The war had, in its way, diminished me. I could not fight forever. I was a better warrior, that was not the question, but every day my humanity slipped away. It is a short trip from looking upon Heacharids as worthy only of death to finding such loathsome logic creeping further into one's psyche.

Yet I needed a push. I think, had such not come, I would have continued to fight unto the bitter end. I would have been among those few holdouts in the highlands of Axichis, who continued to fight long after the war was judged over by the conquering Heacharids. Even though my own Mythseekers fled before that, I believe I would have stayed.

Were it not for the push.

Ironically, this came in one of the greatest victories the Axichans managed in the course of that damnable war. The battle has many names. The Siege of Kleogara, the Battle of the Bay, the Hubris of the Heacharids, but the name that sticks in my heart is the simplest. I will always think of it as the Wooden Bay.

We knew the Heacharids were massing to attack the city of Kleogara on the isle of Melisis. As the capital of the archipelago, sacking the city would deal a fatal blow to the war effort. When Heacharid ships began to muster on the horizon, the prize upon which they were set was no mystery. We on the Axichan side knew we would either win this battle or lose the war, and so we prepared.

My small fleet was brought in, among the rest of the Axichan navy. General Thaodora gave me my orders. We would be sent to harry the flanks of the Heacharid advance, to prey upon their troop transports. A wise decision, as I could convert whole barges into stormwights and use them to slaughter men still trapped aboard. Such carnage would have shocked me once. Here, I only relished the thought of it.

There was but one Heacharid I thought of. It had been several months since I returned Lysethe to her people. To my knowledge, she had not been seen again. This was a good sign. I believed she was doing what I had ordered, yet part of me feared the thought of seeing her aboard a Heacharid ship. If she appeared, I would slay her, but any amazon she killed would be a blight on my soul.

Axichan forces massed on Melisis most in the streets of Kleogara. We knew the bay defenses would take their toll, but we also knew that we could not prevent the Heacharids from landing. Their numbers were simply too great. The plan would be to hold them in the bay for as long as we could, keeping them from landing all at once as they wanted. Allow the navy to bleed them at sea while the defenders bled them on land.

This was what we were reduced to. Mass butchery. Thus, it was no surprise that, the night before we were to take to the waves, the city had one massive celebration. We would soak in joy before we soaked in blood.

I found myself on a house overlooking the bay, filled with my comrades in arms. The Mythseekers were there, as was Kucyone, admiral of my little fleet. Ulodice, the only other wizard on the Axichan side was there too, as was Ikapeia, the greatest warrior of the amazons. I saw Teidestra, the historian as well as the general's adjutant Eineira. A group of amazons played traditional instruments, their cheerful music fluttering through the night air. Some danced, the rest of us ate and drank. We laughed too loudly as we knew that after the horror coming, it would be a long while before we laughed again.

Ulodice and I sat on a couch together, talking. She was the closest thing to a colleague, though her powers went to far different places than mine. She was a seer, and been instrumental in planning the city's defense.

Ulodice was a fascinating woman. She was of middling height, and her lithe build had only grown more willowy with the deprivations of war. Her head was shaved, tattoos running over her scalp and down into her clothing. Her costume had once been halfway between a traveler's garb and a jester's motley, but pieces had been replaced with functional leather and padding. As we spoke, our familiars, my night eft and her sea bat, playfully chased one another through the garden outside.

"The two of us seem to be in great demand," I remarked.

"This surprises you? They have but two areteoi."

"When we met, you and Phaeliope told me they didn't trust our kind."

"They still do not, but they have not much choice. You've been cultivating your legend."

"Legend," I snorted. "I am but a pirate."

"No, you're not," she said simply. She frowned, and I watched her gather her thoughts with a sip of wine. "We are areteoi, and we are in essence serving two roles. There is what we do, what our magic enables of us. I with my divinations and you with your necromancy."

I did not correct her. The necromancy was a gift of the ring wrapped about the index finger of my left hand, a skeletal serpent biting its own tail. It still contained the whispering essence of a ghoul necromancer, an object of terrible power.

"And then," Ulodice continued, "we are what we mean. We give hope to our people and fill the enemy with terror. This is perhaps even more valuable than the magic itself, the subtle magic we work on the minds of friend and foe."

I think often of these words of Ulodice's. They have since shaped how I see my own role in the wars I would later fight. She was correct, we were most useful to inspire our own and demoralize our enemies.

"Wise words," I said.

"Your Akleona is much improved," she said.

"I've had a great deal of practice."

"I would have rather you would have a more pleasant time to learn."

"As would I."

Teidestra slid into the couch next to me. Her goblet was only half full, the wine thick and red. The historian was a small woman, with long, curly brown hair and the bright golden eyes of the amazons. She wore a chiton that did nothing to hide her shapely figure. Since we had been part of the diplomatic delegation, I had nurtured an attraction for her. She was beautiful and learned woman, and such a contrast physically to the chiseled warriors with whom I spent the bulk of my time.

"Your friend, the little one with the red hair, was doing her best to get me naked," she said.

"You should take her up on the offer. She's quite skilled in that regard."

Teidestra snorted. "This is revenge for the Heacharid, isn't it?"

"Heachard?" Ulodice asked.

"Oh yes. At the peace conference, there was one of them positively dripping for our areteos here. I told him to seduce her, perhaps we could turn her to our side. They spent the rest of the conference believing they were being secretive when they crept off to rut like pigs."

"Rut like pigs?" I raised an eyebrow.

"That was how I heard it," she said.

"I would be pleased to show you precisely how I rut."

"Ask me again later," she said, with a sparkle in her eyes. "I will get more wine."

She got up, swayed once, and set off resolutely. The sexual charge in the air wasn't her alone. More than a few couches were being taken up by amazons in the midst of loveplay or about to commence. I could hear the odd moan of passion, and the faint tang of sex on the air. Out in the courtyard, a nude and oiled Ikapeia was wrestling challengers two at a time. My hetairoi lingered with another pair I recognized as Eineira's, and I was not certain who was seducing whom.

"A Heacharid," Ulodice chuckled. "What did she have between her legs?"

"I imagine much the same as you."

"Except hers had teeth."

I laughed. "Only metaphorical ones, I'm afraid."

Ulodice sipped her wine. "Do you think much about what I've between my legs?"

I looked at her frankly. "I find myself thinking more of it now."

"I know," she said.

"You're a seer," I laughed. "Of course you know."

"It is hardly exact, but some of the spells I cast for defense of the city strayed into other, more carnal matters."

"Would you like to see how accurate your visions are?"

"In time. I did not know you would be so eager."

"We may all die tomorrow."

"And if you will lay with a Heacharid, you are perhaps not terribly choosey."

"You didn't see the Heacharid," I said. The thought of Theophilia stabbed me, I faked levity I didn't feel. The child she'd so proudly conceived with me was likely born, poisoned by the noxious culture of the Heacharids. I wouldn't let her ruin anything else, and certainly not this evening. I put a smile on my face and focused upon Ulodice.

"I'll ask Teidestra."

"Ask me what?" the historian said, settling down on the couch.

"The Heacharid our areteos bedded. Was she comely?"

"Oh yes," Teidestra said. "Like a little doll. Were she open to Eupheric love, perhaps I would have bedded her instead."

"She was quite open to Eupheric love," I said, sipping my wine.

Teidestra spat out a mouthful of wine. "What?"

"She quite enjoyed my hetairoi."

"What is so amusing?" Eineira approached us with a questioning smile. The general's adjutant, Eineira was one of the more powerful women on the island. She had been the one to coordinate with the general's order.

Eineira was tall and slender, her body muscled like a dancer. Her skin was tanned a deep bronze, her hair a fiery copper. Her golden eyes danced as she regarded us, her fine-boned face set in an amused smirk.

"Oh, Belromanazar is regaling us with the seduction of a Heacharid and her introduction into love with amazons," Ulodice said.

"I would not say I'm regaling," I said.

"I spent some time upon the mainland," Eineira said, "in Castellandria."

"I have a house there," I said, and my heart was across the Turquoise Sea. I would have given anything to play Alishum with Zhahllaia or read with Sarakiel. Once again, I pushed my melancholy away.

"I should like to see that," Eineira said, her gaze lingering on me. "My point is that there is a...tradition. Stories about what we get up to over here."

"Stories?" Teidestra asked.

"I saw them when I traveled as well," Ulodice said. "Plays, books, pamphlets, etchings. Axichis is nothing but a perpetual orgy."

"It's hardly perpetual," Teidestra said. She glanced over at one of the couches where a trio of amazons had progressed beyond simple kisses into more passionate loveplay. "Though I've never been to a gathering that did not feature at least a minor orgy."

I opened my mouth to suggest something, when a weight dropped into my lap. A mouth found mine, kissing me hard. The tongue that pushed past my lips tasted of wine, and the hands on my back were strong. She broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. She was lovely, and could have been Xeiliope's sister. A scar ran along her cheek. I recognized her but could not summon the name.

"I wish to try a man and Xeiliope says you are skilled," she said.

"Meda," I said, recalling her name.

"Yes?" she asked.

"No, I just...yes. I would also like a bout of love." Though Teidestra was the one I could not get out of my mind, at the moment, I merely wanted to lay with someone. Meda was fetching and willing. Perhaps Ulodice was right. I was not terribly choosey. I hooked my arms beneath her knees and stood, lifting her in a bridal carry.

"Oh!" she said, her golden eyes lighting up and a smile tugging at her lips.

"Is this how you saw it?" I asked Ulodice.

"Yes," she said mildly, standing up and putting her wine aside, and holding a hand out to Teidestra and Eineira. "Come. The five of us are going to have a lovely time."

Teidestra gulped the last of her wine and took the hand. Eineira shrugged and took the other. Ulodice led the way unerringly through a doorway into a room that looked out upon the ocean. On the horizon, the lights of the Heacharid fleet twinkled like stars rising from the waves. Ulodice lit a fire in the brazier, while I set Meda down on the larger of the couches in the room. Ulodice and Eineira settled on the rug before us, while Teidestra joined Meda and me. Perhaps Teidestra wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I leaned over, kissing my friend. Teidestra was unsure at first, but when I stated to pull away, she pursued. Our tongues slid over one another, and my hand went to her ringlets. I broke from her, and Meda kissed her then. Teidestra was more confident then, the warrior forceful. Watching the two of them, warrior and scholar, embracing in passion, thickened my staff and quickened my breath. Meda then turned her attention to me. The three of us switched between one another, distinctions vanishing in the kiss.

When I could wait no longer, I stood, dropping my clothes to the floor. Meda and Teidestra looked at my staff with wide eyes. The firelight caressed the turgid flesh, shiny with the first of my juices. "Who is going first?" Teidestra asked, unable to tear her eyes from it.

"I am," Meda said with a grin. She too stood, her chiton falling from her body. Her muscles were etched against bronzed skin, a perfection of form wonderfully common among amazons. Her sex was covered in a light fleece of honey blonde hair, matching the short coif on her head. A few glistening droplets clung like morning dew to the individual hairs.

Teidestra took a deep breath, and, trembling, dropped her chiton. She had a lovely body, thin and soft, a fetching black triangle of hair over her sex. I caressed her body, pulled her into another kiss. Her breasts brushed over me, her dark nipples hardening at the touch. Meda knelt over me.

She shivered. "Your finger is cold."

I looked at the ring about it. Since I wore the ring, it was never warmer than the air about it, and could feel quite frigid. "It can be quite fun."

Her eyes were wide, and her voice quiet. "I look forward to it."

"How does this work, wizard?" she asked.

I ran a hand up her muscular thigh to the quivering lips of her sex. Then, gently but forcefully, I took her hip and pulled her. "You cannot be so ignorant of how to sheathe a spear."

"I had no interest," she said. "I still would not, but one night when we were abed, Xeiliope told me of her dalliances with men. You and...Thrandlas the half-elf."

"Oh?"

"Yes, she said Thrandlas is sweeter, but you are more skilled."

"I suppose I should thank Xeiliope."

"Indeed you should." She sank over me, her eyes going wide as I entered her. "Oh!"

"A new sensation?"

"Yes and no," she said, shivering, her breath quick. "I have had phalloi, of course, but they are crafted of unliving bone. They have not your warmth, nor that wonderful softness..."

I looked up to find Ulodice and Eineira standing on either side, peering over Meda's shoulders at where we were joined. They were both nude, and breathtaking in their way. Eineira was the taller of the two, her sculpted form a study in grace. A coppery red ruff blazed from between her legs. Ulodice's sex was hairless like the rest of her. The swirling tattoos from her scalp covered her body, flowing over her muscles, spiraling up her breasts and down her legs.

I reached next to me, running my hands up Teidestra's legs, then over the fleece at their apex, finding her soaking. She sucked in a breath, but her eyes were on Eineira. Her eyes were now on Teidestra, a blooming attraction in the turgid air.

"Hold," I said to Meda. She looked at me questioningly. I eased out of her, then lay back onto the couch. "Now," I said. Then, to Ulodice, "And you, come here."

She smiled, kneeling over my hungry mouth. Her tattoos ended at the edges of her nether lips, the ornate lines growing small and thready as they neared the glistening border. I licked her thighs, tasting the first of her nectar, my explorations dancing around her flared sex. Ulodice smelled faintly and not unpleasantly of the sea, her flavor salty with a touch of musk. The more I found it collecting on her thighs, the more I craved it. Her tattoos also fascinated me. From a distance, they could be mistaken for solid lines, in the same turquoise color that marked the hetairoi. Closer, their true intricacy was obvious, transforming Ulodice's body into a stunning work of art. I traced them with my tongue, nibbling the edges with my teeth.

I pulled her closer to me, my hunger for her sex overpowering. At the same time, I felt Meda sliding down my staff, taking me deeper. She shivered, the quakes of her body sparking the first of the storm brewing in my belly. Her strong hands were against my chest, holding herself steady as she sank over my manhood. Finally, she took me to the hilt. For a moment she was still, luxuriating in our joining. Then she began to grind. Then, she eased off me, then fell. She quickly developed her stroke, a sudden drop with increasing force, a hard grind of her sex, then a slow rise.

Ulodice sighed, gyrating gently against my inquisitive tongue. I slid my fingers into her, beckoning her, and she gasped at the cold touch. I felt her fist close in my hair, her thrusts growing more insistent. Meda too, her fucking violent as though she was trying to defeat me.

The storm grew in my belly, and each time Meda impaled herself, it expanded. I gripped Ulodice's hips, flaying her with my mouth. Her guttural moans grew louder, joining with Meda's insistent grunts. I felt Ulodice begin to quake, her body in tune with mine and Meda's.

As the storm burst from me, I clamped my mouth over Ulodice's pearl and sucked. The two of them broke in moans, shuddering against me. I flooded Meda with the first of my explosions of the night. I knew it wouldn't be my last.

For a moment, we rested there, catching our breath, me drinking in the seer's delicious scent. Then Ulodice dismounted, taking my face in her hand and kissing me. "That was lovely."

"Better than your dreams?"

"We're not finished."

"You will need to give me a moment."

"I think I can rouse you again." She looked at my mouth, then impulsively, sucked my lower lip between hers, caressing it with her tongue. She was so fascinating, with her swirling, turquoise tattoos, her shaved head, her bright golden eyes. The more I looked at her, the more beautiful I found her.

"Yes, I think I might like that," Meda mused, standing. My seed flowed sluggishly from her, down her thighs, frosting her fleece. "Although perhaps not a habit."

Next to us, Eineira and Teidestra were entwined, their hands between the other's legs, their mouths on one another's. I leaned over, brushing the hair from Teidestra's neck and kissed her pulse. She broke from Eineira for just a moment, kissing me. A tiny frown creased her features as she opened her eyes, realizing she was kissing me and not one of the others. Then she went back for another, this one more passionate.

"Don't forget me, love," Eineira said.

"I won't," said Meda, pulling the adjutant to her feet. "It is time for two warriors to lay together."

Before Eineira could say anything, Meda kissed her hard. I was mesmerized by the beauty of the amazons. This was the sight that all of those mainlanders had focused their lascivious fantasies upon. Their muscles writhed beneath their taut bronze skin as these two powerful women explored one another.

"Come," Eineira said, pulling Meda to the floor. She spread her legs, and bade the other warrior to do the same. Entwining themselves, their sexes met in the blessed crossroads. As they began to gyrate against one another, I watched as my seed frothed between them, the honey blonde curls of Meda with the copper red of Eineira.

Teidestra was partly across me. Her skin was shiny with sweat and her breath quivery with arousal. She had not yet found her first bliss of the night and her gaze was hungry. She looked at my staff, still recovering from Meda's attentions. "I thought these were supposed to be hard?" she said to Ulodice.

"Men require time between," Ulodice said, then nodded to Eineira and Meda. "Although I believe we can help things along, especially with the two of them providing such a lovely sight."

Ulodice knelt before me, not far from the two amazons grinding themselves against one another. Eineira's breasts were heaving, an explosion deferred. Both of them were shiny with perspiration, the golden light of the brazier rendering them as visions in bronze. The areteos took Teidestra's hand and drew her down. Each leaned against one of my knees. Teidestra looked at my staff with interest, her scholar's face fascinated.

"What will we do?" Teidestra asked.

"You've dived for pearls of course."

The historian nodded. "Many times."

"This will be like that...but different. They call it spear-polishing on the mainland."

"The knight's kiss," I said.

Ulodice smiled. "I have heard that one as well. Covers both a spear-polish and a pearl-dive."

"You have done this?"

"Oh yes, in my travels. Once, I gave myself to a pair of orcs. Took me from either end." A smile spread over her face. "Nothing teaches you technique like trying to maintain concentration while a great beast of a man pounds you from behind. Now, observe." Ulodice took me in hand, running her tongue up my shaft. "Now you."

Teidestra tentatively reached for me. Ulodice put her hand about me, their fingers interlacing. "Taste," Ulodice said.

Teidestra leaned in. Her tongue was small, and her features delicate and doll-like. Her golden eyes were dark, like burnished treasure, and wide as she inspected me. Her attitude was at once fascinated and aroused, desire tempered with curiosity. She licked along me, smacking her lips. "Salty."

"Some of that is Meda," Ulodice said with a smile.

"I like the taste of her," Teidestra said.

"You will get more when I am finished with this one," Meda said, pushing down with her sex, grinding brutally into Eineira.

Ulodice ran her tongue up me. I was beginning to swell, the sight of the two amazons writhing against each other, and now these two were doing their work. Teidestra went back for another pass. And then the two of them were alternating, with wide, flat strokes of their tongues from the base of my coin purse to the tip of my spear.

Finally, Ulodice moved her head up, taking me into her hot mouth. She sucked, her tongue running over me. She made it halfway down my shaft, then backed off. "I am out of practice," she said.

"It's lovely," I assured her. I looked to Teidestra. "Now you try."

Teidestra was game, running up and over my length. At the apex she hesitated. A glance at Ulodice, then at me, then she opened her mouth and took me in. The sight of her delicate mouth distended over the my staff was perhaps the most fetching sight of all. She got down over my head before retreating with a slurp. A bit of drool fell from her lips, and she wiped it away.

"No, use your spittle," Ulodice said. She kissed the head of me, spitting once over the purplish flesh. "Go again."

Teidestra looked at the small white wad of spittle, but she took it in her mouth, shivering in pleasure as she brought it in. I felt her tongue running over that spot, eagerly collecting Ulodice's saliva.

"Use your tongue," I said. "Suck if you like."

"Spittle is good," Ulodice said. "Get him wet."

Teidestra made a noise of assent, and out of her delicate mouth, lines of saliva ran down my length. She released me and Ulodice took over. They went like this, a lick, a suck, each time taking me a tiny bit deeper. I was hard as a stone now, the thunderclouds booming inside me.

The two amazons continued their lewd dance, their hips gyrating as they pressed their orchids together. Their breath hitched, their skins shiny with exertion. They were steadily barreling toward release.

With a growl, I hauled Teisdestra up. Her eyes were wide with surprise and smoky with desire. Ulodice gently turned her about, so that she was facing away from me, then angled her precisely. I felt the hot kiss of her sex, her fleece soaking. Her lips met Teidestra's, their tongues caressing. Then the seer pushed the historian down.

Teidestra let out a surprised cry, her body shuddering in bliss as I entered her. I held her as her body quaked against mine. I was buried in her, my staff at the very gates of her womb. My mouth found her neck, my hands went up her sides to her breasts, caressing her small nipples. They were hard under my touch. I brushed my lips up her spine and to the nape of her neck. She was warm about me, her wetness running down me.

She cried out to the moon, and then I began to move, pushing myself up, lifting her with my hips. That only continued her bliss, the quakes steadily rolling through her. Then, I felt Ulodice's tongue, running from my coin purse, up to where Teidestra and I were joined, then at the historian's pearl. Teidestra screamed again, her body collapsing into shudders again. The bliss did not end, we were merely sparking it, letting it fade, then hurling her into heights again.

I pushed my hand into her hair, gathering a handful as I drove myself up into her. I took her brutally while Ulodice continued her attentions. Teidestra never came down from her bliss. Stoked first by Eineira, then here, in this ecstatic union between the three of us. Teidestra's cries were deafening, with every thrust of mine. I held onto my own bliss, not wanting to lose myself, besotted with nothing more than laying with his perfect creature. I do not know how long we prolonged her pleasure, but her voice was hoarse and her writhing weak.

She was but rags when Ulodice took her from me. She helped the nerveless historian from my slick staff, brought her to the other couch, then gently lay her down. Teidestra was limp, covered in sweat, breathing heavily. Ulodice turned to me in triumph. "Well done."

Meda and Eineira had finished their crossroads, watching us exhaust little Teidestra. I pulled Eineira to me. She was the only one I hadn't had yet and I wanted her. Meda was only too happy to take her turn with Ulodice. We did not remain in separate pairs for long. Soon I had Eineira on all fours while she ate Ulodice, while Meda straddled the areteos's hungry face. When I finally spent myself in Eineira's womb, the adjutant collapsed into her own shudders.

At the end of our night, the five of us cuddled onto the larger of the couches. I held the sleeping Teidestra before me, Ulodice was pillowed on my hip, and I rested on Eineira's belly.

"That was wonderful," the adjutant murmured.

"It was," I said.

I listened to the soft breath of our three lovers, each one deep in slumber.

"Belromanazar? I wish you luck in the coming battle."

"And I you."

"Tell me something. Why do you fight for us?"

"When I began, it was for my friend Xeiliope."

"And now?"

"Now..." My thoughts filled with my hetairoi, my closest companions who had bled a thousand times for me and would die for me without hesitation. "Now I fight for those I have met. I fight for vengeance for the ones who have fallen."

"Where does that end?"

"I don't know."

I knew then that I was an automaton, dancing on the strings placed there by war itself. No longer in control of myself, but rather an avatar of death.

I was on the deck of Naeri's Revenge the next day. We sailed away from the harbor, placing a small, uninhabited island between us and the Heacharid fleet. We were two days on the water, waiting for the battle to begin. Each night, I lay with my hetairoi. There was sadness to our loveplay, as though we were aware that these would be the last time we were together in this way. The three of us knew one another so well that we could find bliss easily. They were always attentive and ever eager.

Afterwards on the second night, as the three of us cuddled in the hammock, Einoë spoke softly. The air was warm with us and redolent with the scent of our love. "Tent brother. It has been the honor of my life to be sworn to you."

"I wish I were worthy of your devotion," I said, kissing her coppery hairline.

"You are worthy, tent brother," Kallea said.

My lips found her fingers, kissing along the turquoise tattoos that marked her as a hetairos. "If I am, it is by your example."

"I was insulted when they gave us to you," Einoë said.

"We were," Kallea added.

"I remember," I said. "You hated me."

"We did not hate you. We had contempt for you."

"We're sorry for that," Einoë said.

"But now? We are the ones they fear. The spearmaidens of the Dreadstorm."

"My thunderheads," I said, kissing each in turn. I nearly roused myself for another bout of love, but foolishly, I thought to myself that there was always another night, and I should not exhaust myself further.

We settled in to sleep, each hetairos with her head pillowed in the crook of my shoulder. There are many nights I awaken and just for a moment, I am there. My hetairoi on either side, the creak of the ship as it rocks on the tides, the smell of the sea, the pleasant fatigue of love on my bones. But then awareness comes, and I must grieve again.

The attack started at dawn on the third day. Kucyone, the admiral of my little fleet, ordered us into the fray, ready to sink ships along the flank. The Heacharids had placed their troop barges between escort ships. We would have to peel those away to get to their undebelly. Fortunately, we had become quite skilled at naval warfare over the last two years.

Our tactics had been to ambush lone ships or pick off stragglers and escape before force could be brought to bear. Here there was no such chance, as the Heacharid fleet had massed. The Axichans had moved their ships from the harbor and would be attacking from the west. We were part of a larger but unorganized task force on the east.

We all knew the goal: get me close enough to turn enemy crew and let them do the rest. It was not much of a plan. The saving grace would be that the Heacharids could not afford a delay. They wanted to land at Kleogara as quickly as possible with the mass of their forces, and dancing with pirates would stymie that.

We attacked out of the rising sun. This was the only way we were able to draw close, and we hit the first escort frigate before they could react. The first ship went down quickly, stormwights scuttling over its burning deck, putting crew to the sword.

This was when the others wheeled about to attack. The Lament of Axichis speaks a bit about my fleet's role in the battle, though it is perhaps light on the details. I will attempt to outline what was done that red day, for it would shape much of what followed.

We caused untold chaos among the Heacharid ranks. Many ships littered the bottom of the Turquoise Sea that day. The bay at Kleogara was filled with so many destroyed ships that it was as though the water itself were made of wood. My prey never made it that far.

The Heacharids placed a premium on my death. Once they knew the Dreadstorm was upon the deck of Naeri's Revenge, they massed to attack the ship. We fought valiantly, but there is no substitute for the simple arithmetic of numbers. I could sink their ships, turn their sailors, slay their captains, but there were always more. The sea was a frothing ruin, filled with burning wreckage, drowning men, and feasting sharks.

It was inevitable that we would be boarded. A Heacharid ship smashed into Naeri's Revenge, its ram tearing through the deck, lodging in the broken wood. I was thrown against the gunwale, and as I steadied myself, Heacharids leapt down upon us. The slaughter commenced. The deck grew slippery with blood. The melee was savage, any pretense of glory and honor gone in the horror of war.

I watched the old captain, Kucyone, her pipe clamped between her teeth, cut her way through Heacharid boarders with incredible skill. "Wizard!" she called. "Look to The Huntress!"

The ship she named was close, locked in its own battle, but a few of the sailors were throwing ropes to crew from Naeri's Revenge pulling them from the crimson water before the fish could make a meal of them.

"I have Heacharids to slay!" I called back. And this was where I damned my tent sisters. I should have gone overboard, been rescued and regrouped, but the battle was upon me. I was not truly in control, but dancing upon the twin strings of rage and revenge. I could do nothing more than feed the bottomless hunger of war. Stuff it full of corpses while it howled for more.

I climbed the prow of the Heacharid ship, making it to the deck. I drew the elven blade at my side and hurled lightning into the sailors. They fell, then rose, their ruined countenances slithering with lightning.

I roared to to the living Heacharids in Akleona, in hopes that they would understand. "Come, warriors of Xomera! I am the Dreadstorm! Come to me and find your death!"

Many years later, during my time with the orcs, I would learn an explanation of what happened on that day. Outsiders refer to the orcish god Yegoth as one of war, but it is not accurate. Valor would be a better word for his domain, though I find even that word wanting. The orcs taught me that a god's spirit could enter one when they are in the midst of an action that is exceptionally pleasing to them. It was this that I felt now, and I would feel it again when with my orcish friends. At the time, I felt only the purity of the act, the nobility of my anger, and the invincibility of my position.

My hetairoi stood by me. They were magnificent. Their skill was incomparable, slaying numberless Heacharids in my defense. But there were always more, and more besides. My presence was known, even announced, and the Heacharids saw their chance to destroy me. Other ships closed in, boarders swarming over the gunwales. We could not last forever.

Kallea was wounded first. A Heacharid opened up her leg. He was swiftly killed for his trouble, but she could no longer stand upon the wounded limb. Einoë was next, a bright slash on her arm. We were pushed against the gunwale, our backs to the sinking mass of Naeri's Revenge. The Heacharids pressed their advance. Mounting injuries slowed my tent sisters and my own power was waning swiftly.

We hurled back a wave. Another massed for a charge. This would be the end. In that moment, I did not mind. If I was going to die with anyone, it should be with my tent sisters. Einoë and Kallea, standing upright only through force of will, their flesh and armor red with blood, swaying with exhaustion. Even Oddrin was tired, clutching my shoulder with quivering claws.

"Knowing you two has been the honor of my life," I said, ready to complete my journey to oblivion.

"Belromanazar," said Einoë. "There is something you must do."

Kallea glanced at her tent sister, and a moment of understanding passed between them. "When the Heacharids are upon us, you must slay us."

"What?" I was incredulous, horrified. Yet I saw the awful logic.

"We cannot fight like this," Einoë said. "But as stormwights, we can protect you even in death."

"I can't."

"You must," insisted Kallea, steeling herself for the coming charge. "Please, tent brother. Give us this. Do not let us fail our vows."

The Heacharids hit us like an avalanche. This would be the wave that would break us. Their blades bit into the hetairoi, and though my tent sisters fought with impossible valor, death was ready to take them both.

"Please, tent brother!" cried Einoë.

Kallea opened her mouth and a Heacharid shoved a blade into her belly. It would be a killing stroke.

Blinking back tears, I flung lightning through them. Kallea died first, Einoë right after. Diotenah's magic whispered triumphantly in my ears as it wormed through the bodies of my hetairoi. Their flesh fell away, turning them into leering revenants, blue lightning crawling over their ruined bodies.

I sobbed in rage as my hetairoi rose from the dead and returned to the slaughter. I do not know how long we battled, but finally, Naeri's Revenge hauled the Heacharid ship into the deep. My hetairoi went with it, killing our enemies even as the sea claimed them.

I floated amongst the wreckage for a time until Kucyone, on the deck of The Huntress hauled me up. She spoke to me, but I could not hear. I could only stare in horror, my eyes blank. Every second, I felt myself gathering the magic that would slay my tent sisters. I felt myself releasing it. I begged myself not to, this time, let them live. But I could not. I could only slay.

This was what the war had made of me.

The battle was a resounding victory for the amazons, but even in this victory the seeds of their ultimate defeat were apparent. Heacharid losses were uncountable. We burned what bodies we could and cast the remains into the sea. They received no blessing of their precious goddess. They were merely forgotten names, denied whatever reward their poisonous religion promised.

Many amazons died that day as well. Far, far fewer than the Heacharids, but numbers of dead had different meanings. While the Heacharids could afford such losses, the amazons could not. Even a victory was a defeat.

The Heacharids retreated at sundown, and the next morning, we sailed into a harbor choked with death. All three of Kucyone's remaining ships needed repairs, but they were still seaworthy. She'd transferred her command to The Huntress, officially calling herself admiral. She feigned joviality at this, but I think she saw the inevitable loss in the victory.

I was numb. I was still stuck in the battle itself, reliving that moment where I killed the two people who loved me perhaps more than any other. For they did not love me as a mate, nor as a commander. It was different, containing elements of all. It was a bond I did not understand and would never truly experience again.

Eineira met me at the pier, her face alight. I thought of her in the moments after our loveplay, when she and I were the only ones awake. The thought of her touch was anathema to me in that moment.

"Belromanazar. General Thaodora would meet with you."

I followed without conversation. I think that in that moment she could have compelled me to do anything. I was empty. My spell had killed more than merely my tent sisters. It had made a wight of me too.

"I heard what you did upon the waves, wizard," she said. "I must admit, I am...relieved to see you alive."

I did not respond. We arrived at Thaodora's tent soon thereafter.

The general turned as I entered, and the light in her eyes made me think she believed this to be a victory as Eineira seemed to. "You did well, areteos. You have the gratitude of all Axichis."

"My hetairoi," I managed, the words broken.

"Yes. I understand they fell in heroic fulfillment of their vow. I'll see to it that you're assigned a new pair. The finest warriors I have. In the meantime, take time to recover. The Heacharids will be on their heels for a time."

She watched me awkwardly. Horror choked me. No words would fit out of my mouth.

"Very well then. Off you go," she said finally.

I left, Eineira following with me. "Are you well?"

"What?"

She repeated herself. "You look ghastly."

"I cannot...I need to leave."

"To your quarters outside of Naeri? Of course. In a week, I would join you."

"No," I said. "I need to leave. This place, the islands, the war."

"You cannot mean that."

"I can and I do."

"Belromanazar, we need you. You are what they fear."

"Fear?" I whirled on her, the anger and despair spilling from me. "The Heacharids fear nothing. Look around you. Look how many died. Yet the Heacharids will return as though it never happened and they will throw away countless more soldiers. This should teach you one thing and one thing only: the Heacharids will spend as many lives as it takes to own this place."

Eineira sighed. "You are hurt. Not your body, but in your heart. Return to Naeri, Belromanazar. I will tell Thaodora, and she will happily dispatch me to you for a time."

"You are not listening!"

Her gaze was stone. "You think we cannot win this war. I will not believe this and I will die before I know if it is true."

I stared at her in mounting horror. In her eyes now blazed fanaticism I saw not only in the eyes of my tent sisters, but in the Heacharids. I knew that if I had seen my eyes yesterday, I would have seen the same mad fire.

"Go," she said. "I will join you. Perhaps I can send word to Ulodice, Teidestra, and Meda. We will take care of you."

"No, Eineira. I am leaving. The blockade will take time to recover, and I will find the first smuggler who will take me, and I will sail from this place."

"Please, Bel. Think before you do this."

But I had thought of it.

The ship in question was The Burning Knave, which slipped through the ragged blockade to make port at Kleogara. It emptied its hold to the starved city and I made my arrangements to travel. The captain, a wily smuggler named Jerrika Grendel, accepted my charter, though she warned me that, as she had just come from Castellandria, we would be going in the opposite direction. I did not care. Away was enough.

Those who know the name Jerrika Grendel might be surprised to find her here, in this context. It was far from what she became, but this was how our paths initially crossed. I will speak more of her later, when the stormclouds of her story coalesce.

At this time, Jerrika was a striking woman. I would learn she hailed from Mairault, with a golden complexion, and cheekbones dusted with youthful freckles. Her eyes were a tawny brown, sharp and perceptive. She was dressed in a sailor's costume of fitted breeches, a tunic and waistcoat, a heavy jacket and a wide hat. She was barefoot, and I would learn later that Jerrika despised footwear. Her curly red hair was bound into a fat tail.

A slight smirk was always tugging at the corner of her lips. "I have a little space in the hold now," she said in rough Eomet. "If that's good enough for a wizard."

"Good enough," I said, paying her with the meager coin I'd held onto.

I returned to my quarters at Kleogara to fetch my few belongings. The place felt emptier than empty. The hetairoi were dead. Even Lysethe, who had become part of the household, was gone on her own errand. It was Oddrin and I, two ghosts, caught in this place.

"Bel." I turned. The Mythseekers stood my doorway. It was Velena who spoke, her pale eyes filled with concern. Xeiliope's face was set, her expression stormy. Little Alia was unreadable.

"I am leaving," I said.

"We heard."

"How dare you," Xeiliope demanded, pushing past the others.

"Xeiliope," Velena protested.

"How dare I? I've been fighting for over two years," I said. "I am done."

"Coward," Xeiliope spat.

"He is no coward, Alia said mildly. "You know that as well as any of us."

"Then why is he leaving?"

"You want to know why I am leaving this war?" I growled. "I was on the water for the defense of this city. I slew more Heacharids than anyone. My ship was destroyed under my feet. My hetairoi were killed protecting me. I killed them. They begged me to do it, to make them stormwights to protect me after death."

"Oh, Bel," Velena moaned, moving closer, her arms out. She stopped when Xeiliope paced in front of her, cutting her path off.

"People have been dying since the beginning. Hetairoi are honored to die. The fact that you lived means their sacrifice was not idly made. They are shining examples of their order and we should celebrate them."

I wheeled on Xeiliope. I had never hated her before that moment, but I hated her then. "And do you know what happened next? The general promised me new hetairoi."

"Yes?" said Xeilope, the bafflement plain on her face.

"I made them stormwights and Thaodora would give me new tent sisters! Like Einoë and Kallea never existed!"

I turned away, the grief rearing up to throttle me. One of them must have tried to approach, for Oddrin hissed. I never knew who it was. I like to think it was Alia, but this will forever remain a mystery.

"This is--" Xeiliope started.

"Stop," Velena said.

"You take his side."

"He cannot fight anymore. He's given everything he can. It is time for him to find peace."

"Let him leave then. He leaves not only the war, he leaves the Mythseekers. He leaves us."

I swallowed, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Your terms are acceptable," I said. And I walked out. Alia called after me once, but I did not turn.

The Mythseekers had been sundered. I would not see them for many years. I would learn later that they remained in the war for another year before they had to flee. They turned back to adventuring after that.

There are times I wonder what would have happened had I stayed. If I could have changed the outcome of the war. I do not think so. In the initial aftermath of my choice, I was certain that I could have, but the clarity of years, and several more wars, has given me the vantage to see this for what it was. Axichis fell the instant the Heachard Empire turned its baleful attention upon her. All we could do was delay.

I delayed them for years. I filled more than my fair share of graves. And then I slipped away.

No, I could not have changed the outcome of the war. But perhaps if I knew what would soon befall me, I might have tried.