow powder which was an effective salve when mixed with water—but deadly if it entered the eyes in powder form. She grabbed two handfuls.

“You little wench!” one screamed out, as he drew his dagger and charged.

She threw a handful into his eyes, and he shrieked. Selese then stepped forward and threw the other handful into the other two soldiers’ eyes.

All of them shrieked, collapsing to their backs, writhing and foaming at the mouth.

Within seconds, they were all dead.

In the silence, Illepra looked at her, mouth open in shock, hardly able to conceive what had just happened.

Selese turned and looked back at her, hands shaking but feeling strong, determined. She didn’t know if she could have done that if it was for herself; but thinking of Reece had made her stronger.

“Let’s go,” she said, mounting her horse. “It’s past time we found Reece.”