Vaxes studied the map in her hands, an eastern wind stirred the thin leather sheet, causing the drawn lands to rise and fall like a wave.

She raised her eyes from the sheet, the wind blowing at her face and stared at the cliff faces that loomed ahead.

She sighed. From northwest down to the southeast the great highlands ran.

Rising high above the plains were sheer cliff faces, towering peaks behind and above them, like an impassable wall running northwest to southeast.

With just one pass, the Throat!

Vaxes gnashed as she looked straight on where the ground went higher, sloping past screes, up a path bordered by boulders, up to the wide cleft between the two lowest cliffs. That was her only way into the Alamaria.

And that was the problem. High above her she saw the accursed red and black banner of Alamaria flapping, raised high in the cleft.

An army stood in the pass, waiting and taunting her.

She clenched her fists. They had beat her to it! They had reached the pass before she did.

All her marching and speed, stealth all for nothing.

She had hoped to reach here first.

As a last hope she had expected the Alamarians to give her battle on the plains, in a bid to prevent her from reaching this close to their capital, but they had shrewdly chosen this single pass hewed by nature into this wall of stone to defend.

They had chosen the higher ground.

Very clever. She sighed.

What to do, what to do? The Throat wasn't the only way, somewhere to the southeast the ranges gave way to lower lands.

But that was too far off. To close to Onia and the Alamarian cities on the coast, many a day match with Alamarians in front and behind. No! It had to be this way.

She breathed, struggling to stay calm. She had come all the way across the bay, among the fishing villages to the east, leaving Kuvi with the ships.

Or rather he chose to. The fat coward had grinned. "That I maybe the first to run swiftly to the queen bearing news of your victory."

More like the first to run away! Coward. Across fields and farms she hurried, pillaging as quickly as possible, because she knew news of her would have gone ahead. She didn't wager they would be able to marshal such forces in time! They weren't supposed to be ready.

In her fantasies she imagined taking Alamaria as easy as spitting, cutting down useless defenders and setting her banners on its walls.

Well, that was in her dreams, anything was possible, this was reality and she had a problem.

What would father do?

Idly, she fingered the plain ball pommel of her sword, firstly his sword-Meat.

She had asked her father why he gave his sword such a name, why wasn't it as adorned as befitted his rank and prowess.

He had scoffed. "Men who put jewels on swords make it more attractive to thieves and less fearsome.

"A jeweled sword is a heavy thing, makes you slower, makes you meat in battle. I call my sword Meat because that's what he makes of men. Once he tears into you and tastes your blood, you're meat.

" I wouldn't be giving my sword fancy names like light or bright, there's nothing bright or nice about what she does. He kills, spills blood and that's dirty, nothing more..."

And she believed it too, Her sword was plain just like her armour. Unadorned helm, unadorned mail.

Just like the rest of me.

She had distaste for men who wore jeweled weapons or armour. Jewelry was for women and effeminate filth.

That was what annoyed her about Kuvi. Did he think war was another party for him and his nobles idiots to show off gems?

No! She was getting angry. She had to think.

Her brows furrowed.

If only she had a dragon like in the stories, she would fly up and roast those Alamarians in the valley. Fire and screams!

"General!" An unheard explosion went off within her. Why must she be surrounded by fools? Couldn't he see she was trying to think?

"General!" The voice kept demanding. To her it seemed like a snare, a daring undertone to it, or rather not so hidden.

Captain Ivack of the Good Brothers hired blade company wouldn't desist from such.

Vaxes was muscular and was sometimes considered big, but Ivack was bigger. His arms were as thick as drums, his chest was a heaving barrel. He was a giant amongst men. He was mercenary. He swelled his chain armour, and his mighty axe a worthy companion was worn on his back.

One bit of brains, much more of muscle.

She scowled at him. She didn't pretend to hide her disgust. She hated hired blades as any decent soldier should.

Men with no concept of loyalty, of honour. And Vaxes strongly believed that wasn't a grain of discipline and competence between all hired blades in the world.

Mercenaries were like whores in the military world, they opened their legs to the highest bidder. Her concepts of honour and duty meant little to them.

It was the curse of the Thigian empire. Too many years of prosperity had invoke a sense of ease and complacency on citizens.

Citizen armies were rare and where they were found, they were entrusted with home territories.

Thigia had to rely much on hired blades for its battles.

Her father had tried to raise a citizen army and refused to stick with mercenary which he believed was as safe as living in a sand house.

Hired blades were always risky business. They were as fickle as the god they served -gold.

Although, Ivack and his "goon" brothers had so far been cooperative, she had no doubt that they would sell her out if they found it profitable, for a very high price. But she doubted if they ever will-find it very profitable. At least for now.

They worship gold. Good thing Thigia has gold in excess. They know, they know.

She watched his darting eyes sullenly.

"We have been waiting for hours. The enemy has fewer men. That's why they can't face us in the plains. Let me lead a charge. I clear a path through them and we will push forward all the way to Alamaria.

Excellent, excellent. Genius! I hardly thought of it myself. Tell me, are all hired blades fools like you?

She didn't reply. She returned her gaze to the pass, completely ignoring him.

She thought she had him hiss. She turned back to him. He was giving her a look she knew all too well. A not so subtle disdaining look.

He thinks I'm a weak, hesitating woman. He thinks he doesn't want to follow my orders.

She suppressed the urge of showing Meat his insides. She will not do the enemy's work for him.

" Look." He began, looking down on her literally and figuratively. "We can't just stay here and do nothing. We came here for the city. I'm not going to dawdle."

It seemed to her that there was a condescending in his voice, a tone she suspected he used for his wife, if any woman was witless enough to marry this meat sack, and other women. A tone that said. "I'm the man, I know best."

Apparently, Ivack didn't like taking orders from a woman, no matter how manly she looked, even if she was Vaxes, daughter of Lightning.

He had barely hidden his resentment till now. Her men were clever enough to fear her, respect her, but these hired blades weren't.

"I will lead a detachment of my brothers to open a way for those too afraid to come first." He wasn't asking for her approval.

She ignored his slight, trying to keep calm. No hired blade would have gotten away with speaking to her father like this.

But her father was a man, women were supposed to be more subtle in dealing with things like this. As manly as she seemed, she liked to think she had this worthy feminine attribute.

Ivack led his own towards the pass in an arrow head formation, their galloping stirred swirls of dust in the plains.

Vaxes watched them go. She could have said,
"It's stupid, they have the higher ground."

She could have warned, "The accent would be against your momentum. The pass is too narrow and well dug in. It's too narrow for our numbers to be to our advantage...."

She said nothing and watched them go, let the fools figure it out themselves. Hired blades always dreaming of rewards, not so much of the risks.

The way she saw it there were three scenarios about to take place.

Ivack would assail them with his own men weakening himself, while she reserved hers. He was offering her a costless opportunity to test the enemy's defense.

Ivack and his insolent goons would take a beating and be punished for their rashness.

And the last and least probable, they could break through their lines.

She crossed her hands and watched comfortably.

Ivack and his men hadn't even began to ascend when the Alamarians unleashed showers of arrows on them.

She watched as the clouds as dark as death flew high and descended on them.

She was too far to here their cries. She half hoped Ivack got an arrow in him or something.

She knew by now injured horses were tumble into others causing commotion and disrupting the smoothness of the charge.

The attackers moved uphill painfully as more arrows descended.

By the time they got to the top, they met the Alamarian long spears. She caught the flashes of sunlight on their heads. The hired blades fought and threw themselves frantically and suicidally against the interlocking pavises and long spears that jabbed them downhill and into each other.

This is a mess. A bloody mess.

She sighed and turned away from the sight.

****

Later, Ivack rode back with fewer men with arrows and wounds in places. Ivack caught an arrow in his left arm and a slash too there. His injured horse collapsed under his weight. He scrambled dejectedly before her, looking so unlike the loud talker she had seen not so long ago.

"So, we wait," she said smiling as sweetly as the spirit of satisfaction.