A Woman Warrior Born

by Alexander Edlund

  *****

  A drum was beating somewhere, a double stroke that pressured her head with pain. Groaning aware, she realized that it was her heartbeat. She opened her eyes and moaned softly as candlelight hit them.

  She took a deep breath and sat up. Fresh bandages were on her hands, head, chest, and shoulder. Draping herself with the blanket from the bed, she shuffled into the next room. Squinting in the lamplight, she saw Yavay’adil slumped over on the bed beside Ajalay, the blue tome on a table beside him. She stepped in something cold and tacky, and saw a trail of congealed blood leading from the secret door. Yavay'adil had yet to clean the blood from her return.

  Taking the bloody tome from the table, Breea sat beside Yavay’adil and opened the cover, scanning the pages for something she might understand.

  Yavay’adil raised himself, rubbing his face, and turned to Breea to watch her flip through the weaving book. It all looked to be written in Abitalen, but tucked away near the back, she found a worn sheet of parchment, a rough translation written in Ajalay’s hand, messy with notes on possible word meanings and interpretations. The weave began with instruction on listening. She touched her chest. Warmth answered. What would happen if she tried to weave?

  "What of Bay-ope?" she asked. "Any word?"

  Yavay’adil touched Ajalay’s neck for a moment, then her forehead, before he replied.

  "SaKlu refuses to allow a Council, so Bay-ope will sound a muster at dawn. He is trying to avoid a battle, which will be difficult. SaKlu has split the guard well and deeply. Many follow him because he is captain, obeying any order. Bay-ope hopes to wield loyalty to win over more than the simple majority and thus make complete war unnecessary. Word is being spread to sure people. Still, some are glad that SaKlu commands, for all fear the return of the wolf." His eyes flicked toward the farther rooms of his chambers, then to Breea, but his healer's kindness would not let him ask how she had defeated the beast when two of the finest warriors in the world could not.

  Breea straightened her back, and said, "I knew the land."

  Yavay'adil considered, then accepted the explanation. Rather than ask about her most recent wounds, he said, "Banishing Bay-ope downvalley was a mistake, for all know that Bay-ope is nearly SaKlu’s equal on the field, and rightly feel his absence weakens us terribly.

  "Bay-ope needs the Tetr. Taumea came to check her condition while you slept. They hope for her to be well enough to present at muster, but I am sure that to move her now would be her death."

  Breea looked at the parchment. With the Tetr wounded, a Tomeguard captain’s rule would be no bad thing if it were anyone but SaKlu. If Ajalay died now, then most of the guard would likely hold to the command structure. Bay-ope would fail, and SaKlu would rule Limtir. And she would be alone against him.

  "No," she said, and opened herself to the essence. The notes directed her to weave her will into the one being healed, and she reached out, feeling Ajalay and Yavay’adil.

  Yavay’adil looked down at his chest. Breea could feel his heart beating, so strong compared to the faded life of Ajalay, whose heart fluttered weakly in response to Breea’s touch. Reading on, Breea struggled with the purity of intent required for the weft, but had no lack of power for the warp. Weaving was too simple a word for what she felt, the beauty of it, the layers of power and emotion and thought. Essence-warmth moved within them and without, both separate and joined, so beyond hope of understanding that it frightened her. The expanding, flowing structure trembled and began to collapse, pulling painfully on each of them.

  Instinctively, she gave it warmth, boosting the weave. Returning to the text, she tried to keep step, but complexities developed that were not described. A blue mist formed in the air, and Yavay’adil’s mouth opened. Heat rose. She struggled to suppress the flame, keep it from exploding beyond her, but failed.

  A cry of anguish tore from her. Her skin glowed bright for a moment, but instead of searing everything around her, the power was absorbed directly into the healing weave, and a thick blue fog surrounded the bed.

  Well-being permeated her, and pain faded. Ajalay was not visible beneath a blanket of the mist. Breea’s wounds burned and itched. She lifted her hands to her face to look at them, fearing what the weave was doing.

  The bed moved, and Ajalay pushed herself up, barely visible through the blue pall.

  "Breea?" she asked.

  "Here," said Breea, reaching out.

  Ajalay held up a blue hand, "No. Do not touch, the weave is incomplete." She listened for a moment. "What are you doing?"

  Breea only looked at her, unable to say, not understanding what was happening. The fog thickened as more of her power rushed into the form.

  Ajalay winced, and said, "Too much. Cut the feeding strands. Erect a boundary. You must bind."

  "I don’t know how."

  "Follow," said Ajalay, and created a loose pattern around an outer strand of the weave. She tightened it slowly, until it started to constrict the power flowing through it. She lost it as Breea’s power incorporated the boundary and swept away its form.

  Shaken, Ajalay asked, "Did you feel it?"

  Breea nodded. Her flesh burned, and was beginning to glow.

  "Use it on the primary pattern."

  "I don’t know what that is."

  "Where does your strength emanate?"

  Breea touched her chest.

  "That is where the pattern roots are. Hurry, Breea."

  "I can’t feel it."

  "You must."

  Without success, she tried to tie the boundary in various places. Pain wrenched her.

  Ajalay shouted, "At the core!"

  Desperate, Breea tried to tie the boundary around herself. To her surprise it fell into place and the heat faded, but the healing weave began to warp, tugging on all three of them. It ripped apart, pieces flung in various directions.

  Yavay’adil looked from Ajalay to Breea and back again as the remaining mist fell away from them. Ajalay was alert and sitting up straight. Breea embraced her.

  Ajalay sat back, and said, "I never taught you to weave."

  Breea held up the piece of parchment.

  The Tetr-Sanis studied Breea, then closed her eyes, and Breea knew she was listening. Aja’s eyes snapped open and she looked past Breea toward the hidden medallion.

  Breea said, "His amulet. I killed him."

  Ajalay was silent, looking even harder at Breea.

  In a gush of words, Breea told of her flight from Lupazg and her battles with him and SaKlu. Yavay’adil told of SaKlu’s militant hold on the library, the status of the wounded, the terrible and growing number of dead, and what he knew of Bay-ope’s plan.

  "How soon before the muster?" asked Ajalay.

  "I think it is very near."

  "You must find Bay-ope and tell him I am well."

  The healer nodded and went to the outer door of his chambers. When he returned, he said, "I have passed word to the kitchen. They will know how to find Bay-ope."

  Aja said, "I am truly hungry. Bring me something, will you, and some of your tea?" To Breea she said, "You have impressive strength. Weaving strength."

  Breea bit her lip and touched her chest where she felt the fire strongest, between the twin crescent scars where the medallion had marked her.

  "You must use the boundary whenever it threatens. I have read—do you remember the Ballad of Jiwan City-Slayer that Bay-ope sings? He was an Alach weaver who could not control his power."

  Yavay’adil returned with a tray holding a bowl of steaming soup, bread, and two tall mugs of tea.

  "Jiwan existed?" he asked. "I thought the Alach were myth."

  Ajalay said, "I think that we are discovering much of what we believe to be legend was writ with more truth than any could know."

  Breea asked, "What is Dauthaz?"

  "That is a term warped by the Yasharn since the Legend Time. It comes from the Abital word used to classify creatures like Lupazg, but the Temple uses it now to rid themselves of any
who are perceived threats. As far as I can tell, no weaving has been done since the Time of Legends, except, ironically, Callings given by Yasharn priests." She reached for food.

  Pulling up a chair, Yavay’adil asked, "Then their history, The Wisdom of One. Is it true?"

  Ajalay shook her head. "Not the Temple’s version, but a great clash of powers did occur a few eons ago. The Six Kingdoms are what rose from the surviving peoples."

  The healer asked, "Then who built Limtir?"

  "Or Carsythe?" said Ajalay.

  "And the walls of Sherishin?" said Yavay’adil.

  "Who, indeed?"

  No one would say it, so Breea did. "Alach."

  Yavay’adil leaned back in his chair.

  Both women ate, clearing the platter. Deep in thought, Yavay’adil rose and returned with more.

  Once finished, the Tetr-Sanis said, "Clothing?"

  The healer looked as though he might protest, but walked into an adjacent room.

  On impulse, Breea shrugged off her blanket and began to unwrap her bandages. Where her wounds had been, her skin was pink and unbroken, tender, but much healed. Ajalay pushed away her own blankets, pulled off her bandages, and peered at the red scar on her belly.

  Yavay’adil returned with an armful of clothes, and Breea saw that he was blushing. She smiled at the picture he must see—two naked women sitting on his bed examining themselves for battle scars.

  Ajalay and Breea helped each other dress, after which the Tetr pinned Breea with a stern gaze. She raised the wick in the bedside lamp and, taking the healing tome from the table, sat on the bed and patted the covers beside her. Breea joined her, and began her first lesson in Abitalen.

  Later, the secret door opened, and Taumea stepped into the room. Twelve elite Tomeguard followed. All were heavily armored in helms with fierce eye guards and silver-hued camails, cuirasses of bright scales, greaves and full chain hauberks that shimmered like water in the candlelight. Each carried an oval shield emblazoned with a ring of interlocking weapons surrounding an open book painted in gold.

  Ajalay rose from the bed. They lined up before her, put helms under their shield arms, and drew their blades, snapping them to salute before their faces. As one, they gave a deep bow. Rising, their blades lowered, offered in service. Ajalay’s gaze ranged over the warriors, and she acknowledged them with a formal bow.

  Taumea reported that word of a fire in her chambers was spreading and that most had the story that SaKlu was injured in some unknown way. No direct orders from him had been passed since the fire, and his followers were unsure of their action. Fear was building and Bay-ope was already in the courtyard. He sent his service, and would wake the Voice upon her word.

  Ajalay nodded, turned on her heel, and strode to the outer chamber doors. She slowed before reaching them. Yavay’adil and Breea took the hint, and stepped ahead to swing open the doors to the hall.

  The six men outside drew their swords, and one said, "All movement is bound. You—"

  He faltered, realizing who was before him, and which of the elite guard were behind her.

  Ajalay strode out, pushing his blade aside, and said, "Who is Tetr-Sanis, guardsman?"

  The twelve elite spread to either side of her like ominous wings.

  The other five guardsmen offered their weapons in service. The man before Ajalay blinked in fear and confusion. Ajalay grabbed the hilt guard of his weapon, jerked the blade from his grasp, and flung it aside.

  "If you wish to keep your life, guard this door in my name, and I will consider mercy."

  Ajalay strode through Limtir ordering out of their way any Tomeguard who looked like even thinking of questioning them. Yavay’adil left them to go to the infirmary. At one set of massive doors facing the wall, eight guards stood with their backs to Ajalay.

  Behind the milling guards at the door, she ordered, "Stand down."

  They flinched and spun about. Ajalay walked forward, and they parted to let her pass. After looking at one another in wonder, they followed.

  Beyond, a large mass of Tomeguard was forming up. Bay-ope stood before the ranks. Each third man held a torch, and the misty air flickered in their light. Eastward, the sun burned red, trying to push through the loose, gray clouds that smothered the mountain.

  Bay-ope bowed and said in a formal tone, "Tetr-Sanis."

  Ajalay walked up to inspect the lines of men. Breea, feeling awkward in the middle of the courtyard, tried to emulate the Tetr-Sanis, and held her head high, face stern.

  Warmth rippled out from Ajalay, and she said to Bay-ope, "Sound muster."

  Bay-ope raised an ax, and with a flick of his wrist, spun the handle so that the blade whirled. Air and stone thrummed in response as the Voice of the Watch drum pounded Bay-ope’s own muster rill. Five strides before the ranks of Tomeguard, Ajalay turned to face Limtir. Bay-ope moved to her right shoulder, and Breea sidled over to her left. Tomeguard began streaming from Limtir to take places in the ranks. Crowds of scholars, servants, and guests began to form at each of the four doors to the library. People pointed at the Tetr-Sanis, and a few ran back inside. Faces looked out from windows, and balconies became crowded with folk looking down at the courtyard. Breea tried to figure, given those who were gone, or wounded, how many Tomeguard remained within¬—too many, whether for allegiance to SaKlu, or his position as captain, or simply in fear. The crowds of people at the doors had grown huge, and the murmur of their voices rose on the air left quiet by the end of the muster rill.

  The flow of guardsmen reduced to a trickle, and Ajalay took a breath, only to hold it as more appeared, Mearth and Yavay’adil supporting a guardsman between them. Many followed. Men swathed in bandages, most helping a fellow. Healers and other folk emerged carrying stretchers. Bay-ope signaled, and men ran from the ranks to help the wounded.

  From the milling crowd, servants ran to help, then scholars. In a surge, the crowds at the doors flowed across the flagstones to aid the wounded, and then remained, standing on either side of the guard formation. People vanished from balconies to appear at one of the doors, running to join the crowds. Breea could tell that Ajalay was pleased.

  After the rush of feet diminished, the murmur of conversation swelled, then quieted as nothing more happened. A few more scurried out of the building as though afraid of pursuit.

  A wave of warmth passed, and Ajalay called in a woven voice, "SaKlu Deretta. You stand accused. Come forth."

  Long minutes passed. Breea wondered what Ajalay would do if SaKlu refused. The crowds shifted. The Tomeguard remained still.

  A tall figure limped out of the building. In the growing light of day, Breea saw that his face and hands were red and strangely textured. Blistered! Three squads of guardsmen, and a gaggle of frightened-looking Yasharn Scholars and attendants, followed him.

  His approach caused Breea to quail inside, but a surge of anger, at him, and at herself for her fear and shame, overwhelmed the fear.

  Ajalay’s voice rang out. "SaKlu Deretta. You stand accused of treason, and attempted violation. How do you plead?"

  He did not answer, limping toward the stables.

  Ajalay said, "Hold!" in the woven voice, and Breea felt her extend her will.

  SaKlu stumbled to a stop. His men seemed confused.

  Ajalay asked again, "How do you plead?"

  SaKlu said, "I do not plead with Dauthaz."

  "Then you are judged without defense. Guilty."

  Frightened more than pleased, Breea found it hard to believe. The punishment for attempted violation was banishment, or if the offence was deemed severe, half castration; but the punishment for treason was death by beheading.

  SaKlu drew himself up and said, "It is you who are guilty. You who brought the white wolf among us. How do you dare judge me? Who among all of you could stand against it? Only I. You will neither touch me nor impede my men, demon." He turned again to the stables.

  Warmth surged and Ajalay held up her hand. A number of SaKlu’s men raised bows and crossbow
s at Ajalay. Bay-ope stepped in front of her, and her new personal guard ran to form a shield wall on either side of him.

  SaKlu raised his chin in defiance, and continued for the stable.

  Ajalay said in a quiet voice, "Close your eyes."

  Breea did, and a brilliant flash showed red through her eyelids, then a crack of sound struck her bodily, and her eyes opened. Arrows cracked into the shields of the Tetr-Sanis guard while others went wild, soaring overhead or skittering across the flagstones. Many of SaKlu’s men had dropped their weapons to clutch at heads and ears. All of them stared as though blind. Three of the priests and half a dozen attendants had fallen to the ground, some writhing and mewing in fear, others praying fervently.

  Bay-ope strode across the courtyard, up to SaKlu, and beheaded him with one smooth stroke. Then, with the grace of a true weapons master, he began slaughtering the others as well; men he had trained, some he’d known all their lives.

  All breath left Breea.

  One man kneeled and begged for mercy. Others followed. Bay-ope spared them. No others. Those who tried to run he caught by flinging his axes into their backs. Some threw themselves to the ground in terror, or even tried to defend themselves until none were left standing.

  Ajalay’s shoulders sagged, but she did nothing.

  Finally, Bay-ope returned to his place at Ajalay’s shoulder, his axes dripping dark gore. The Tetr-Sanis guard sheathed their blades, and returned to formation behind Ajalay.

  Vision was returning to the ranks and crowds. They had heard, and now they saw. Bay-ope raised an ax at Limtir, blade horizontal. According to some plan, eight twelve-man squads broke ranks and streamed into the library. After they had vanished, another eight followed.

  Ajalay turned to enter the outer wall. Breea followed, but took the first passage leading away.

 

  Chapter 3

  Leaving Home