Jewel of Persia by White Roseanna M

Author:White, Roseanna M. [White, Roseanna M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction & Literature
ISBN: 9780976544487
Publisher: WhiteFire Publishing
Published: 2010-12-29T07:00:00+00:00

~*~

Malis, Trachis

Kasia stood on the hill, hidden from Xerxes’ view though her eyes were locked on the same scene his were. She should have stayed in her tent, but she could not. Her spirit would not rest until she could see the battle boiling in the pass.

So this was war. Proud uniforms bloodied and ripped, sharpened weapons slashing and piercing. Cries of horror and rage, of pride and fear. Men trampled by their brethren, some falling into the sea at the bottom of the cliff. This was what her brother had yearned for?

She forced down bile and curled her fingers to her palm. Her soul stretched outward, upward, and she had to lock her knees to keep them from bending. Lord Jehovah, rally your servants in Persia. Let them take to their knees where I cannot, that all our voices might be as one and provide a beacon for your angels.

The Spartans had chosen their stand too well. In the narrow valley pass, number mattered little. Only a few of the vast sea of Medes and Cissians could surge forward, and they were met with unimaginable ferocity.

She winced when yet more of her husband’s men staggered and fell. Was there no way to get around the Spartans’ longer spears?

Even as she wondered, the Lacedaemonians spun as a unit and fled back toward the walls erected in the narrowest part of the pass. Her heart lurched, her hand lifted to her throat. It could not be so easy, they had no reason to flee. She had not spotted a single Spartan falling. Perhaps the numbers of their enemies had intimidated them?

No, it made no sense. No sense at all.

The Medes pursued, their victorious cry echoing down to her ears. They gained on their prey, drew closer and closer—

The Spartans pivoted and crouched, spears parallel to the ground. Xerxes sprang from his seat with a heart-wrenching curse as his front line ran straight into the unforgiving points.

Kasia winced but could not look away. A few spears flew from the hands of the Medes and found their targets. She counted three fallen Spartans. Three of the three hundred who once again loosed a terrifying scream and came at the Medes.

Her husband cursed again and shoved agitated fingers through his hair. “All these troops—where are the men?” He pointed a finger at one of his commanders. “Take in the Immortals.”

Her jaw quivered. Could even the most elite fighting men gain any ground against this particular foe? Or would they fall as quickly as the Medes and Cissians?

The commander dashed away, and moments later the Immortals, already in formation, marched on the pass.

Her eyes slid shut. If Zechariah had managed to join the army, he likely would have been an Immortal. He was that skilled—she had snuck away a few times to watch him train with Bijan.

Bijan. He was marching toward death even now. Her brother’s one Persian friend. She had never known him much, but now fear for him burrowed into her heart. She had to pray.

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