Gunz by William Stacey

Author:William Stacey [Stacey, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bastard Sword Press
Published: 2018-02-13T07:00:00+00:00

THE KELPIES, several hundred of the night-black beasts, moved about near the riverbank, ducking their black heads beneath the water to chew upon the vegetation that grew on the riverbank. One of the closest of the four-legged water fiends raised its forehead, water dripping from its muzzle, and watched Horlastia with red, hateful eyes. It hated her, she knew, as they hated females of any species. None knew why. Kelpies were dangerous in the wild, but these had been tamed … more or less. On occasion, they still bit the odd finger of the hand that fed them. She turned her attention back to Cavalry Commander Feld, the officer commanding the kelpie cavalry, a minor noble and a bit of an obsequious chattering fool. "And you will be ready this night?" she demanded. "You understand what's required of you?"

The fae seelie warrior nodded. "We'll have the mounts saddled within the hour, my General. Thank you for this honor."

She turned to go but paused and looked back over her shoulder. "Remember, seize the main road. Let none get past. If my prey slips the trap, you will be a long time dying."

"None shall get past us, my General. I swear it on my life."

"You do," she said as she walked away.

She brushed past cavalry warriors practically bursting with excitement as they prepared to go into action for the first time. All the riders were fae seelie warriors and all male. Time to spring the trap, she mused with satisfaction.

She picked up her pace, storming through the army's tent lines, her warriors bowing in respect. Minutes later, she entered the temporary wyvern pen erected next to the strange manling diamond-shaped field with the well-maintained lawn, high wire fence, and benches for spectators—no doubt a gladiator arena of some type. Three mail-clad mage-wardens, her fellow Black Circle initiates, knelt on one knee, their heads lowered respectfully. Behind them, jostling about with pent-up energy, were four large wyverns, including her alpha beast, much larger than the others. In fact, it was the second-largest wyvern that had ever been tamed. Tlathia's had been larger, but the same night she had betrayed them, the wyvern had broken its bonds and escaped, as if it had understood its master was gone now and with her any need to serve others.

Pity—she would have been quite happy to set it afire.

Ulfir trailed behind her, without his manticore. Even her wyvern wasn't strong enough to carry its weight—not that it would try. "You're sure these three are up to the task?" Ulfir asked contemptuously, tossing his head at the three mage-wardens.

The women rose, glaring at Ulfir. Faltoria Wind-Sworn stepped forward, her hand against her armored breast. Tall and heavily muscled, with her head shaved completely bald so that even her eyelashes were gone, Faltoria was a master of both the saber and fire spells, almost the equal of Horlastia herself. "We do not fear the heretic, my General."

Ulfir snorted. "You should."

Next was Helandia, eldest daughter of House Forswallen, a noble-born family that could trace its roots to the beginning of the empire.

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