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Part 23

Siegs breath came in desperate gasps as he was dragged across the dock. He tried to fight, to dig in his claws, but whoever was carrying him was extremely strong, and any attempt at resistance was met with a painful kick to his body.

After he'd been hauled out of the water, his captors had hurriedly bound his wrists together with rough rope. A canvas bag had been forced over his head, and his uniform nearly ripped from his body. Even through the canvas, Sieg could smell the pungent smoke, and could hear the muffled shouts of men and women as they fought to control the fire.

Suddenly, Sieg heard the sound of a door being opened, before he was roughly tossed. Sieg cried out as he tumbled down a short staircase and crashed to the floor.

Winded and dazed, Sieg recognized the voice of Captain Moore barking out orders. "Get him up!"

Sieg was dragged upwards until only the tips of his toes remained on the floor. His arms and shoulers screamed in pain, but Siegs terror kept him from calling out. All at once, the world exploded with bright light as the canvas bag was torn from his head and tossed aside.

Sieg was in a storage shed, illuminated by a pair of soot stained oil lanterns. The whole place smelled of mold, rust, and waterlogged wood. In one corner of the shed was a half finished lifeboat and a mess of rusted tools, and in the other corner was a tangled mass of fishing nets.

The whole shed shifted and moaned as it resisted the storm outside, the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls like the shrieks of a banshee.

Standing just in front of Sieg was captain Moore and a two other crewmen. The look on Moore's face sent a chill running up the back of Sieg's spine.

Moore paced back and forth in front of Sieg, his tail thrashing back and forth, his teeth flashing as his whole body quivered with cold rage.

"Well, Mr. Kolvest, you have caused me a great deal of trouble this evening. Do you have any idea what Lady Shani will do when she learns what happened here?"

Sieg started to reply, but Moore struck him hard.

"You speak when I tell you to speak!" Moore hissed, his face inches away from Sieg's.

Instead of replying, Sieg spit in Moore's face.

His eyes bulging with rage, Moore stepped back and drew his sword.

Sieg squeezed his eyes shut. "Marien!"

"No..." Moore snarled after a moment, tossing his sword aside. Reaching up to his collar, he started unbuttoning his jacket.

"Because of who your father is, I can't kill you." Moore tossed his jacket to one of the crewmen. "But you had better believe that I am going to make you pay for what you've done today, boy!"

"Go to hell!" Sieg spat, though he was certain some of the fear he felt was registering in his voice.

Removing his shirt, Moore revealed a chest marred with dozens of small scars which appeared to be claw marks.

"I've had to correct more than my fair share of fools, malcontents and punks." Moore clenched his hands into fists. "Bastitins, humans, keidran, I taught them all to fear me. You will be no different."

"You don't scare me," Sieg snarled.

In response, Moore stepped forwards and delivered a short, sharp blow to the right side of Sieg's midsection, just below his rib cage. In an instant Sieg felt a blast of paralyzing pain shoot through his entire body. It was as if a lightning bolt had struck him, his head spun, he couldn't breathe.

Moore stepped back as Sieg struggled to breathe. "It's a shame our people care so little for real medicine. Humans, on the other hand, have a fascination with anatomy."

Just as Sieg started to catch his breath, Moore struck him again. Another flash of white hot pain and terror tore through his body. He could barely think, he could barely move, even as Moore grabbed him by the throat and squeezed, cutting off most of his air.

"They've discovered these things they call 'pressure nodes'. Whether human, kiedran or basitin, the effect is the same. When they are struck, they create a great deal of pain, but also a sense of-" Moore struck Sieg again "-abject terror."

Moore stepped back as Sieg vomited.

"They call this one the 'liver'. I believe. Apparently, not only do all species have one, but they are all in the same place." Moore grabbed Sieg's hair and pulled his head back as he growled into his ear. "Just one of those little mysteries of the universe I suppose."

As Moore released him and stepped back, Sieg could do nothing but shake and shudder. His body refused to cooperate with his commands. His mind spun, his thoughts fuzzy. Every breath felt like he was inhaling white hot fire.

"I can't... I can't..." Sieg blinked as he tried to breathe, "I'm... I'm dying..."

But just as the fear of that realization struck him, suddenly Sieg felt something else. In that moment, he was no longer in a storage shed on the docks, he was back in the fortress infirmary, half drowned and so very weak. Even after the doctors had seen to him, it had felt as if he were dying. As he lay on the hospital bed he had felt his breathing and heartbeat slowing, his mind starting to wander, everything going dark...

But then Marien had arrived. Her presence, her touch, even the smell of her had helped drag him back.

Sieg raised his head, and for a moment he could see Marien, standing in front of him, her hands on his face. Even as the vision faded, the terror he felt waned, his mind cleared, and suddenly he could breathe better.

"I'm not dying!" Sieg growled inwardly, his hands clenching into fists even as they burned from the ropes cutting off his circulation.

"Now, I want to know, who was it that put you up to this?" Moore said, cracking his knuckles as he stepped towards Sieg again.

Siegs head slumped as he mumbled something that Moore couldn't make out.

"What?" Moore stepped forward and grabbed Sieg's chin. "Speak up."

Drawing in a breath, Sieg spat in Moores face again.

"I said, shame you didn't go down with your ship!" Sieg yelled as Moore stepped back, rubbing at his eyes.

"Fine." Moore snarled, rage etched in every single line on his face. "It seems another lesson is needed!"

===

Shani's mouth fell open in horror as the carriage pulled to a stop at the end of the Chariot Family's private dock. The Tahl's Victory was engulfed in flames. Two of the three masts had already fallen, and the main mast was a pillar of smoke and fire.

A line of soldiers and dock workers with buckets continued to try and throw water on the blaze, despite it being rather obvious that the battle was long over. Even the driving wind and the rain did nothing to quell the inferno. The Tahl's Victory was lost.

"How could Captain Moore let this happen?!" Jabarian hissed from the seat across from Shani.

The horses bearing the carriage pranced in fear and let out shrieking whineys as the forecastle of the ship groaned and snapped off. The burning wreckage crashed into the water with a tremendous splash and chorus of hissing.

Without waiting for the carriage to fully come to a halt, Shani threw the door open and leapt to the ground. She felt a pulse of agony run up her side, but she forced past it, staring up at the towering pillar of smoke and sparks as the pouring rain soaked her in mere moments.

Shani walked along the dock towards what was left of the ship in a daze. As she drew closer the main mast cracked, one of the spars coming loose and tumbling to the deck. Moments later, the deck below the main mast gave way. The mast collapsed, creating a volcano of sparks blowing up from within the hull. The top half of the main mast snapped off, reducing a fishing boat docked at the next pier to matchsticks as it fell.

"The Victory... my home!" Shani's teeth squealed as she gritted them so hard her gums bled.

Grabbing hold of a nearby crewman, she pulled the man close to her face and snarled. "Where is Moore?!"

"He's taken the prisoner over there!" The crewman stammered, pointing at a nearby storage shack.

"Prisoner? What prisoner?"

"The one what set the fire ma'am!"

Dropping the man to the deck, Shani immediately turned and stalked towards the shed.

Jabarian kept pace just behind her, watching with disgust as the command deck of the Victory collapsed.

"Utter fools." He growled to himself.

As Shani approached the shed, the pair of guards that stood on either side of the door snapped to attention.

"Lady Chariot!"

"Moore is in there?"

"Yes ma'am."

Without another word, Shani kicked open the door and stormed inside.

What Shani saw froze her in place. Sieg was hanging limply from the ceiling, his eyes swollen and blood dripping from his mouth. Captain Moore was pacing around in front of him, bellowing questions even though Sieg clearly no longer had the strength to respond.

"Moore!" Shani bellowed, surging forwards.

The two crewmen that had joined Moore in the shed turned, their hands instinctively going to their weapons.

One of the first things Jabarian had taught Shani when he had begun her training was to strike before she thought, to rely on her primal instincts to survive. The moment the men had gone for their weapons, they had signed their death warrants. There was a flash of steel, a spray of water from Shani's rain-soaked clothes and fur, and both men fell to the ground, their throats slashed.

As Moore turned around, Shani grabbed hold of his neck and threw him against the wall.

"What happened?!" Shani demanded, her voice almost a shriek.

Moore was surpirsed by Shani's strength, but more than that, Captain Moore, a man who had faced pirates, raiders, slavers, and worse, was terrified by the look in Shani's eyes.

"L-lady Shani! I-"

"What happened?!"

"Conrad's brat, he started a fire in the hold! We tried to control it, but we couldn't!"

"And where were you?!"

"It-It's commander Taffet's fault! I assigned her to watch him!"

With an infuriated snarl, Shani slammed Moore against the wall again. "So why are you here, pummeling Conrad's brat, instead of trying to save the Victory?!"

"The Victory is lost!" Moore whimpered, no trace of the proud and furious officer who had been questioning Sieg mere moments ago. "There was nothing to be done! And... I thought perhaps General Kolvest had turned against us!"

As Moore pleaded with Shani, Sieg's ears twitched. Through the haze of pain he heard a familiar voice.

"N-Naomi?"

"You think that Conrad Kolvest, a man who is depending on our strength and our troops, would pick this moment to betray us?"

Moore gulped audibly, "Well, I-"

"And you allowed my ship, my HOME to be destroyed!" There was an icy note to Shani's voice, so sharp and frigid, that even Jabarian felt as if the warmth had been stolen from the room.

"Lady Chariot, I swear to you, I did all I could! Please believe me."

"Captain, that was never in doubt."

Shani's grip on Moore's neck tightened. As Moore coughed and fought for breath, Shani leaned in close. "Captain, that was never in doubt."

"L-lady Ch-Chariot!"

"What you are going to do is go out there and salvage what you can of this catastrophe. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, of course Lady Chariot." Moore gasped.

"Then go."

Shani released Moore, who collapsed to the ground, gasping. After a moment he pulled himself shakily to his feet and bowed to Shani.

"Lady Chariot, I swear, I will find out who put him up to this, I will make it my mission to-"

"Just get out! Now!"

Moore hurriedly nodded and made to leave, Shani turned to Jabarian.

As Jabarian met her gaze, Shani made a tiny movement of her head, a signal Jabarian knew well.

With practiced speed and grace, Jabarian stepped up behind Moore just as he reached the door. With one slash from one of his short blades, Jabarian cut the back of Moore's knees, while at the same time wrapping a thin cord from within his sleeve around Moore's throat. In an instant the Captain lost his footing, and the cord cut off any potential cry for help.

Paying no attention to Moore's frantic struggles, Shani turned back to Seig.

"Who put you up to this is no great mystery." Shani growled, stopping just in front of Seig, raising his chin so that he met her gaze. "You're working on behalf of General Silver."

Blearily Sieg blinked, his vision fogged. But bit by bit a face appeared, familiar yet different.

"N-Naomi? What... What are you...Doing... here."

Shani glared directly into Sieg's eyes. "My name is not Naomi, it is Shani Chariot."

"Chariot..."

"That's right."

Drawing one of her swords, Shani cut the rope holding Sieg up off the floor.

Sieg cried out as he collapsed. His arms felt like they were on fire, and every part of his body hurt. Gasping for breath he tried to stand, but his legs refused to follow his commands.

"If only you had gone along with my plans." Shani knelt down, stroking Sieg's head as he gasped for breath. "If only you had turned your back on that stupid western girl... we could have ruled Basidian together. I would have made you so happy."

"We shouldn't kill him." Jabarian said, releasing the now lifeless body of Captain Moore. "He is still useful to us, and will help guarantee Conrad's loyalty."

"Don't be foolish, I wasn't intending to kill him." Shani returned her sword to her belt. "Get some men to carry him, we're returning to the mansion."

Jabarian rasied an eyebrow. "We are?"

Shani had to suppress a growl of frustration. Jabarian was an excellent assassin and a peerless killer, but the nuances of military tactics often evaded him.

"The fleet is at anchor, it's beyond Silver's reach. So why launch an attack like this?" Shani gritted her teeth as she spoke. "The Tahl's Victory is meaningless to them, destroying her does nothing but distract us."

Realization flashed across Jabarian's face. "Silver is trying to pull us away from the mansion!"

"And most of our men are with Conrad at the Fortress. We fell right into Silver's trap."

"What do we do?" Jabarian demanded as Shani turned to leave the shed.

"Send a message to Conrad, tell him to break off his attack on the fortress and return to the Manor! In the meantime-"

The wind howled and roared as Shani kicked open the shed door. Her body was momentarily framed by a bolt of lightning that streaked across the sky. "Gather all of our available troops and tell them to prepare for battle! We return to Chariot Manor with all speed!"

===

"What was that?"

Koenig straightened his helmet and turned to his partner, "What was what?"

Keonig's partner, another Chariot house guard named Felix, tilted his head, his ears twitching. "I heard something."

"What?"

"Dunno. Sounded like glass maybe." Felix gestured for Koenig to follow him. "Come on, let's go check it out."

"Come on Felix, we've been down here for hours." Koenig mumbled as he followed along behind his friend, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls of the Chariot Manor's lower levels. "I really need a break."

"I told you not to drink so much before you went on duty."

Koenig shivered and they turned and started descending a winding stair towards the lowest level. "Yeah yeah, but you being right goesn't help my bladder any."

"Look, we'll check it out, then you can go."

"Fine."

The staircase ended at one of the manor's wine cellars. The Chariot family was renowned across Basidian for their wine, and in fact it was their ownership of several large vineyards that afforded them most of their wealth. While there was a smaller cellar dedicated to the vintages reserved for the Chariot family themselves, the much larger supply was kept in the lower levels, in a vast underground room known as 'The Tomb' amongst the guards

"So what are we looking for?" Koenig asked, taking a lantern from the wall and holding it up.

"I don't know, I just thought I heard something." Felix took a lantern of his own. "Come on, we'll check it out, then go grab a bite."

"Gods I hate it down here." Koenig mumbled to himself as he scanned the rows upon rows of bottles, the dark glass shining like insect eyes in the lamplit gloom. The lantern cast very little light through its sooty and stained glass.

The Tomb... The name was as morbid as it was accurate. All through his life, Koenig had heard stories about the Chariot family, and the ruthlessness with which they had dealt with their enemies. He'd also heard that more than a few of those enemies were buried beneath the cellar's dirt floors.

Of course Koenig hadn't actually believed it, not until a clogged drain had led to the cellar flooding four years ago. Koenig had been supervising the cleaning effort, when all of a sudden what he had thought was a rock just below the surface, turned out to be a Basitin skull. He hadn't told anyone of course, not even Felix, but ever since then the cellar had given him the creeps.

Koenig was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the shattered glass on the floor.

"OW!" Koenig jumped back and swore.

"You alright?" Felix's voice echoed from another part of the cellar.

"Yeah, I just stepped on some glass." Wincing, Koenig pulled a shard out of one of the pads on his left foot. As he tossed the shard away, Koenig noticed that there appeared to be several broken bottles on the floor. The dirt was still wet, some of the wine still in dark red puddles.

"What the... Hey Felix!"

There was no answer.

"Felix?" Koenig raised his lantern and looked around, the fur on his back sticking straight up. "Felix? You there?"

Drawing his sword, Koenig made his way towards the direction he'd last heard Felix's voice. A flash of colour to his right drew his attention. As he aimed his lantern he saw Felix, laying flat on the ground, his bright red cloak spread around him.

"Felix!"

"Hello," Came a voice behind him.

Keonig spun around, but before he even had a chance to speak or raise his sword, a massive fist slammed into his jaw and sent his crashing to the ground. For the rest of his days, Koenig would tell his children that it was no Basitin that had struck him, but a massive beast, the likes of which he had never seen before or since.

Brushing off her scuffed knuckles, Alwyn checked to make sure that both of the Chariot guards were well and truly out cold, before returning to the secret panel in the cellar wall.

"All clear, come on through."

As the Hearth Warriors on the other side of the panel started to push, the bottles on the shelf attached to the panel started shaking.

"Careful!" Alwyn hissed "We don't want to attract more attention!"

Slowly, a section of the stone wall swung outwards and Teela emerged from the cramped tunnel beyond.

"I don't know how you fit through there, love." Teela whispered, brushing herself off. "Especially with your armour on!"

"I held my breath."

As the Hearth warriors emerged from the tunnel, Alwyn couldn't help but note what a motley crew they were. Most were wearing armour that was either ill fitting, was of mismatched shape and design, pilfered from all over Basidian and even the mainland. Still, the looks in their eyes told Alwyn all she needed to know, they were ready to fight.

Unlike the other Hearth warriors, Alwyn wore armour that had been specially crafted for her. It was the same plate she had been wearing the day the Hearth had rescued her. Despite the decades that had passed, and aside from a few scuffs and scrapes, Alwyn's armour was still in good condition, though perhaps just a little tighter around her chest and stomach than it had once been.

Looking over the assembled crowd of warriors, Alwyn turned to Teela. "Is this everyone?"

Teela nodded, "Yes."

"Good. Hawk, Hatal, Jenwa, you three stay here and guard this tunnel. If we need to flee, this will be our only escape. And watch those guards. If they start to wake up, hit them again."

"Yes high priestess!"

"The rest of you, follow me." Alwyn turned towards the staircase, drawing her sword from her back. "We attack, and we don't stop until we have the Chariot woman in our hands!"

===

As carefully as she was able, Sara pulled aside the poultice she had applied to Lyon's chest to get a look at the wound beneath.

As with all doctors, Sara worked hard to keep her emotions from registering. No patient wanted to see a worried or surprised look in their physicians face. But despite years of practice, the sight of grey flesh and the smell of decay made her wince.

"That bad huh?" Lyon muttered, managing a half smile.

"You have an infection." Sara replied, gently feeling around the wound. "And for some reason, your body is fighting the medicine."

"My father always said that I had a habit of fighting pointless battles." Lyon replied, managing a half-hearted chuckle. "I regret that I did not pick this one... of my own accord."

"I'm glad you still have a sense of humour." Sara said, forcing a smile. "And do not fear, I'm not giving up yet. I still have some tricks up my sleeve."

Lyon sighed, staring up at the ceiling. His face was pale, dark circles around his dull eyes. He felt weak, weaker than any other time in his life, and though he could still feel his hands, he could no longer feel his legs or his feet.

"I'm sorry." Lyon said at last, fighting past the pain that talking caused him. "For my family... for what they've done to you. If I could stop them... I..."

Sara took one of Lyon's hands and squeezed it gently. "It's alright. Everything will be alright."

The door to Lyon's room opened and Youlan stepped inside, a bundle of bandages in her arms.

As the door closed behind her, Youlan placed the bandages on a nearby table. "I looked everywhere but these were all I could find."

"They'll have to do then. Get to boiling them."

"I also brought some poppy nectar in case he needs it."

Sara waved her hand, "Toss that garbage away, it's the last thing he needs right now. Poppy nectar is good for pain, but it should only be used if the wound is clean."

"Wait... why?"

"It suppresses ones ability to fight infection. That, and it is terrible for your body."

"Fine." Youlan muttered, setting the bottle aside. "Just thought it might be useful."

Sara carefully replaced the poultice back over Lyon's wound. "I need to make a new one," she said softly, patting Lyon on the shoulder. "So don't you go anywhere."

As Youlan approached the bed, she noticed that Lyon's eyes were open.

"He's awake?"

Sara nodded as she set about grinding up some more herbs to make a fresh poultice. "Indeed. He woke up shortly after you left."

Working to raise his head, Lyon met Youlan's gaze. "You... I remember you."

Youlan bowed her head. "I am honoured, Master Chariot."

Sara was surprised to note that there was genuine respect in Youlan's voice.

"Shani... She had me petition... to grant you citizenship..."

"For which I am grateful."

"My sister... she's going to start a war."

"To protect you, and her people."

"We took you in... for mercy's sake, but you have betrayed us."

Youlan took a step back. "W-with respect My lord, I have betrayed no one."

"You do my sisters bidding... and my sister has betrayed all of Basidian." Lyon turned away from Youlan. "You have shamed and dishonoured me."

Youlan paused, uncertain of what to say.

"He's been telling me about his sister's plan." Sara spoke up as she selected another few herbs and set about grinding them up. "Filling in the parts you left blank."

Youlan stiffened, her face turning to a scowl.

Sara raised an eyebrow at Youlan's obvious discomfort. "Don't tell me you aren't proud of this little scheme you are part of. If it wasn't for the fact that it will drench half the world in blood, I'd be impressed."

Youlan raised her chin and scoffed. "Who cares if you're impressed. It's not like it can be stopped anyways."

"Then it would seem you will get your wish." Sara glanced over her shoulder. "By the time this is over, you'll very likely be the last human being on Mekkan."

"That's fine with me." Youlan spat back, folding her arms across her chest. "They renounced me, why shouldn't I renounce them?"

"When you put it like that, there isn't any reason. Though it is a shame."

Youlan rolled her eyes. "What is?"

"That the last human will be one who can't see anything in her people worth saving."

Sara dumped the crushed leafs into a pestle and began working on grinding them into a paste. "Your race will fade away, with only a bitter and angry girl remaining to mark their passing. No art, no music, no history, just one final victim."

"I'm not a victim!" Youlan snapped, storming over and slapping Sara's pestle out of her hand. "Eye for an eye, that's the way the world works! It's fair!"

Youlan braced herself, preparing for Sara to attack her. Instead, Sara simply turned, picked up her pestle, wiped it off, and continued her work.

"Well?" Youlan demanded, "Don't you have anything to say?"

"You don't care what I think."

"I..." Youlan's eyes narrowed and she turned away. "You're damn right I don't care."

"However, I am curious about one thing."

"What?" Youlan sniffed, crossing her arms.

"Why did you not pursue the one who killed your lover? Surely killing him would be an 'eye for an eye'."

"I... He... He was too powerful. If I had tried to fight him, I would have died."

"I see," Sara nodded. "You can't kill him yourself, so you put him in the path of something or someone that can. It's a sound tactic."

"Glad you approve."

"So," Sara paused for a moment and met Youlan's gaze. "For the sake of revenge, just how many lives is one templar worth?"

The question dug into Youlan like a blade. "What do you mean?"

"The Templar. They are your true enemy, aren't they? Surely, if it hadn't been for that brand, all you would have had to do was move to another town and your 'crime' would be unknown. But since the templar marked you, they made anyone who could help you afraid to do so."

Sara's words stung more than Youlan expected. She felt a swelling of anger in her chest, and her fingers twitched. It took considerable control to resist the urge to strike out with magic.

"If you're trying to convince me that my plan is wrong, you're too late," Youlan snapped, forcing herself to sneer despite the sudden confusion whirling in her. "The Chariots are going to start the war that they want. I just gave them the tools they need to get it going."

"Well then there is no harm in answering my question. Hypothetically, how many men, women, and children would you be willing to kill for your revenge."

"I'm not killing anyone!"

"Then this is hardly an 'eye for an eye' then is it?" Sara spoke as if she were amused.

"But, that's not-"

"So which is it? Are you getting revenge, or are you just a bystander?"

"Justice! Not revenge, justice!"

"So you ARE willing to kill."

"Shut up!" Youlan yelled, her head spinning. "Just shut up, you don't know anything!"

"How many would you kill?" Sara demanded, her voice calm despite the hard edge in her tone. "The Templar that killed your lover, how many would you kill to get to him?"

"I'm not killing anyone!"

"Come on human, you can't have it both ways. Are you slaying your demon or aren't you?"

"It is justice!" Youlan stepped backwards. "It is justice! It's what they deserve!"

"Then why are you having such a hard time answering my question?" Sara's voice remained steady, even as Youlan's became little more than a desperate shriek. "How many men, women and children would you butcher for one measly Templar?"

"Shut up!" Youlan raised a hand, her fingers wreathed in blue flame.

Immediately Sara felt the weights on her neck and ankles become far heavier than before. With a furious cry of defiance, Sara planted her feet and braced her arms against the bed frame. She refused to fall, even as she felt as if her whole body was about to crumple like wet paper.

"How... many... would... you... kill!"

"All of them!" Youlan bellowed desperately, the blue flames now racing across her entire body. "I'd kill them all! Is that what you wanted to hear?! I'd kill them all just to have him back!"

"He'll... Never... Come back..." Sara felt her strength beginning to give way, the weight was simply too much. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting for as long as she could. "This... isn't... justice... and you.... know it!"

Sara's knees quaked as she felt herself slipping. Her bones creaked, her muscles started to tear, she couldn't fight it anymore. Then, just as the world started to dissolve amid a hurricane of pain, the weight vanished.

Sara gasped for breath, dropping to one knee. As she opened her eyes and looked up, Youlan was also on her knees, sobbing into her hands.

"What do you want from me!" Youlan cried, her tears falling to the stone floor. "I just want them to pay for what they did! Why can't you understand that?!"

Youlan shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Everyone... they all looked at me like I was a freak! I wanted to tear their judging eyes out, tear their whispering tongues out, but I couldn't! I'm not a monster dammit! I'm not!"

As Sara got to her feet, she noticed that Lyon had managed to get hold of one of the knives and was preparing to throw it at Youlan.

"Give me that." Sara hissed, taking the knife from Lyon's hand. "Shame on you, that won't solve anything!"

"I can't stop hearing it," Youlan moaned, rocking back and forth, "I can't stop hearing him begging for mercy! Every time I close my eyes, I see him staring at me as he died, pleading with me to stop it somehow! He died so afraid, in so much pain, and it's all I can hear, all I can see! I just want it to stop! I just want someone to pay for it! For it to hurt someone else other than me!"

Taking a long, shuddering breath Sara approached Youlan and knelt down in front of her. Youlan stiffened slightly but didn't resist as Sara pulled her into a hug.

"There you go." Sara said softly, stroking Youlan's hair. "It's okay."

"I just... I just want..."

"It's okay to want justice." Sara said quietly, rocking Youlan back and forth. "What they did to you was horrible, it was unforgivable. But burning your entire race to ash, that isn't justice and you know it. It won't make your pain go away, it will just make it worse. You can still make a choice. Nothing is too late."

"What have I done?" Yolan moaned. "What have I done..."

Before Sara could answer, Lyon's bedroom door flew open and Davit stormed in, along with four house guards.

For a moment Sara was frozen in fear, certain that Davit had come for her.

"Secure the room!" Davit ordered, gesturing at his men. "Make certain that Master Chariot is protected!"

"What's happening?" Sara demanded as the guards hustled into the room, hurriedly checking the windows.

"We're under attack." Davit replied, returning his sword to his belt.

"My husband?" Sara asked, unable to hide the hopeful note in her voice

Davit shook his head. "No, someone else. I've sent guards to stop them, but they seem to be cutting through. You are not safe!"

Sara and Youlan were forced to stand up as the guards began pulling Lyon's bed towards the wall furthest from the door.

"Be careful!" Sara protested as Lyon moaned. "Move him too much and he'll die!"

"My men and I will stay here. Stay behind us and don't try to interfere."

"Let... let me help." Youlan said, stepping away from Sara and clutching at the necklace of mana crystals.

"No, you see to Lyon and-"

"I've done all I can for him." Youlan interrupted. She looked back at Sara, "It's in her hands now."

Davit paused for a moment, before nodding, "So be it then. But stay behind me." He drew his sword and turned back towards the doorway, "I'll protect you as best I can."

===

As with most great storms, the typhoon that now battered Basikal had started its life far away from Basidian, on the mainland. Warm moist air rising from the steamy jungles of the tiger lands crashed against the cold dry air that swept down from the surrounding mountains, creating dozens of smaller storms. As they moved out over the equatorial sea, the storms gorged themselves on moisture, growing rapidly in size and power. Finally, the myriad systems combined, creating a single storm that lumbered across the ocean like a great beast.

The typhoon now swept over the island in earnest, with a fury that gave pause even to the hardy warriors of Basikal. Trees swayed and cracked in the unrelenting wind, while wave after wave of frigid rain turned streams into raging torrents, and reduced the roads to treacherous rivers of mud.

As always, regardless of the weather, four guards stood outside of the Chariot Manor's front door. The wind and the blowing rain had left them abjectly miserable, but the guards were diligent as ever, standing at attention with their hands gripping their spears. However, the combination of the howling wind, and the thick oil skin cloaks they wore, significantly dulled their hearing.

A single hand signal was given and there was a sudden flurry of movement. Within moments, all four guards were completely out cold and being whisked away into the shadows.

"Report." Marien demanded as Volfen returned to her position, dragging one of the guards behind him.

Marien, Kent and several others were crouched behind one of several large hedges that decorated the front of the Chariot Estate. The hedge protected them from sight, but did little to protect against the ravages of the storm.

Marien's fur was plastered agaisnt her face by the rain and the wind. A stream of water ran down and dripped off the end of her nose. As with the rest of her soldeirs, Marien was chilled to the bone, every finger and toe numb with cold. But all that mattered was the racing of her heart, the pounding in her ears. Battle, after years of training, years of fighting and struggle, she was finally in a real battle.

Roughly four dozen men and women were arrayed behind Marien, crouching behind bushes, or the wall that surrounded the Chariot estate. The rest of the thirteenth company had been split into two groups, each making their way onto the grounds and spreading out, preparing to hit the Manor from all directions.

As another soldier took hold of the unconcious guard and dragged him away, Volfen turned to Kent and Marien. He had to shout in order to be heard over the wind. "Something is happening inside! There is a lot of movement!"

"Have we been detected?" Kent called out, wincing as a particularly cold blast of wind blew off the hood of his rain cloak.

"No General. They seem to be concentrating their forces in the lower levels."

"What could they be up to?"

Marien turned quickly to Kent, "We don't have time to wait and find out, we need to move in fast! This place is a fortress, secret passages running all over the place, weapons caches, ambush doors. If the guards have time to prepare for an attack, our casualties will be heavy and we'll never be able to smoke them all out."

"Earis's team and Fafner's team should almost be in position!"

Kent nodded, "Fine! We hold until they are in position!"

As they waited, Marien looked back, glancing at her troops as they hid, weapons drawn and hearts hardened.

Roughly half of the thirteenth company were veterans already, usually from companies that had suffered some sort of loss or dishonour, no point in trusting 'real' soldiers to the 'Western Captain'. Marien had spent years forging them, running them through drill after drill, mock battle after mock battle. She'd done everything she could to prepare her troops, and herself, for the sights, sounds and smells of a genuine battle.

What concerned Marien most were the tales she had heard through the years, of sodliers freezing on the battlefield, or getting sick after their first kill. She had killed before, she'd fought her first duel to the death when she was fifteen. The man had not died well. By the time he had finally fallen after a blow to his neck, both Marien and her opponent had suffered half a dozen extremely painful wounds.

After she had recovered, for a time Marien thought that all the stories she had heard from soldeirs about the difficulty they had had with their first kill had been little more than talk. But several days after leaving the hospital wing, she dreamed of her opponent, lying dead before her, his eyes wide and staring at her. It had taken her a full day to stop being sick after that, a full day of Sieg holding her and rocking her back and forth gently stroking her back. The dream still haunted her from time to time, like an ache from a wound long ago scarred over. Now she was sending soldiers into what would be for may of them, their first battle.

"But not their last," Marien swore to herself. "I'm not going to let any of them die!"

From the western side of the mansion, a tiny speck of light from a shielded lantern winked in the darkness.

"Fafner's team is ready!" Volfen reported.

Moments later, another winking light on the other side of the mansion announced the readiness of the second team.

"That's the signal from Earis! We're ready to go!" Volfen turned to Marien. "Awaiting your order Captain!"

"Alright!" Climbing to her feet, Marien drew her sword. Raising her sword over her head, Marien bellowed, in a voice that even the typhoon could not dampen, "Thirteenth Company! Attack!"

===

Alwyn let out a ferocious bellow as she lifted a Chariot guard off the ground by the front of his armour and threw him down the hall at a trio of his comrades. All three fell to the ground as their comrade crashed into them.

The guard Alwyn had thrown was still while the other three frantically tried to disentangle themselves. Before the guards could get back to their feet, Alwyn was upon them.

The first guard was struck hard, his helmet partially caved in by Alwyn's blade as the force of her blow sent him crashing into a wall. The second let out a cry of terror as Alwyn rounded on him, her eyes shining with rage and battle lust. The man tried to take a swing at Alwyn, but she easily countered his blow, nearly tearing his sword from his hand. Before he could recover, Alwyn reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and threw him behind her.

The guard crashed to the floor and rolled to a stop at Teela's feet, his helmet coming free from his head and bouncing away.

"Sorry." Teela said, wincing as she struck the guard with the butt of her spear, knocking him out cold.

The third guard was more agile than her comrades, and was able to step back and out of reach of Alwyn's first swing.

"Filthy barbarian!" She shouted, lunging forward and aiming a thrust at Alwyn's midsection.

Alwyn turned to evade the blow, but the guard switched hands mid thrust and drove her knife through a gap in Alwyn's armour, just below her breast plate. The blade did not cut deep, but it did reach Alwyn's flesh.

Alwyn let out a howl of pain before barreling forward and grappleing with the guard, lifitng her off the ground before slamming her down on her back.

The guard bared her teeth and tried to stab Alwyn again, but Alwyn caught her wrist. Snapping the guards wrist with a single twist, Alwyn tore the guard's dagger from her hand, flipped it around and drove it straight through her chest plate and into her heart.

"Not as much fun when it is your territory that's being invaded, is it?" Alwyn snarled as the guard stared wide eyed at her, The guard didn't answer, she simply drew a final breath, and then went still.

As Alwyn climbed back to her feet, a trio of guards with crossbows reached the bottom of the staircase at the end of the hall.

"Love!" Teela cried out as the archers drew back their strings, aiming at Alwyn.

"Fire!"

As the guards loosed their arrows, Alwyn siezed the body of the fallen guard at her feet and raised her like a shield. Two of the bolts slammed into the guard, while the third whipped past Awlyns left ear.

Dropping the guard to the ground, Alwyn made ready to charge. But before she could take a step she heard a cry behind her. The entire world froze as she looked over her shoulder and saw that the bolt that had gone past her had struck Teela in the chest. Teela stumbled and fell onto her back.

As Alwyn simply stood and stared at Teela, another four chariot warriors, soldiers as opposed to guards, arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

"Give us time to reload!" One of the guards cried out as he hurriedly pulled at his crossbow's crank.

Drawing their weapons, the four soldiers charged. Their swords were held high, battle cries echoing through the hall. But the moment Alwyn turned to them, all four skidded to a stop.

Every strand of fur on Alwyn's body stood straight up, and despite the stillness of the air, her hair billowed as if it were in a strong wind. The leather wrapped handle of her great sword squealed as her grip tightened, the metal actually warping beneath her fingers.. Her armour rippled, the metal straining and twisting under some strange force emanating from Alwyn's body. But what truly stopped the guards were her eyes, glowing golden pupils surrounded by crimson red.

One of the soldiers, the bravest or perhaps the most foolish, resumed his charge with a cry. Motionlessly, Alwyn let him come.

The soldier aimed a slash at Alwyn's neck. Her movements were a blur as she titled her head to the side, dodging the blade, before grabbing hold of it with her bare hand. Despite its razor sharp edge, the blade did little beyond breaking the top layer of Alwyn's skin.

The soldier tried to move his sword, but Alwyn's grip was like iron. The soldier released his sword and took a terrified step back as Alwyn glared down at him.

Flipping the guard's sword around in her hand, Alwyn charged.

End of Part 23

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