Page 61 of The Book That Held Her Heart

Clovis drew her sword. A muted gasp ran through the closest fringes of the thinning crowd. She walked towards Arpix. “Did they bring you here to kill you?”

Arpix hesitated. He looked as if his mind were furiously hunting for some answer that might avoid what was going to follow. He nodded, pale-faced.

“Who the fuck are you?” the huge canith demanded.

The closest of the two executioners unhitched the iron-bound club from his belt.

Clovis closed most of the gap between her and Arpix in four unhurried strides, ignoring the barked command to stop. Her body still trembled, but that had nothing to do with the threat in front of her, just the one that had now passed.

Before coming close enough to swing, Clovis thrust her sword tip between two flagstones so that it remained standing when she withdrew her hand.

“Is she mad?” the big canith asked, coming to the shoulder of the fancy soldier holding Arpix.

Both executioners were approaching from behind with their clubs at theready. The rest of the big canith’s patrol were standing a few yards away, confused.

“This is Private Hadd,” Arpix said, still pale, eyes wide. “He’s having a bad day. Don’t kill him.”

Both Hadd and the big canith burst out laughing at that. Clovis launched herself forward and upward, setting her hands to the big canith’s shoulders, and driving her knee into his face as she vaulted. She rode him down when he fell, stretching out an arm to catch hold of Hadd’s forehead and topple him backwards, driving his head down onto the flagstones.

She was among the six-strong patrol before they knew it, her body scything the legs from beneath the two leading canith, surging up to drive stiff fingers into the eyes of the second pair, and lunging between them as they staggered. Her lunge brought her to the two human soldiers, whose hands were only now closing around the hilts of their sabres. She slammed their heads together.

Clovis stood, kicking the back of one of the blinded canith’s knees. The joint crunched and he collapsed to the ground clutching it. She straightened, rolled her neck, and eyed the approaching executioners over the front pair now starting to stand.

A side kick to the stomach folded the other blinded canith in half. She caught the muzzle of the first canith’s ’stick as he tried to point it at her. The thing roared, spitting its projectile over their heads with a cloud of smoke. Clovis twisted it from his grasp, breaking at least one finger, and slammed the stock into the face of his companion.

The executioners came in swinging. Clovis ducked beneath one blow, blocked the other on the ’stick, then felled both opponents with a flurry of punches and kicks targeting face, throat, groin, and knees.

Leaving them groaning on the ground, she walked back over the big canith’s motionless body and kicked teeth from Hadd’s mouth as he struggled to rise. She met Arpix’s eyes as she passed him. “Keep low.”

She pulled her sword free and turned to face her opponents. One of the humans had a thicker skull than she’d imagined and stood, dazed, blood sheeting down her face from a scalp wound, ’stick wandering but pointed generally in Clovis’s direction.

“Take your shot,” Clovis called, her gaze narrowing to the finger thewoman had on the weapon’s trigger. “But I will killeveryoneif you do. Or, I can just walk off with this man, and you can go on with your lives.”

Clovis waited. She should have killed them all already. She knew that. It had been a strange combination of anger, relief, hubris, and the desire not to disappoint Arpix that had made her leave her sword behind.

The woman’s aim swayed, and for a moment she started to lower her weapon. But as the broken-fingered canith gained his feet, and another, with one eye screwed shut and the other weeping crimson tears, drew his sabre, her resolve strengthened, and she steadied her aim.

More soldiers were approaching through the crowd that had drawn back to form a perimeter at what consensus deemed a safe distance. Three human troopers broke clear and started running towards Clovis, presumably so bold because they’d not seen her in action.

“You win.” Clovis shrugged and stabbed her sword back into its place. Arpix’s wide eyes widened further.

Clovis spread her arms, turning towards the first soldier as he reached her.

None of us truly know our limits. The point where we surrender hope and the point where we cease to fight may lie further apart than we imagine. Indeed, it’s often those you least suspect of endurance that will die with their teeth still locked in the enemy’s flesh.

Hockey for Girls, by Mrs. Elsa Primrose

Chapter 27

Arpix

Clovis had done magnificently, turning the tide against eight canith and two human soldiers. Arpix’s heart had been in his mouth when she’d confronted the massive Corporal Janks, who was a head taller than her and at least half as heavy again, but she’d put him down almost too swiftly to see, and even now he was barely stirring.

It couldn’t last though. The canith were professional soldiers, with strength in numbers and with ’sticks at their disposal. No amount of personal skill could dodge a bullet. Technology spelled the end of the warrior’s way.

And now, a woman barely able to stand had command over Clovis, aiming the black eye of her weapon at her. The hope that had sprung up in Arpix’s breast on seeing Clovis there, kneeling before the gallows, now came crashing down so hard that it burrowed into new depths of despair. They would be hanged together. Or die here in battle. Perhaps that was better.

As fresh soldiers from the square converged on Clovis, Arpix looked around briefly for a weapon of his own. He considered drawing Hadd’s blade but stayed his hand. It wasn’t—as Livira would say—his style. He’d look pretty stupid waving it around in any case.

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