“Come on,” she huffed. Her vision swirled in a fresh wave of dizziness. Vischuno quickened his pace. Korden took the opportunity to force Jularra to grab another swig of water.
Vischuno reached the spot where Jularra sat and dropped to his knees after Jularra waved hurriedly at him. Even on his knees, Vischuno’s shadow still covered her.
“Someone hold the severed piece up to the rest of his arm,” she ordered. “Almost touching.”
A Bedrock slipped around the grouped figures and held the severed limb as instructed. Jularra reached up and gently grasped one of the severed arm’s fingers, and touched his leg with her other arm. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.
“Not yet!” Korden barked. “It’s too soon!”
But Jularra had already invoked her advanced healing abilities. With her hands touching both Vischuno’s body and severed arm, she willed the microscopic growth of nerve, bone, vein, fat, and tissue, and made the damaged areas reach out and join, connecting with each other once more. Vischuno grunted in pain at the sudden stimulation and movement of the area. A few seconds later, the arm was re-attached.
The surrounding crowds gasped with respect and awe as Jularra turned to Korden.
“Ok,” she said, in a breathy whisper. “Going to sleep. Be back soon.”
Her head fell back. Her body went limp again as she passed out in Korden’s arms.
Eight
The imposing men and women of Acorilan settled into formation.
As the day’s first light began to scale the mountains, Jularra’s forces marinated in the subtle humidity of a lavender fog. The outermost leaves of the trees were tipped with gold, anticipating the beginning of the rapidly approaching autumn. The sparse spots of corn, almost ready for harvest, stretched proudly to the sun despite their loneliness in the faltering fields.
The queen’s army stood patiently, waiting to march. Korden and Jularra listened as the last few ranks were called to take their place. The commanders’ barks and shouts rang through the valley, rebounded off the mountains, and stoked the fires of war in each fighter. Some tried to postpone the shift from a peaceful to a violent mentality by closing their eyes and inhaling the mountain breeze, but it was only an illusion fueled by the darkness of their lowered eyelids. As soon as their eyes opened once more, the sight of armor, sounds of instruction, and smells of legion upon legion of warriors trampled their senses. The beauty of peace had to be stowed away, forced to survive indefinitely on a dwindling sustenance of hope.
While the infantry finished the remaining preparations, Jularra and Korden rode a hundred feet up Qualla Trail. The view over the valley was unparalleled, and offered a perfect vantage point before their departure.
Korden held his hand up to the sun and then glanced at the nearby sunpost.
“About ten minutes,” he said.
Jularra glanced at the sunpost with its sundial mounted on top, confirming how the shadow fell along the ground. She turned back to the valley.
“Pull our archers out from behind Pindle Ridge and move them to the front,” she ordered Korden. “With the Spire right behind them, they’ll be able to move through the fields and village quickly.”
“Right,” Korden confirmed. He turned his horse, ready to head back down the trail. “Anything else?”
“No, it looks good,” she said while snapping a nod. “The Ridgerazers are in place?”
Korden stopped and turned back towards Jularra. “Mm-hmm. And the ones already there know to fall back once the attack begins.”
“Good.” Jularra scanned the valley again. “Good,” she repeated. “Let’s move those archers and get ready to go.”
They descended Qualla Trail in silence. Over the years, the two old friends had directed various skirmishes, border disputes, and defenses against raids, but this was the first time they had ever instigated war. There was a tinge of doubt in their initial discussion over the possibility of launching a preemptive attack, but that uncertainty had long passed. Internal propaganda, political marketing, and the increasing visibility of a slowly starving populace eliminated any misgivings. Jularra, and the people of Acorilan, welcomed this war.
Korden and Jularra hit the bottom of the trail and exchanged half-bows before Korden trotted off to see to the movement of the archers.
Jularra crested the hill leading into the neighboring valley and came upon the impressive gathering of Ridgerazers. As she approached, they silently turned towards her in unison, clasping their hands together behind their backs before bowing. The Ridgerazers were a mixture of women and men; different in every way possible, but united in magic.
“Ah, impressive,” she murmured to herself. The Ridgerazers remained sturdy in the presence of their queen. “Is everyone prepared?”
Grand Ridgerazer Truzona stepped out and spoke for the entire group. Her voice was relaxed. “Our instructions are clear, and we are prepared, my queen.”
Jularra nodded. “The advance Ridgerazers are in place and are ready.” She strained to view another nearby sunpost and turned back to Truzona. “Five minutes.”
Truzona nodded and returned to her fellow Ridgerazers. “Prepare yourselves!” she commanded, then closed her eyes. The pitch of her voice lowered, simultaneously beginning to grow in volume and reverberate through the immediate area. “Center! Summon your strength. Unite our energies! Focus on our task.”
The Grand Ridgerazer’s voice lowered more. The sounds she emitted seemed to split, almost as if she were speaking with numerous voices. The volume and strength of the echo continued to grow.
As the Ridgerazers initiated their ritual, Jularra looked back across the valley. Her people were ready, and the archers had been moved. Her skin tingled with the anticipation of battle. She flexed her toes in her boots and stretched her feet inside her stirrups.
Jularra looked to the sunpost. The creeping shadow closed in on a minute from their marching time. With a glance to a pair of waiting Bedrock, Jularra signaled for them to sound a final call to attention. Their horns—massive combinations of natural and artificial construction—were made mostly of buffalo horn, with substantial extensions of leather and wood attached to the wide openings. The Bedrock slid
