The Sensual Storm That Kills  

For a dozen heartbeats the bailey crowd stood stunned. But the surprise only lasted a moment before pandemonium erupted. With their leader slain before their eyes, the soldiers flew into disarray, unsure whether to obey the dead man's order or not.

Amara acted swiftly before the chaos turned to riot. She amplified her voice using the moonstone staff. "Warriors of Pelian! Stay your hands! More bloodshed will only deepen divisions we must mend."

Some soldiers wavered, but zealous loyalists snatched up the fallen captain's call to arms. "Death to the foreign sorceress!" A hail of arrows arched toward Amara's position on the parapet. She deflected them with a shimmering glyph, but the attack left little room for further diplomacy. Battle was joined whether she willed it or not.

Boom! Boom!

"To arms!" Velkan drew his sword and led their outnumbered detachment to meet the climbing mob of rebels boiling up the interior stairwell.

Amara invoked fiery blasts to stem the tide, wincing as men fell screaming. But there was no time for squeamishness. The Pelian forces clearly intended to overrun their position.

On the rear parapet, Rhys carved a path through the foe with whirling strikes, buying time for the Cerulean marines to form up. But the rogue was soon isolated battling alone amidst a sea of enemies. Amara started toward him only to be forced back as rebel archers on a neighbouring tower took aim.

There was no reaching Rhys at the moment. Cursing helplessly, Amara could only guard his back with mystic arrows of light to pick off the most threatening foes. She saw him flash a fierce grin between parries, knowing her intent if not her exact tactics. They would have words later about reckless heroics. That is, if they survived this unfolding chaos.

"Kill them all!"

"Gut the witch first!"

"Don't let them push ahead the barricade!"

"Archers at the ready!"

The battle quickly devolved into wild melees as loyalist reinforcements poured into the fortress. Amara soon lost sight of Rhys, swallowed by the roiling mass of combatants. Her attentions narrowed to stemming attacks on the parapet, snatching breathing space to reinforce tiring warriors with healing magic. But their enemy seemed numberless. For each man struck down, two more appeared frothing with fanatic rage. Even Velkan's mighty sword arm grew leaden after hours of ceaseless slaughter.

Amara swayed on her feet. The staff had long since slipped from her numb fingers as she wove spells of fire and light that tore at her spirit. How long could their fragile bridgehead withstand this pounding tide? Through the crimson haze of battle she glimpsed the sun sinking toward the sea like an accusatory eye glaring at this field of fratricide. They had gambled and failed. Night would see the last of them dead or captive unless...

In desperation, Amara reached inward for the last untapped wellspring of power. The Hallow Skull nestled at the bottom of her travel sack, a secret ace hidden from hostile eyes. She had sworn not to use its ancient forces except in utmost need. But their straits could scarce be more dire. Forgive my weakness, she prayed silently. But let no more suffer for my sake this day.

With blood-slick hands, she withdrew the carved skull from its muffled depths, heedless of who might witness now. The battle's din faded as she attuned her senses to the Hallow Skull's pulsating aura. It seemed to recognize her instinctive purpose, reacting swiftly to her mental entreaty. Amara lifted the skull skyward as it blazed crimson.

"Storm-winds, heed me!" Her raw cry pierced the fetid air. "Break!"

BOOM!

In response, the wind picked up from a breeze to a howl in seconds. Men staggered as powerful gusts slammed the battlefield. Cries of shock went up from friend and foe alike as the clear evening sky purpled unnaturally fast. Bloated thunderheads roiled as if drawn by unseen hands overhead.

Amara swayed, nearly faint with the effort of calling forth the unnatural tempest. Only the Hallow Skull's thirsty power kept her upright, pulsing into her as she siphoned the storm's fury. The clouds churned ever lower, its promising fire and fury barely contained.

With a final shuddering invocation, Amara loosed the winds. The first volley of hailstones battered the stunned combatants, who could only cower or flee this elemental onslaught. Thunderbolts cracked in searing display, blasting craters in the bailey tiles and flinging men like limp ragdolls. Within minutes the fortress resembled a butcher's hall, so many bodies littered the ground. Only the most stalwart rebels yet clung to the parapets with their arrows glancing uselessly off Amara's whirling shield.

Maintaining the aerial assault taxed Amara to her very marrow. She shook violently, nose bleeding, vision threatening to blacken. But she only squeezed the Hallow Skull tighter, willing the storm's fury higher. If this failed to break their will, all was lost regardless. Let it end now!

As suddenly as it began, the tempest ceased. Amara collapsed to her knees gasping like a drowned rat. She glimpsed Velkan dragging men to shore up their defences before her sight swam sickeningly. Raw elemental power still crackled on the air, mingling with screams and acrid smoke. The Hallow Skull glowed dull and sated in her limp grasp. Surely none could withstand such wrath and remain defiant.

Gradually the ringing in Amara's ears subsided enough to make out a sonorous voice bellowing below. She forced swollen eyes open and crawled to the parapet edge. The lower bailey was transformed to a muddy ruin, yet a huge bull of a man still stalked upright, one arm ending abruptly in a bandaged stump. His placid features were set in unyielding lines now as he called for order among the shell-shocked survivors. This could only be the rebel commander.

"Enough! We are outmatched." The big man's resigned words stilled the chaotic remnants. He cast a mournful look over the devastation before turning his eyes upward to meet Amara's blearily. To her surprise, his hatred seemed tempered now by regret. The fight had gone out of him.

"Princess!" His address took her aback. "I invoked strength and stand corrected. Stay your hand, and let reason guide us." He lowered his head stiffly. "I accept your rule if it be just."

Amara struggled to stand, leaning heavily on the parapet stones. "Then swear it freely, here before your people. And we shall parley."

The rebel commander drew a deep breath, then turned to face his remaining followers. "The foreign sorceress showed greater strength and mercy both than any of us this black day," he declared bluntly. "I submit myself to her wisdom and law." To Amara's disbelief, the huge man sank to both knees in the mud before her gaze.