Savage Messiah

She was about to speak to Scars when she saw a female Minion healer approach. The white feather of her craft stood out proudly on her black body armor. She came to stand at attention.

"Permission to speak?" she asked. Tyra

"I have just tended to the princess," the healer said. "Her wound will heal. She will remain dizzy for another day or two, but she should suffer no lasting effects. I have given her something for the pain. I suggest she remain in bed until tomorrow."

"Very well," Tyra

"I want that damage report as soon as I can get it," she said to Scars.

"We need as much speed and maneuverability out of this wallowing whale as she can muster."

Scars nodded. "We will do all we can, Captain," he said.

Tyra

When Scars was gone, Tyra

Hearing the familiar sound of Minion wings, she looked up to see a party of six warriors leaving the deck. They flew in the shape of an arrowhead, with K'jarr at the lead. After circling the ship once, they turned southeast.

Tyra

She looked with sadness down the length of her mangled flagship, thinking about her mission. Its begi

CHAPTER XXXV

Surrounded by fighting and screaming, Duvessa knew that she was close to defeat. Her muscles burned and sweat dripped maddeningly down her face, threatening to obscure her vision. It was just before dawn, and the glow from the torches surrounding the battle sent their shadows dancing eerily across the uneven killing ground. She knew better than to risk trying to see how her allies were faring. One mistake like that could cost her dearly.

Just as her enemy's sword came whistling around again, Duvessa raised her dreggan high and parried the strike vertically. The blades of the two weapons clanged together with such force that sparks flew. Summoning all of her strength, she turned and slid the edge of her blade down along her opponent's, forcing his guard down. Sensing an opening, she pointed her sword toward her enemy's throat and lunged forward.

With a wicked smile her opponent stepped to one side, banging his blade down upon her weapon with everything he had. He stamped down upon her sword blade, pi

Kicking her dreggan away, her enemy whirled around behind her. He kicked her viciously in the back. Thrown face down into the dirt, she tried desperately to think.

"Kneel," the harsh voice commanded.

She had no choice but to obey. As she came to her knees, she dragged her right palm across the ground, filling her hand with dirt. She knew the killing blow would come any moment now.

Holding her hands at her sides, she forced herself to look up into her killer's eyes. With another smile he raised his sword high, its blade glinting briefly in the torchlight. Duvessa held her breath.

Just as the sword reached its apex she rolled to one side, throwing the dirt into his face. He cried out, and she pulled her dagger from its sheath.

She came to her feet and ran behind him. Grabbing his hair with her free hand she yanked his head back and pulled the blade of her dagger across his throat.

"Enough!" the Minion head instructor shouted.

At his sharp command, all of the warriors stopped fighting. Their chests heaving, they lowered the points of their dreggans to the dirt. Duvessa wearily recovered her weapon.

"You're learning!" the instructor shouted to the group at large. "But each of you has a long way to go before you can claim the rite of ascension. That is why we train as realistically as possible. Remember, only fully realized death blows are not permitted."

The instructor's name was Baltasar. Walking over to Duvessa, he smiled at her.

"Well done," he said. "Any trick that helps you stay alive is by definition a good one. Still, a Minion warrior should never find herself on her knees. With practice, your hands will become accustomed to retaining your weapon as it is struck by another. Even so, I must applaud your resourcefulness."

Duvessa gave him a slight bow. "Thank you," she answered.

Baltasar gave her a reassuring look. "I know that being chosen by the Jin'Sai to lead this new group of female warriors is a heavy burden," he said quietly. "I also realize that each of you is eager to prove herself. And being Traax's mate means that you-even more than the others-shall have a great deal to live up to. You must be the best of them. That is why I push you so hard."

"I understand," she answered.

Baltasar pointed to the white feather emblazoned on the chest of her body armor. "If you become as good a fighter as you are a healer, I think this new force shall be in very capable hands."

After giving her another brief smile, he turned to speak to some of the other female candidates about their progress. At the same time the male Minion warriors they had been sparring with offered their guidance, as well.

Duvessa looked over at the warrior she had just bested. He was still trying to clear the dirt from his eyes. She sheathed her dreggan. Taking a cloth from beneath her armor, she told him to look up at the stars. She gently wiped away the dirt.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he answered. "You won, and that is what matters. Serves me right for assuming that you had given up! Like Baltasar said, any device that keeps you alive in combat is a good one. Had you really meant business with your dagger, I would be watering the ground with my blood."

After giving the warrior a respectful nod, Duvessa went to sit down upon a nearby stone wall and rest.

This area and several others like it had been turned over to the advanced martial training of female warriors. Since the unexpected order had come from the Jin'Sai, hundreds had volunteered. For the last several days the instructors had rousted the recruits from their beds several hours before dawn. Then had come the training lectures, followed by the grueling hours of live practice. They had not complained.

She knew that they weren't ready for their rites of ascension. She also knew that not a single woman who had volunteered for these special phalanxes would give up until she had completed the course.

Looking wearily out over the training field, Duvessa understood how much every woman here aspired to wear the red feather-and serve under her command. It would be a heavy responsibility, but one that she welcomed.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see Abbey until the herbmistress was standing right in front of her.

Abbey sat down on the stone wall. During her time here at the palace, Duvessa had come to like Abbey very much, and to respect the talents of the kindly partial adept. As she looked at her now, she could see that the herbmistress was concerned.

"What is it?" Duvessa asked. She immediately thought of Traax.

"Has there been word from Tyra

Abbey shook her head. "Not that I know of," she answered. "Faegan wishes to see you, me, and Adrian in the Redoubt. He told me that it is important." She gave Duvessa a short smile. "I'm afraid your breakfast will have to wait."