Page 110 of Queen’s Gambit

It didn’t make sense. My muscles spasmed as I forced myself to stop, to think amid this mindless slaughter. After several laborious breaths, I heard my dragon.

Stop killing yourself. She’s here, Cinared roared in my mind, clearing the rest of the haze. My cuts, bruises and… I winced… the broken bones, clamoured for my attention, bringing me to my knees. I had to use my sword to keep myself upright, gripping the pommel as I scanned those around me.

There she was, a miracle coated in emerald fire. My Viper rode her bies while monsters swarmed around her, tearing down anyone in Tangrian colours. My breath caught in my throat, and when I could exhale, a sob broke free, leaving me trembling.

Hope was a bitch that bit my sides, but I welcomed her whispers that all wasn’t lost.

‘Roksana!’ I shouted, then grasped the stirrup of a panicked horse galloping past me. The animal reared, the dead body in its saddle falling and bouncing off the ground. I grasped the reins and yanked it under control. One swift slice and the stirrup fell to the ground, freeing the corpse. I couldn’t help him. The arrow through his eye had killed him, but now I could lead my army again.

I jumped on the horse. The battle erupted anew as if their Queen’s arrival invigorated my men. Orcish drums picked up a beat. It hammered in my veins as bloody water sprayed up from under the horse’s hooves. We galloped towards Roksana at breakneck speed.

Roksana turned, her eyes widening when she spotted me. The bies stepped back and lowered his antlers. My body, mangled by battle and Wild Magic alike, must have looked threatening, unrecognisable.

Fear tightened my chest, but there was no stopping now. I could only pray that the woman I loved could still distinguish the man beneath the beast.

Cin, tell her I’m me. That I’m in control, I pleaded into the bond.

A frown marred her forehead, and I couldn’t tell whether it was repulsion or surprise. Or fear…

She’s leading an army of monsters. Why would she fear you? My dragon’s voice filled my mind. Then it faded into nothingness at the sight of Roksana’s smile. Her power grew, spreading out, surrounding me and drawing me closer. Sana’s wings snapped open, their iridescent surface gleaming in the moonlight, despite the blood covering them.

She was magnificent. She was terrifying. My Queen. My life.

‘Rey,’ Sana whispered when my horse reared in front of the bies. I barely noticed. Roksana was already in my arms, our lips colliding in a short, brutal kiss. Power flooded my body. The exhaustion was gone after one agonising spasm set my body right. The pain broke the kiss, and I looked down. The cut on my arm was still there, the exposed tissue gaping while Sana’s magic filled it like water.

‘Get your monsters and relieve Ivar at the shore,’ I said when I caught my breath. ‘Protect my back while I rally the men and attack the Hierophant’s army.’

Defiance ghosted across her face as she readied her argument. Then she smiled, bowing her head. ‘Yes, Sire,’ she said with a smirk, then turned her beast and rushed towards the shore.

‘I love you like the dawn after battle, my Sanika,’ I whispered as she rode away.

Those two simple words replayed in my mind. I promised myself right then. If I won this fucking war, I’d take them for my reward, to be repeated after every kiss as I worshipped her.

If nothing else, this was the perfect reason to slaughter the Hierophant’s men.

I turned, grinning when I saw the sergeant still standing. He was swaying, exhausted, but alive. I clapped him on the shoulder, stole his trumpet and blew the rallying cry. Within moments, I was surrounded by weary, wounded soldiers, each one with hope and determination in their eyes.

The whisper of Roksana’s voice swirled around me, carried by the wind. The monsters turned as one, heading toward the shore and Ivar’s beleaguered force.

I ordered my veterans to form a flying wedge, a formation that would sink into the core of Tangra’s position like a battering ram. In the distance, the dragons of Ozar filled the bay with fire, challenging the galleons in a battle between air and sea. Even though the ships’ attacks had slowed, more dragons fell to a watery grave.

The dragons turned and flew away. Then thunder split the sky, Vahin’s lightning igniting the srebrec. One, two, three. The lightning bolts marked the minutes that trickled like aeons. Three galleons were already burning, and over the rest, the waves were rising, crushing the decks as if the sea itself took revenge.

With the thunder of hooves, the heavy cavalry, pride of Dagome, charged onto the field.

Only half had survived, but it would be enough. I pointed north, where rows of soldiers in orange tabards trudged down the hill, marching into battle.

Atop the hill was the Hierophant. The banner, its golden thread gleaming in the firelight, announced his position. Below were the sacrificial pyres, some lit, others smouldering ruins. They were positioned in front of the army. All except one. This one didn’t hold a captured, terrified peasant, but a Tangrian soldier. His orange tabard was stained with blood, his arms raised above his head. His hands were wrapped in rags and burning like a torch.

The Prefect of Tangra wasn’t a sacrifice, but a warning.

I had no reason to pity the man, but everything inside me protested the foulness of his torment.

The cavalry was waiting beside us, and I nudged my horse forward, riding side by side with Ivar before I gave the command.

‘Charge!’

Horns announced my order. The Dagome counterattack had begun.