Sara turned to the still entangled militia, seizing on the strongest part of the bandit line, mentally working her way through her angle of attack. It was only when she began the slow jog down the hill that she spotted Evie through her haze of roaring blood, memories of her promise to follow orders smming her back to reality. She pulled herself to a halt and shook her head to clear the red tinging her vision, calling out.

  "Hey, Evie!" The catgirl looked up from the wiping of her bde on a fallen opponent's clothes, slitted pupils blown out among the heat of battle. "Where to next?"

  Rather than answer right away, the catgirl bounced to her feet, fidgeting flourishing of her bde mirroring her tail's contemptive swiping. She evaluated the battlefield silently, ears twitching. Sara stepped closer, mindful of the music that still reverberated off her skin.

  It was that music, strangely, that had turned the tide of battle. Even while Sara had been dealing with the mage, Amarat's abilities had been rolling off into the hills, bolstering the coordination of Voth's men. The orc commander had ordered his suddenly alert and responsive troops to colpse into the very shoulder-pressed formation he'd earlier dubbed impusible, presenting the individually superior bandit troops with a square of bristling spearheads. The militia had been subsequently surrounded, but the ranks were holding, protecting the wounded at their center.

  Sara edged around the front of Evie for just a moment, angling for a better view, but found herself instead distracted by something entirely unexpected.

  Evie was watching the battle with lips peeled back in a menacing expression, half snarl, half sadistic smile. Panting like a racehorse yet showing no signs of exhaustion, there was a manic glee in her eyes that Sara would've once ascribed only to serial killers and executioners. Her nostrils were fred to better breathe in the scent of iron and sweat, the rot of battle savored like the finest of bouquets.

  Sara jumped half out of her armor when Hurlish cpped a massive paw on her shoulder from behind, leaning down to whisper in Sara's ear while they both stared at Evie.

  "Y'know, I don't think you're being a very good influence on that gal."

  "I try to be..." Sara muttered.

  "Well. Today you ain't."

  Sara couldn't argue.

  Evie snapped out of her trance with a flurry of blinks, looking about for Sara and Hurlish. When she found them the massive orc tossed a little wave with her wrist still resting on Sara's shoulder, as if they were greeting a friend chanced into at the park.

  "What's the pn, boss?" Hurlish asked.

  Evie licked her lips, clearing flecks of foreign blood. "With the fall of their irregurs, the battle has been decided. Now we must only convince the enemy of the fact."

  "And how do we do that?" Sara asked, eying the battle from a mere fifty yards off. With Voth in such a defensive posture, the time pressure for their involvement had lessened, but heated blood still urged her to move.

  Evie's tail once more coiled up safely behind her back as she began to pace, punctuating her instructions with sharp gestures.

  "You, Master, will move thirty five yards to the southeast of their line, then begin using your bow to pick off those you deem the most skilled fighters. Take care to choose targets so that a missed arrow will not strike allied troops. Hurlish will wrap around their western fnk, drawing off the fighters nearest the stream to alleviate pressure."

  Sara eyed the pce Evie had picked out for her, nodding while she slipped her borrowed bow free. "And you?"

  The feral grin returned, canines bared. "I will kill who I please."

  Sara blinked. Was that what she looked like to other people? Maybe it was time to start seeing if this medieval society had developed therapists.

  Evie dismissed them with a curt "Go!", spinning off to sprint towards the enemy. Sara and Hurlish followed shortly after, taking to their assigned tasks.

  Sara watched Evie approach the bandits while she ran to the small rise in the hill her girlfriend had picked out for her. Unlike the archers, the bandits were not so absorbed by their tasks that Evie's approach went unnoticed, and a pair immediately broke off to engage her.

  Poor bastards.

  Evie met them with a cackle worthy of Nora, rapier blurring as she sliced the hafts of their spears to ribbons. They barely had time to grow fearful before being dropped by stabs piercing their skull. Evie stepped over their steaming corpses, producing a rag from a dress pocket to wipe her bde, still grinning from ear to ear.

  What does it mean about me that I think that's hot as hell? That's bad, right?

  Sara had to tear her eyes away from the sight when she reached her position, drawing an arrow from the quiver on her back. The range to the enemy was under a hundred feet, a distance at which she felt confident hitting a stationary target. Unfortunately, none of the loosely organized bandits had the good graces to hold position, which made her rather gd Evie had ordered her where she did.

  Sara nocked an arrow and drew it to her cheek, selecting a pair of bandits whose close coordination struck her as too effective to allow. The bassy thump of music hid the twang of her bowstring's release, sending the arrow downfield. She began drawing another arrow before it even nded, selecting a second target.

  Evie had been right about the battle having been decided, Sara quickly realized. With none to oppose them and no ability to leverage superior numbers, their trio's effect on the bandits was macabre. Hurlish crashed into the enemy with a roar, throwing bodies with nearly every swing of her brutish hammer, while Sara's arrows unerringly found their marks, incapacitating or outright killing bandits as fast as she could shoot. Evie herself simply started at one end of the line and began marching her way forward, not even bothering to fall into her stance while she jogged up the line. Her weapon moved so much faster than anyone else's that it failed to be a fight in Sara's eyes, each person Evie chose to engage no more than a netted fish being dragged into oblivion.

  The bandit line broke in under a minute. It was started by one woman looking to her right to see the trail of bodies behind Evie, then deciding to bolt. Her sudden flight didn't go unnoticed, and was quickly mimicked by first one, then two, then a dozen of her comrades, a stampede forming as bone-cd bandits threw down their weapons and began to flee. Those few that were either brave or stupid enough to stay were subsequently shattered by Voth's personal emergence from the militia line, steel breastpte glinting as he spun a poleaxe into-- then through-- a man's skull. Having been showered by their friend's graymatter, the st bandits finally turned to run.

  Sara lowered her bow with a heaved sigh, letting the music fade. Cheers rose from Voth's soldiers to repce it, filling the valley with the strange mixture of etion and relief unique to the conclusion of battle. A few troops began to point in Sara's direction, chattering to their comrades with eted expressions.

  Sara gave them a wave, the shock of absent adrenaline leaving her fingertips trembling. She was gd for the distance between them, now. Hours spent with every muscle wrapped in anxious bundles had taken its toll on her, a bone-deep weariness soaking in by the second. Her breathing grew bored, the weight of her armor settling more firmly on her shoulders, encouraging her to drop back on her haunches.

  Sara wobbled, but stood strong. This was a diplomatic mission after all, and the fact that it was only natural to be exhausted after a fight didn't mean squat. To the militia she couldn't just be Sara, a highschool dropout who lucked her way into a wild life. She had to be Sara of Amarat, the Holy Champion heralding the revival of dead Tulian. In this early stage of the pn, there could be no compromise in her image.

  Sara unfolded her sword and began cleaning the bde while slowly walking forward, using it as an excused to catch her breath and still her thundering heart. Voth's troops were slowly breaking apart, clearing room for the wounded to be id out on the ground for treatment. She picked a piece of bone off the tip of her bde, flicking it away into the grass. Evie was approaching her, still grinning, but in a more mentally stable fashion, pride overshadowing whatever bloodlust still lingered.

  "You doing good, Evie?" Sara asked.

  "I am uninjured, Master. And you?"

  "Not a scratch."

  Evie stepped up to Sara, running a finger along Sara's breastpte. "Maybe not on your skin, Master, but your armor has been damaged."

  Sara gnced down. Moving from her shoulder to her ribcage were four thin tracks, parallel cw marks that created little divots in the enchanted steel.

  "Shit. Gd I didn't take that any deeper."

  "It is also fortunate that the blow did not damage your armor's glyphs. I doubt there would be an enchanter skilled enough in Tulian's ruins to repair it."

  Sara nodded, finishing her wiping of her bde just as Hurlish walked up, hammer dangling loosely from her grip. It was coated in blood and torn pieces of metal, less like a tool than an engine block thrown by a highway collision.

  "Y'all good?"

  "Yeah, we're both fine. You?"

  "Nothing worse than tired. Got a bit hairy with the swordsman, but I managed."

  Sara snorted. "You managed to turn him into a crater, Hurlish. What's left is halfway buried already."

  "Ha!" Hurlish chuckled, wiping bloody hands on her pants. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

  They gathered up into their usual close bundle as they returned to the militia line, Sara and Hurlish shucking off the hottest parts of their armor and stowing it in their bag. They weren't in the jungle proper, but the humidity was still killer.

  Their entrance to the militia's crowd was met with a cheer, the congratutory cps on Sara's back a constant barrage. She gamely returned the cheers and compliments with a cocky grin, yet didn't turn away from her goal.

  Lying in the center of the formation that Voth was struggling to maintain order of were the id bodies of those injured or killed in the battle. Here were the only members of the militia that weren't jubint, a handful of shellshocked individuals kneeling beside cooling bodies. Sara drew upon all the goddess-blessed charisma she had at her disposal, searching for the proper words to say to them, and was returned the answer 'silence'. She met pintive expressions with a solemn nod, moving on.

  She knelt beside one man, perhaps the worst off of those still alive. A ragged hole in his chest just below the breast was being stitched closed by a panicked young woman, needle jerking in her tremoring hands.

  "Hurlish, get me the health potions."

  The orc reached into their bag while Evie's face twisted, speaking low. "Master, those are limited. We must reserve them for... the most..."

  Evie trailed off as Sara pointedly ignored her. The catgirl scanned over the dozen or so people ying on the reddened grass, writhing in agony.

  "Thank you," Sara said to Hurlish, accepting the offered red vial. She tapped the surgeon's shoulder, garnering her attention for the first time by proffering the healing potion. "You probably know how to get him to swallow that better than I do."

  With wordless gratitude the woman seized the vial and uncorked it, roughly grabbing the back of his head and lifting him up. He groaned in pain, the exhation splitting his lips just enough for her to roughly shove the vial into his mouth.

  "How many do you have?" The woman asked after her charge had finished swallowing, handing Sara back the empty vial.

  "Four, I think. Right, Hurlish?" The orc nodded. "Yeah, four. How many do you have?"

  "None. I used my supply during the battle, so fighters could rejoin the fray."

  "Are you a healer, then?"

  The woman barked a bitter ugh. "No. Our vilge only has the one, so they're far too valuable to risk in battle. I'm just a soldier that knows how to stitch wounds."

  "Funnily enough, that's my qualification, too." Sara picked up a spare set of needle and thread, following the woman while she distributed the potions to those most injured. Sara gnced at Evie. "Could you make a note for me? We need to write down what I know about medical stuff and start distributing it. I thought healers were a good enough substitute, but they're too rare. The new Tulian's going to need surgeons."

  Evie nodded, taking a thin notebook from Hurlish's bag. The woman she was insisting raised an eyebrow. "What have you got pnned for Tulian, Champion?"

  "You'll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I've got to start telling you about germs..."

  The same relieved busywork that overtook Sara after the battle on the ship returned, though with her added experience Sara found it far easier to find somewhere to be useful. Seeing the Champion herself working to help their comrades did something to sober the manic celebration of the milita, allowing Voth to corral them back into a formation. He sent out some of the bow-armed troops to perch in the trees near the various entrances to the valley, forming a picket line to warn of any approaching bandit reprisals.

  Those that didn't take up a defensive posture around the wounded were sent off under Hurlish's instruction, the bcksmith forming a small foraging party to gather supplies in the forest. A pair of sleds were slowly constructed, the wounded too numerous to carry in individual litters. The work was aided by Sara's lending of her supernaturally sharp sword to whittle things into shape, though not dramatically so. Axles and wheels couldn't be made in such a short time frame, which meant that they'd be pcing the roundest logs they could find under the sleds to let them roll in conveyor belt fashion, rotating sets of troops assigned to pick up the logs and jog them back in front to be rolled over again.

  It was well into evening when Sara finally found time to speak to Voth, conversing over the hisses of pain from the man Sara was stitching up.

  "We're not going to make it back before nightfall, are we?" She asked the orc. "Did your men bring camping supplies?"

  "No, but they're country kids. They know how to make do. They'll be mighty hungry by the time we get back tomorrow, but they'll just have to suck it up."

  "What about camping here, then?" Sara asked, referring to the valley they still hadn't left. "It'll be easy to guard, with so few entrances."

  Voth mulled it over, then shook his head. "No. They know where we are, and if enough of 'em decide to hold a grudge they could harass us in the night. We'll need to march a good ways off at the very least."

  "Rough on the wounded."

  "It's the way of it. Your potions were appreciated, by the way, even if hicks like us don't know well enough to tell you that to your face."

  "What else are they for?" Sara asked, gring at the man she was stitching as he flinched once more. The man shrunk under her withering gaze, holding still once more. "We kept one for ourselves, if any of us get too hurt. Afraid to admit we're not perfect altruists."

  "Well, you're still better than most," Voth said, nodding to the thread Sara was winding through red flesh. "Even teaching my troops something while you're at it, if I've heard right. Half the wounded won't shut up about germ this, germ that, and it's spreading. Half the kids with so much as a scratch are refusing to get dirty, treating their papercuts like grandma's silverware."

  "Hate to say it, but they're probably in the right," Sara told him. She finished the st stitch on her patient, giving him a pat to send him on his way. "Though they don't know the whole story. I'd rather them be too paranoid than careless."

  "Well, if you could tell the ones that are sayin' their sprained wrist means they can't pull sled duty that they're full of shit, I'd appreciate it. We're--" Voth's jaw twisted, a puff of air blown through his nose as he tried to hide a yawn. "We're gonna be moving shortly, thank the gods. Anything you want to say to the troops before we set off?"

  "What, like a speech? Why would I?"

  "I ain't deaf, and I ain't a fool. You might've helped us for most of the right reasons, but you're rolling with too practical a crew to be in it for charity. Hurlish and Evie seem like a good sort, but they wouldn't put their lives on the line just 'cause it was the right thing to do. With the way you keep talking about Tulian this, Tulian that, a fellow'd almost start wondering if you know the country doesn't exist anymore. What's your angle?"

  Sara looked up at the armored man, mildly surprised. She knew better than to equate eloquence with intelligence, but the orc's insight still caught her off guard. After a brief deliberation she leaned in, lowering her voice.

  "I'm used to keeping it under wraps, but I suppose it won't matter after tomorrow. I'm pnning to make a new country out of Tulian, a proper society like I haven't seen in this world so far."

  Voth raised an eyebrow. "Proper? Proper how?"

  "Egalitarian. Equal rights, equal peoples, without nobility or any kind of that crap. Ruled by the people, for the people, but for real, unlike the pce that quote's from. I'm pretty sure that's what Amarat dragged me here for, considering the fact she dropped me next door to the only pce in the world that's had all the old nobles up and leave."

  Voth whistled low. "Big pns. Gonna be hell to get it done."

  "Yup. You want in?"

  "Hm? How so?"

  Sara waved to the militia. "You put together a miniature army with weekend practice sessions. I've already got a few experienced fighters and commanders backing me up, ones I've got confidence in, but they can't be everywhere. The bandits you cleared out today aren't unique in Tulian, right?"

  "They aren't."

  "Then how about that? You put together a force, volunteers only, and train them up until you feel confident marching off into the horizon. Any organized bandits or petty tyrants you find, you smash. By the time you get back, there'll be a government ready to pin medals on you and your troop's chests."

  "How much is this gonna pay?" Voth challenged. "For me and the kids I drag along with me, since I know half those brats won't have the sense to not get screwed. We getting supply caravans for food, or are we expected to forage? Are we gonna be paid by percentage of what we loot?"

  "Hell if I know," Sara admitted. "I'm cobbling things together as fast as I can. A budget has been waiting in the wings for a while, so I can't commit to wages right off the bat."

  Evie swept up beside Sara, hands csped behind her back in regal posture. "We will say that you will not be paid by the spoils you accrue, as doing so would encourage too many varieties of unscrupulous behavior. On the other hand, we are prepared to furnish your soldier's weapons without recompense, and hope to have a steady supply of basic steel armor following shortly behind. The equipment, of course, will still be owned by the state, and must be returned upon retirement from armed duty."

  Voth was surprised by Evie's sudden appearance, then further taken off guard by crisp points of negotiation being dictated by a sve. When Sara said nothing to the contrary, he shrugged.

  "Get me numbers on pay. From what you're saying, it sounds like a good gig, but I ain't gonna work for coppers."

  "I'll work on it. We're juggling lots of things in the capital right now, but I'll make it a priority. When I have the numbers I'll come out to your vilge personally for us to set the terms in stone."

  "Good." Voth hid another yawn, stretching while he stared at the still eted troops. "So I guess you're gonna be talkin' half of that over tomorrow at the vilge? Getting the word out?"

  "More or less. Any objections?"

  "Nah. Plenty of people have been liking the way things went since the storm, but there's no arguing that it's getting worse. Goods getting harder to find, folk getting meaner, more selfish. Up till you said what you did, I was still thinking it was better than having nobles back. You do what you said you're gonna do, though, and it might not be so bad to have a few officials breathing down our necks. Only if you do what you cim, mind."

  Interest piqued, Sara asked, "And if I didn't? Just for curiosity's sake."

  "You're gonna have a rebellion on your hands," Voth said matter-of-factly. "Be pretty stupid to arm and train a bunch of folk before going back on your word, wouldn't it?"

  "It would be. Gd you've got the guts to stick to your words, Voth."

  "Once we've cleared out the bandits, I'll be mighty bored, and there ain't much else for an army brat to do other than fight. Idle hands and all that."

  "Unfortunately, Voth, I think there'll be plenty to keep you occupied. Evie here knew King Sporatos personally, and she's betting that he won't take kindly to a Champion-led nation popping up on his border."

  Voth held up his hands. "Now hold on, there. We were talking about fighting bandits. Not Sporatos."

  "And I'll be doing my best to keep it that way." Sara jabbed a thumb towards her armor's engraved symbol of Amarat, pced right over her heart. "Goddess of Diplomats, remember? Don't know if I can keep the hounds of war at bay forever, but I'll be giving you all the time I can."

  "Yeah, well, remind me to retire before things kick off that hard. I ain't in this to fight a royal army. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

  Voth stomped off, hollering at two militia members that had begun to squabble over a trophy cimed from one of the fallen bandits. Sara watched him go, thinking.

  "I think that went pretty well," she said after a moment, voicing her thoughts to Evie.

  "Fairly well, Master. He seems a practical, dedicated man. Ideal for the military life, if not quite ambitious enough for true generalship."

  "I'll take your word for it."