While Nina did that, everyone else pursued their own forms of mayhem. Zoya twisted men until they broke for her. Marina cut men down quickly, without fuss or pleasure. It was just a job. The siblings killed like they were on the Outerplains hunting boar. Tatyana watched from a distance, her bow ready, if it was needed. But she’d done her job. She’d brought them here. She’d provided good, solid information. Kachka would not now make her fight.
Kachka herself tracked down the one she was sure was the leader. He had an arrow to the back, but his armor had stopped it from going all the way to his heart. He was dragging himself off into the trees when Kachka caught up with him. She grabbed his leg and dragged him back to the middle of the carnage. She flipped him over and held him down with a foot against his chest.
“Why did your cult send you here?” she asked him.
“You, whore, will burn in the pits of hell for what you have done here.”
“Was it just to cause fear in the Southlanders? Or do you look for something? Tell me and we make quick work of your death.”
“My god will find you. He will destroy you. He will destroy all you love. For his power is great!”
Kachka stopped listening and stepped away from the man, motioning to a joyful Zoya Kolesova.
The larger woman slammed her foot on the man’s chest, forcing him to the ground, the arrow in his back pushed until it broke. Then she stepped back, hefted her battle axe high above her head, and brought it down six times. The man was nothing but big chunks when she was finished.
Panting, she faced Kachka. “I like this, Kachka Shestakova.”
And, for the first time ever, Kachka grinned at Zoya Kolesova. “I can tell, comrade. I can tell.”
“Do we clean this up?” Marina asked.
“No,” Kachka said, walking back to the oversized Southlander horses they had been forced to take because they’d left their Outerplains mounts back in Brigida the Foul’s cave. “We leave them for the crows to dine on.”
“And us?”
“Us? We go find more to kill.”
“Yay!” Zoya Kolesova cheered. “I was hoping she’d say that!”
Kachka stopped, faced the others. “But first, we need to get better.”
Zoya looked around at the carnage. “You don’t think we did well here?”
“We were lucky. Caught them off guard. They weren’t expecting us. But word will spread and we’ll need to find a better way to fight.”
“She’s right,” Marina agreed. “There’s only seven of us. We’ll need to learn to be quieter. Faster. They should never know we’re coming.”
Yelena Khoruzhaya nodded. “Faster. Quieter. And maybe different weapons.” She nodded at her brother. “Bows are good. Javelins and spears also.”
Kachka re-sheathed her sword. “And we will only attack at night. We were very lucky today. We won’t be again.”
She looked over those who’d fought with her. Yes. She could make this work. She could make this team work. She just had to be smarter than their enemies. For the first time, Kachka was in charge. Out here, roaming these lands, there was no one above her, no one to report to, no one to watch her back except the six tribesmen she was looking at.
“Come,” Kachka ordered, again heading to the horses. “We have much to do, comrades.”
Servants led them to a large dining table covered in fresh fruits and vegetables, warm bread, and succulent meats.
Brannie only had a moment to think, My, that looks good . . . before she realized that the Mì-runach had already hunkered down so they could feed.
“Like wild animals,” she muttered as she took the only open seat, by Aidan the Divine.
He grinned at her around a mouthful of turkey leg, which caused Brannie to reply, “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything!” he said on a laugh.
“You were thinking at me.”
The Rebel King and his sister entered the dining hall from the back. As they approached the table, Brannie quickly realized that they were staring at her. She just didn’t know why.
The pair grabbed two chairs and pulled them up beside Brannie. The king at the head of the table, his sister on her other side, almost between her and Aidan.
When neither said anything, Brannie asked, “Is there something you . . . need, King Gaius?”
“Loaded question,” Aidan leaned over to whisper. So she punched him in the thigh to shut him up.
“Ow! Vicious harpy!”
“Is there a chance,” the king’s sister began, “that you and your”—she glanced at the dragons eating heartily of her people’s food—“friends can stay at my brother’s side for a bit longer?”
“Here? Don’t you have guards for that?”
“Not as guards. Protection, yes, but he’ll be going out to . . .” The king’s sister glanced up, thinking, before finishing with, “handle something. Important to the Empire. And it would be wonderful if you lot could go with him.”
Brannie looked back and forth between the king and his sister. The king smiled, but she didn’t trust that smile. Then again, his sister wasn’t much better. She raised her eyebrows, which appeared just as untrustworthy, so Brannie returned her gaze to the king.
That’s when he offered, “You’ll get to kill things.”
“Ooooh,” Aidan said near her ear. “Now doesn’t that sound lovely? Let’s do it.”
Brannie brought her fist back and popped the chatty bastard in the face.