Barbarian Tales 1: Mistress of the Sword - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Vengeance

The camp was awake long before morning and Shailaja with it. She was denied her morning public bath, but Velag had his body slaves washed her down and then dressed her. She was allowed to eat and then turned out in the camp, escorted by two guards.

As usual chains augmented the guards assigned to watch her. Her wrists were linked by a short length of chain that was padlocked to another that was placed about her waist. It allowed limited movement of her hands, but little else. Her feet were free, but as she was surrounded by dozens of soldiers any attempt to break free would be wasted. She waited, wondering what her captors had planned on this day.

The guards took her to where Velag with his hundred warriors waited. They seemed to be expecting battle as each man stood near his mount, but Shailaja had no idea what threat they might face as they were gathered in an area that was screened from the town by a thick grove of trees. It took her little time to understand that once again the three allies hoped to lure the Uvarians from the town, and she wondered what torment they were subjecting Hestia to this time.

She discovered what a few heartbeats later as she was led to where Gorvag stood. Bekor was also there, standing in front of the gates of the city taunting the men on the walls. She saw no sign of his troops and guessed that they were probably posted elsewhere either in ambush or perhaps as a diversion. She found out shortly that they were actually on the other side of the city being used for exactly that purpose.

She had no trouble finding Hestia. She had been tied to a heavy wooden frame that had been put together in the shape of an X. It had been raised into an upright position with the hapless Queen facing the city gates and her outraged people. From Shailaja's viewpoint, which was slightly to one side, the Queen appeared barely conscious; the succession of ordeals to which she had been subjected having apparently worn her down. Nude and helpless, she was once again being offered to the people of Uvar to either surrender or stage a desperate attempt to save her.

This time the stratagem worked, but not quite in the way that the attackers had hoped. It seemed that Gorvag and his allies were not the only commanders capable of intelligent thought. There was a sudden rumble and the gates were thrown open. But this was no sudden cavalry charge; instead a formation of pikemen emerged from the gate. The marched in good order, deploying from a double line to either side of the gate and forming up in ranks four deep. There were only about eighty of them, but they presented a formidable defensive formation. Behind them came men and a few women that were not as well trained or as well armed. Numbering about a hundred, these citizens carried a variety of weapons from swords to axes and spears.

It was not the most formidable force Shailaja have ever seen assembled, and she wondered what such a small and poorly trained force could do against the much larger force arrayed against it, but as she was to quickly learn, the Uvarians were not without their skills in battle.

It appeared that Bekor's cruel tactic had worked. The gates of Uvar were open, although not in the undisciplined manner that Bekor had hoped for. Several of Gorvag's mob surged toward them, ready to engage in battle, but Gorvag's shout immediately called them back. From the discussions in Velag's pavilion Shailaja knew that the plan was to draw the Uvarians from their walls and then break them with Velag's cavalry.

However, the close order formation the Uvarians had formed left little hope of that until they were farther from the wall where the exposed flanks of their tiny force could be attacked.

There was, of course, another way that the Uvarians could be broken and that was with massed arrow volleys, but Bekor's crossbowmen were on the other side of the city and although every one of Velag's riders had a bow, they were too far back as yet to be within range.

In spite of the fact that the Uvarians seemed to have gotten away with opening their gates it seemed to leave them no closer to rescuing their Queen. Hestia was still tied to the cross and was surrounded by Gorvag's men. It seemed they had exposed themselves to attack for no purpose. However, within a few heartbeats they began to move and when they did the other part of their plan was revealed. Through the gates filed several dozen crossbowmen, and suddenly Gorvag was yelling at Bekor. "We need your men. Get them here as quickly as possible." As Bekor rode off he turned to one of his men. "Tell Velag to bring his men up fast." Looking toward Hestia he spoke again. "Get her down and out of the way."

But it was already too late. In spite of the seeming clumsiness of the Uvarian's rescue attempt it was well planned. The pikemen slowly marched several yards from the wall, maintaining their tight formation with the more lightly armed troops following, and behind them came the crossbowmen. The front rank stopped about fifty paces from where their Queen hung on the cross and then the Uvarian crossbowmen brought up their weapons.

Gorvag suddenly realized his danger and headed for cover, wheeling his horse toward the place where Velag and his men were waiting. His retreat had an unfortunate affect on his men, who seeing their leader fleeing decided to follow him. They were helped in this decision by a sudden shower of quarrels as the Uvarian crossbowmen released their weapons. Gorvag's rabble once again broke and ran.

As they retreated a party of Uvarians dashed through the ranks of the pikemen and headed for Hestia. Gorvag swung his horse around. "Kill her," he shouted.

His command was almost meaningless, all of his men having decided to follow him to safety rather than stay to fight off the Uvarian sally. Hestia was left alone, still tied to the cross and barely conscious.

At that moment, however, Velag, who had apparently stayed in touch with developments near the city gates, arrived with the vanguard of his men. This suddenly changed the complexion of the battle. Whatever else might be said against Belusendrans, they make good warriors. Each of Velag's men was armed with a powerful bow and they could use it almost as well on horseback as they could on the ground. They loosed a volley of arrows into the Uvarians that devastated the lightly armoured men who were rushing to the aid of their Queen. They followed it up with a second volley, this time targeting the pikemen. Even though they were more heavily armoured than their fellows, many of the arrows struck home, however, the soldiers of Uvar displayed the same courage that they had when they had fought to the last in a vain attempt to defend Hestia and stood their ground. At the same time a cascade of arrows flew from the walls of Uvar, the archers and crossbowmen stationed there making use of their higher elevation to rain missiles down on Velag's men. In conjunction with this attack the soldiers standing behind the pikemen let loose a barrage of small missiles that landed among the horsemen.

This seemingly feeble assault had the remarkable affect of causing many of the horses to scream in pain. Shailaja realized that the objects thrown had been caltrops, sharp pointed objects intended to painfully wound the feet of any man or animal that stepped on them. They were ugly devices intended to maim and cripple, but they evened up the odds for Uvar's infantry against Velag's mounted warriors.

So far the battle had gone well for the Uvarians, but in spite of the setbacks they had suffered Velag's warriors were men that had trained all of their lives for battle. It took them only a few heartbeats to react. Retreating from the massed pikemen they began to loose their arrows from a distance, while a number broke off in an attempt to come at the Uvarians from the flanks.

Velag's mounted archers could get off five arrows for every one the crossbowmen fired. The ranks of the pikemen and the soldiers behind them began to waver, even with the help of the men on the walls of the city. At the same time Bekor and the members of his bodyguard arrived, coming at the massed Uvarians from the right flank.

It was to the credit of the Uvarian militia that they did not break. Outnumbered, and facing highly trained warriors, at least so far as Velag's men were concerned, they held their ground and attempted to fight their way toward their Queen.

But it was clear to Shailaja that in spite of their bravery they could not win. The rest of Bekor's men were rushing toward the fray and when they arrived the battle would end quickly.

Her guards had halted just into the trees and paused to watch the remainder of the battle, but they kept an eye on her as well. Much as she burned to join the battle, there was nothing she could do except watch and hope that somehow Uvar's outmatched forces might prevail. Matters, however, were to take a sudden and unexpected turn.

There was a sudden grunt from the guard to her right, but that was the only sound he made before he slowly toppled forward. The second guard made only a surprised gasp and then he too dropped to the ground. Shailaja turned quickly, ready to defend herself as best she could, although she could have done little with her wrists chained. However, there was no threat to her. Siva stood there, bloody knife in her right hand. In her other hand was a key.

"I've been waiting for this chance," Siva said. "Up until now you were too closely guarded, but now I can release you." She fitted the key to the padlock and the shackles fell from Shailaja's wrists.

Her rescue was so unexpected that for a few heartbeats Shailaja simply stood where she was, but it did not take her long to recover.

"Go now," Siva continued. "You can escape in the confusion of the battle."

Shailaja took one of the fallen guard's swords and then that of the other. "No," she said, quietly. "Now I take my vengeance."

Strangely, she felt no anger, just an icy calm. Less than a hundred yards away were the three men she had come to hate most in the world. For more than a moon she had dreamed of what she would do to them if she ever got a sword in her hand again, and now that moment had come. However, now her anger was replaced by a steely determination. Several riderless horses wheeled about and she fixed on the closest and ran toward it. She was aware of Siva running beside her, her sword at the ready, but she focused on her goal.

Their attention fixed on their battle with the Uvarians, no one realized she was behind them until the last instant. At that point one of Gorvag's rabble glanced back over his shoulder. By happy chance the man was Walnuf. He had just time to raise his sword before her blade gutted him. His scream was lost in the shouts of battle, but Shailaja was already moving on to the next man and then the next.

She moved methodically through the rear of Gorvag's men, each step taking her closer to their leader and the murderer of her lover. She made good use of the two-handed technique Den had taught her and it seemed fitting somehow that she employ it. Slightly behind her, Siva acted as her flank guard, watching for anyone who might attempt to cut in from behind.

She cut down man after man before any of Gorvag's men realized that something was wrong, but it was too late; she had already reached one of the free horses. Even as a shout of alarm went up she grabbed the rein, gained the stirrup and vaulted into the saddle. Trained for battle, the warhorse responded immediately to her touch and surged forward. Rising in the saddle Shailaja was able to strike down with the full force of either arm and she cut a swathe toward Velag's cavalry.

Circling the Uvarians and intent on decimating the infantry with their deadly bows, the Belusendrans hardly noticed her arrival until she was among the first of them. She slashed left and right, each blow taking a man from the saddle, but her rampage could not continue unopposed forever. A cry went up from Gorvag's and Velag's men and suddenly she was the centre of attention.

The horsemen wheeled toward her and the foot soldiers stabbed at her with pike and spear. However, she was well into her attack, hacking and cutting at anyone who opposed her, as she fought her way toward Velag and Gorvag.

In battle all is confusion, so much so that it often becomes difficult to tell friend from foe. Shailaja had no such problem, having only Siva as an ally. She cut down anyone who dared come near her or who got in her way as she fought toward the two mercenary leaders.

The chaos of battle is difficult to describe, but Shailaja's reaction to the disorder generated by conflict was unique. For her everything seemed to slow and she became conscious of the place and actions of everyone around her. It was very much like being in a boat in the midst of a raging river with rocks thrusting up on all sides. As the boat twists and turns in the current the paddle is used to move the boat away from danger and into the more open water. It was like that for her, except that she used swords instead of paddles, finding the seams in the enemy ranks and cutting her way through them.

Her swords bathed in blood, so much so that she was covered in gore from head to foot, but she noticed nothing except those who stood in her way. Rider after rider fell before her as did those on foot who were not quick enough to get out of her way. Mirana followed her throughout the battle, guiding her hands and alerting her to every danger until suddenly the one she sought appeared in front of her and she found herself facing Velag.

He was fully armoured, but Shailaja had already killed every man like him who had dared crossed blades with her and she hesitated not a heartbeat. Kicking her horse forward she engaged him blade on blade.

Velag fought furiously and with the boldness Shailaja expected of a Belusendran Warrior, but she knew from the first instant their blades touched that she had him. It took a little longer for Velag to realize that, and when he did he fought even harder, but now Shailaja sensed the fear in him as he realized that he surely faced death. Many men would have wheeled their horse out of the battle and sought escape, but Velag had some honour. He attacked in desperation, seeking to find some weakness in her defence. Like all good horsemen he attempted to bring his horse into the battle, using it to offset her superiority as a warrior. Here he had an advantage as Kaltarans are not renowned horsemen, but Shailaja had greatly improved her skills in her two years of riding with the Ravens, and Velag's desperate tactic did not work.

All of this action took much more time to describe than it took to happen. Velag and Shailaja were together for probably only a few dozen heartbeats and then she broke through his guard. Her right hand blade reached over his shield and pierced his shoulder. As his shield dropped it was followed an instant later by the left hand blade which drove over his guard and took him in the eye. He died almost instantly and made not a sound as he fell from his saddle. Shailaja would have enjoyed the victory more if she had made him suffer a little, but in battle she knew that it was best to take what is offered and so she had part of her vengeance, although it was not as satisfying as she would have wished.

Shailaja's eyes next looked for Gorvag and she found him surrounded by his bodyguard and desperately trying to rally his men. In the short time it had taken her to fight her way through to Velag several things had changed. Bekor's infantry had begun to arrive, a factor that should have tipped the battle strongly in favour of the besiegers. But the Uvarians had countered with reinforcements of their own. From the gates charged a motley assortment of cavalry. To the trained eye it appeared that the inhabitants of the city had put anyone who was capable of holding a saddle and sent him out to do battle. However, it was unexpected and it came at the perfect moment.

Bekor's men had just entered the fray and were pressing into the right flank of the Uvarian pikemen. The sudden appearance of horsemen on their own flank sent this attack into disarray. In spite of the importance of this development, Shailaja paid it little attention. She had her eyes fixed on Gorvag and drove toward him.

During all of this Siva fought by her side. Although she had not Shailaja's size and strength, she was a skilled rider and handled a sword about as well as anyone Shailaja had seen, with the exception of herself and Den. As she swung her mount toward Gorvag and his bodyguard Siva followed and together they battled their way toward the mercenary leader.

Gorvag was a skilled warrior. He had to be in order to seize the leadership of the Ravens, but he had never been in a battle he might lose. Although there were only two of them, Siva and Shailaja had shattered Velag's horsemen. They had not killed them all, far from it, but they had attacked them from a direction that was not expected and had cut down a number of them before they even knew they were there. With Velag's death and the losses they had already suffered at the hands of the Uvarians, they decided that they had fought long enough and retired from the battle.

The affect on most of Gorvag's men was catastrophic. Seeing the most disciplined element of the army retire sent most of Gorvag's rabble fleeing from the battlefield. Many, in fact, headed for their own baggage train which they sought to loot before fleeing further. This left just Gorvag and Bekor and while the Uvarians dealt with the latter Shailaja dealt with the man who had been her nemesis.

Gorvag waited with the dozen men who made up his bodyguard. He should have been safe, but Shailaja saw fear in his eyes as he looked toward her. Above the sounds of the battle she heard his voice. "Kill the barbarian bitch."

To Shailaja the odds mattered not at all. She spurred her tired horse forward and rode straight at Gorvag. He rode to meet her, but so did his bodyguard and they met with a clash of steel and horseflesh.

By sheer weight of numbers her horse as well as Siva's was caught up and driven backward. Shailaja felt her horse going down and leaped clear, landing on her feet with both swords in her hands. However, she was at a serious disadvantage among her mounted adversaries. They came at her, attempting to ride her down. Shailaja managed to save herself by the simple act of raising her blades and screaming as the closest horse thundered toward her.

As mentioned, horses have a natural aversion to being ridden into anything whether it be a tree or a fence or a large group of men. In Shailaja's case, it was a screaming warrior armed with two flashing and menacing blades. The horse shied and swerved to one side and was slammed into by the horse right behind it.

The result was a chaotic mass of tangled horses and Shailaja took full advantage of it, rushing toward the one closest to her. The rider saw her coming, but had no chance. She took off his leg just above the knee and then heaved him out of the saddle and replaced him. In an instant she was charging back into the battle.

By some miracle, or perhaps a superb feat of horsemanship, Siva had not been unhorsed, but she now fought desperately against three men. Shailaja charged into them, a sweep of one sword taking off a man's head and a sweep of the other a man's arm. Leaving Siva to deal with the remaining rider she turned and once again looked for Gorvag.

He was there, just a dozen yards away with what was left of his bodyguard. There were not so many now; just eight out of the twelve Gorvag had started with. Nine to one seemed like reasonable odds to Shailaja and she spurred her new mount toward them.

Two of them immediately turned and fled, and two others held back. The other four moved to meet her. The joy of battle surged through her and laughing Shailaja shouted her battle cry as she swept toward them.

For those who had never experienced such a feeling it is difficult to describe; but suffice to say that it was something akin to that which many experience during the most intense moments of union between a man and a woman. It was a feeling so intense that it banished all fear of death and Shailaja spurred forward with only one thing in her mind; to see Gorvag's head on the ground.

With a clash of steel she crashed into Gorvag's bodyguards, her blades striking like lightning. By happy chance the first man she met was Mogan. He loomed over her, but within a heartbeat was suddenly a head shorter. He toppled from his horse and within two more heartbeats four men lay dead, their riderless horses scattering across the battleground.

Gorvag's remaining men fled and she faced only the man who had shamed her and killed her lover. To his credit Gorvag did not flee with them; instead he sat his horse and faced her, sword and shield at the ready. Raising his helm he spat in her direction. "So it is down to us, girl. You will find that your tricks will not save you this time."

"As usual, you prefer words to actions," Shailaja replied. "Now use your sword or surrender."

In truth she did not wish for Gorvag to surrender. She wanted him to taste the bitterness of complete defeat at her hands before she killed him. However, he almost caught her off guard by what he did next. Drawing back his sword arm he hurled his blade in her direction and then reached down and retrieved a war axe from his saddle.

Gorvag was a powerfully built man and he threw the sword with all of his considerable strength, but the cowardly attack was not directed at her, but at her horse. With a scream of pain and terror her horse reared back and then toppled sideways, Gorvag's blade protruding from its throat.

As her horse fell Shailaja slid off its rump, landing on her feet just in time to meet Gorvag's attack. He first tried to ride her down, but she slipped to one side and avoided the trampling hooves of his horse. Rising in his stirrups he towered over her and swung the war axe with a blow that would have split her from crown to crotch had it landed. Once again, however, she moved away from his attack, using her agility to avoid death.

However, Gorvag was a skilled horseman. He spun his mount before she had time to recover and was on her again, the axe swinging in a diagonal stroke aimed at her neck.

This time Shailaja was forced to dive to the ground to avoid his deadly blade, however, as he passed one of her blades snaked out and caught his horse just above its fetlock. She felt no pleasure in striking the animal there, but in war harsh choices must be made, and she was fighting for her life.

Gorvag's horse screamed as hers had done and staggered sideways as Gorvag attempted to wheel it about once more. With a curse he swung out of the saddle and moved to face her. It was a confrontation Shailaja had long imagined, but she waited for him to come to her.

To an outside observer it probably appeared to be a mismatch. Gorvag was almost as tall as Shailaja and weighed considerably more. He was also heavily armoured in the Belusendran style, wearing lamellar armour that was light, but strong, offering the best combination of protection, yet allowing ease of movement. He also carried a shield and he swung the heavy war axe as if it were a willow wand.

Shailaja faced him without armour of any sort and with just a pair of swords to hold off his attack, but she had not the slightest doubt as to the outcome of the battle. She had beaten him once before in pretend combat and she would beat him again now.

Gorvag wasted no more breath on insults. He came at her in a rush, seeking to use his strength and heavier weapon to overwhelm her. It appeared that he had forgotten how poorly that tactic had worked the last time he faced her.

She danced away from him, letting him waste his strength on empty space. Gorvag growled in anger, and came at her again with the same result. This time, however, she let him know just how overmatched he was. Her right blade lanced out and sliced into the arm wielding the axe just above the armoured gauntlet he wore. He grunted in pain, but rather than teach him caution, it seemed to enrage him. Slipping his arm farther through the loops that bound the shield to his arm, he used both hands to grip the axe and swung it wildly, seeking to cut her in half.

It was a stupid and pointless attack against a warrior with Shailaja's skills and she made him pay, cutting him again and again until he was bleeding from a dozen painful wounds. She could have finished him at any time, but she wanted to draw out the fight; wanted Gorvag to know that he had lost; wanted to watch his face when he realized he was going to die.

"You bitch," he panted as he lunged uselessly at her for the twentieth time. "Stand and fight." He stood gasping, barely able to raise his shield. Shailaja decided the time had come to finish him, but she did not make it easy.

As he lunged toward in one more desperate attempt to strike a blow she let the blow sweep past her and then struck at his wrist. Gorvag screamed horribly as she took off his hand. Falling to his knees he tossed his shield aside and used his left hand to grip his wrist in an attempt to stem the flow of blood.

"You barbarian whore," he gasped between clenched teeth. He glared up at her, his face a mask of rage and pain.

It would have been but the work of a moment to kill him, but Shailaja stood over him, her lips twisting in disdain. "You brought this upon yourself. Your cowardice and treachery has now been rewarded."

"Not yet," he growled. From his belt he pulled a dagger and jabbed it toward her groin.

Her quickness saved her; that and the fact that she trusted Gorvag the way she would a scorpion. Even as he struck her sword descended. He gave a hoarse cry as she removed his other hand, collapsing into a ball on the ground, his handless arms clutched to his middle.

Shailaja stooped and picked up the dagger, recognizing it immediately as the gift her mother had given her. Gorvag had very nearly killed her with her own weapon. She stood over him for a moment and then raised her sword to finish him off. Then she heard a movement behind her. She turned, staying her hand as she beheld Siva riding toward her. Siva looked at the maimed leader of the Ravens, but said nothing.

Shailaja began to turn back toward Gorvag and then stopped. "Leave him," she said contemptuously. "Let us see to the remainder of the battle."

There was little to see to. With the defeat of their leaders Velag's and Gorvag's men had fled, leaving Bekor to fight alone. It had not gone well for the Cebarian prince; his men had routed and he had been taken prisoner. By now Hestia had also been freed, and was being sheltered between two of her rescuers, one of whom had given her his cloak. Bekor was on his knees, his arms tightly bound.

As Siva and Shailaja approached the soldiers of Uvar raised their crossbows and other arms. Hestia raised her hand. "Let them come," she said. "They are friends of Uvar."

Grudgingly the soldiers gave way, all of them eyeing the two warriors with suspicion. Shailaja supposed they must have been a fearful sight, especially her. Although she had sustained no serious hurt in the battle, a circumstance she could only attribute to Marana's blessing, she was covered with blood from the crown of her head to her feet and carried two bloody swords. Siva's appearance was hardly less warlike, and she wore full armour in addition to her weapons, but Hestia Shook her head at her guards as they approached and waved them forward.

Too weak to stand, Hestia sat on the timbers of the cross to which she had been bound. It was not much of a throne, but she received them with the queenly grace Shailaja had noted earlier. She stood before the Queen waiting for her words.

"She does not kneel?" one of the soldiers standing to one side muttered angrily. "She insults the Queen."

Shailaja turned her eyes on the fool who had spoken. "I am Shailaja of the Kaltara, and I bow to no one. If you wish, perhaps you would like to force me to my knees."

The man blanched and took a step back, his hand moving quickly away from his sword. However, he was spared further shame by Hestia's words. "It is I who should bow before her, Balthus. Had it not been for her bravery I would be dead and Uvar would be in the hands of its enemies."

"I spoke foolishly," Balthus said quickly. "Please accept my apologies."

"No insult has been taken," Shailaja replied coldly.

"I thank you for my life," Hestia continued. "Had it not been for your timely attack all would have been lost. I see now why you were kept chained."

This reminder of the shame of her captivity was painful. Shailaja had been avenged, but the lives of Velag and Gorvag could not atone for the months of shame she had suffered and the loss of her lover, but she said nothing, realizing that Hestia's shame had been as great and perhaps even greater due to the differences in their cultures. She inclined her head in acknowledgement and then nodded her head toward Siva. "It is Siva you should thank," Shailaja said. "It was she who freed me from my guards."

"There are two others," Siva said quickly. "The healer, Selvan-mal-Tir, was the one who mixed the potion that released Shailaja from the prison of the drug she was forced to drink; and Ulriggan, the smith was the one who gave me the key to her chains. "

This was a surprise to Shailaja, but it explained why her passion had diminished during the last half moon. It appeared that she had more friends among the Ravens that she had thought.

"Have them brought to me," Hestia ordered Balthus. "And do not harm them."

By this time Hestia was showing signs of complete exhaustion; not surprising for one who had hung from a cross for most of the day. "Take me to the palace," she ordered, "and treat Shailaja and Siva as honoured guests."

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It was done as she ordered. Shailaja and her companions entered the city and took up residence in the palace. She stayed for a full moon, finding it difficult to refuse the Queen's hospitality. By good fortune she was able to retrieve most of what had been taken from her by Gorvag, including her armour and weapons, and also the medallion given to her by her father, which was found to be in Bekor's possession.

As for the prince of Cebar, Shailaja expected him to be most painfully executed, but was surprised to discover that he was to be ransomed instead. It seemed he had promised Hestia his weight in silver as well as submitting to her rule. It was a contract the Queen preferred to vengeance.

Shailaja did not comment on the agreement. The customs of Arkana were not hers and it seemed that perhaps enough blood had been shed. The day after Bekor was allowed to leave she followed. Siva, Selvan, and Ulriggan had taken positions in the Queen's household, but she found herself unable to do the same. She had few fond memories of Arkana and some that were bitter in the extreme. And there was another place that once again came to her mind. As a result she took her leave from Hestia much to the Queen's regret.

"If you will not stay, then at least let me reward you suitably," Hestia said. The Queen of Uvar was seated in the throne room surrounded by members of her court and several of the high ranking townspeople. She motioned for her treasurer to bring forward a large wooden box, which he set at Shailaja's feet. At Hestia's command it was opened revealing a fortune in silver.

"This is a part of the silver promised by Bekor," Hestia explained. "It is only proper that you share in it."

Shailaja bowed her acknowledgement of the Queen's generosity. "I thank you for this," she answered, "but I would prefer that it be distributed as far as it will go among those of you people who suffered when Gorvag invaded your realm."

Hestia seemed not the least surprised by Shailaja's request. "That is most generous of you, but it is an act I would expect of a Kaltaran Warrior. It shall be done as you say. Is there not anything that we may give you to show our friendship?"

"You have already given me more than I have a right to expect," Shailaja answered. "I leave with fond memories of Uvar's brave Queen and am honoured to be considered her friend"

"That you are," Hestia smiled. She rose from her throne, an act that must have taken some effort considering the abuse she had suffered. Allowing Balthus to support her she crossed to where Shailaja stood and embraced. "Let it be known that Shailaja of the Kaltara is now and forever a friend of Uvar. And since you will not accept a reward perhaps I can give you something else instead." She reached up and placing her right hand on Shailaja's shoulder she turned to her court. "Let it be known throughout Uvar and beyond that Shailaja of Kaltara is hereby proclaimed Mistress of the Sword and is to be accorded the highest rank in the land."

The Queen's action no doubt surprised her subjects, but it was something Shailaja had come to expect in the woman whose life she had saved. She returned the embrace and then as Hestia returned to her throne she took her leave of the city of Uvar.

She took the same road Bekor had taken, riding toward Arkana's Cebar and the woodland where Sturm waited for her. As she thought of the giant woodsman her heart quickened and a smile played about her lips. Mistress of the Sword she thought. Sturm will laugh when he hears that.

Her mood did not change as she passed the cross to which Hestia had been bound. The victorious Uvarians had put it to another use. Upon it was nailed the rotting corpse of Gorvag who the vengeful soldiers had found lying where she had left him. He had apparently been still alive when they drove the nails into his arms and feet, but he was certainly dead now. She spared him just a glance as she rode away toward the dawn.

The End

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