The western force had been spotted by a warbird – Arada had detached the flying machines to cover our flanks and rear, since he was fairly sure the Bull's archery was entirely up to picking off the Dragon-Blooded who flew them if they'd gone near his own army.
The best estimate was that something like a thousand soldiers were heading towards us, although it was hard to say with the woods. That wouldn't seriously threaten the army as matters stood and it suggested that Fear-Eater was only bringing his best forces. Perhaps the expectation was that having a Solar with them might make the difference.
That wasn't impossible, and with the river awash with fighting men and the wounded, matters were still very much in the balance. The possibility of this attack cracking our lines long enough for the Bull to get a secure foothold was not something that Arada or I felt was acceptable.
Thus, I was trotting through the forest with Itani using his longer legs to keep up with unfair ease. Behind us, my archers were shaking out into a rough triple line eighty men wide and at least twice that many yards across.
I heard the incoming army before I saw it. It was almost impossible to keep that many men quiet even before you considered that they were wearing armour and carrying weapons.
I scanned ahead and saw that there was a ridge between us, with the rough path that passed for a road going up over a slight dip. "Archers halt!" I called out. "Catch them as they come over the rise."
My voice only carried to the nearest couple of dozen but they spread the word, like the practised veterans that they were and the flanks saw their comrades halting before they heard the instructions. That left them advancing slightly further and thus the incoming northerners would be facing a concave line – almost a crossfire.
Unless they did something clever. Stopping that was my problem and I kept trotting forwards, heading for a spot fifty yards or so off to the side from the spot where the path crossed the ridge.
"You might not want to come with me," I warned Itani. "This is going to get nasty."
"I've barely used my daiklave this whole campaign," he responded from perhaps a yard behind me. "Don't send me back now!"
"Fine, but don't do anything stupid. If you get killed, the general might do the worst thing I can imagine."
"Like what?"
"Appoint me as your replacement."
Itani laughed, but I was focused instead on the essence pouring through me. I needed to pick my moment for this – I wasn't far enough forwards yet. I gestured for him to crouch as we reached the crest and I scrambled up behind a bush use it as cover while I peered over the ridgeline.
I didn't have much time, Fear-eater wasn't crazy enough to rush in without scouts. The only good news there was that he wasn't using Haltans. A dozen or so icewalkers were just at the other side of the ridge, following the path.
"Wait until they spot our archers," I warned Itani. "When I move in, I want you to cover my back."
He nodded sharply, breathing a little quicker than I liked. I punched him lightly in the upper arm. "Deep breaths."
The young man blinked, grinned and then obeyed.
The icewalkers crested the rise and were greeted with several arrows for each of them. They weren't evenly distributed though, and only four looked dead. That was fine – those four were definitely dead, and I hadn't expected to get lucky enough to wipe out all the scouts, leaving the Fear-Eater charging blindly over the ridge.
No, I'd settle for him charging intentionally across it, confident that he had numbers on his side. Four to one was pretty decent, on his side.
The scouts retreated and while they were looking over the ridge and then backing off to report, I climbed up and over the line, moving from cover to cover. It was a bit tricky to find enough cover for two, but at least with the sun high in the sky, the trees and branches were throwing shadows down across the forest.
Finally, I was far enough forward, just at the moment that the main force crashed forwards. Fear-Eater was visible in the centre, riding on an elk and swinging a huge war-club around. Loosening up his wrist, perhaps?
The rest of the force – not icewalkers, I think they were likely Talinin and Ardaleth clansmen who'd been won to the cause by Fear-Eater's silver tongue – were spreading out from the column they'd been marching in. They still weren't a line – that would have taken quite a long time, but more of a thickening block as the soldiers at the back ran to catch up.
The forward ranks weren't moving all that fast – I'd have said a good marching speed, but if I called their progress a march then I think Itani would be honour bound to argue since it would have made a legion drillmaster weep, curse and probably inflict corporal punishment on those involved.
I waited until the Fear Eater had almost reached the ridge, which meant that the edges of the enemy formation were rather close, and then I sprang my trap.
The ground shook beneath me as the dragon vortex formed, tree branches waving wildly as vibrations hit roots and then cascaded up the trunks. And the light of my anima banner swept out and engulfed the northerners from their flank, right as they were focused in the wrong direction.
In a way, what I was doing was exactly what they had hoped to do to Arada: not so much to win as to disrupt him sufficiently to allow the rest of the force to turn the tide.
Men screamed, cursed and fell. The right flank of Fear-Eater's force broke up and while many crossed the ridge, they were scattered and unable to form a shield wall that might have kept them safe from my archers.
The left flank was doing better, but they were affected too. If nothing else, with the soldiers to their right crumbling, they had to turn in that direction or the archers there would have had a clean shot at them from the direction their shields didn't cover.
Fear-Eater's elk reared up on the ridge, the Solar Exalt screaming orders or encouragement. I couldn't tell what he was saying – with the vortex crackling around us all, it's likely many of his soldiers couldn't either.
And then an arrow punched into the throat of the elk and it tumbled backwards down the slope. The Zenith sprang free before he could be dragged down by his mount, landing on both feet and still with his warclub in his hand.
The attack halted and under his urging, the leading ranks retreated from the ridge, having to force some of the men behind them back by force, so hard was it for them to convey orders.
Soldiers staggered towards me, fighting just to remain active but clearly willing still to die for their cause.
It was utterly pointless, of course. They were barely able to hold their weapons and many had dropped their heavy shields. Itani and I swept through them, his daiklave running red with blood as he hacked down those trying to encircle us. My own armoured fists caved in faces and ribs. Often as not I could simply seize the struggling mortals and fling them against each other.
Still, they had numbers on their side and we were forced to retreat, heading south towards the river.
Fear-Eater was pushing through the crowd of his own men, face murderous as he realised that I'd cost him what he needed most: time to get his force into position to help his chieftain.
And up on the ridge, I saw archers taking position, having moved forwards as the enemy retreated. From that limited vantage, they inflicted a constant trickle of wounds and deaths on the Fear-Eater's army, individuals retreating as stung northerners tried to lash out at them, letting those further from the counter-attacks pick off those bold soldiers.
Against a well-organised force, this wouldn't have worked. But Fear-Eater's soldiers, however elite, were unable to maintain more than the crudest organisation while I maintained the vortex.
It was sapping my essence. Earth-aspects are not the best suited to a fluid situation, but I'm not entirely typical. And the longer I could keep this up...
We almost reached the river before Fear-Eater caught us. Almost.
Before I could tell Itani not to lose his head, the young soldier spun on his heel and went for the Solar with everything he could.
The daiklave was a blur as it slashed in, but the Fear-Eater brought his club up in time to catch it.
For a moment I thought the Solar had made a critical error, the jade-steel slashed almost entirely through the wood and iron, leaving almost a third of the weapon unusable.
But it was enough to stop the daiklave, and as Itani wrenched it out, that gave the Zenith Caste the fraction of a second he needed to swing with what was left of his warclub.
The broken end snapped right off, but he'd cracked it against the side of Itani's head with crushing force.
Arada's aide staggered, left off balance and before I could reach him, the Solar swung again, essence charging his blow.
The skull of the Terrestrial Exalt shattered like a grapefruit struck by a sledgehammer.
I screamed an obscenity, and then leapt out into the river, hopping from stone to stone. I was moving the dragon vortex out of range of the enemy, but better a limited effect than none.
The Fear-Eater stared at me, his broken warclub still in his hand. Then he looked back at his men, some of them still falling to arrows.
He hadn't lost that many… a fifth perhaps? Two hundred or so. But they were shocked, demoralised and it would take time that he didn't have to adjust for that.
I paused on one of the rocks, pulled a whistle from my coat and blew on it. The sound shrilled across the forest and a moment later I heard responding whistles.
The Solar started shouting more orders and his men bunched up, those still holding shields moving to protect those who lacked them. There wasn't much point, although they didn't know it yet. I'd just ordered my archers off.
We'd bought time, now it was time to fall back. If he kept coming, I could ambush him again. Bleed him all the way. And from the look on Fear-Eater's face, he knew it.
I let the vortex go and bounded upriver as fast as I could, getting back onto the river bank perhaps a quarter mile east of the previous battle. A fang of archers was nearby and they cheered as they saw me.
In the distance, I heard the war drums still. And then, like a punctuation to the entire battle, the war drums behind us beat a sharp staccato and fell silent. It was the order to stand and ceasefire.
I exchanged a look with Turok and then we both pulled out our whistles. He smirked and then bowed in submission. Making an obscene gesture, I blew twice, then twice more. The signal to return to camp.
I didn't know what Arada was up to, but if he was calling the battle off then it was more important to regroup than it was to slow and bleed the Fear-Eater's force.
It took us less than half an hour to reach the edges of the camp and I was pleased to see that a dragon of heavy infantry was moving partial palisades around to give more coverage to the west.
"Talonlord Alina?" The dragonlord, a grizzled older man, removed his helmet. "The general wants you to report in."
I nodded sharply. "Fear-Eater isn't that far behind us, he has about eight hundred men with him by my guess." Looking over at the river I saw that the Bull's soldiers had pulled back to the far bank – save for those who never would. The shallows were practically a solid mass of dead bodies near our bank but the nearer shore was clearer and the numbers visible there told a clear story of how much of his army was left.
Too much. We'd not managed to chew him enough to give us a decisive advantage. And against Yurgen Kaneko, that might be a disaster.
"Hopefully he'll get the message," the dragonlord told me. "But leave your archers here and between us we've got enough forces to stop him."
I wasn't sure about that, but I saw six sets of jadesteel among the dragon, which hopefully meant enough Exalted to at least pin Fear-Eater down if he was feeling aggressive. And he had every reason to. "What message?"
The older Tepet shrugged, barely perceptible through his armour. "The Wind Dancer has called for a parlay. With the Bull. Right there in the river."
The parlay would be carried out under northern rules, which were native to the Bull and well known to Arada. He'd travelled there extensively in his youth it appeared and the customs hadn't changed, enforced as they were by immortal deities.
He had not, by the way, been on a pilgrimage to the Pole of Air as I had more recently travelled to the Pole of Earth. It had been more an extended rebellion of falling out of touch with his father and the other Tepet elders due to their pestering of him to fall in line with their political ambitions.
But in any case, the requirements were well known and thus each side sent three people out, holding a tree branch in both hands. I can think of an awful lot of places in the north where finding six tree branches would take a genuine commitment, but perhaps that was the point. In any case, they were readily available on each side of the Bloody River, so that was easy enough.
I wasn't expecting to be called, but I was, accompanying Relasit in picking our way across the dead bodies, still clinging to the riverbed, so thoroughly had they been trampled against it. One was finally washed away by the water as we walked, slipping free and floating away downriver. I thought for a moment that the man might be alive but it was just the water moving their limbs. I hope.
Once in a relatively clear area near the middle of the river, we each formally handed our branches over to a member of the other representatives, in token of our commitment to keeping the peace as we talked.
In my case, I exchanged my branch with one held by the only mortal present, a Haltan who didn't really seem to see the point. I suppose that as it wasn't a redwood branch it wasn't as sacred to him as one might expect from one of the tree-huggers.
I was thigh deep in the water, which seemed a bit unfair. Even Yurgen Kaneko, the shortest member of those crossing the river from the south, was half-a-head taller than me. It was oddly disconcerting, since I remembered him barely coming up to my shoulder.
"Yurgen Kaneko," Arada began. "I have heard your name and your deeds are known to me."
The Bull inclined his head very slightly and his response was still embittered. "Tepet Arada, I have heard your name. And your deeds… are known to me." And likely never to be forgiven. Even decades later, I had seen the wounds of this war set aside… but not forgotten, no matter how dire the need for them to work together.
"Fear-Eater." Relasit was urbane in comparison. "I have heard your name and your deeds are known to me."
"Tepet Vergus Relasit," the Zenith replied with warmth and outward affability. "I have heard your name -" (no offense to Relasit but I suspect that the Solar had heard them for the first time during the brief conversation where he and Arada had haggled over who had come. "- and your deeds are known to me."
I met the mortal's eyes. "Rhall Gesran, I have heard your name and your deeds are known to me." He was the Haltan's voice in the Bull's council. A politician, not a warrior as such. But that might make him all the more dangerous.
"Alina Sunslayer," he began and I cleared my throat in warning.
The Haltan glanced aside and the Bull mouthed my name, a reproving look upon his face.
"Your pardon, I rarely deal with the Great Houses. Tepet Alina, I have heard your name and your deeds are known to me."
I weighed up the decision of whether to make an issue of my household's name being omitted, glanced at Yurgen and then shrugged slightly to let him know that I was going to let it pass. His frown made it clear that he had noted the resumed slight and was displeased with his companion.
Which might be good for us, down the road. Who knew?
"You called for me, Wind Dancer," the grey-haired Solar declared. "What are you after?"
Arada used the branch the icewalker had given him to stir the waters of the Bloody River. The blood had mostly washed away now, but its previous hue had been memorable. "If we keep this up, there isn't going to be much left of either of our armies," he noted. "We've killed thousands of soldiers in the last hour – probably more than died at Fallen Lapis. Now maybe you'll win. You've surprised me before. But I'll cost you. And you know it."
"You can't hold out here forever," pointed out the Fear-Eater. "We have detachments north of you, west of you and east. Where can you go?"
Arada gazed at the younger man and then shrugged. "I can keep a blocking force here, pin you in place and then break off enough of my own legions to overwhelm any of your forces elsewhere. I have interior lines, if you know what that means?"
I was fairly sure that it was the Fear-Eater's first time hearing the term, but he wasn't stupid. "We could -"
Yurgen gestured for him to be quiet. "I would rather not share my possible strategies with the enemy. So, Wind Dancer, do you have an alternative?"
"Aye. Something in line with the traditions of the north, something almost all the spirits of war smile upon: let us settle this by battle of champions."
There was an intaking of breath from Relasit. Fair enough. Whoever was sent up for this would be facing one of the Solar Exalted in single combat.
I'd done that, yes. But I had never managed it without painful cost and generally I'd been fighting under circumstances that I could turn to my advantage. A duel was different, a duel had rules. Dirty tricks were generally frowned upon and most likely there would be comparatively little in the way of useful terrain.
"Interesting." The Bull of the North looked at Arada in consideration. "Interesting," he said again. "And what would the stakes be in this battle by champions? Surrender by the losing side?"
"Of a sort." Arada made a face. "There's too much bad blood on either side – not just mine but a hundred or more little atrocities that this war of ours has bred – for either side to want to be disarmed. But we can back away."
"What are you suggesting," Rhall exclaimed. "That we just give up all the gains made?"
"What gains?" I asked him pointedly. "Have you seen the cities and towns of Ardaleth lately? Of Talinin, or Rokan-Jin. We've wrecked the kingdoms pretty thoroughly; I doubt there are half the people living there that there were just a year ago. Move the armies out and it might be a third… or less. We've made a wasteland."
"And yet we have that wasteland, while you are trying to escape it."
"It is a situation that could change as rapidly as you gained your temporary advantage," pointed out Relasit. "There are few if any adults fit to fight that can be drafted and there's basically going to be no harvest worth the name this year. You might have to pull your own armies out just to feed them."
Fear-Eater looked stung by that, but then he frowned in thought. And worry, perhaps. "I do not say that you are right," he observed, "But I cannot say entirely that you are wrong. These lands are very different from the lands of my youth. More fertile, but the nature of what one does to survive and prosper is also different."
"All I propose is this," offered Arada. "If you win, then I will lead my legions home. The lands we have fought over will be yours, as long as you can hold them. I cannot promise that another army may not be sent but you are far away from the Blessed Isle and politics is such that few would wish to commit their full strength as we have here."
The Bull considered. "And we should let you?"
The old Air-aspect nodded shortly. "As, in the reverse situation, I will insist that the Linowan allow you to march across their territory and cross the Silver River to return to the North. Unmolested so long as your march does nothing too damaging to them."
"You can't be serious!" Rhall looked appalled. "Yurgen, we have been your allies for years now. You can't consider wagering all that has been done on… a duel?" The two Solars gave him an almost pitying look, but the Haltan countered by nodding in my direction. "I know you're impressive, but I think it's evident you're not invincible."
As much as he'd been decidedly rude earlier, getting a little respect from the other side was nice.
"Your own people have bled for this war," Yurgen reminded him. "If Arada does as he threatened and sends a strong force north, he could inflict very heavy losses on the contingent of your Commandos in the woods. I imagine they'd try to burn their way through the forest."
Arada said nothing but he smiled enigmatically, suggesting that another holocaust like Ironthorn Forest was a distinct possibility. I cannot say I'd like that, but if the alternative was playing hunt the Haltan in their natural habitat, then a lot of fire began to seem a lot more reasonable.
"If I recall correctly, it was a long-standing tradition under the Old Realm," Fear-Eater muttered. "My memories of it are not always clear but…"
Arada arched an eyebrow. "The Old Realm, eh?"
I cleared my throat. "I believe he's referring to the era following the Primordial War, when the -" I paused and then took the plunge. Worst case, I could say I was being diplomatic. "- Solar Exalted were consolidating their rule over Creation. Rather than fight a war of conquest, they tended to offer kingdoms a chance through single combat." Which could get a little dicey, since what I'd read suggested that twice the champion facing them had Exalted mid-duel and won the day. But the Solar Exalted could live thousands of years. The longer view had its merits in that situation, with economic and diplomatic pressure eventually winning out.
The two Solars exchanged looks and then both eyed me. "You are a scholar of those days?" asked Yurgen, an interested look on his face. "I know we have memories of our past lives, but Dragon-Blooded are not reborn as we are."
I gave my general an apologetic look. "The Immaculate Philosophy was once less dominant than it is now. Texts can be found if one looks in the right places."
"And they let you into the Cloister of Wisdom?" asked Relasit. She seemed… perhaps not shocked exactly. Disturbed, as if she'd realised something that she had thought she understood and now saw in a more visceral light.
"It was a slow day," I told her with a nonchalant shrug and then squared my shoulders. "And I'll add this, Kaneko, Fear-Eater. There are writings from the Underworld, telling of the ghosts of the Solar Exalted slain in the Usurpation. Of the great Spectre War they fought to save the dead from the scourges of that era. And how, with some unfortunate exceptions, most of them chose not to endure as ghosts, instead re-entering the cycle of reincarnation with prayers on their lips."
"Did they pray for revenge?" asked the Fear-Eater.
I shook my head. "They prayed for forgiveness, priest. For their sins against the Unconquered Sun and against the Creation they had been entrusted with. There was good and ill on both sides of the Usurpation, but even they largely understood that their rule had grown corrupt and tyrannical. Make of that what you will."
"I don't believe that!"
Yurgen extended his arm to block his companion. "She does not insist that you do," he cautioned the Fear-Eater. "And we are here under parlay."
The younger icewalker swallowed and then bowed his head. "You are correct. I apologise for my… impulsive behaviour."
"You did nothing, so there is nothing to forgive," I answered.
Arada grunted, drawing attention back to himself. "And on the matter I proposed?"
There was a silence as the other three looked at each other. Fear-Eater shrugged and backed off slightly, leaving the decision to his chieftain. That left Yurgen free to direct a commanding look at Rhall Gesran. The taller Haltan seemed defiant at first but as the Solar managed somehow to loom over him despite being significantly shorter, Rhall appeared to shrink in on himself and finally looked away in defeat.
"I find your terms acceptable in principle," Yurgen told us quietly. "However, I do have one condition."
"I thought that you might." Arada took a half-step forward. "Fallen Lapis was my decision, Kaneko. If you want a crack at me, I am more than happy to champion my own cause."
The Solar snorted. "I'm sure you would be, Arada. But I would not have it said that I would lower myself to executing a tired old man."
Arada's whiskers seemed to bristle. "Do not overrate yourself. I have killed your kind before."
"In the past, maybe." But the Bull of the North looked disdainfully away from him. "You killed Ialden, but for the most part of this war you have stayed in your headquarters. Sending younger men and women out to fight. My condition is that you do not break the habit."
He raised his hand and pointed at me. "You, girl. You killed Samea, who was my friend and my teacher. And Crimson Antler, who was my friend and my student. You are a foe worthy of me. I insist."
It was agreed that the duel would begin at sunset.
There was cursory discussion of where, but since neither side entirely trusted the other there was no real question that we would be fighting in the river between the two armies. It was the only practical choice.
That meant we had to clear the bodies from the water, a gory task I was glad I didn't have to handle personally. Kaneko's men handled the grim duty, under the cold eyes of our own – spears and bows ready in case those doing it were going to try to create an opening for another attack. (They didn't, but such was the distrust).
In the meantime, a handful of troops from both sides checked the shores downstream looking for wounded who had just wandered off. While very few of our soldiers had wound up in the water, there was no telling which side of the river someone could have ended up on and there were firm orders that anyone found from either side was to be brought back, living or dead.
I don't think anyone really expected that to prevent a number of dead bodies being handed over with throats slit after waterlogging had set in, but there was perhaps more good faith than I'd realised in that about twenty of the Bull's soldiers were brought back alive and carried across the river to the mid-point where their comrades could take them back – along with a rather larger number of the dead. Two Tepet bodies were handed over in an unequal exchange, but it was something and that – as they say – is better than nothing.
Arada and I sat in a tent. He'd ordered food and something to drink. Milk, oddly enough. I wasn't going to complain though. I certainly didn't plan on fighting the Bull drunk.
"I must apologise," the general told me, full of rue. "I had thought that he would wish to avenge himself on me. And while you are accomplished, the Bull is not like the other Anathema you have faced. He is older and wiser."
I cut an apple into quarters. One thing about being up here in the north-west, some of the fruit was fantastic. "Lyta was a child, she barely knew what she was doing. Samea was a sorcerer first, vastly outclassed up close and personal. Crimson Antler…"
"Came very close to killing you. Had she hit you higher or just a little faster…" Arada shook his head. "Yurgen Kaneko has had longer to grow into his power than almost any of his kind since… well, Jochim."
I was rather suspicious, actually, that Yurgen Kaneko might be the bearer of the same shard of Solar Exaltation as that long-ago menace. The Bull had exalted before the Jade Prison was broken, releasing most of the Solar shards and Jochim had been a Dawn Caste, like the Bull. On the other hand, he wasn't the only Dawn Caste alive who'd exalted during those days.
Filial Wisdom was well over a hundred years now. If he wasn't basically committed to squatting in the ruined city of Rathess, far to the south-east and lost to history (as well as the Realm's allegedly All-Seeing Eye) then he would be a threat to dwarf the Bull.
I'd fought him, outside Denandsor, for the fate of the city. Armies had clashed and bled, demons had been struck down – (huh, Florivet amongst them. Small world sometimes) – and with a considerable amount of help, I had struck the killing blow against the mighty warrior.
But if I had been alone… well, that could have gone the other way.
Compared to that, Yurgen Kaneko might be more manageable.
"The good news," I noted thoughtfully, "Is that he is an archer by preference. That won't really work for him in a duel though."
"He has a daiklave," Arada told me. "Red jade – claims he took it from a Wyld Hunt. So, he must have some skill."
"I don't doubt it. But at least I won't have to run across the river while he's loosing arrows at me. Probably, anyway."
"As I said, I would rather face him myself." The old general shook his head. "And not only because I believe it would be a fairer fight. There are also political considerations." He paused and then rubbed the crown of his head. "On both sides."
"At home you mean. Negotiating with one of the Anathema is rather a bold move."
"There will be accusations of heresy," he all but spat. "As if they know the meaning of the word. I have the reputation to bear that, but you are less known and the vultures will be out in force."
I leant back in my chair. "Well, if he's dead…" I disliked the idea of Yurgen dying, but he was a grown man going into this with his eyes open. This wasn't yet the man I had called a friend. For that matter, he still bore the curse of the Neverborn.
"You cannot kill the Bull."
I gave Arada an amused look. "Your deep faith in me is inspiring."
"No," he slashed his hand down in denial. "I misspoke, you should not."
Glancing around I made sure that no one was close enough to eavesdrop. "Now that really is heresy."
"Don't preach to me of a theology you don't even believe in," Arada growled. "I am speaking of practicalities. The semblance of weakness we showed him to lure him out was closer to being accurate than I like. And he drew back from the battle before he took crippling losses. We could still lose this war."
I considered his words. "You do not consider the Bull's death to be victory?"
The old man shook his head. "His word dies with him, and he has no clear successor. If he dies then who commands? Nalla, Fear-Eater? That other one, Raneth? Not to mention that the Haltans still have a considerable influence. At best, they splinter, but I judge it more likely that one of them will try to rally the army to them in the name of vengeance."
I considered and then nodded slowly. "I could see it, yes."
"If he wins, I believe that he will honour his word. He is no fool and to have humbled us will cement his name just as well as destroying us would. Kaneko cares nothing for the Haltan cause. He came here to blood and expand his army, to test it – and himself – against us."
"In that case," I asked him, leaning forwards. "Why did you propose the duel."
"Another battle will end our legions," he told me quietly. "And without them, our House may perish."
Which was fairly accurate to what had happened. "The deaths so far…"
"Something close to a fifth of House Tepet's Exalted are dead." Arada's voice was low, pained. "But that can be survived. Yet now… without the Empress, these legions are not merely a part of the Imperial Army where we have a deep presence. They are essentially the only forces we can use to protect – and yes, dominate – our satrapies. Without that our house's income will be slashed beyond what is sustainable." He held up three fingers: "Fewer sons and daughters to make marriage agreements with, little to none of our former military strength – which is already essentially halved – and no money to rebuild either of them. Our enemies will turn upon us and devour us. I see it as clearly as it had already happened."
"And you were thinking that, at worst, the elders give up one general who never gave them respect," I concluded.
Arada nodded. "I'm an old man. I did not consider I would be putting someone at risk who has more of a future."
I cracked a smile. "You really must be getting old, general, if you're worrying about politics rather than getting the job done."
His face coloured. "Take this seriously."
"I am." And I gave him a grin. "Arada, I'm a bastard. And I'm out here in the dirt. The thing to remember about the ones who'll whine and snivel and try to plant daggers in my back is that they aren't here. We could have crushed the Bull's army two months ago with minimal effort and they'd still be trying to drag us down to their level. Don't give them more respect than you must."
For a moment I thought I'd pushed him too far. Then he snorted. "Uncle always said he wished I'd have a subordinate like me one day. I thought I'd enjoy it more."
"So, I need to win without killing Yurgen Kaneko… or I need to lose." One of those would be easy. The other would be… an interesting challenge. One that could get me killed, which just made it business as usual.
"Do you need armour? More weapons?" Arada stood and dusted himself down. "We have long enough for you to attune them and you can have anything I can grant you, anything I can persuade them to hand over." He reached over his shoulder and lifted Tepet's daiklave illustratively. "You can carry my sword if you want."
That wasn't entirely untempting. I'd been better known for wielding a dire lance in my past life, but I was also a pretty good swordsman. However, I shook my head. I hadn't practised with it, and while I'd gone through all the normal training with both spear and sword at school, it was better to stick with weapons I was most familiar with.
"No, I don't want to be wearing heavy armour when I'm not used to it." I stretched. "I was up all night in the surgeon's tents. All I need right now is a few hours' sleep, just to make sure I'm in tip-top condition."
Arada nodded in acceptance of my preferences. "I'm not surprised one of our house's children would be practically born as an old soldier," he told me with an air of approval. "I'm just astonished you didn't wind up in the House of Bells."
"Am I collecting a set? If someone from Spiral Academy invites me, then I'll have been told that for all four of the major academies."
"Are you any good at paperwork?" he challenged me.
"Find another secretary, general."
"I'll have to." His head hung slightly as he walked out of the tent. "I wasn't keeping Itani out of the fighting because I didn't think he was ready. He had a good mind for detail. That's harder to find than you might think."
I watched his back, shook my head and then undid the straps holding the front open. Without ceremony I laid back on the ground inside and closed my eyes. I would have needed to use the charms that enhanced my memory to recall all the times I'd been in Arada's shoes. And that wouldn't make for a restful afternoon's sleep…
There was a spirit stood upon the water as we faced each other from opposite shores. Oscoe Oohan, spirit of the Bloody River, was also a war god of the Linowan and his head-dress reflected their customs – or perhaps they had begun wearing the feathered head-pieces in emulation of the spirit. It was likely that only he knew now and less than likely that any answer he gave could be relied upon.
The sun was dipping below the horizon to the west and the terrestrial spirit raised his arms ceremoniously, casting his shadows upriver and between us. No official signal had been agreed to, save the sun's descent beneath the western horizon, but this seemed good enough to me and Yurgen seemed of a similar mind for we both entered the water at the same moment.
I had stripped down to a lightweight tunic that didn't reach my knees and I was barefoot, hands encased in my smashfists, forearms in my bracers and my hair was still just barely too short to effectively tie back. In deference to the fact that the tunic would almost inevitably be splashed with water, I'd chosen one of midnight blue. I'd begun to blossom a little despite the rigors of war and I looked too much like a dancing girl already, without wearing something that would be translucent when soaked.
Rather than sandals or boots I had elected to spend a little essence to reinforce my feet against the rough stones beneath the river water. It might seem unwise, but I had no intention of being drawn into a grand display of powerful and short-lived charms. If that were the way this was decided then I would be at a tremendous disadvantage already against one of the Solar Exalted.
And I had none that would be as decisive against Yurgen as the Golden Janissary school's techniques were against demons.
Yurgen, for his part, wore heavy leathers and wool. He left his scabbard behind and the daiklave in his hand was indeed of red jade-steel. It hissed slightly as it was splashed by a wave, showing that the blade possessed incandescent heat.
He was also walking upon, not through, the water. Each footstep barely caused ripples, themselves rapidly lost in the tumult of the river.
"Now you're just showing off," I called once only a third of the river divided us. In addition to already being taller than I, he had about another foot or so of altitude. Then again, it might be made to work against him.
The old hunter shook his head. "Did you forget to wear your armour, Tepet Demarol Alina?"
Most Dragon-Blooded martial artists choose to practise in full armour, relying on our charms or on the qualities of jadesteel to counter any limits it might impose on their flexibility or endurance. And to be fair, we can generally afford the really good armour crafted to minimise any such hindrance even if it were of humble iron or bronze.
But several of the arts I practised, including Crimson Pentacle Blade, did not accommodate such techniques. If it was needed, the practitioner was expected to use techniques that provided it without actually wearing protection. To conserve my essence, I had elected not to use them yet.
Of course, that raised the chance of not having either natural or supernatural protection when I needed it. It was a chance I would have to take. If Yurgen was indeed planning on a quick and efficient kill, then I could very easily fall prey before I was ready.
But he had not lived to this age without being cautious, and my record was one he would not be quick to ignore. I doubted he would try for a bold and daring first strike.
I flexed my arms, rolled my shoulders and stretched one last time. I was in good shape, I decided. The nap had done me good without leaving me stiff and aching. "Oh my goodness." I looked down at myself in feigned surprise and then shrugged mockingly. "Oh well, too late now. I'll just have to fight without it."
"I'm too old to be easily distracted," he growled as we reached rough proximity, our shadows merging with those of Oscoe Oohan.
"In the name of heaven, I sanctify this duel," the spirit declared pompously. "May the righteous see victory and the loser be carried to the next life by my waters." He made no comment as to which of us he saw as righteous.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the last rays of the sun. Again, without speaking, both of us spent a mote of essence to ignite our anima banners. A golden sunburst from Yurgen's brow cast illumination at me, met by the paler but purer white of the halo of light around me.
And then Yurgen leapt forwards, swinging his daiklave in a high arc before he and the burning blade crashed down upon me.
As Oscoe Oohan yelped and fled, I caught the blow upon crossed forearms, essence crackling through my bracers as the red jadesteel tried and failed to sear through them. Forcing the weapon aside I aimed a kick at the Dawn Caste's ankle and he skipped aside, breaking the brief press of jade against jade.
From there we were a slow whirl of motion, feeling each other out. I had a slight advantage in that I knew the swordsman that he would have grown into over the decades to come, but I didn't know him now.
Shouts went up from both sides of the river, our supporters each bloodily enthusiastic for us to crush the other.
I don't know with certainty what he concluded about me, but for my part I was sure that this wouldn't be quick. For all he was better known as an archer, Yurgen Kaneko was no slouch with a sword. I doubt I could do any better even if I had borrowed Tepet's sword from Arada.
The good news about that was that he was fairly unlikely to do something wild and unpredictable the way that an amateur could have. That was the sort of thing that could catch you off-guard and get you stabbed up by someone not even remotely in your league.
I was the first to land a blow - catching him across his sword arm, just below the elbow, with the edge of one of my hands. It would have snapped the arm of a mortal. Even if they were armoured, it might have bent the plating and knocked any weapon from his hand.
Yurgen rode the impact and spun away, using his greater reach and my own momentum to keep me out of reach of his back until he was facing me again. He seemed undaunted.
He hadn't used essence to guard himself against taking the hit and I didn't think he was expending it when he attacked me –
As he did, a lateral swipe – I ducked mostly under it, just barely tapping the blade upwards and feeling its heat through my smashfist's finger – that could have decapitated me if it had connected.
- so it seemed that he was also holding back, waiting to see what he was dealing with. Playing the long game.
He tried to circle me to outflank me, but I was lighter on my feet and I had less distance to turn to see him.
I tried to advance within the arc of his daiklave where he couldn't use it effectively to guard, but he used his longer reach to interrupt the effort.
Three more times I landed hits, solid ones against his limbs that could have been crippling if not finishers against even most of my fellow Dragon-Blooded. He shrugged them off.
Well, that told me what he was saving his essence for.
Even Exalted couldn't keep that pace indefinitely. If either one of us had wanted to push the fight harder, then it would have simply turned into a question of which of us could keep exchanging blows longer, but neither of us was entirely confident that it was us, and thus after a few minutes we slowed, circling each other and keeping our guards up, but more focused on getting our breathing back under control and letting the burn of our muscles fade.
"You're skilled for your age," Yurgen noted, taking up a position upstream of me and ceasing to try to work around me. The shouts from either side had died down as it became clear that we were not about to find a swift resolution.
"It has not come without effort," I replied courteously. The water was cold around me. I was glad that the charm protecting my feet from sharp stones and debris also moderated the cold.
The icewalker rolled his shoulders, shuffling back and forth. I realised that whatever charm he was using to stay on the surface of the water would likely end if he stopped moving. Which might be useful to know. "If I'd been as skilled when I was your age, I would have been insufferable. But I wasn't surrounded by other Exalted, I suppose."
I chuckled. "There's always someone to measure yourself against."
He nodded silently, watching me for any attempt to launch a surprise attack. "I was surprised to learn someone so young had killed Samea. I measured myself against her for a long while, the oldest Exalt that I knew of."
"Oh?"
"About twelve years ago," he clarified. "Perhaps six years before me."
I did the mental maths. "Then I fit fairly neatly between the two of you, since I exalted almost eight years ago."
The old man's eyes narrowed. "You would have been naught but a child!"
"Some would say that I still am." And then I sprang up onto a rock that rose above the water and from it at Yurgen. I had an idea now of how I might defeat him – but I would need a better idea of how he handled himself first.
The Solar backpedalled, absorbing the attacks with swift parries and absorbing the impacts when I managed to land them. His style was reminiscent of Crimson Antler's, I decided. But he relied less on using charms to ward strikes off and instead accepted the chance they would get through, something his resilience allowed.
Finally, I came close to getting a clenched fist against his rib-cage, having pushed him back up the river almost to where it deepened again. He switched his daiklave hilt to his left hand and braced the blade with his right, blocking the punch with its flat, and then moved into counterattacks.
The Tepet cheers, which had built as I seemed to have him on the backfoot, were now eclipsed by cries of elation from the other bank.
I blocked every cut but the last, where he turned it into a thrust at the last moment and I barely moved my head out of the way in time.
As it was, the jadesteel kissed my cheek for an instant, cutting and cauterising a slight scar beneath my left eye.
Yurgen laughed. "I would not have believed anyone could block me so effectively with just a pair of gauntlets and bracers. Though you catching my arrows should have been a clue."
"That was you?" I asked, thinking back to Carnelian Peak.
"There was nothing personal to it, not like that sorcerer." His brow furrowed briefly in anger. "I gather that you spoke against their attack."
"I felt it was not the best use of their talents," I admitted cautiously.
"You are better than your leaders," Yurgen offered suddenly. He trailed his daiklave back and forth in the water, sending a warm current down to wash against my calves. "Better than the Realm and its many injustices. Why not join me instead?"
I paused in surprise. This I had not seen coming.
"I'm serious," he insisted. "Mors Ialden was my friend as well as my lieutenant. I am not biased against the Dragon-Blooded, only the Scarlet Empress' regime. What are your choices now? Lose, and even if you survive you will be disgraced. Win and you have compromised with my cause. I know that the other Great Houses will be eager to tear you down for your accomplishments."
"I'm not so arrogant that I think you're suggesting that out of fear of me."
He tipped his head in salutation. "Why not come with me? Why be one more foot soldier for the Realm's legions when you could be a general in mine?"
The prospect… I could see the logic. As Arada himself had been aware, letting the Bull and what was left of his circle depart would not be looked well on.
And if I joined Yurgen then I could fill the gap left by Samea and Crimson Antler, help to build him up to be the ally he had eventually become for my own circle. Sooner and with less friction, in fact. With what I knew, I could steer things to unite the North beneath his rule and that of Radiant Bright Wing.
It was easy to imagine how I would be able to manipulate them. And Arada would hardly fault me for the decision. Indeed, I would be able to turn them into an ally for him when her Scarlet Majesty returned.
And yet…
And yet something in me rebelled against the idea. Could not stomach betraying the men north of me.
Because that was what it would be, to do less than my best now. Even if I failed to then choose not to face the consequences alongside them? That… was something I did not like to contemplate.
Even Hunt deserved better of me. Even Tepet Lisara and her cowardice had still come back to the legions in the end, not run away and pledged herself to the cause of an enemy of our House.
Our House. My House.
When had House Tepet ceased to be a group that I intended to milk for an education, for protection through my youth and a decent amount of cash to get started with once I could seek out the members of my former circle?
When had I started to care for them?
Here, in the army, pressed together in the forges of war?
At the Cloister, where Ayama had literally died to protect me?
Before that, with Udano, Emari and Iyuki…? (He might follow me, if I left, but whether it would be to join me or drag me back home I did not know).
Home.
"Consider it," Yurgen offered, persuasively. "A people, a tribe to follow you. To learn from you and become the heart of a new dynasty."
Perhaps it had started with a little boy, sneaking into a nursery to play with his infant sister, and mistaking me for her.
"The offer is kindly meant, Yurgen." I kept my voice low. "And one day, a better day, we may fight as allies against a common foe. But you forget… I have a tribe already. The Tepet."
He eyed me. "A shame. I shall not hold the decision against you. And if you live through this, perhaps the day will come."
And then he came at me, daiklave lashing up out of the water like a living thing.
I was splashed by hot water as I twisted aside from it, barely catching the blade on my bracer and it seared against my upper arm as it glanced off.
The Bull of the North was done holding back.
Fair enough. So was I.
Essence rushed through me and our anima banners grew around us, great columns of golden sunlight and snow-white brilliance contending for dominance as each of us bent vast wellsprings of power to our duel, binding enough force to shatter fortress walls or burn out the soul of a mortal sorcerer into our confrontation.
Stones split beneath us and water sprayed violently around us as we struck and parried with frenzied force. Droplets of water glittered around us and a rainbow bridge spanned the river for a moment as the light of our anima banners caught in the spray.
The red jadesteel slashed past my face so close that I could see hairs cut away from the unbound curls that framed my face.
I crashed my fist against his chest, sending him staggering backwards, but failing to even bruise him. I'd missed my target, I realised abstractly but I was already darting aside before he threw the daiklave at me like a spear.
The blade sizzled past me and I rushed at the Solar.
Then some sixth sense tingled and I dove flat under the water. Sharp pain ripped through my shoulder and I felt bloody water on my face.
When I scrambled upright, my left arm was limp and my face tightened with pain.
The daiklave finished its return arc and slapped back into Yurgen's hand.
"It's over," he warned me.
I closed the wound with a pinprick depletion of my essence. "Let's disagree on that." The cut had been across the top, grazing the bone but fortunately not hitting the vital blood vessels.
"Don't insist on my killing you." Yurgen rested his sword against his shoulder. "In the name of those better days we spoke of."
My arm was going to flop around, I realised. Really bad for balance, not to mention causing me more pain.
Well, there was a solution for that. I poured essence into the air around me, chains of diamonds and quartz binding around my limbs and body. With exacting concentration, I forced the chains winding themselves around my left forearm to snare themselves on those at my waist, trapping the limb against my belly.
Yurgen sighed heavily. "So be it. I will see that your name is remembered."
He took two bounding steps on the water and brought his sword around from my left, exploiting my inability to raise my arm to guard from that direction.
I stepped into the attack, twisting and exploiting the fact that I was lower than he was.
On my knees, buried in the water past my waist, I was too close for his daiklave and my right fist hammered up into his groin.
It was a dirty move, but even so the essence flowing through him soaked the impact effectively. I think he was more shocked than pained.
That was fine. I wasn't trying to hurt him.
The essence of the earth flowed through me, up from the riverbed and my legs, passing through my heart and up into my arm. And I channelled it up and through into the Solar, in a technique perfected by Immaculate Monks of my aspect.
Trapped into statue-like immobility, Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North found himself standing still on the surface of the river and crashed face first into it, an offended look on his face.
Ideally, I would have kept hold of him, maintaining the effect, but since he basically landed on me that wasn't possible.
On the other hand, that did mean that he was in easy reach.
I wriggled out from under him, and drove my hand against the daiklave he was holding before he could recover.
The water was boiling around it and even inside my smashfist, I felt my knuckles sting from that even before they made contact but now I was ready and waiting.
The blade had been carried once by a Terrestrial Exalt of the Realm, a shikari hunting anathema down in the sincere belief that they were fighting to protect Creation. Its history before that was probably long and honourable – that is generally the case for weapons entrusted to the Wyld Hunt.
It shattered under my fist.
Yurgen reared up out of the water, gasping for breath, and I kicked his legs out from under him.
The man crashed down beneath the surface and I caught him with my arm around his throat, kicking my legs out and then locking them around his thighs.
We splashed and rolled down the river, current dragging at us and soaking unto the icewalker's heavy clothing.
Twice I thought he was choking and let him get a gasp of air before I dragged him down again, taking the same chances myself. I could kill him now, I thought. I just needed the right place in the river, somewhere deep enough to hold him down so that he drowned.
But that wasn't the plan.
Kicking off I rolled us into the path of a boulder and he caught it with his face. Even now his unnatural resilience had not deserted him, but the impact still caught him sufficiently off guard that he exhaled.
In the lee of the rock, I rolled him onto his back, holding his head below the water, my own above it.
I looked down on him, the water gold with his anima, the air I could breathe ivory with my own.
"Surrender," I managed to demand.
He writhed and tried to get free.
I let him get his nose above the water for an instant and then butted my head against his viciously. The bone snapped and blood streamed into his nostrils. Then I rammed him down again.
"Surrender."
Still he fought on, though increasingly weakly. Damn him, was he going to die for his stubbornness?
But I had broken his nose. And that meant…
I reared back up and onto my knees, my back killing me with the effort of dragging him up out of the water. Then I released my right arm's grip, drew my fist back and drove it into his ribs.
The old man screamed, blood and water gushing out of his throat.
"Sword of Heaven!" I snarled – it was an old name for the Dawn Caste. "Do you surrender to death… or to fight another day?"
He shook his head, punch-drunk, and I slammed another punch into him.
Three of his ribs cracked with audible snaps.
The rock his back was against collapsed into gravel and water gushed through, driving the stones against us and tumbling us into the current again.
Was I going to have to throw the fight at this late moment? I thought as I clung to his body.
When we came back up, the water was deeper, but not so deep that I couldn't get my legs under me. I thought he would do the same but he was limp in the water.
I dragged him upright, worried that he was dead.
His eyes were closed and he wasn't breathing.
Dammit! I punched him below the ribs and he spun and landed face down on the shore, more bloody water leaving his mouth again.
I staggered out of the water and sat down next to him as Yurgen struggled to get a mouthful of air into his lungs. By the time he managed a second breath, my vision was no longer swimming and I could see soldiers running down the riverbank towards us.
"H-how long was I out?" he managed, rolling over to stare up at the sky.
"Long enough," I told him. Not that we had any sort of hard and fast rule. But if I wanted him dead, I could have managed it. If he wasn't going to accept that…
He raised one hand and covered his face for a moment. "ow."
I tried to laugh, but it almost became a sob.
"I give," Yurgen managed. "You win, Tepet. You win."
The soldiers arrived and I saw that they were icewalkers. Their faces looked pale, perhaps due to the light of my anima or perhaps at the sight of their leader prostrate on the floor.
"The war is over," Yurgen called out as one of them pointed his spear at me. "Do you wish to dishonour me?"
They looked at him warily and the Bull, despite his awesome battering earlier, somehow forced himself to his feet.
"Do you?" he asked coldly.
It seemed that they did not.