CHAPTER 12
It was the day of the Council. Octavia had seen Clarke, her face dejected, wandering all day long. The tension in the camp was at its height as the hours went by and everybody was waiting for Marcus Kane's return, left in place of the convalescent ambassador. When he arrived late at night, her inscrutable look gave the answer to all their questions.
He convoked all the Skaikru and addressed them grimly.
"The Azgeda ambassador didn't come back, which means they refuse the agreement and prefer to sacrifice Roan. The Commander Lexa asked what the clans had decided. Two clans refused to follow her and declared themselves to be neutral. So we are ten clans to support her in this war against the Azgeda. The clans' armies will gather in front of Polis in two days. I will take only volunteers. You have to know we'll be in the frontline, because we've got the assault rifles. But we fight for the peace between our peoples, a peace the Azgeda refuse because they have always coveted the supreme power. We have to help Lexa kom Trigedakru because peace between us all depends on her."
The day after, Marcus left with his army to join Lexa's troops. Clarke met Raven in the shuttle.
"I found a way to follow the battle," Raven said with a satisfied smile. "I succeeded in crafting a drone that will show us everything."
Clarke said nothing, not knowing if she should rejoice or not. She heard Raven click on several buttons, then silence.
"Fuck!"
"What?" Clarke asked, suddenly in panic.
"I've just found the Azgeda army. There are too many of them!"
The armies of the coalition had gathered near Polis in the plain suitable for the fight. In the front row were the Skaikru, in charge of eliminating the greatest number of enemies with their rifles until running out of ammunition. And even more ahead, four redoubtable women on their chargers, Lexa, Indra, Anya and Octavia, were waiting for the beginning of the attack, all made up with war paints around their focused and murderous eyes.
Marcus observed the army in front of them. They were thousands. How could it be possible? Where did all these warriors come from?
"Commander, they're many more than us!" He shouted.
"Winnes set raun bakon kom givnes. Disha hukop souda win au! Victory stands on the back of sacrifice. This alliance must win!" Lexa declaimed.
At that time, Lexa knew she led her warriors to their downfall. She understood the two clans which had declared as neutral were actually opposite them. And that the Azgeda had secretly succeeded in rallying peoples from the borders of the world, unknown to the Coalition. But she could not retreat any longer. She thought about Clarke, about this woman had revived inside her, about the strength she brought to her, about the feelings she had reawakened inside her. So, she unsheathed her sword, and pushing her horse into a gallop, screamed her ultimate command:
"Kom wor! Frag em op! To war! Kill them all!"
All the warriors rushed forward following their Commander. The Skaikru poured forth their murderous bullets on the front rows of the enemies who fell down. Hundreds of Azgeda collapsed, until the rifles went out, making way for the fury of metal against metal.
The Skaikru moved back, stepping aside behind the Grounders. And Marcus, further back, observed, fascinated, the four women still forward fighting against the Azgeda.
Around twenty men surrounded them, and their blades sliced, cut, slashed, slit the throats relentlessly, their bodies dancing and flying in a martial choreography unknown to her.
Lexa was the most impressive. Of the five men who attacked her, not one survived. In a few seconds, her swords had reduced them to nothing, her body spinning with lightness, whipping and ripping the warriors who fell before her amazing dexterity. Her power, her will, her courage led her army like any commander had never done. The four women, stained with their enemies' blood, kept going forth, slaying the Azgeda's rows, and the Grounders followed them blindly.
But the Azgeda surpassed them in number, and the Coalition warriors could not fight much longer. Seized with terror, Marcus saw even Lexa was beginning to weaken, while a sword missed her head by an inch, saved in extremis by Octavia who diverted the blow and decapitated the warrior.
The Coalition was going to be wiped out here in this plain.
In the shuttle, Clarke, Raven and Abby were watching with horror the images broadcasted by the drone.
"They won't make it, it's the end," Abby said, with tears in her eyes, before leaving the room, refusing to see more.
Clarke, who had followed the fight of the four warriors, her heart terrified, could not resolve to inaction. An abominable idea crossed her desperate mind.
"Raven, are there operational missiles left in the shuttle?"
Raven stared at her silently, stunned.
"You're not gonna do that, Clarke..."
"It's our only chance..."
"I refuse to do that! It will kill everyone!"
"Not if you direct it properly."
"Out of the question!" Raven, exclaimed while getting up abruptly from the command console.
Clarke, her gaze full of tears, drew her gun and pointed it at the mechanic.
"Prepare the missile, Raven," she said, her voice broken by sorrow.
"No, Clarke."
"Prepare this fucking missile! It's our only chance! If they win, we'll all die!"
Raven was conscious that Clarke was probably right, but the missile would cause damage on all sides, making no distinction, and particularly in the center of the battle, where all their friends were. When she finally understood in stupefied amazement that Clarke was ready to sacrifice Lexa, Octavia, Kane and all others for the survival of their people, she eventually accepted to sit back down, and calibrated the missile in order for it to crash as closely as possible to the Azgeda army.
"It's ready," she said with a heavy heart, standing up again. "But the rest is yours. It's your decision, your responsibility."
Raven went out of the command room, leaving Clarke in front of the console, tears blinding her eyes.
"Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim. May we meet again," Clarke said in Trigedasleng when she pushed the firing button.
The four warriors, exhausted, had to back off faced with the number of the fighters, taking refuge in the second row to catch their breath. Anya and Indra were wounded, but kept their guard over the Commander.
Marcus knew the situation was desperate and wondered what decision to make when something catch his attention above him. He looked up and it took him a few seconds to understand before he began to run like mad towards Lexa.
"Commander! Commander! A missile swoops right on us!"
"A missile?" Asked Lexa who did not know the term.
"A Skaikru weapon! It's gonna destroy us all! Tell your army to flee, quickly!"
Lexa raised her worn out eyes to the sky, glimpsed a bright object, and rushed to Gustus.
"Teik oso rowenes laud ! Sound the retreat!"
And as Gustus was blowing his warhorn, Lexa shouted at all her warriors in the front row to run away. And all of them began to run as they had never run, in a desperate effort to escape from annihilation, the four women running abreast, Marcus, Bellamy, Murphy, at their sides. And when the missile hit its target in an ineffable explosion, Lexa, like in a dream, saw all her fighting comrades be thrown like rag dolls, taken in a blinding light and an incandescent heat, she felt her eardrums burst, and her body propelled forward by the apocalyptic blast of air. She heard the sound and the fury. And then she felt nothing any longer.
The wind was blowing on the disfigured plain, carrying the blood smell of thousands of decimated warriors, lying in the middle of a crater, also conveying the cries of agony and pain of the wounded and the distraught survivors. One discerned fire, one breathed death, one revealed the abyss. And emerging from below the corpses, seriously injured but alive, a warrior rose, her gaze ringed with black sweeping the extent of the chaos.
"Klark... Chit don yu dula op? What did you do?"
