Chapter 7: The Message

Zehra:

Zehra grinned at the thought of facing bashi-bazouks but, soon enough, went green and puffed up her cheeks at Pedro as she sat behind him in Gleam's saddle.

"Why can't I ride with them!?"

She jabbed a finger toward the squadron of Custon knight brothers on equoferri and sergeant brothers on horseback. The sergeants wore brown brigandine armor with sections of plate similar to Zehra's but with red Christograms on their chests.

"You promised Isabella you would have my back, did you not? I'm a father now and have to think about my son."

"You have Gleam for that!" Zehra threw her hands up with a burning red face even as Gleam poked her cheeks with the tip of his tail.

"Look at it this way. You'll get into combat faster with us and-" Pedro stopped when Gleam snarled and fixed his eyes on something in the distance.

"What is it? The enemy!" The green vanished from Zehra's face, and she lit up with fiery eyes.

"Si. Father, preserve us, not one, but two abra riders." Pedro's hand glowed in golden light, and he gripped the hilt of his magicae sword.

"Two?!" Zehra gulped and felt her armor rattle as she trembled. "Uhh, you can take two, right?" she gulped. As much as Zehra prided herself on her growth as a warrior, she was in no rush to face a rider and their magic plus superhuman strength.

"We can certainly try, but I would rather have my beloved Isabella here to help-" Pedro and Gleam blinked and peered closer. "¿Qué? How about that. Now we've seen everything, Gleam."

"What are you talking about? Don't leave me in suspense." Zehra puffed up her cheeks again before Pedro tossed her a brass spyglass from his bag.

"Take a look for yourself, mi amiga." Pedro let Zehra move forward so his epaulet-jacket cape did not obscure her sight.

"¿Qué?" Zehra's mouth almost touched the ground far below, and she very nearly dropped the spyglass. There were, indeed, two abra riders in the air ahead of them with a vast party of bashi-bazouks and riders on horseback. However, instead of battling Tierrons, the Invadores fought each other. The riders, draped in cloaks, wielded kilij swords and battled the bashi-bazouks while both abras snapped at each other like striking snakes.

"Well, you are our Invadores expert, mi amiga. Care to explain what they might be up to?"

"How should I know-" Zehra caught her breath and struggled to breathe. She pressed the spyglass so hard against her eye that it throbbed. "It can't be, it can't be!" Zehra watched the first Abra rider exchange sword blows with a coat of orange carnelian around his magicae blade and shards that exploded in the air around them. However, the world slowed around Zehra when she saw bursts of sand fly from the second rider's hands and into his opponent's face.

"Ahhh! Saint Petronas!" she hyperventilated. "We have to get in there!"

"Are you sure? Would it not be best to let the two sides exhaust each other first?" Pedro scratched the side of his head, and Zehra shook as her insides boiled up. She readied a verbal explosion on him when a real one rocked the air ahead of them.

"No." Zehra slammed the spyglass to her eyes again and watched the second Abra fall into the treeline with his rider. "No!" The spyglass fell out of Zehra's hands, and she grabbed Pedro by the collar of his jacket cape.

"I need to get in there now. ¡Por favor!" Zehra tried to shake him but only ended up shaking herself due to his immense strength. Pedro and Gleam both looked at each other, their trademark bright expressions vanishing.

"Si, mi amiga. I trust you. Captain, we'll go ahead, be ready to charge."

"Si, Don Pedro!" At that, Pedro and Zehra donned their helmets while Gleam let out a deep growl. "Hang on and get ready to jump."

With his sword in one hand, Pedro pointed his left index finger at the first rider while Gleam aimed his head at the Abra. Zehra held onto Pedro tight and had to clench her eyes shut when two blinding flashes of golden light shot through the air. A pair of explosions almost drowned out the Abra and his rider's agonizing cries. Not a moment later, Zehra almost flew out of the saddle when Gleam propelled himself hundreds of meters within seconds.

Zehra clung to Pedro's jacket cape for dear life and imagined her internal organs pressing against her back. However, she soon wished Gleam continued after he slammed himself into the disoriented abra, sending him into a tumble. Zehra slammed into the back of Pedro's golden magicae armor and rung like a bell with little ducks dancing around her head as she spun. Pedro coated his blade in golden light and then unleashed a series of lightning-fast strikes on the rider, who grimaced and struggled even as he conjured orange gemstones.

"Gracias," Zehra muttered.

She saw a tree just below and jumped into the branches, catching herself on one. After a grunt and sharp pain in her feet, Zehra forced herself down branch by branch until she saw the melee up close. It was far from the chivalric maiden's first time in a skirmish, but seeing her former people fighting each other. The bashi bouzks and horsemen's blades clanged while shouts and insults flew from both sides.

"Traitors!" one horseman cried as he lopped a bashi bouzk's head off.

"Times have changed! There'll be a new aristocracy now!" a foot warrior sneered as he impaled another riper with his polearm.

"New aristocracy?"

Zehra blinked, then peered closer through her helmet's visor. All of the horsemen wore expensive armor beneath their cloaks with fine curved sabers. These were Invadores noblemen, but why were they here and attacked by bashi bazouks? A deep groan snapped Zehra from her daze. Instead, she fixed herself on the second abra from before, who now lay curled up among a few nearby trees. Zehra's heart raced until she saw him. The abra's rider rested near his beast, slouched over a branch, still breathing.

She almost sobbed and performed a holy sign and started her track across the branches toward him. Zehra's hand gripped her rapier so tight she almost lost circulation. For a brief moment, her eyes lingered back on the melee, and she imagined herself bringing the horrible marauders down. However, a far stronger instinct drove Zehra on, and she continued toward the abra rider.

"Hmm, what do we have here?"

She caught her breath as a polearm jabbed itself toward her. The blade scraped along her left shoulder pauldron. Then, in a single motion, she jumped down and drew her rapier. The thin blade found its home in the little man's neck and dripped with blood as it came out the other side. He convulsed once, then collapsed, the rapier pulling itself free as he did so.

"A barbarian!" another bashi bazouk cried and made a mad dash for Zehra. The short man held out a hatchet in each hand and lashed out, but Zehra's rapier gave her greater reach, and she jabbed between them with a precise strike. Her blade's tip went just above a section of armor through fabric and flesh.

Another two broke off with polearms in hand. Zehra dove away and watched the men collide headfirst. However, she could not celebrate, for yet another bazouk came from behind. Zehra had just enough to block his curved saber with her rapier and exchange a pair of blows before he threw a punch with his offhand.

A wide grin grew over Zehra's face, and she whipped out her parrying dagger. With one swift blow, she stabbed the blade into the man's hand. His screams went silent after he tried to pull himself free, and Zehra stabbed an exposed area on his torso with her rapier. 

She turned to face the duo of polearm-wielding marauders but sighed in relief when a rider came up from behind and cut them both down. All in all, she had never felt more grateful for spoiled Invadores noblemen than that day. The riders helped clear her a path to her destination. In return, she downed another four bashi bazouks along the way, and for a brief moment, Zehra thought the battle turned in their favor.

"Köleaskers!" The cry from a nearby rider froze Zehra in place, and she almost felt her heart stop.

"Köleaskers," she stuttered to herself. Zehra's mind commanded her legs to run, but fear paralyzed her. She had just enough strength to turn and see them. A dozen men clad in black and orange scale armor with turban helmets covered by börk headpieces and bronze masks shaped like faces marched forward on foot. Each soldier wielded a curved kilij sword or two-handed cleaver polearm with round shields. Unlike the other Invadores, these men had aciemes statures. Each stood over six feet with broad shoulders and hulking bodies.

"Find the traitorous diwan."

The leader's voice came like cold steel, and a pit formed in the young woman's stomach when she saw the slave soldiers go to work. One by one, they cut down the riders with ruthless efficiency. Zehra finally found her strength. She made a dead sprint for the Abra rider until she saw him. One of the köleaskers came in fast, saber drawn and ready to slay the unconscious man.

"No! Saint Petronas!" Abandoning her fear, she threw herself at the warrior and jabbed her rapier toward a gap in his armor plates. Once more, the world seemed to slow around Zehra as the masked warrior parried her blow and then threw a punch that lifted her off her feet and into the air. She coughed as horrible pain overtook her stomach and cut off her breathing. Zehra hit the ground and gasped for breath, but her opponent offered no respite. 

Instead, he came down with his boot toward her head. Zehra threw all her strength into a roll away from him. However, the slave soldier kept on her like a feral predator and thrust down with his sword. Zehra just managed to throw herself upright but jumped backward when the köleasker lunged forward.

"You're quite small for a barbarian," he muttered, and Zehra drew her dagger.

"And you're much too big to be a 'civilized man' why not come home?" She jabbed her dagger toward an eye hole in his mask but deflected her arm away. However, the tip still knocked off the steel face and revealed not an Invadores man but an Envidian. Zehra knew what lay behind the mask already, but a pit reformed in her stomach regardless. This man was, at heart, still a boy stolen from his family and forced into a life he did not choose. He had been robbed of his childhood, home, family, and salvation. Her family, her people, did this to him.

She pleaded, but the köleasker kicked her back into a tree. The pain almost overwhelmed Zehra into blacking out, but she once more staggered aside just in time. The köleasker's sword glanced off her armor and embedded itself into the tree trunk. Zehra caught herself with her right heel and pivoted. She stabbed at the köleasker's exposed face with her rapier, but the man's sword sent it flying into the air. Despite the sharp pain in her right arm, Zehra thrust her left hand forward. Her parrying dagger struck home and plunged deep into the köleasker's throat. Blood soaked her gauntlet, and Zehra turned away as she pulled it free.

"Father, forgive him." Zehra forced herself on and toward the rider. After what felt like an eternity, she arrived just in time to see the abra awaken. The serpent-like beast shook its head and soon spotted her. He hissed and arched his head back to strike.

"Desert, don't even think about it!" Zehra whipped her helmet off and hardened her expression. The abra's aggression vanished, and he blinked before purring. Zehra took another deep breath as the lizard's snout nudged against her and sniffed with his forked tongue. "It's me. Now be a good boy for once." Zehra took a deep breath and climbed up the unconscious abra rider. He was around Pedro's age with smooth pale skin, well-groomed brown hair the same color as Zehra's, and a handsome face. However, he was only a little bigger than Zehra herself.

"Hmm, Ozil!" Zehra slapped him across the face, and his eyes shot open.

"Ahh! Where am I? You-" His face turned pale, and his body trembled when he met Zehra's eyes, and her cheeks swelled. "Zzzehra!? Is, is that you!?"

"Hmp, indeed. I'm surprised you recognized me."

"You, I, I thought you were dead. You went missing years ago and now. You've gotten so much bigger, you're wearing barbarian arm, and is, is that!?" Ozil's hand trembled when he pointed to her wooden Christogram. At last, a wide grin escaped Zehra's face as she waved it in front of him.

"That's right. Your little sister is a barbarian and an apostate. Hmm, how do you like that?"

"Zehra, you've brought shame to the noble house of-" Ozil's head hung backward after Zehra whacked it, leaving a sizable bump. Desert tried to nuzzle it, but Zehra's fierce glare kept him at a distance.

"What are you doing here?" Ozil groaned while rubbing his head.

"I told you. I'm a chivalric maiden of Tierrero now. We came to stop these damn bashi bazouks when I saw you. Why are you and these nobles here, and why are there köleaskers after you?!"

"Ahh!" Ozil pointed behind them as the other köleaskers closed in alongside the bashi-bazouks.

"Ahh! Pedro! Pedro!" Zehra's hand stuttered as she tried to raise her sword. Desert hissed but collapsed in pain again. However, at that moment, a horn blew, and Zehra's fear transformed into fiery passion. A wide grin returned, and she gestured toward the road.

"Saint Petronas!" The Knights of Custon lined up in a tight conroi with their sergeant brothers flanking them, then shook the earth as they charged. The bashi-bazouks screamed and fled in panic but to no avail. Those not trampled found themselves cut down by the knights and sergeants. The remaining köleaskers tried to form up but proved too late. A single knight brother came for each slave soldier. Two even dismounted to face them on foot. Zehra trembled in awe of the holy knights who went to work. What happened before her was no battle but a slaughter. The elite slave warriors stood no chance against the knights who cut them down with brutal efficiency. Moments later, another explosion rocked the woods, and an orange abra crashed into the ground nearby, followed by his rider.

"Bueno, we are victorious. Hmm, so this is who you were after. Who is he?" Pedro and Gleam loomed over a trembling Ozil, and Zehra grabbed him by the collar of his armor.

"My big brother, and he's going to tell me why he's here." Zehra tore into him with her gaze until Ozil gulped.

"Alright! We fled, seeking the King of Tierron's protection." Ozil's eyes swelled with tears.

"Father is dead, Zehra, killed along with every other diwan who opposed Selim!"

"Eh?" Zehra's body shook, and she held Ozil tighter.

"What are you talking about?"

"Selim staged a coup! He's become too popular with the army and mobs of commoners! He declared that the Caliph was a failure and that he would launch a campaign to reclaim the north! From there, the fool seized control of the capital, killed Suleiman, and declared himself the Caliph! He's raising the largest army seen in generations and won't stop until all you barbarians are killed or enslaved!"

"Cccaliph." Zehra went pale, and the world came to a halt. She tried and eventually found herself staring at Pedro, all the color gone from his face.

"Father, help us."