Part 46

    It was the winters first field exercise and snow covered the frozen moors around the fortress.  A vast white plain of nothing stretched out in every direction.  A general couldn’t ask for a better practice ground. 

The Company was split into two equal sides and she stood off to the sides with the her half of the scouts.  Lt. Daran led her contingent and they were facing Richkurk’s scouts. 

Normally that would have her worried, but she was on the side that the Duke himself was commanding.  She was a mere hundred yards from his position and could see everything he was doing. 

“You’re staring again.”

“No I’m not,” she said and quickly looked away. 

Onata just laughed.

“Oh, that’s right.  He’s the Promised Victor.  How could you not gawk at such magnificence?”

“It’s true.  He is.”

“Magnificent?”

“The Victor.”

Verin was still talking to his officers when the other army began to march.  It was led by Tempest.  Alethia sat this practice out.  She preferred to stay in her quarters eating grapes, drinking wine and reading. 

They moved closer to the Duke in anticipation of receiving messages.  He had horns and flags for the basics and now they blew the one long note for “advance.”

As one the Duke’s forces began to march forward to meet Tempest’s army.  She watched as the blocks of infantry moved in a deliberate pace.  The cavalry advanced in stride with the footmen but stayed at the wings.  A small reserve force remained in the rear to plug any holes in the line. 

She never tired of seeing the perfection of a well trained army.  It was different than the personal, solitary training of the gladiator fights, but it was just as demanding and she liked that.  She wanted to become better and struggle was the only way to do it.

She wanted to be better to serve him better.

The armies grew closer and already padded arrows were filling the space between them.  She tried to see how the enemy would react and see the battle the way Duke Verin did.  The books said generals saw several moves ahead.  It was a game of anticipation. 

*

Onata thought Greza was a fool, but a harmless fool.  Aside from being a zealot, she was honest, kind and brave, three virtues lacking in the world. 

Divine Lights: ridiculous.  The idea that any powerful deity was watching them and helping things along was pig muck.  No one was watching and if they were, they didn’t care. 

For seventeen years she was a slave.  Seventeen years of pain, degradation and abuse.  No kind or caring god would stand by and watch that happen, not if he had the power to do something about it. 

If there were Divine Lights, she wanted to punch them in the face. 

Greza seemed to be studying the battle.  She got that particular look she got when she was concentrating.  Her lower jaw would stick out, showing off her enormous lower canine teeth.  She’d probably stop doing it if she knew she was doing it. 

The girl was as easy to read as a highway sign. 

Onata took off her helmet and straightened her hair.  She had to take the helmet off over her horns.  Only two holes cut into the helmet allowed her to actually wear it, but it made getting it off and on a pain.

She loved being in the scouts, but she hated the cold.  Warm weather was so much nicer.  Good thing campaign season was in the spring and summer. 

She looked over to Duke Verin to see what it was that Greza saw in him.  Yes, he was better than any other leader.  He cared about his people and tried for justice.  Perhaps that in itself was worthy of admiration. 

Very well, the Duke was an amazing man, but she wouldn’t admit that to Greza. 

Then something caught her eye.  Off behind the Duke and his entourage was a bowman.  Nothing strange in that, there were hundreds of bowmen around.  But this guy caught her eye because he was walking by himself.  No one was by themselves except couriers. 

She turned to get a better look at the man.  He wasn’t looking to the sides and had his eyes locked on Verin. 

The arrow that was notched in his bow wasn’t padded. 

Suddenly the situation was obvious. 

“Greza!”  She shouted and spurred her horse forward. 

She didn’t have time to explain the situation.  She had to stop him.  The Duke was closer

“Duke!  Watch out!”  She called out. 

Verin turned to see who was shouting at him.  He still didn’t see the danger. 

Onata pulled the crossbow off of her back in one, well practiced move and threw a bolt on it. 

The assassin was pulling his arrow back, preparing to take aim.  She had to be faster or Verin would be dead. 

She raised her crossbow and took aim.  But he was standing and she was on a moving horse.  She expelled all the air from her longs and tried to time her shot with the movement of the horse. 

He had his arrow back full pull and was getting ready to fire. 

Onata fired and watched her bolt shoot forward as if time had slowed down.  At times like this she was always amazed at how sharp her awareness became.  She heard Greza riding behind her and saw the Duke’s head turning to see the assassin.      

She also watched her bolt fly through the air.  It looked like a small dot with three fins.

The bolt slammed into the man’s neck a half second before he fired.  His arrow loosed and flew by Duke Verin’s head, moving his hair by the wind of its passing.  Her bolt had sunk in all the way and was sticking out the back. 

As soon as she reached him she jumped down, landing on her hooves and crouched down beside the dying man with her mercy knife in hand. 

“Who are you?”  She demanded, but quickly realized the futility. 

Even if he had been inclined to talk, the arrow in his throat wouldn’t let him. 

Greza came running up beside her.  She looked down at the man with a sneer of  disgust.  She then spit on the dying assassin. 

“You recognize him?”  Greza asked.

“No.”

Then Duke Verin and his officers rode up.  His officers were wide eyed and looking around like panicked birds.  Verin was calm as a windless pond. 

“That was a one in a million shot,” Verin said.

“He was trying to kill you,” Onata said.

“And you saved me.”

“My lord,” one of his officers said.  “I think we should get you off the field.  There may be more of them.” 

“You’re right, but I’m not going anywhere.  Onata, you have my thanks and I’ll be more thankful later.  Right now I want you and Greza to find out who this man was.  Find out why and who his employer is.”

“Yes, Duke!” Onata and Greza said in unison. 

She turned to Greza who was looking at her with that “concentrating” look again.

“What?”

“You just saved the Duke’s life.”

“I don’t have time to think about that.”

She didn’t do it for any fame or reward.  She just reacted like anyone else would. 

“Stop looking at me like I’m some hero,” Onata said. 

She wasn’t a hero.  In fact, she was a pretty horrible person at time.  She drank too much, slept in other people’s beds too much and only cared about herself. 

“You don’t understand,” Greza said.  “You saved Duke Verin’s life.  The life of the Promised Victor.  You’re the Protector.”

“Don’t get into that crap right now.”

She waved dismissed it with a wave of her hand, but in the back of her mind she found that it wasn’t nearly so easy to dismiss. 

Out of everyone in the army, she was the only one to see the assassin.  She pulled off that shot faster than the man and from horseback.  She shouldn’t have been able to make that shot.  She wasn’t that good. 

She looked over to the Duke and saw what Greza saw, a fearless man that wouldn’t let anything stop him.  He would win no matter what.  Her mind filled with all the possibilities.  All of Greza’s evidence sorted out and fell into place. 

He was the Victor.