Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

"It ain't like that, Corp," Yimt said, sounding not at all intimidated by the elf's threats. "We was mindin' our own business, being the ever-vigilant eyes and ears of Her Majesty-"

"Silence." The elf turned his stare to Alwyn for a moment, then back to the dwarf. In the bright glow of the moon, his face was cast half in shadow, blurring the sharp features Alwyn knew were there. It was his eyes, though, that gave Alwyn the willies. They were green, shining in the night like a cat's.

"What did you shoot?"

"Wasn't no officer, not in the least," Yimt said, batting the head toward the elf with the flat of his drukar. "Course, shave its face and put it in a uniform and you might not be able to tell the diff-"

" Ki rakke …" Corporal Kritton said.

Yimt looked at Alwyn and made a face that was most unflattering to the elf before turning back.

"Er, right you are, Corp, it's a rakke," Yimt said, lowering his voice an octave. "Ally here's been going on about them being extinct and all, but I never believed it. You know the stories, how that elf-witch twisted creatures to her will and all. Well, last time I heard, that Shadow Monarch was still perched on that little mountain of hers, so the way I figure it, as long as she's there, these things will be, too."

Corporal Kritton turned so fast to look at the dwarf that Alwyn thought he was going to attack Yimt. For several seconds Kritton said absolutely nothing, then he smiled, and the contents of Alwyn's stomach froze solid.

"Her Majesty doesn't pay you for your opinions. I think what we have here is a case of dereliction of duty, allowing an enemy of the Empire to get this close to the lines," he said. "I could have you flogged for this."

"Flogged?" Yimt said, puffing out his chest and looking at the rest of the soldiers now gathered around them. "All we did was save lives tonight, same as we do any time we get piquet duty, ain't that right, Ally?"

Alwyn tried to speak, but though his mouth opened and closed, no words would come out. An off-kilter dwarf, a monster from a storybook, and a maniacal elf for a corporal, and all because he thought wearing a uniform would impress women.

"See, Ally's so shocked that you'd think we wasn't doing our duty that he can't even speak," Yimt said, looking up at Alwyn with genuine concern in his eyes. "Tell you what, Corp, Her Majesty can keep Her medal. We'll take our reward in beer and call it square."

If I'm really lucky, Alwyn decided, I'll pass out before they start to flog me.

Konowa chose to believe he was leading Visyna through the forest as the sun was setting on their second day together. It helped keep his mind off his rib cage. And it soothed his ego to believe, as usual, that he wasn't lost

In the not-too-distant past, he'd led the Calahrian Imperial Army's finest regiment of soldiers into battle, and most important, brought them back out again each and every time. Killing the Viceroy then had been just one more battle for him, one more threat to the Empire destroyed.

The Viceroy had been in league with Her, and of all the things on this earth that Konowa despised-and the list was long-serving the Shadow Monarch was the most foul. Her very existence tainted every elf of the Hyntaland, especially those like Konowa. His hand drifted up by his ruined ear tip before he realized what he was doing.

What he hadn't realized was that while killing a hundred enemies in battle would earn you a medal, killing in peacetime got you court-martialed.

"Does it hurt?" Visyna asked, bringing him back to the here and now.

He quickly brought his hand down. "What? Oh…no, not really. They call it вЂghost pain.' You forget it's no longer there," he lied, wishing he could stop remembering.

She tilted her head to one side in a manner that suggested she didn't quite believe him, but let it be. They hadn't been together two full days and already Konowa found himself interpreting her moods by the way she held herself. Flashes of anger were always signaled by a stiffening of her body, a sight Konowa found enticing. Of course, it also meant enduring several minutes of an opinion that wasn't his own, but after a year alone it was refreshing to hear any voice that wasn't his own.

"I think I see a clearing up ahead," she said, pushing through a wall of vines.

"Fine, I'll have a look," he started to say as she disappeared through them without waiting. That was the other thing about her. Soldiers obeyed orders. Miss Visyna Tekoy, daughter of Almak Tekoy, most certainly did not-

"Konowa!"

Her shout came from the other side of the vines.

"Are you all right?" He unslung his musket and ran after her without waiting for her reply, ducking under low-hanging branches and holding his injured ribs tight with one arm. A moment later he burst through the same wall of vines Visyna had, and found himself in a clearing, and in trouble.

The ground shook beneath his feet. Konowa had stepped into a field of low scrub and directly into the path of a galloping horse.

Its human rider wore the pale blue of the Imperial Army cavalry with bright silver epaulets of chain mail on each shoulder. A gleaming helm of burnished steel wrapped with a band of spotted leopard pelt and topped by a flowing plume of red-dyed horsehair adorned his head. The horse itself was brown with a single white star on its chest, which was growing at an alarming rate as animal and rider charged straight for him.

Konowa leaped aside as man and horse whipped past, his shouted cry to hold up going unheard. He was still watching the rider when he felt a presence behind him and turned to see another trooper spurring his mount in his direction.

The second trooper stood high in his stirrups and reached across his body to pull his saber free. The horse galloped forward and veered to Konowa's right, giving the trooper ample room to skewer Konowa on the end of his wicked-looking blade. Konowa remembered the proper tactic: Stay still, then jump to the right and bayonet the horse as it galloped past. Without a bayonet, Konowa's options were few.

When the horse's muzzle was just feet away, he leaped to his right to keep the man's saber arm on the far side of the horse and swung the stock of the musket at the charging horse's face. The musket missed, but its continued stroke caught the trooper a glancing blow off the top of his knee. The man howled in pain and tumbled from his saddle in a billowing cloud of dust.

Using the dust as a screen, Konowa ran forward another few steps and surprised yet another trooper, who had expected him to be standing over his fallen comrade. Konowa screamed and faked a blow at the horse's head, hoping instead to smash the stock into the metal chest plate of its rider. The horse lifted its head in surprise and stutter-stepped, causing its rider to pitch forward over its neck. Konowa let go of the musket and grabbed the temporarily off-balance man by the arm and belt, pulling with all his strength. The muscles along his ribs seared in protest, but Konowa held on, and a moment later was rewarded, as the trooper fell from his saddle to land flat on his back.

A flash of light caught Konowa's eye and he turned to see a cavalry saber arcing gracefully toward his head. Time seemed to slow-Konowa saw everything perfectly, realizing with calm detachment that there was nothing he could do. The trooper was crouched low in his stirrups, the reins clenched between the gloved fingers of his left hand while his right swung the heavy blade downward. One large brown eye of the roan the man rode was just inches from Konowa's face, and he saw his own reflection in it. Then the eye was past and the shoulder of the horse brushed against him and he prepared to feel the bite of the cold steel.

A rush of wind like a scythe through ripe hay whistled in front of Konowa's face and then the horse was gone and he could see the open countryside in front of him. He waited, wondering if the slightest movement would topple his head from his shoulders. Nothing seemed out of place aside from the erratic pounding of his own heart, so he carefully raised a hand and placed it against his neck. He felt sweat and grime, but no blood or cut. Amazed, Konowa turned his head to see the trooper reining in his horse and staring awestruck at the hilt guard of his saber. The blade was gone.