Terminus by Tristan Palmgren

Author:Tristan Palmgren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: space opera, Science Fiction
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2018-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

Fia should not have gotten away with it. Should not have been getting away with it.

But for once her doubts did not win the world over.

Her charge trampled Hawkwood’s lines. She bowled over a pikeman who’d run out of formation, slashed a crossbowman before he could drop his spent crossbow and grab his sword. From atop her armored courser, she might as well have been atop the clouds. There were no cavalry around to dispute her. The crossbowmen who hadn’t spent their bolts yet couldn’t take aim this close.

This was expected. She had found a weak point, a moment of opportunity. She had expected a swift reaction. Hawkwood had plenty enough of his own cavalry to ride in and force a retreat. But the counterstrike never came.

Even without her baton, she had command of the field.

The screaming in her head faded, leaving only a fading impression, a long echo. There were no longer any clocks ticking. The sound had been with her so long that she had stopped hearing it. Pain pulsed through her head. It was intermittent, but sharp enough that she wondered if the lightning was real – if she had been knocked on the head or was suffering a stroke.

Even in the middle of battle, though, she saw men turn to watch the sky. More than one of whom she cut down while they were doing it.

She had trouble thinking straight, but so did most of the enemy she faced. They were running, tumultuously, away from the chaos. Her own men had lost their order, too. The nearest of the company’s banners was so far that she couldn’t see it but as a splash of color.

She had not realized how deeply into enemy lines she had driven. She saw swords everywhere, but none flashing at her. She could not stop. She had to drive farther, and deeper. Faster. It was like being washed away in a current.

Before she realized what was happening, she broke free. Her courser galloped into a vacuum of men like a clearing in the forest. She saw the sun. Suns. There were two. She raised her hand.

When her fingers blotted out the light, she saw the shape underneath one of them: a spider, tearing across the sky. It was halfway to the horizon before she realized she was seeing anything at all. It was multifaceted. From this angle, it looked like a hawk. It shrank to a sparrow.

Then it was gone. It left a curvilinear white cloud behind it. The sky growled, deep-voiced. Thunder, at last. It lagged behind the creature as it ripped across the sky.

Her courser kept its composure. It did not seem to care what was happening. It rolled its nose back to her, impatient for her to stop gawking.

Hawkwood’s reinforcements should have reached her, crushed her, but they weren’t coming. His men continued to fall back. His formation broke. And his wasn’t the only one.

Her baton was lost somewhere in the scrum. She could not have directed this chaos anyway.

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