The Gift

by Bryan M. Litfin

  A wiry mariner with white stubble on his cheeks approached the bar. His hands trembled, not from drunkenness but perhaps from age or some unknown malady. When the bartender poured him a shot of whiskey, the sailor accidentally dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor.

  “I got to charge you for that, Bosun,” the bartender said.

  “Aw, c’mon now! You know I ain’t been paid yet,” the sailor protested.

  “Here you go.” Teo slid a coin across the counter. “And you can leave the bottle with us.”

  Shrugging, the bartender picked up the coin. He set two shot glasses next to the whiskey bottle and left the men alone.

  Teo extended his hand. “Name’s Teofil.”

  “They call me Bosun.” The lean seafarer smiled and returned the handshake. His black eyes were like slits in a piece of tanned leather. “You don’t look like a sailor.”

  “I’m not. Never saw the sea until a few days ago. I envy you.”

  “She can be a hard mistress at times, but she’ll make you love her too. Where you from? Your accent is strange.”

  “I used to live in the far north. I’m still learning your speech, so forgive me if I’m a little off.”

  “It won’t be the worst sin that’s ever been forgiven.”

  “Tell me about it.” Teo pulled the cork from the bottle and poured two shots. He didn’t normally chase his beer with whiskey, but this morning he would make an exception. “To your health,” he said, then drained the glass and set it down. Bosun did the same.

  Teo leaned his elbows on the bar. “So, I’m looking for passage to a foreign city. You know a place called Roma?”

  “Heard of it, but never been there. It’s far-off, and I only do short jumps along our coast. You need to talk to one of the long-distance merchants. The sea’s closing up, though. Another few weeks and the winter storms will have set in.”

  “Are there any long-distance ships in port right now?”

  Bosun poured himself another shot. “There’s one, but you don’t want to talk to those people.”

  “I’ll talk to anyone.”

  Bosun gave Teo a funny look and shook his head. “Not this lot. Did you see the caravel out there with the black sails?”

  “I noticed it. It stands out.”

  “Belongs to the shamans. One of their chiefs is in town—up from Roma, actually. Giant man, always wears armor. A killer, they say. Few have ever seen him, but we know when he’s here. He’s called the Iron Shield.” Bosun shuddered.

  “I didn’t know the shamans were sailors.”

  “Some of them are. They got to be able to move their, you know, cargo.” Bosun put a strange emphasis on the last word.

  “What kind of cargo?”

  Bosun took a swallow of whiskey. “Ya see, the shamans are like maggots or vultures. They ain’t creatures you want to be around, but you’re mighty glad they’re there. They get rid of the rotten stuff no one else wants to touch.”

  “You’re talking about the Defectives.”

  “Right. You can’t have those types running loose. Someone has to cart them away. The shamans do the dirty work for us, so we let them be.” Bosun leaned close. “People who complain about the shamans have been known to disappear too. It’s best to steer clear of them altogether.”

  “What’s the Iron Shield here for?”

  Bosun shrugged. “No idea. His ship’s getting ready to leave. The word on the dock is he’s heading over to Camoly.”

  Teo was surprised. “Camoly? The dohj’s yacht just left to go there on a pleasure cruise. Some of the aristocrats I work for went with him.” And no doubt Ana went too, Teo thought.

  “Oh yeah? That’s strange.”

  “What is?”

  “It’s strange for two big ships to go there at once. There ain’t much in Camoly. It’s just a fishin’ village. The dohj likes to swim at the little cove down the coast. I don’t know why the Iron Shield would go there, unless it’s just a stopping point on his way to somewhere else.”

  “Hmm. Must be a coincidence.” Teo kept his tone casual. “Can you get to Camoly by land?”

  “It’s difficult, but there’s a rough trail along the shore. I got a chart in my duffle if you want to see it.”

  “I think I would,” Teo said.

  The dohj’s yacht weighed anchor off Camoly and set its sails to catch a stiff breeze. The large vessel—a galleon, Cristof had called it—had three masts and two decks of cabins, plus staterooms in the sterncastle. Though such ships could be used for war or commerce, this particular one had been outfitted solely for pleasure. No luxury had been spared.

  Ana stood on the main deck with the other Likurian and Ulmbartian glitterati, holding a fruity drink in her hand. The midday sunshine beat down on her bare shoulders. The warmth on her skin felt unusual, for she wasn’t used to wearing the skimpy swimming attire that the sophisticated Likurian women wore. The outfit consisted of a band around the chest and a brief cloth on the hips. Although the women also wore wraparound skirts to cover their legs, their only garment from the waist up was the chest band. Ana had been apprehensive about wearing such revealing clothing, but when she realized all the other women thought nothing of it, she decided to adapt.

  Vanita came and stood by Ana as she leaned against the bulwark. Together they watched the sleepy village of Camoly recede in the ship’s wake. All the buildings were painted in pastel colors that stood out against the green Likurian hills. When they had gone ashore earlier that morning, Ana had marveled at the way in which architectural details had been painted onto the walls. They were made to look three-dimensional through shadowing and perspective. “Trick the eye,” the dohj had called it.

  “We’ll be at the cove in a few minutes,” Vanita said, sipping her drink. “The ruins there are very old. I think it was a monastery of the Ancients or something like that. It’s charming in an archaic sort of way.”

  “Have you been there before?”

  “Once, as a young girl. I’ve always wanted to go back. It’s a sheltered little place with a pebbly beach. Makes you feel secluded.”

  Ana fiddled with her hair, then leaned close to Vanita. “What do you think of these Likurian swimming outfits?” she whispered.

  Vanita arched her back and stretched in the sun, reveling in her sensuality. “They’re great, aren’t they? I wish Ulmbartia wasn’t so straitlaced. We could learn a lot from Likuria.”

  Ana blew out a breath of air. “I don’t know. Back in Chiveis, women didn’t go around like this. Do you think when we swim it’s required to take off the long skirts?”

  Vanita regarded Ana with a bemused expression. “What’s wrong? Is the religious girl having second thoughts about going to the beach? Of course you should take off the skirt! Or you could play sick and stay in your cabin if you’re too much of a prude.”

  “I’m not a prude,” Ana protested. “It’s just that—”

  “What?”

  “Well, um—”

  “Go ahead, say it.”

  Ana looked around, then took Vanita by the hand. “Come with me.” She led Vanita below deck to her stateroom and closed the door. “You remember how I told you a wolf bit me on the leg?”

  Vanita nodded.

  “I got better after I took the bread-mold medicine, but the scar is still there. I’ve been putting olive oil on it every day. I think it’s been getting lighter, but it’s still visible. Just a little though.”

  Vanita glanced at Ana’s hip. “Let me see.”

  Ana untied the knot at her waist and opened her sarong. Vanita recoiled. “Ew! It’s huge and disgusting!”

  Ana quickly closed the skirt again. “Is it really that bad?”

  “It’s bad,” Vanita said. “But stick with me. I’ll help you.”

  The yacht had come to a stop, so Vanita and Ana went topside. Tenders were lowered, and all the aristocrats went ashore, taking only the most necessary servants. The cove was just as Vanita had described it: secluded and quaint, e
xuding an Old World charm. The monastery of the Ancients was draped in vines, and a domed tower protruded from the foliage. Reclining canvas chairs had been set up on the beach. Ana had never seen such crystalline blue water. Some of the lords and ladies had already entered the sea for a swim.

  Vanita and Ana found two chairs off to the side. As they were sitting down, Vanita untied her skirt and let it fall. Ana removed hers as well, grateful that no one seemed to notice her scar before she slid into the seat. Ana let her arm fall casually over the blemish on her hip. The sun felt good as she lay back in the warmth. After a few moments, she turned her head to speak to Vanita, then gasped in surprise. Vanita had taken off her chest band as she reclined in the chair.

  “Vanita!” Ana whispered. “What are you doing?”

  “Look around,” Vanita answered, remaining perfectly calm as she relaxed in the sunshine with her eyes closed. “It’s the way things are done here.”

  Ana glanced at the beach. All the younger women had removed the tops of their swimming outfits. The women walked around like that, and no one seemed shocked about it.

  Vanita rotated her head and shaded her eyes as she looked at Ana. “You’d better do the same or you’re going to be noticed. I told you I’d help you. Believe me, no one’s going to be paying attention to your hips.”

  Flustered, Ana sat in the lounge chair, torn about what to do. She hadn’t been raised in such an indulgent culture as Likuria. The rules of modesty were very different in Chiveis. But you’re not in Chiveis anymore, Ana reminded herself. Like it or not, you’re in Likuria now!

  “Just take it off,” Vanita said. “Stop dithering.”

  Ana swallowed. The chest band was tied at her back. She reached around and undid the knot. Just because it feels wrong doesn’t mean it is, she reasoned. That’s just the way you were brought up. Here in Likuria it’s perfectly normal.

  Timidly, she dropped the band on the pebbles next to her chair.

  When Teo first laid eyes on the impossibly tall warrior in the chain-mail hauberk, he knew at once it was the Iron Shield. It wasn’t just the man’s height that told Teo this; it was the agile way he moved. The Iron Shield walked with the confidence of a man who has absolute mastery of his body and his surroundings.

  Teo had ridden straight to Camoly after his conversation with Bosun at La Lanterna. The estate of Count Federco Borromo owned excellent horses, and Teo had borrowed one of the best, though that was not the normal prerogative of stableboys. He knew the stablemaster would have some choice words for him upon his return, but Teo was far more concerned about the sneaky activities of the shamans than a tongue-lashing from his boss.

  Since speaking with Bosun earlier that day, Teo had felt a nagging apprehension about the Iron Shield’s presence in Camoly. The more he learned about the Exterminati, the more he wanted to make sure they were nowhere near Ana. He thought back to the Rovers’ attack at the island castle. Though he didn’t understand all the ins and outs, he suspected it was no coincidence that the dark-robed shamans had been lurking around the count’s chateau when the attack came. Whatever was afoot, Teo intended to make sure the events at the northern lake didn’t reoccur in Likuria. He would watch how things unfolded, taking action only if necessary. Teo felt it was his responsibility to have Ana’s back. His relational difficulties with her would never change that fact.

  It was early evening now. Teo had wandered the streets of the seaside fishing village for more than an hour. On a different day he might have been charmed by Camoly’s pastel buildings and sparkling waterfront, but today he had other things on his mind. The Iron Shield’s dark caravel floated offshore like a stain upon the clear blue sea.

  After trailing a pair of shamans to the outskirts of town, Teo had finally discovered their local outpost. It wasn’t much of a shrine—just a run-down hovel, really—but it served well enough as a rendezvous point for the Iron Shield. Two black horses had been made ready. Teo watched from the bushes as the Iron Shield swung into the saddle along with a shaman who wore a red armband. When they departed into the forest, Teo moved off a short distance and retrieved his horse, confident the riders’ trail wouldn’t be hard to follow.

  The Iron Shield and his companion headed south along the seashore. The area was remote, and the men’s tracks led down what was little more than a deer path. Because the hills around here dropped sharply into the sea, it wasn’t a good place for farming, or even olive growing. This part of Likuria was a stretch of dense wilderness punctuated by isolated fishing villages whose primary means of access was by sea, not road.

  The orange orb of the sun had touched the ocean’s distant horizon when Teo spotted the Iron Shield standing at the water’s edge in a sheltered inlet. The shaman with the red armband sat in a rowboat, which had been painted black. As Teo watched, the Iron Shield removed his hauberk, belt, and heavy boots. When he took off his gambeson and waded shirtless into the sea, Teo was stunned by the man’s incredible physique. The Iron Shield’s shoulders were corded with bands of sinew; his biceps and chest muscles bulged; his body rippled in the evening sun like a glossy horse galloping across a field. No wonder the man is so feared, Teo thought.

  Dismounting, Teo worked his way toward a vantage point that would allow him to watch the Iron Shield’s actions. The dark warrior had swum out into the ocean, becoming almost invisible in the fading daylight. Teo would not have been able to see him if he hadn’t known where to look. Raising his eyes along the line the Iron Shield was taking, Teo’s heart jumped. Dohj Cristof’s massive yacht was anchored there, and the Iron Shield was swimming straight to it.

  It was time to act.

  Sliding down a steep incline to the water’s edge, Teo threw off his boots and shirt, then slipped into the water. He chose a course that would keep him directly behind the Iron Shield, staying submerged as much as possible.

  As Teo neared the dohj’s galleon he noticed sailors busy with the rigging. The ship was being readied to leave. Tenders moved toward the beach to retrieve the last of the aristocratic lords and ladies after their relaxing day in the sun. The aroma of cooked meat wafted to Teo’s nostrils. No doubt a great feast was being prepared for the cruise home.

  A shadowy figure rose from the water at the yacht’s stern. The high sterncastle, decorated with intricate carvings, contained many windows for the vessel’s staterooms. As Teo swam closer he watched the Iron Shield stealthily ascend the exterior of the ship. The warrior reached a window from which a white kerchief had been hung, then crept inside.

  The dark waters lapped against the ship’s rudder. Teo reached for a handhold and worked his way up the hull, finding the climb more difficult than the Iron Shield had made it look. The wood was slick with algae, and the sun had now set, making secure footing hard to see. Teo managed to pull himself up to the cabin with the white kerchief, whose window remained open. By balancing on a carved mermaid and craning his neck, he was able to peek inside the room.

  The first thing he saw confirmed his worst fear: one of Ana’s gowns hung on a peg, and the luggage on the bedspread was hers. Although no one was in the luxurious cabin, wet footprints on the floorboards proved the Iron Shield had been there.

  No sooner had Teo spotted the footprints than the dark warrior appeared from the attached bathroom, holding a towel. Teo shrank back so he could watch the man’s movements through a gap between the window’s curtain and its frame.

  The Iron Shield, dripping and shirtless, appeared even more formidable up close. A knife, a garrote, and a pair of manacles dangled from his belt. He dried himself with the towel, then knelt and wiped away the footprints. Next he went to a liquor cabinet and removed a bottle of brandy, which he sprinkled liberally on the furniture around the room until the bottle was empty. He pitched it on the bed and rumpled the covers. Stooping, he began to slide under the bed—and then Teo’s foot slipped.

  As Teo lurched in front of the window to catch himself, the Iron Shield glanced up, startled. He scrambled to his feet and drew
his knife, dashing to the window with a savage snarl. Teo was completely off-balance. As the Iron Shield’s blade came slashing down, Teo realized that in his awkward position he could not deflect his enemy’s thrust. The only way to dodge the stabbing attack was to leap into empty space.

  Teo jumped clear of the ship as the knife flashed toward him. Twisting in midair, he grabbed the Iron Shield’s rock-hard forearm and did not let go. The weight of Teo’s falling body yanked the dark warrior out of the stateroom window. The two men hit the water hard and plunged beneath the surface of the Likurian sea.

  Entangled with his enemy, Teo refused to relinquish his hold on the Iron Shield’s knife hand. He knew if the blade were free, only a split second would pass before he felt its sharp point slide between his ribs. As the combatants thrashed and tumbled end over end, they sank into the depths. Their fierce struggle was all the more intense because neither man could see the other.

  Teo had managed to grab a breath before he fell in, but his lungs were beginning to demand more air. The Iron Shield’s strength only seemed to increase as he pressed the knife toward Teo’s bare skin. The two men fought each other in the cold water, kicking, punching, wrestling, and churning, until finally Teo had lost any sense of which way was up. His lungs ached. Fear seized him as he realized that if he let go of his enemy’s wrist to seek more air, he would be stabbed, but if he remained entangled with his foe, he would drown.

  The Iron Shield seized Teo’s neck and began to squeeze. Teo clawed at the hand encircling his throat, trying to release the man’s grip. In an unexpected move, the Iron Shield brought his arm across Teo’s body in a vicious slash. The edge of the knife sliced a hot burn along his chest. Only Teo’s grip on the Iron Shield’s wrist prevented the cut from splitting him wide open.

  Dizzy blackness threatened to engulf Teo’s mind, but with an animalistic urge to survive he fought off unconsciousness and continued to battle. The Iron Shield strained to bury his blade in Teo’s flesh. Teo pressed the Iron Shield’s forehead with his palm, forcing his enemy’s head backward. With his other hand he maintained his vise-grip on the Iron Shield’s wrist. No air was left in Teo’s lungs. He longed to open his mouth and inhale, but he knew it would be his end. Deu! Help me!