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I remember very much enjoying writing the excerpt below. Here Aubrey's full skills come into deadly focus as she, Kaza, and a slave named Tray try to escape from the Imperial warship they've been imprisoned on, and where they face imminent execution.
Enjoy!
~~*~~
—Fog, Kaza!—
Aubrey.
"What the hell is going on?" he repeated. "Answer me!"
—Stand back.—
She hurried hastily back, as did Kaza and Tray. It was difficult not to fall over backwards.
She lowered her arms.
The door abruptly bent inwards, then exploded.
The guards who had brutally beaten Tray stood under the doorjamb, swords raised. One marched in towards Kaza, who said, "Whoa!"and shuffled back as fast as he could—
—He's going to free you and Tray. Just stand there.—
The Gyssian sheathed his broadsword, then kneeled at Kaza's knee and unlocked his ankle clasps, then stood and did the same with his wrist clasps and the restraining belt that chained the entire assembly together. Finished, he moved to free Tray. The other guard stood facing away, at the door, his sword raised as though anticipating battle.
Aubrey: —Arm them.—
The guard under the doorjamb reached to his left, turned and handed Aubrey two broadswords, which she handed to Kaza and Tray.
To the guards she said: —Your will is mine. You would rather die than see us harmed in any way. Defend us!—
That girlish Voice held nothing but bloody resolve in it. It was the same one Kaza heard as she stood under a dead, hanging, and mutilated Malias.
—The Arilyceum is out there, Kaza, just behind us. I saw fog … and then I saw it. It followed you all this way, Storyteller. But I've also sensed the Lord Emperor. He's on his way back from Prince Trajan's flagship. This is our only chance. If we want to live even another five minutes we must get off this ship any way we can—NOW!—
Tray must have heard her too, because he raised his sword in a way that had not an ounce of meekness in it.
The Gyssians led them out of the room, motioning for them to follow into the corridor only after checking to see that it was clear first.
—We've only got a couple minutes before the Horg Audience recover from the vision. I couldn't have overcome their minds without you, Kaza.—
Kaza barely heard what she said. His attention was on the broadsword in his grip, on the cold silver-metal hilt. He had never used a sword before; he had no training with one.
But he would have to use this one, and expertly, if he was to get back to—the Ari?
The Ari? Really? She had followed him here? How was that possible?
And just how powerful was Aubrey, anyway? Timalan had called her formidable. The word seemed almost inadequate.
Behind the guards, they ran up the corridor. At the stairs a sailor suddenly emerged. The right guard swiped viciously across his body, and the head of the man spun off his shoulders to a dull wet thud, followed by the body, the neck spouting blood over the wood floor.
Up the stairs. At the top the guards exploded in sudden and silent fury, swinging their blades with ferocious determination at hapless crew standing in the way. There were immediate yells, orders to cease, cries for help—
Aubrey was up next. —Kaza! Tray! Move! Move! Move!—
Tray muscled his way past him, leaping the final stairs three at a time, his face dark with rage, as though he had waited for this opportunity his entire life and wasn't about to pass it up. Kaza gained the landing as more shouts sounded out on the top deck. Sailors were unsheathing weapons and approaching from the sides—the booted approach of many men behind—
—Behind! Kaza turned and lunged just as one leaped over the high railing of the bridge. His blade caught the soldier in the neck just under the chin, and the man hung there for a grisly moment, his lifeblood pulsing over the blade. Kaza yanked it back and turned away, not watching the body fall at his feet; he cast wildly about for Aubrey and Tray, who had disappeared in the commotion.
Bearings! He was near the stern of the boat, just a dozen or so running steps away from the railing. The guards were fighting like demons. Five or more men lay dead or dying at their feet. And Tray—!
Tray stood with them, between them, screaming like a crazed homicidal maniac, felling oncoming attackers just as quickly as the pair to his sides, both hands on the hilt of his sword, the blade lacquered to the hilt in blood. He swiped with an arcing wildness that belied cold, calculated singlemindedness. He spied Kaza, lunatic eyes, and raged, "BEHIN' YOU'S, MASTER KAZA!"
Kaza turned to watch a bowman aiming a crossbow at his head, nearly point-blank range.
The bowman's eyes suddenly shifted away, going vacant in the same tiny instant that he turned on his heel and fired at his own fellows. The arrow streaked into the eye of the closest; the others tripped over his collapsing body. A half-second bought.
Aubrey was suddenly there, right next to him. She spun in place while flicking wicked talons out through her veil as though ridding herself of pesky clinging insects—and soldiers closing the circle around them would suddenly go blank-eyed and limp, or turn and gore their own, or fall on their blades or stab themselves with their arrows.~~*~~
Thank you for reading!
