Soul of the Fire

The woman seized Beata's outfit at the shoulder and hauled her to her feet. "Get your people out of here. Get them out now!"

"What? Fitch is right. You are-"

She thrust her arm out, pointing. "Look, you fool!"

The special Anderith guards were coming toward them, chatting among themselves. "Those are our men. They're nothing to worry-"

"Get your people out of here right now, or you will all die."

Beata huffed at being ordered about by some crazy woman treating her like a child. She called over to Corporal Marie Fauvel, not twenty feet away as she was walking out to see what the commotion was all about.

"Corporal Fauvel," Beata called out.

"Yes, Sergeant?" the Ander woman asked.

"Have those men wait there until we get this settled." Beata put her fists on her hips as she turned to the woman in red.

"Satisfied?"

The woman ground her teeth and grabbed Beata's shoulder again. "You little fool! Get you and your other children moving right now or you will all die!"

Beata was getting angry. "I'm an officer in the Anderith army, and those men…” Beata turned to point.

Marie Fauvel stepped in front of the men, held up a hand, and told them they would have to wait.

One of the three unceremoniously drew his sword and swung it with casual, but frightening, power. Accompanied by the sickening thwack of blade hitting bone, it cut Marie clean in half.

Beata stood stupefied, not really believing what she was seeing.

Working for a butcher, she'd seen so much slaughtering it hardly ever warranted a second look. She'd cleaned the guts from so many different animals that seeing guts seemed to her just a natural thing. Guts didn't appall Beata in the least.

Seeing Marie there on the ground, with her guts spilling out of her top half, in one way seemed only a curiosity, a human animal's guts so similar to other animals', but human.

Marie Fauvel, separated from her hips and legs, gasped, clutching at the grass, her eyes wide as her brain tried to comprehend the shock of what had just happened to her body.

It was so dauntingly horrifying Beata couldn't move.

Marie pulled at the grass, trying to drag herself away from the men, toward Beata. Her lips moved, but no words came out, just low, hoarse grunts. Her fingers lost their power. She slumped, twitching like a freshly butchered sheep.

Up on the Dominie Dirtch, both Estelle and Emmeline screamed.

Beata pulled free her sword, holding it aloft for all to see. "Soldiers! Attack!"

Beata checked the men. They were still coming.

They were grinning.

And then the world turned truly mad.

CHAPTER 64

Morris rushed forward, like they'd been trained, going for the legs of one man. The man kicked Norris in the face. Norris fell back, holding his face, blood running out through his fingers. The man picked up Morris's fallen sword and plunged it through his gut, pinning Norris to the ground, leaving him to squirm in screaming agony, to shred his fingers on the sharp blade.

Karl and Bryce were rushing in with weapons drawn. Carine charged out of the barracks with a spear. Annette was right behind her with another.

Beata felt a surge of conviction. The men were going to be surrounded. Her soldiers were trained for combat. They could handle three men.

"Sergeant!" the woman in red called. "Get back!" Beata was terrified, but she still felt annoyed by the woman, who obviously didn't know the first thing about soldiering. Beata was also ashamed for the woman's cowardice. Beata and her soldiers would stand and fight-they would protect the worthless woman in red, who feared to stand up to a mere three of the enemy.

Fitch, too, Beata was proud to note, rushed forward with his prize sword, ready to fight.

As they all rushed in, only the man who had cut down Marie even had his sword out. The other two still had their weapons sheathed. She was furious that they would take Beata's squad so lightly.

Beata, better accustomed to stabbing meat with a blade than were the rest of her squad, confidently went for a man. She didn't see how, but he effortlessly dodged her.

Startled, she realized that this was not at all like stabbing straw men, or carcasses hanging from a hook.

As Beata's blade caught only air, Annette rushed up to stab him in the leg from behind. He sidestepped Annette; too, but caught her by her red hair. He pulled a knife and in an easy, slow manner, as he smiled wickedly into Beata's eyes, slit Annette's throat as if he were butchering a hog.

Another man caught Carine's spear, snapped it in half with one hand, and rammed the barbed point in her gut.

Karl swung his sword low at the man Beata missed, trying to hamstring him, and got his face kicked, instead. The man swung his sword down at Karl. Beata sprang forward and blocked his strike.

The power of the ringing blow of steel against steel hammered her weapon from her hand. Her hands stung so much she couldn't flex her unfeeling fingers. She realized she was on her knees.