“Elijah told me that your father married a foreign woman from across the sea. Have you ever been to your mother’s lands?”
“That was where we were going when the storm struck,” said Mica, which was what she and Elijah had agreed to say if asked.
“So you don’t have any relatives other than Elijah?”
“No.”
“You should go to Bacca, sailors with the same skin colour as yours are often in the port. They could probably tell you something about your mother’s country. From what I’ve heard it’s warmer there with sandy beaches, green forests and abundant wildlife.”
Gabriel’s description of that far away country rekindled faint memories of just such a place in her mind. Was it her imagination, or was it real? She had very little memory of her life before the slaying of her parents. Of course she remembered her parents vividly and of the house where they had lived, but was that house here in Islabad or across the seas?
The day went rather quickly as Gabriel told Mica about the land they were travelling in, about the seven provinces that made up the continent of Islabad.
“You have seen all these places?”
“Yes, I have been a tinker for thirty years, followed in my father’s footsteps, I did.”
The caravan was slowing down, there was a creek ahead and as it was late in the afternoon the caravan master had decided to camp here for the night.
Mica took a walk down to the creek to fetch some water in the bucket and as she passed through the camp some of the children followed, asking questions along the way.
“Why do you wear a sword?” asked the blond haired boy who had been in the wagon in front of them today.
“To protect myself,” she replied.
“My mother said it is unseemly,” said a dark haired girl as she skipped alongside Mica.
“Well, I will admit that it is unusual but I have no one to protect me, I don’t have a mother and father like you.”
“You have no parents?” asked another boy.
“No,” replied Mica, dipping the bucket into the water as she arrived at the creek.
“What happened to them,” asked the blond haired boy.
Mica turned and began walking back through the camp. “They were killed in the war many years ago.”
The children peeled off to their various campsites, some of the parents smiled at her and others ignored her. It had been the same in the village. There were those that were friendly, those who would pay her no heed and there were those who hated her, despised her, and weren’t afraid to show it. She put the bucket down where Adar was beginning to place the wood for the evening’s fire.
During the day Mica had seen no game; she knew it would be better toward evening when the sun began to dip in the sky. She retrieved the bow and quiver of arrows from the wagon.
“Where are you going?” asked Elijah.
“To find us some meat, don’t worry, I’ll be back a bit after dark,” she said as she strung her bow.
It was dark and Elijah was beginning to worry about Mica, he hadn’t seen anything of her since she left the caravan. Adar had already gathered wood for the fire and was even now setting the flint to the kindling and grass. As he glanced back down the trail he saw her appear from trees aligning the right hand ridge, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was carrying a bundle on her back.
“Rabbits for tea,” she announced as she put the four rabbits down beside the fire.
“I clean,” said Adar, who quickly gathered the rabbits, unsheathed his knife and made for the stream.
“The hunting went well?” said Elijah.
“Yes.”
“No problems, no sign of bandits?”
“I saw nothing, no tracks. Not even any old sign.”
“I think the soldiers have chased them out of this area.”
“Let’s hope so, Gabriel,” replied Elijah as he gathered a bucket and went down to the stream for some more water.
That evening they ate like kings, Mica’s cooking had them all coming back for seconds, and after the meal Gabriel located a couple of bottles of red wine and some fine glasses. It was the first time Mica had tasted wine, it was pleasant enough and after a couple of glasses she felt drowsy, so she went to bed leaving Adar to do the washing up. It was something he enjoyed doing. In fact, he didn’t seem to mind doing any sort of work. Gabriel and Elijah had opened a second bottle of wine.
Sometime later she was woken, by laughter close by. She opened her eyes, a crowd had gathered around the fire and Elijah was telling them a story. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
The next day Mica sat in the wagon once again but she gave up her seat in the afternoon to Elijah, he protested at first, but she insisted so he relented.
“Where do you come from,” Mica asked Adar as she walked along beside him.
“I come from Westland.”
“How did you hook up with the tinker?”
“He being attacked by bad men, Adar help out.”
“And you have been with him ever since.”
“Yes, Adar had no home, nowhere to go. Now I have home and friends,” he said smiling at her.
The next two days were uneventful. Mica enjoyed the sunshine and took in the views of the countryside, her eyes often wandering to the snow capped mountains on their right. In another month autumn would be over, rain, snow and the inevitable cold biting winds would wash over the land. Where was she going to spend the winter? She had no roof over her head, no bed to sleep in.
They stopped in the mid afternoon to camp, as there was a lovely dappled stream running down through a band of trees with golden brown sun-burnt leaves, an ideal place. The grass was green and short, obviously kept down by browsing horses, cattle, goats and sheep that had previously been here. She could see the remnants of old fires. She strung her bow and trotted off upstream after letting Elijah know where she was going. Yesterday evening she had seen some deer but was unable close on them as they were out in the open.
The day had been hot and Mica was feeling sweaty and her hair itched, she hadn’t had a bath for almost a week. The water in the stream looked inviting as she made her way through the sparsely separated trees. She came to a small pool with a pebble beach. Looking around she saw that the pond was semi-secluded with a couple of large boulders shielding most of the pond. “What the heck,” she thought, “there’s no one around, and it might be some time before I can enjoy the luxury of a bathhouse with its steamy water and fragrant soaps.”
She quickly stripped off her clothes, and naked, she made her way to the water. Never leave yourself vulnerable, always have a weapon at hand.
Those words had been drummed into her by Agar. She was vulnerable here. She turned, unsheathed the sword, carried it into the water and dropped it at her feet. She peered around into the trees and could see nothing to cause her alarm.
Diving into the water she felt the sharp coolness of the water envelop her body, it was so refreshing. She dived, swam and romped about in the water like a child playing. She swam to the end of the pool and back again and then stood up, brushed the water from her eyes and rinsed out her hair, it was then she saw them.
Two grizzled men, both with thick beards, long straggly hair and disheveled dark clothing stood on the bank next to her clothes with sinister grins on their ugly faces. For a moment she panicked, looked around for somewhere to run, to flee, but the far bank was too steep. It was about six feet high. She was trapped. Once again Agar’s words echoed in her mind.
You have two great advantages over any male opponent, the first is that they will consider you to be inferior, men always think like that toward women. Secondly, your beauty will have them mesmerized, stunned, their thoughts will not be of killing you but of sating their lust.
She stood waist high in the water with her breasts exposed, she did not cover them. For over ten years she had trained for an occasion such as this. She let her mind drift away and concentrate on what she was about to do, that she was n
aked had nothing to do with it. She smiled at the men, took a couple of steps forward further exposing herself as her hips and thighs came into view. She felt for the sword on the pebbly bottom with her right foot, found the handle and slid her toes beneath it.
The two men could hardly believe their luck as they both stared at the young woman in front of them. That she seemed unafraid and was smiling at them hadn’t registered as any sort of warning. Her shoulders were wide, her breasts full and ripe and her nipples stood erect. She had a slim waist above well-rounded hips and a nest of luxuriant dark black hair at the apex of her thighs. Her legs were muscled and well shaped.
“Do you always walk in on a lady when she is having her bath?”
“A real lady would not be bathing in a stream in these woods,” said the larger of the two men as he took a step forward and began removing his clothing.
“Are you going to join me?” she asked, feigning politeness.
“That is my intention.”
He was now naked to the waist, his hairy chest exposed. He undid the wide belt, letting the attached sword and dagger drop to the ground. He removed his boots and then took off his trousers. His excitement was obvious and a little distracting. She had never seen a man’s appendage before. She shivered as a slight breeze brushed her body.
Her senses sharpened. She could hear the rippling brook where it entered the pond and she was aware of the diminished heat from the lowering sun. The birds had ceased their chatter. The forest was quiet and still. She could smell the musky odour from the leaves on the ground, all this, she ignored. Honed fighting senses now took over.
The naked man walked towards her, his appendage swinging, his eyes gleaming and his smoked stained teeth visible as he grinned at her, it was an evil grin. When he reached the edge of the pool Mica flicked the sword into the air and caught it in her right hand. The grin was still on the man’s face as she drove the sword up and into his chest striking his heart. She quickly withdrew the now blood-stained sword and stepped aside, allowing him to fall face down in the water. She was ready for his companion.
The second man had already drawn his sword, his bearded face angry; his words harsh and full of hatred.
“Fucking bitch, I will kill you and then have you while you are still warm.”
Mica stood her ground as he advanced towards her, her dark ebony eyes locked onto his. She would see the flutter and detect the movement in the man’s eyes long before the sword was thrust at her. He was cautious in his approach, but she felt his indecision, his diverted attention. His mind was not really on the fight.
“Why don’t you take your clothes off like your friend?” Mica was goading him, trying to anger him even more. “At least show me what you have before you die. Maybe it’s too small. Maybe you can’t satisfy a woman.”
He spat on the ground. “I might just let you live long enough to feel what it’s like to have a real man inside you.”
She saw the anger and the flicker in his eyes. She stepped to her left and brought her sword up parrying the sweeping blow. He immediately stepped back away from her and out of range of her sword, but not before it had brushed against his arm tearing his black shirt and drawing blood. Mica kept at him. He was no match for her speed. She saw the fear in his eyes as it dawned on him that he was going to die. She drove the sword into his chest feeling the blade grate against bone. He clutched at the blade and dropped to his knees. His sword lay on the ground. The last thing he saw was the etched figure of the wild boar on the blade that protruded from his chest.
Mica put her bare foot on the man’s chest and withdrew the sword. Then she leant over and retched onto the stones as she steadied herself with the sword. It was the first time she had killed, the first time she had delivered death. It wasn’t pretty and it didn’t give her any real pleasure.
She dressed quickly. She was angry with herself for being so stupid, she was also angry with Argon and his two men. They were supposed to be keeping an eye out for bandits. Instead, they spent most of their time drinking and eating, rarely did she see them scout ahead.
Eiljah saw her first. There was no mistaking the ire in her. She strode past him and on to where Argon and his men were seated around a fire, sharing a bottle of wine. Elijah followed her, as did Gabriel, he too had the impression that something was about to happen. Elijah saw her un-sheath the sword and put it to Argons throat. There was no fear in Argon’s eyes only minute surprise.
“While you are sitting here drinking, bandits are checking out the caravan. I just had to do your work for you,” she said with distinct venom in her voice.
One of Argon’s men was slowly reaching for his sword, Mica saw him.
“If you even start to draw that sword I will kill Argon here and slice your head off. Do I make myself clear?”
“Very clear,” replied the man as he took his hand away from the sword.
“It’s obvious something has upset you, my dear,” said Argon, showing more bravery than Mica would have given him credit.
“I was just attacked by two men.”
“Where are these men now?”
“Dead.”
“You killed them?” he asked as if not believing what he had just heard. Argon’s eyes shifted to Elijah who stood close by, Elijah nodded to him, acknowledging the fact that this young woman was capable of killing.
“Please, let’s talk about this, maybe we have been a little complacent.”
Mica glared at him. She removed the sword from his throat but continued to hold it in her hand. “I would say you have been negligent.”
“Let’s not split hairs. Where did this happen?”
“Upstream, not far from the camp, they must have been watching us.”
Argon stood up and put the green wine bottle he had in his hand on the ground, stopped the cork and beckoned his men to follow. Elijah and Gabriel went along as well. Mica returned to Gabriel’s wagon where Adar was preparing some food.
Argon’s experienced eyes soon took in what had happened when he saw the naked body of the bandit floating in the water with his hairy behind pointing to the sky. The girl must have been bathing, probably naked and these men had turned up. The big man had apparently stripped, entered the water with the intention of raping the girl. But somehow she had turned the tables on them. The second man was still dressed and had taken a sword deep in his chest. Very rarely did you aim for a man’s chest. Only a person with some confidence would risk it, the blade only had to jam on the rib bones, you never took that risk in battle.
Gabriel and Elijah dragged the body from the water. They saw where the sword had entered under the ribs.
“She must have been standing in the water, she would have been lower and able to thrust up with the sword,” said Gabriel.
“What about the other man?” asked Elijah.
Argon began to laugh. He could see it now. It was all so easy for her.
“She is a very beautiful woman with her clothes on. Just imagine what she must look like naked. These men didn’t have a chance. We had better bury them; that they will be missed is certain. Bury everything belonging to these men, nothing is to be taken,” Argon said to his men.
“How did you do it?” asked Elijah as they sat around the campfire, the sun having set in a golden glow.
“It doesn’t matter now,” said Mica, seeming disinterested.
“How am I to tell the story, to record your bravery?”
“Make it up, like you normally do.”
“I’ll have you know that my stories are all true.”
“Even the one about the Shadow Walker?”
“Especially the one about the Shadow Walker,” replied Elijah as he leaned forward. “People need these stories, if nothing else it gives them some sort of hope, some sort of belief in the world we live in.”
Adar and Gabriel sat quietly; they were sitting on the edge of their small wooden seats listening, waiting to hear how Mica managed to turn the tables on the two bandits.
�
�As you have probably deduced, I went for a swim. I took the sword with me and hid it on the bottom of the stream. They never even noticed that the sword was missing from its scabbard.”
Of course they wouldn’t, thought Gabriel. The sight of Mica naked would make any man miss what he should have seen. He began to laugh, in fact, they all did. Mica even managed a smile. By the end of the evening the story of her deed had filtered throughout the caravan. That evening they had everyone in the caravan around their campfire, some eighty souls listening to Elijah’s stories. But it was not Elijah they came to see. They wanted to sit with the young woman who had killed the bandits. They wanted to see if she was real, if she was like them and if she was indeed human and not some spirit or demon. It was late when they all finally crept into their beds.
* * *
Mica was walking with Adar when they saw the first signs of the village of Tumult. It was just a one-road town with thatched mud-brick houses. A stone-arched bridge could be seen in the distance. It was barricaded and there were already carts and wagons lined up waiting to get through. They could see soldiers with their shiny steel helmets and meshed body armour worn over red tunics on both sides of the bridge.
Argon had also seen them, seen the crowded wagons and carts. This was unusual as the traffic normally passed over the bridge quite freely. Something was going on that he was not aware of.
He reined in his horse causing the caravan to stop. He turned and rode back down the line of wagons until he came to where Mica stood with Adar.
“Mica, I want you to ride on the wagon.”
“Am I in some sort of danger?”
“Maybe and maybe not, I was a soldier once and I know how they think. A pretty young woman can be fair game. Change places with Elijah, take your sword off and find a cape with a hood and cover yourself.”
Argon rode on down the caravan looking for anything that might stand out, something that might give cause for the soldiers to stop them further, but there was nothing else that caught his eye.
The Orphan and the Shadow Walker Page 6
