Sabit pulled herself to her feet, even as her body trembled in agony with every movement. The clarity of vision bestowed by the necklace’s pinprick faded as she stood. A veil fell across her sight—of every color and none at all. The clangor of the battle resounded from far-off and within her ear itself. The scent of blood and death and defeat were thick in her nose.
The aftertaste of Regida’s bitter herbs was everywhere.
Looking up, Sabit saw Junjai troops–numberless as locusts–covering the rampart. The swords and shields and mandibles put a swift and bloody end to the scattered farmers and bandits falling over one another to escape the slaughter this battle had become. The vulture of death feasted–fat and exultant–its blood-stained wings rising to shade the battlefield like a cloud.
The captain of Jujai, her armor burning like a furnace, climbed down from the spot on the rampart where Sabit had stood to command her troops. The Bandit Queen could feel hot blood in her mouth, but all she could taste were the bitter tang of the herbs. Two soldiers pulled old Verdandi away from the wounded head-woman Htet, her shrieks echoing in Sabit’s ears like the taunting of the dead.
Nearby, Regida stood unaccosted, hiding her face as chaos and ruin swirled around her. Her hair blossomed with strands of the same bitter herbs that lurched in Sabit’s gut.
The captain handed Kehnan something long and pale. The big warrior held one hand clamped to his cheek, bright blood flowing over his fingers like the war-paint of victory.
The ground lurched under Sabit’s feet. She dropped to one knee to keep from falling. Where was Nerit? What had befallen him? What had befallen all of her people because of her leadership?
Those questions hung on Sabit’s limbs like stones. She could no more lift her arms than she could rescue her troops from death’s hungry maw.
Kehnan stepped forward, Sabit’s own spear in his right hand. “Oh, Sabit.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his words the greenish hue of sickness and lies. “I have always celebrated your victories at your side. It’s only right that I celebrate your final defeat above you.”
With the speed and fury of a thousand humiliations, he swung Sabit’s spear. The blunt spear-butt struck the side of her face. Pain exploded through her, white-hot and ringing, consuming everything. The Bandit Queen slumped into the dirt and did not move as the last of her people’s screams died away to the silence of defeat.
—END—
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Wayfarings of Sabit: Betrayal is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every Thursday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon, https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller, or at http://ipressgames.com/fiction/.