Page 59 of Heart of Defiance

A laugh sputters out of me, and a little of the tension in my chest relaxes. “I’m glad to hear I haven’t been giving you too many gray hairs. But I think Jostein deserves the largest portion of the credit here, at least among our squadron.”

A smile plays with Captain Amalia’s lips. “Your loyalty also gives you credit. Don’t worry—Jostein’s contributions haven’t gone unnoticed. If we get out of this mess on top, they won’t be unrewarded either.”

As she walks on, my spirits lift at the thought that my friend might finally get the promotion he’s been vying for.Jostein might not have much patience for the politics of climbing the ladder, but he’d make a damn good captain—or even general—too.

A few shouts carry between the ruined buildings. I don’t need to make out the words—I can see the cause right in front of me.

The Darium army has come into view over the top of the nearest low slope. The two forces are merging into one as they march toward Feldan. Even after we’ve battered many of them with blinding pollen and toxic wasp stings, they maintain their rigid discipline: strict rows in perfect step with each other, weapons raised in ominous rows.

Like a horde of the undead come to drag us to our graves. Even though I know the bones are nothing but white paint on black fabric, an icy shiver runs down my spine.

High Commander Livius rides in their midst, the several scarlet plumes on his helm standing out starkly amid the mass of black and white. He’s chosen a ghostly white stallion, as if he’s arriving on death itself.

My mouth goes dry. I pick up my crate and check over the contents once more.

Everything’s there. It will work. I can spark the flame of our true victory.

I can make more than random gadgets of minor convenience. I can offer more than laughs and high spirits.

I’ve invented the winning blow to an entire war.

I’ve always known that between the two of us, Jostein is the real hero. But this once, I feel pretty heroic myself.

As long as I time this right.

As long as the blasted things do what I intend.

I owe it to Jostein, to my captain, to all my comrades—to Signy, most of all. We have to see this brilliant plan through.

The moment the Darium soldiers come within range, ourlongbow archers let loose an initial wave of arrows. They thud into raised shields, but we didn’t expect to take anyone down with those.

We just want them to know we’re in an aggressive mood. Make them think it’s better to deal with us once and for all.

Some of those soldiers will have been drawn from forts around the country. They won’t want to leave those areas less protected for very long.

Come on, fuckers. Come right to us.

The Darium army halts. We remain crouched amid the wreckage, visible but not easy targets.

High Commander Livius’s arrogant voice thunders across the field between us. “You have no hope of winning this fight, rats. This is your last chance to surrender. Those who continue their treachery should expect a very painful death.”

No one budges. We all know death is the most we can expect by handing ourselves over to the assholes now.

We’ll take our chances, thank you very much.

The high commander lets out a scoffing sound and motions to his troops. Their rows of archers tramp forward first, tall shields protecting the infantry behind them. They’re not bothering to waste their arrows when we’ve got a decent amount of shelter.

Our archers send out several more shots, a mere heckling. They don’t provoke an immediate retaliation, but I think the approaching soldiers pick up the pace just a little.

They’re all pressing forward, the whole mass of them passing onto the target area. Not quite enough of them yet, though.

Major Arlo gives a wordless holler, and most of our forces draw back as if we’re retreating into the ruins for additional cover. As if we intend to carry out this final fight amid the burnt buildings and not on the field.

I scramble behind a derelict wagon we left on the fringes to disguise my preparations and reach into my crate.

Each of the five contraptions is little bigger than a mouse. They’ll dart like the vermin the high commander compared us to, skimming across the ground between our enemies’ feet.

If we’d hurled similar devices at the army from above, those skilled archers could easily have shot them out of the sky. I need the impact as close to the ground as possible.

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