The plan to deal with the perimeter guards was simple. Ferrik would snipe them one at a time with his crossbow, and Tarkel would keep an invisibility spell on their bodies until an also-invisible Rozzar could rush out, feel around for each corpse, and drag it out of sight. Then Ferrik would take down another guard, and that would continue until all five were down. After that, they could infiltrate the camp and do it again.

Unfortunately, by the third guard, the plan fell apart.

Ferrik had just shot the second in the neck, and Tarkel had cast her invisibility spell on his body, when another guard hurried around the corner of the camp fence at a fast clip. “Yes, commander,” he yelled as he rushed around the fence. “Ten laps, got it!”

“Shoot him!” hissed Illria. “Do it now!”

Ferrik fired, but his shot went wide and struck the fence with a soft thunk. A wail immediately blasted out of the fence post—one of the wards the charmed guard had mentioned, Lavos knew—and the running guard stumbled. His foot caught on the downed guard’s body, and he fell on top of it, breaking the invisibility spell. “Hey!” gasped the guard. “Jael’s dead! Everyone, Jael—”

Ferrik shot him in the throat, but alarms were already sounding from all over the camp. “Let’s go!” yelled Illria. “Before they get ready! Lavos, Rozzar, with me; Tarkel, break the wards and then follow us; Ferrik, cover us and Tarkel. Now!”

She charged forward, and Lavos, feeling more alive than ever before, ran with her.

Tarkel’s magic struck the wards at the nearest opening in the fence just before the lagano reached it, and Lavos saw a few runes spark and fizzle out before he got into the camp proper. A pair of unarmored mercenaries rushed towards them, and he raised his sword. One human struck with a knife, Lavos dodged and stabbed the mercenary in the side, and the man fell, even as Illria decapitated his companion. But now humans were running out of their tents, dozens of them, and some were already starting to put on armor. Other mercenaries, fully armed ones, were charging in from the outer perimeter. Lavos felt a blast of fear and froze.

Then Rozzar charged past him, striking down two enemies with a single axe blow, and laughed. “Is this how you ‘defend your tribe,’ Lavos? Pathetic!”

Lavos growled, but the words struck him, and he knew Rozzar was right—all that mattered now was pushing past his fear and defending his lagano. He turned to the nearest group of humans, saw one collapse with a crossbow bolt in her neck, and charged the rest as Illria matched pace with him. “For our tribe!” he screamed. “Die!”

Illria let out a war whoop, and then the battle was joined.

Swords and spears stabbed at the lagano, but the humans were still bleary from their interrupted sleep, and they had little armor with which to defend themselves. Lavos took a couple light hits but managed to parry most of the blows, and his attacks landed with devastating effect. He struck down one human frantically trying to get his helmet on, then dodged an attack from another and stabbed her in the leg, pinning her until Illria dispatched her opponents and took Lavos’ down as well. Meanwhile, ahead of them, Rozzar plunged into the thick of the lightly armored mercenaries, killing several and even striking down an armored one from the perimeter. “Is that all you can do?” he roared. “Why were we afraid of you?”

“Lizard beasts!” roared a tall mercenary whose armor had glowing runes sketched on the surface. Rozzar struck at the man, but his axe deflected off the armor, and though Illria and Lavos both fought to get closer, there were too many people separating them from Rozzar. The mercenary with the glowing armor smiled. “Fall! And—”

The light on his armor suddenly flickered red as the runes sparked. Lavos glanced behind him to see Tarkel, shaking like a leaf but still chanting and gesturing towards the man. Two mercenaries ran towards her, but both dropped with crossbow bolts in their foreheads. Even as Ferrik ducked behind cover, Tarkel’s staff glowed and fired her spell. The man’s armor suddenly burst into pieces, and Rozzar cut him down moments later.

Lavos grinned as the lagano pressed the fight deeper into the enemy camp. The mercenaries were slowly getting their gear together, and as their enemies equipped their armor and their better weapons, they grew more difficult to take down, but the lagano didn’t flag. Lavos stabbed at any weak spot in his enemies he could find, batting aside opposing blades and shrugging off minor wounds. Illria was by his side, her sword flashing almost faster than Lavos could see, and not only did she take down several human mercenaries who didn’t seem ready for her astounding swordwork, she also deflected a few blows that would have likely claimed Lavos’ life. Tarkel’s spells slammed into the enemy, entangling them in magic vines, stunning them, and even setting them afire, while Ferrik picked off the under-armored enemy mages and defended Tarkel with his crossbow. And then there was Rozzar, blasting through the camp, cutting down even the most heavily armored enemies.

“I think we’ve got them!” yelled Lavos. “I think we’ll—”

Rozzar’s axe thudded against another soldier with magical armor, but this time as he struggled to attack his foe, two more elites jumped on him from both sides. He dodged the first, but not the second, and took a deep slash in his side with a roar. Tarkel’s magic flashed—but another mage, whom Lavos barely saw peeking out of one of the tents, flicked his own staff, and Tarkel’s spell fizzled before it touched the armor. Rozzar screamed as he was forced back on the defensive.

“Toward him!” screamed Lavos, throwing himself at the mercenaries between them like he was possessed. Swords nicked him as he tried to smash his way through, slowly pushing past the humans. One with bright red feathers in his helmet managed to catch his sword and stop him, but Illria slashed him down, and the two had a straight shot to Rozzar. “We’re coming!” Lavos yelled. “Hold on!”

Rozzar roared as a sword took him in the back, but he threw himself on one of the attackers, tackling him to the ground. Lavos screamed and slammed into the second mercenary with magic armor, and Illria leapt at the third, driving her opponent away from the others. Lavos saw a flash of what was probably magic in the corner of his eye, but it fizzled before it reached them when Tarkel cast a counterspell, and he ignored the enemy mage as he jumped off of his enemy and towards Illria’s. Her opponent was parrying her sword, and as Lavos thrust at him, the human raised his shield to block—but then Rozzar was there, stabbing with all his strength and burying his sword deep into the overwhelmed human’s armor.

The man fell, and Lavos turned to Rozzar only to see the lagano sagging as well. His back was bleeding badly, and there was another slash under his neck Lavos hadn’t seen. “Rozzar!” he said. “Are you—?”

“Up to you now,” hissed Rozzar. “You think you’d make a good chief? Show it.” And he collapsed on the ground.

Lavos wanted to scream, but the mercenary he’d shoved was rushing in for another attack, and he didn’t have time. His sword twisted in his hand when he blocked the man’s first blow, and he had to struggle to hold it, but he did manage to push the human’s sword out of position. Illria struck—

And her attack glanced off his armor. She scowled and tried again, but to no avail, and Lavos realized it was hopeless. Rozzar had been strong enough to break through the magical armor; Illria and Lavos were not. “Tarkel!” he yelled. “We need help!”

“The mage,” hissed Illria. “Ferrik! Shoot the mage!”

The snap of a crossbow bolt sounded in the air, and both lagano glanced to the side in time to see the mage slump over. Lavos shot a look behind him to see Tarkel chanting and raising her glowing staff. As it blazed, the armor of the man in front of them shattered.  Lavos and Illria took him down together—

And Lavos looked back again to see another soldier in magic armor rushing Ferrik’s position.

Lavos yelled, but too late, and Ferrik barely turned before the human’s sword ran him through. His mouth dropped open like he was about to make one final joke, and then his body sagged. He toppled over seconds later.

Tarkel screamed and raced for Illria and Lavos, who were slowly backing away from the heavily armored soldier Rozzar had tackled.  He pushed back to his feet. “You will all die for this,” the man growled. “You and your entire tribe.”

“I’m dying anyway,” snapped Lavos. “And I’m not letting you take my tribe down with me!”

The man roared as he struck out with a huge falchion, and when Lavos blocked his attack, the lagano’s sword shattered under the blow. Illria rushed him, but the man used his heavier mass to slam her aside, leaving Lavos temporarily unguarded. The mercenary’s laughter blasted into Lavos’ ears as he stumbled backwards, certain he was about to die, and then the blade dropped—

To hit Tarkel, who threw herself between the two combatants.

Lavos’ mouth dropped as Tarkel glanced down to see the falchion cutting into her shoulder. Dimly, he was aware of Illria climbing to her feet to take a defensive position against the elite mercenary that had been chasing Tarkel, but he couldn’t focus on that for the moment. He saw Tarkel sagging, her staff drifting down to thump into the mercenary’s armor…

It flashed and disintegrated, destroyed by whatever last spell Tarkel had channeled into her staff. The mercenary gaped as Lavos grabbed a sword someone had dropped, jumped, and cut him down. Then he swiveled to Tarkel in time to see her eyes starting to droop. “Tarkel…” he said desperately. “I… thank you. You did so much, and I… I’m grateful. You were incredible.”

Tarkel smiled slightly as Lavos spoke and then fell dead.

Lavos managed to wrench his gaze away from the lagano’s body and turned to see Illria and the final mercenary with magic armor facing each other down. A handful of other humans had survived, but they were staying back, seeming to sense the lagano were more than a match for them. The elite mercenary, though, didn’t back off at all. “Surrender or die,” he hissed.

Illria looked at Lavos. “We need to get him out of that armor, or we’ll never take him down.”

“Any ideas?”

“One. Cover me.” And then she charged, with Lavos only half a step behind her.

It was the most brutal fight Lavos had ever endured. His stolen sword felt alien in his hands, and though the enemy didn’t sunder his weapon, it wasn’t for lack of trying. Illria attacked too, but found herself knocked away whenever she attacked, resulting in the human focusing more and more on Lavos. Then the tip of his sword stabbed into the lagano’s tail, and Lavos cried out, almost dropping his weapon before catching himself. His lagano needed him, he screamed as he fought to raise the sword again. He couldn’t fail them.

The mercenary seemed to sense his weakness and stepped forward, slamming into the lagano’s sword with his shield and forcing it down. He raised his blade—

Illria sprang from behind him and released the catches on his helmet, sending it tumbling to the grass.

Lavos had just enough time to see the man’s shocked face before he hefted his sword and cut the mercenary’s now-unguarded throat. The mercenary stood for a moment longer, as if he could survive the deathblow through sheer force of will, before finally falling at Lavos’ tail. The lagano turned to face his next enemy…

But there was none. The handful of surviving mercenaries stared at the lizardfolk in horror. One actually dropped his blade.

“Go,” said Lavos, in the voice of a chief that expected to be obeyed. “We leave you your lives, on the condition you never return to Warus. If you do come back, we will find you. And end you.”

The mercenaries rushed for the camp exit, leaving the two surviving lagano alone.

“So,” said Illria at last, after stillness had fallen on the ruined camp. “Was it worth it?”

Lavos felt waves of pain and exhaustion break over him as his adrenaline faded. Half his body hurt, he wanted to collapse… and he was still due to be executed in the morning, mercenaries defeated or no. Though he still felt fear at the thought of his impending death, it wasn’t as much as before. Mostly, he just felt…

Pride.

He’d defended his lagano. He’d slain the mercenaries that had given the Hillslash tribe their advantage, which meant that in the future his tribe would be able to stand up to their enemies. And he’d done it without giving the Hillslash any means to retaliate. His lagano were safe.

“Let’s get Ferrik, Tarkel, and Rozzar out of here,” said Lavos. “And then… home. To wait for morning.”

Illria was silent for a long moment. “I have to say… if this has to happen… I’m glad I’ll be able to wait with a warrior like you. You would have made a good chief.”

Lavos blinked, and a faint smile crossed his face. “I’m glad to wait with a warrior like you too, Illria.”

The other lagano stared at him for a moment before smiling, and then she knelt with him to start collecting their dead.

*          *          *          *          *

A faint wind blew as Lavos and Illria were led to the execution ground, a small clearing just north of their camp. Their elders and their chief were there, though Lavos noted none met his eyes, not even his father. Elders from the Hillslash tribe, noticeably happier than the other lagano in the clearing, were also present.

One of the Hillslash elders read through the short required ritual, but Lavos ignored him. He focused mostly on Illria, who had washed with him when they had finally made it back to the encampment just before dawn. The blood and grime of battle were swept away, their wounds had been concealed as best they could, and every other trace of combat had been erased. And when all that was done, they had talked about the plans they had once made for the future, their memories of the past, and each other.

And near the end, just as dawn broke, they had done more than talk.

“…and so we accept this tribute with the sorrow and gravity their sacrifice deserves,” the Hillslash elder said at last. His shark-like smile belied his words—he and his compatriots clearly didn’t know about the mercenary camp slaughter yet—but Lavos barely noticed the elder as he slipped his hand into Illria’s and the bodyguard squeezed it. They had protected their lagano; that was the important thing. “We pledge that our enmity towards their tribe for its crimes will be buried with the bodies of these two worthy lagano, and from this day on, we will never again speak of any wrongs their tribe may have done.” He nodded. “The sacrifices will now take their positions.”

Lavos stepped towards the block that had been erected for this purpose as calmly as he could and knelt so his head was in the slot. He turned it and saw Illria had done the same thing. “Thank you,” he told his bodyguard and closest friend. “For being the bodyguard I needed… and the best friend I could have.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For being the leader we needed.” She smiled slightly. “And also my best friend, of course.”

Lavos chuckled. Then he settled into his block and waited for the axe to fall, feeling a strange sense of peace as he did so. His tribe’s enemies, he thought, were weakened badly enough that his lagano would likely be able to overpower and destroy them in the near future. No more of his lagano would be killed by Hillslash mercenaries or executed by Hillslash elders. He had saved them, and he had been the leader they needed, if only for a night. That was enough.

As the axe bit into his neck, his last thought was relief that his lagano were safe.

The post Lavos and His Final Night, Part Three appeared first on Tellest.

As the woods slowly receded behind Lavos and rolling hills rose in front of him, the lagano found himself matching Illria’s brisk pace without even trying. Thoughts of his imminent execution had been subsumed by those of the current march and the upcoming battle. He shifted his grip on his sword, straightened his back, and felt a small flare of pride. Though it was the eve of his execution, he would do his tribe proud.

“Are we there yet?” came a jokey voice behind Lavos, who turned to see the three warriors Illria had managed to recruit. The speaker, a stocky lagano named Ferrik, wiped his brow dramatically and began to walk with an exaggerated stagger. “If you’d said it was this far away, we could have just died at home and not gotten all worn out beforehand!”

Illria frowned, but Lavos waved her off. “Sorry,” he told Ferrik. “I’ll send the Hillslash tribe a very harsh message demanding they move their mercenary camp so we can attack it more conveniently.”

“See that you do,” said Ferrik, holding a stern expression for a few seconds before dissolving into laughter. “Oh, lighten up, Illria. We’re all probably going to die; you can at least let us joke beforehand.”

Illria rolled her eyes, but Lavos saw a faint hint of amusement on her lips. “Ferrik may joke around,” he said, “But I’ve known him since I was little. He’s reliable.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have picked him otherwise.” Illria snorted. “That said, he could stand to take this a little more seriously.”

“How can we not take it seriously?” asked the quiet voice of Tarkel. She was short, slight, and one of a few warriors in Lavos’ tribe that had some magic ability, mostly due to her relentless study of spellbooks pilfered from other tribes and captured from merchants, nomads, and even a few bandit groups. Without her spells, though, she was an utter pushover in combat. “You said it would be dangerous.”

“Extremely dangerous,” said Illria. “There’s still time to turn around if you don’t want to—”

Tarkel shook her head quickly, almost dislodging the spectacles Lavos had once arranged for her to get as her share of the spoils from a defeated bandit party. “I might be a little scared,” she stammered. “Or a lot scared. But I can’t leave Lavos behind…”

Lavos could feel his skin grow brighter from a warm blush, and despite the dim lighting, he could tell both Illria and Ferrik noticed. Illria gave an almost possessive snort, and Ferrik just laughed. “Hey, if we survive this, maybe you two can have a quick date before tomorrow morning,” he joked. “I know this great hillock.”

“Date?” Tarkel blushed and looked away as if suddenly fascinated by the surrounding hillside.

Lavos shook his head slightly and turned to the final member of the group. Rozzar was the largest member of the party, and the battle-axe he bore on his back was more massive than all the other weapons the group had put together. Rozzar had hated Lavos for years and had been known to mutter that he’d make a much better chief in the future than ‘some runt who just happens to be the chief’s son.’ Lavos had been stunned when Illria had brought him on the team. But he was there now, and he hadn’t complained yet, so Lavos was willing to go with it.

They neared the top of the hill, and Illria raised a hand. “We should be getting close, so keep quiet and—”

Lavos took one final step to crest the hill and walked right into a group of five humans.

The two gawked at each other for a long moment, and then everyone frantically drew their weapons. The humans wore light armor and carried swords, except for one clad only in mage robes who held a staff, and they all had tassels on their sleeves with the lion-and-harpy logo of the mercenary group the Hillslash tribe had hired. But Lavos didn’t have time to think on that—the nearest warrior was already striking at him, and it was all he could do to knock the blow away.

He sensed movement and felt his party forming around him. Illria dashed ahead on his left and ducked under the lead mercenary’s next swing, then jumped and smoothly stabbed her enemy in the joint between his helmet and breastplate. At the same time, Rozzar thundered past Lavos and smashed downwards with his axe at another mercenary. That human raised his shield, but the axe carved through it like butter, and the man was almost cut in two as Rozzar’s strike sliced into him. Then a third human stabbed at Lavos, and he felt a burst of pain in his side as he tried to dodge, but he pushed that aside as he’d been trained and thrust his sword as hard as he could at a weak point in the human’s armor. The human staggered as Lavos’ blade pierced his side just under the shoulder, and when Lavos pulled the blade back, the human collapsed in a heap.

And then it was over. Lavos looked around and saw the human mage sprawled dead with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his neck and the last human warrior stood still with a relaxed stance. Illria waved a hand in front of the human’s face and turned to look at Tarkel, who shrugged. “I cast the first thing I could think of,” she said. “A charm spell.”

“A charm spell?” Rozzar growled. “You should have just killed him! What’s the point of charming him?”

Ferrik chuckled. “Well, humans do throw the best parties—”

“Hey, human,” interrupted Lavos, knowing Ferrik would tell jokes until the charm spell wore off, and probably until the sun rose, if left to his own devices. He felt Illria moving besides him and dabbing at his side with something, but he ignored her and focused on the prisoner. “Tell us where your camp is and how it’s defended.”

The human nodded and spoke slowly, as if from a great distance. “We’re camped at the base of a big hill half a kilometer north. We have five guards patrolling the perimeter. There’s also a big fence with warded entrances…”

Lavos turned back at the others. “This is useful information,” he said. “Good job, Tarkel.”

The lagano mage bowed. “Thank you!”

Illria quizzed the human for a few minutes, until he had explained every facet of the mercenary base, and then quickly slit his throat. “I’ll scout ahead to make sure the camp’s where he said it was,” she said. “You four stay here.” And then she was gone in the tall grasses.

Tarkel sagged to the ground and drank from her water skin, but rather than follow suit, Ferrik approached Lavos. “You okay?”

“Considering I’m going to be executed tomorrow, sure.” Lavos managed a thin smile. “Why?”

“You got cut pretty bad.” Ferrik reached out and touched Lavos’ side, and Lavos immediately winced in pain. He’d been slashed by the human’s sword earlier, he realized, and Illria had been trying to tend to it with an herb or potion or something while he’d interrogated the human. “Might even scar over.”

Lavos snorted. “I don’t think I’ll be around long enough to worry about it.”

“Well…” Ferrik dropped his voice. “Look, Illria’s not here. If you want to go, we could just… go. I mean, I’ll follow you anywhere, and I’m sure Tarkel will too. We don’t need to do this.”

“Except if I run away, Hillslash will say we broke the terms of surrender and use that to further hurt our tribe.”

Ferrik shrugged. “That’s not your problem, is it? I mean, they don’t care if you die. You really care that much about them?”

Lavos’ next words caught in his throat. Ferrik was right; he could leave and start his life over someplace else. Someplace where he wouldn’t be at risk of being killed for political reasons. None of the tribe warriors or elders were there to stop him; even Illria had gone away. He could just go, and whatever happened next, at least it wouldn’t be his neck on the line.

But it would be the necks of his tribe.

Silence stretched between Lavos and Ferrik, and Lavos realized they were being eavesdropped on. He turned to see Rozzar staring at them. “What?”

“If he runs, you going to try to stop him?” asked Ferrik, his tone indicating he would fight with Lavos in that instance.

“Of course not.” There was heavy amusement in Rozzar’s voice. “I won’t do a thing.”

“Really?” Ferrik frowned. “That’s nice of you—”

Lavos shook his head, understanding. “He’s not being nice. He’d love to be able to report back that I fled and he didn’t. It would discredit me and my father; he’d be the next chief for sure.”

The big lagano grinned. “Maybe.”

Lavos looked at Rozzar for a long moment. “My father taught me a real leader looks out for the lagano he commands—whether that’s a battle squad like this or the entire tribe. He doesn’t secretly hope for the leader to fail for his own advancement. He fights to protect, defend, and advance his lagano.” Lavos clenched a fist. “I’m not running, Ferrik. I’m staying to fight. To do the only thing I can for my lagano. And if this one has an ounce of warrior spirit,” he gestured at Rozzar, “he’ll do the same.”

“You sure?” murmured Ferrik. “‘Cause, remember, even if you win they still execute you. There’s no shame in running away.”

Lavos shook his head. “Even if I thought running would work, even if I thought I had a chance of escaping the Hillslash tribe’s trackers… no. I wanted to do something to help my tribe. This is the only thing I can do.” He sighed. “If I don’t do this, then whether I’m executed or in hiding, Hillslash rules my tribe for the foreseeable future. If I do… my lagano have a chance.” He was silent for a moment. “But if you want to leave—”

“No way. I’m with you to the end. You want to go on a suicide mission, I’ll be right beside you.” Ferrik chuckled. “Probably complaining the whole time, but still.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Lavos grinned at him.

Illria returned a few minutes later and gestured for the others to gather around her. “The camp’s where he said it was. We can be there in a few minutes.” She eyed the others. “This is everyone’s last chance to back out.”

The group was silent, but Lavos stepped forward. “I’m going,” he said. “For our tribe.”

“I’ll go too!” said Tarkel quickly.

“And me,” added Ferrik. “You need someone to lighten the mood.”

“We really don’t,” said Illria, but she smiled as she said it.

Lavos fixed his gaze on Rozzar, who glared back at him for a long moment. But evidently something he’d said before about duty had resonated, because the big lagano finally sighed and growled something that sounded like assent .

“We’re all in,” Lavos said. “Illria. Lead the way.”

The post Lavos and His Final Night, Part Two appeared first on Tellest.

When word came back that the elders’ terms had been accepted, Lavos abruptly stood and stormed towards the edge of the encampment. A few of the lagano’s friends tried to stop him, but he brushed them away like flies and said nothing to anyone until he was safely beyond the farthest tents and ensconced in the darkness of the surrounding woods. Then he finally allowed himself to clench his fists, slam them deep into the rotting wood of the nearest tree, and let out a scream that reverberated through the forest around him.

“So, our diplomatic efforts didn’t go well?”

Lavos spun on his heel just in time to see Illria, his best friend and personal bodyguard, stepping into the clearing. Her earrings and necklace, all taken from enemies she had personally felled, sparkled in the faint starlight and helped Lavos to see her despite the darkness. “No,” he growled. “The Hillslash tribe demanded compensation for ‘trespassing’ on their territory.”

“But we didn’t trespass,” said Illria as she slipped closer to Lavos. “They have to know that.”

Lavos’ mouth turned upwards in a thin smile. “Of course they know. Their tribe’s mage, Orayl, has spells to compel others to tell the truth. If they really thought our hunting parties had gone on their territory, they could have summoned the parties and interrogated them. But they didn’t, because whether we did it isn’t important. They only care so they have an excuse to attack us the other tribes will believe.”

Illria was silent for a long moment. “So what did they want?”

“Complete submission. Our magical artifacts, our hunting lands, tribute from our stored provisions. And, of course, my head on a pike.” Lavos was silent for a moment before his fist slammed into another tree. “That way I can’t lead a rebellion later on. I’m the chief’s son, after all. Lagano might listen to me.”

“And the elders…?”

“Agreed.” Lavos’ voice was low. “The Hillslash tribe is too powerful, especially with that mercenary group they hired. We can’t stand up to them. All we can do is roll over and hope they find a use for us. So why not?” His voice turned bitter. “It’s not like the Hillslashers want their heads on pikes.”

Illria said nothing for a long moment, and Lavos turned to stare into the woods. “There’s nothing I can do. If I run, hide, resist in any way, the peace deal is off and the Hillslash have the excuse they need to slaughter all of us. I can only wait until tomorrow morning, when their delegation gets here. And then…” He made a slicing motion with a hand. “That’s it.”

“I’m sorry,” murmured Illria, slipping her hand into his. “Lavos, I’m so sorry.”

Lavos grunted something inarticulate. “I didn’t think it’d end like this. I thought I’d die a lot older, doing something important. Leading our tribe to some glorious victory, defending us from ogres or gnolls or something. But now?” He raised a fist again, then slumped to the ground. “Now I’m going to die tomorrow. I won’t have done anything.”

Illria sat next to him. “I’m surprised the chief didn’t try to ambush the Hillslashers. That’s his style, isn’t it?”

“He considered it, but they have dozens of mercenaries protecting them… they’re too strong. And even if we somehow won, then what? The Hillslash tribe would lean on the other tribes to have us investigated, and Orayl could interview our warriors one by one and make all the ones that attacked their mercenaries confess. Then the other tribes would exterminate us for making an ‘unprovoked’ attack on Hillslash.”  Lavos shook his head. “We can’t fight them.”

Illria was silent for a long moment. “That’s not necessarily true. What if some warriors killed their mercenaries in a sneak attack but then weren’t around for interrogation? They couldn’t prove we’d done it. Plus, even though I know we can’t get out of the treaty we already swore with them because the other tribes would attack us for being oathbreakers, we’d still have more leverage over Hillslash in the future if we got rid of the mercenaries now.”

“I don’t think Hillslash would believe us if we said we’d coincidentally misplaced a dozen of our strongest warriors shortly after all their soldiers died,” snapped Lavos. “Or the other tribes.”

“If the warriors went missing, yes, but what if they died? There wouldn’t necessarily be anything suspicious about that.” Illria nodded. “For instance, what if they were executed as part of a tribe treaty?”

Lavos stared at her for a moment as his eyes widened. “Wait. You think I should attack the mercenaries?”

“You did say you wanted to do something important,” said Illria in a calm voice. “Weakening our tribe’s enemies is important. And because they’re the ones calling for your execution, they could hardly complain if you weren’t available to be interrogated afterwards.”

“How does that keep me alive?”

Illria shook her head. “You said yourself that was impossible.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to go on a suicide mission!” Lavos scowled. “It’s easy for you to say. Your life isn’t at stake—”

His words cut off as Illria stiffened and turned to him. “What exactly,” she asked in a quiet voice, “do you think will happen to your bodyguard once you are dead?”

Lavos was silent for several seconds. “They’ll kill you too?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s not your fault!”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Nobody told me—”

“They didn’t want to burden you,” said Illria. “I myself was warned never to tell you. But, yes, our lives are one, as per tribe tradition. Whether you fall in combat because I fail to protect your body, or… or you get executed because I fail to protect you politically, I fall by your side.” She smiled sardonically. “The only difference is, nobody even bothered to tell me I was to die tomorrow. Had I not seen you storm out of camp, I may not have known until the executioner seized me.”

Lavos looked away. “I… Illria, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would suffer as well.”

“I know, and I don’t blame you,” murmured Illria with a soft sigh. “And I don’t want to die either. Not after all the work I did trying to become one of our strongest warriors.” She brushed her earrings, which she’d taken from a powerful ogre bandit she’d slain the previous month, and managed a faint smile. “But it’s been decided. And I, for one, don’t want to lie down and die without a fight. Do you?”

“Of course not.” Lavos shook his head. “I don’t want to die at all.”

“We don’t have that option. You said yourself, we die tomorrow.” Illria gently cupped her hand under Lavos’ chin and turned his head towards her. “The only question is how. Do you want to spend your last night in your tent, feasting and partying and trying to cram in a life’s worth of enjoyments into a few final hours? Or do you want to spend your last night fighting for your tribe?”

Lavos squirmed. Death seemed so close and moved nearer every second. He wanted to curl up and hide, to scream and vent his rage in the woods, to gorge on the finest meats and wines he could get until he was completely insensate before the next day. But more than that…

He wanted to matter for his tribe. He’d always wanted that, ever since he’d known what it meant to be the chief’s son. He couldn’t lead his lagano to greater glory now, not when he would die the next day. But maybe he could defend them for the first—and last—time.

“Fighting,” he murmured. “I want to go down fighting.”

“Good,” said Illria, and as Lavos heard the pride in her voice, his skin grew warmer. “I’ll gather a few warriors I know who will be willing to help us. Get your weapons and armor and meet me back here—it’s a few hours’ march to the enemy camp.”

Lavos nodded and stood. “Of course. And Illria… thanks. For talking to me.”

A smile flickered across Illria’s face before she turned and vanished into the woods.

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