Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3)

by Malcolm Archibald

  'Bradan!' She could not stop smiling.

  Bradan and Ehawee looked up at her. Ehawee smiled.

  'This is Eyota, Capa; she is the lady who came from the spirit world to save you.'

  Bradan smiled without recognition. 'Thank you Eyota.'

  Melcorka felt a sudden surge of nausea. 'Bradan; don't you recognise me?'

  'Ehawee told me that you saved me, Eyota,' Bradan said 'I cannot remember your visit.' His smile was quicker than usual, and his eyes not as focussed.

  'You are Bradan the Wanderer,' Melcorka said.

  'I am Capa of the Iroquois,' Bradan sounded confused but not unfriendly. 'I don't know this Bradan at all.'

  Melcorka closed her eyes. Bearnas had warned her that Bradan would not be the same man. She had not expected him to forget her completely. For one moment she considered using the power of Eyota to send warriors to wipe this village off the earth, take Bradan to Cahokia and make him her man. But she would not. She could not. Melcorka would not do that and Eyota did not have the same feelings for Bradan as she had. Ehawee smiled at her in complete trust with her arm intertwined with Bradan's: they were man and maid together. Bradan had a new life.

  'I am glad that Capa is well,' Melcorka said. She allowed Eyota to take over so there were no tears as she left that village. They would come later when she lay in her bed at night.

  Melcorka looked back at the Iroquois village. 'Good bye Bradan,' she said softly. 'Goodbye my love.' There were no tears; how could there be when all the time Eyota was celebrating that she was free of that link to an unwanted past.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  'You did not find your man.' Chumani said.

  'The man we thought was Bradan was named Capa,' Melcorka did not elaborate. She forced a smile.

  'Do you wish to search again for a suitable man?' Chumani asked.

  Melcorka thought of Bradan. She would not find another like him. However, Eyota did not want Bradan. Without thought, Melcorka slipped Eyota's head-band over her forehead.

  'I do,' she heard the deeper timbre of her voice. 'I do wish to find another man; a man suitable to rule Cahokia with me. Bring me men.'

  'It shall be as you say, Eyota.' Chumani bowed low.

  Once again the call went out for men for Eyota, and once again they gathered. This time Melcorka examined them through Eyota's eyes, looking for a man suitable to control her realm. Rejecting men who were too old, or striplings with no experience of life, she looked for men in their twenties, virile men she could mould and control. Their appearance was less important than their potential.

  'Bring them to me,' Melcorka ordered, 'so I may examine them.'

  They came in a steady flow, singly and in small groups and she had them line up outside the palace so she could scrutinise them before inviting them in. It became a daily occurrence, with crowds gathering to watch Eyota of Cahokia standing at her window, goblet in hand, examining the morning's parade of men before she crooked her finger at one, or two or three and gestured for them to enter the palace.

  They would enter in mixed hope and trepidation and she would interview them about their past and their hopes. Some she would reject within minutes and the unwanted would face the humiliation of a long walk home, knowing that his dreams of power and wealth were forever shattered. Others would pass the initial examination and would enter her private quarters. The fortunate would progress further and would provide entertainment in her bed for a day or a day and a night or occasionally more. Very few lasted more than that, for Melcorka discovered that Eyota had an insatiable carnal appetite and she wore men out. Melcorka did not care; the physical activity was pleasing and she had no emotional attachment to any of them. They were bodies for her use and nothing else.

  'Bring me more,' Melcorka would say. 'More men!'

  After the initial surge, the flow became a trickle and then only a dribble as the word spread that nobody suitable was being found. At length, after some weeks, Melcorka donned Eyota's head-band and walked to her window to find the usual crowd outside and not a single man hopeful of her company.

  'Where are the men?' She shouted.

  'There are none, Eyota,' Chumani answered.

  'What do you mean: there are none?' Melcorka asked.

  'You have tested and rejected so many, Eyota, that others are discouraged,' Chumani said.

  'Find me more,' Melcorka ordered. 'Drag them to me in chains if need be!' Stepping away from the window, she threw her goblet at Chumani. It missed, bounced from the far wall and rolled on the floor. 'Do you hear me?'

  Chumani bowed, stepping back. 'It shall be as you say, Eyota.'

  Next morning there were four men waiting outside Melcorka's window. One was tall, bare-chested and handsome. Two looked as if they had been dredged from some backwater hovel and the fourth was Erik. Beckoning for the bare-chested man and Erik to enter, Melcorka dismissed the other two.

  'That's better, Chumani,' she approved.

  Bowing, Chumani ushered the two men in.

  Leaning back on her couch, Melcorka surveyed them both. 'Now that is much better. What are your names?'

  'I am Enapay,' the bare-chested man said. 'Of the Lakota.'

  'You already know my name,' Erik said.

  Melcorka felt her anger rising. 'I did not ask you what I knew or did not know,' she said. 'I asked for your name.'

  'I am Erik,' Erik's smile taunted her. 'As you well know.'

  Stepping forward, Melcorka aimed a slap at Erik, which he blocked with a simple movement of his arm.

  'I am not here to be a target of your temper,' he said. 'I had enough of that with my loving mother.'

  Melcorka stepped back. 'I am Eyota!' she said. 'I will not be treated in such a manner!' She pointed to Enapay. 'You: kill this man!'

  Enapay looked at Erik and shook his head. 'No. Eyota. I will not. He has done nothing to warrant death.'

  Melcorka felt the struggle within her. There was part of her who wished to dominate, to control, and part of her that wanted to praise these men for standing up to her. Which was Eyota and which Melcorka? More importantly for the future well-being of these two men, which was more powerful? She opened her mouth to shout on Chaytan to take them away.

  'Then you must both stay,' she surprised herself by saying. She pointed to Enapay. 'I do not know you, yet you are very familiar,' she said.

  'I have been watching you since you returned, Eyota.' Enapay had the deep voice and graceful movement that seemed to belong to this part of the world.

  Melcorka gasped with sudden insight. She did know this man; she knew him well. Enapay was the man from her visions. Enapay was the man who was at her side when she was the ruler of this empire; when she was the queen.

  'That must be it,' she said. 'I must have seen you in the crowd.' She eyed up, her heart beating faster as her visions became reality. It was instinct that made her hold out her hand to him. Enapay accepted it as if it was his right, and moved so close that his hip brushed against hers. The sensation sent a tingle through her that none of her myriad bed partners – they had never reached the status of lovers – had been able to achieve.

  'You know me,' Erik stepped forward. 'I am Erik Farseeker.'

  'I know you well, Erik,' Melcorka agreed. She did not relinquish hold of Enapay's hand. 'Come!'

  With his characteristic smile back in place, Erik stepped to Melcorka's left side. He smelled different from Enapay; an alien, northern scent in her city of Cahokia.

  'Now I have two men,' Melcorka heard the words come from her lips, mused over them and was satisfied. 'Now I am complete. Now I can rule my city and my lands without fear. I have Chaytan as my guard commander, Erik, and his Norsemen will become my personal bodyguard and Enapay as my chief advisor.'

  She waited for the inevitable reaction.

  'Who will keep you company in bed?' Erik pressed closer to her. He was all muscle, as hard, strong and active as any Norseman.

  'Whoever I choose,' Melcorka said. 'I am Eyota, Queen of C
ahokia.' The words sounded good in her ears as if she had said them before. She knew she would say them many times in the months, years and decades to come. She was where she belonged; she was home. That thought was immensely pleasing.

  The streets of Cahokia emptied before her as the people stepped aside to allow her passage. They bowed as she walked by, or held up their children for the blessing of her touch. Eyota- Melcorka luxuriated in the reverence in which she was held, accepting gifts from her subjects as her right and smiling benignly as she was daily complimented.

  'I am Eyota, Queen of Cahokia,' she announced as she stood on the topmost terrace of the Citadel and her subjects gathered below. She smiled fondly upon then, bestowing her good will as she lifted her right hand in greeting.

  'There will be no more human sacrifices,' she announced to the cheers and adulation of her crowd. 'All the tribes will be equal in my city.'

  Nobody objected; even when the erstwhile oppressors were accepted back into society they accepted her word for she was Eyota, the Promised One, she for whom they had been waiting for many years. They accepted her word as they would accept the laws of a divine being and Melcorka blossomed in their praise and expected her whims to be obeyed instantly and her subjects to accord her respect without limits.

  'There shall be no more slavery,' Melcorka decreed. 'Every man and every woman shall be free in my city.'

  There was great cheering at that.

  'The compound shall be used to hold grain in case of future drought,' Melcorka decreed.

  'There shall be no guards patrolling my city,' she said. 'Only Chaytan and the palace guards will be armed, and Erik and his Norseman will carry weapons as my bodyguards.'

  She expected the approval. Living in the royal palace high on the Citadel pyramid, she did not know of the slow surge of crime in her city as the unhappy and discontented and those from broken tribes who had not found a home stalked the unguarded night-time streets. She did not notice the lack of work on public buildings or on even the basic public sewage systems. Without slaves to do the work, and with no monetary system to give rewards, people did not wish to labour on such menial tasks. They much preferred to attend to their own crops and ignore the good of the city and the community.

  Knowing nothing of such matters, Melcorka lost herself in the smiles and allowed the adulation carry her away to places she had never dreamed existed. Except when she passed casual judgement on sundry legal cases or proclaimed her wishes to her people, her days were filled with pleasure and Erik or Enapay or some other man kept her company at night. Deep within her, there was disquiet; but Eyota had taken charge and Melcorka nearly forgot her old self. Alba and Bradan were memories and Defender sat quietly on the wall of her bed-chamber, unused and disregarded.

  'Eyota,' Enapay smiled at her from their pillow. 'You are safe in this bedroom are you not?'

  Melcorka stretched out beneath her fresh furs and breathed deeply. 'I am safer than I have ever been,' she said.

  'Do you still need that foreign weapon to decorate our bedroom?' Enapay pointed to Defender. 'When I wake up in the morning I want only to see you, not a metal device for killing.'

  Melcorka pushed back the covers so she lay naked to his gaze, then did the same for him, and smiled at the sight. 'You are all man,' she said approvingly. 'All man.'

  'And you are all woman,' Enapay smoothed his head over her body, from the crown of her head to her shins and back.

  'I am also a Queen,' Melcorka said.

  'You are my Queen,' Enapay allowed his hand to dally a little.

  'I am everybody's Queen,' Melcorka said lazily, rising to meet his hand.

  'Everybody loves you,' Enapay agreed.

  She giggled softly. 'I may love them all,' she said, 'or at least all the men.' Her laugh gurgled in her throat. 'But only one at a time. Or perhaps two at a time if I am impatient.'

  They laughed together.

  'That would be one way of cementing the bond between the people and their Queen,' Enapay said, with his hands doing wonderful things to her.

  'Don't you mind?' Melcorka sat up suddenly, holding his hand in place. 'No, don't stop!'

  'I won't stop until you wish me to, Eyota', Enapay said.

  'Answer my question!' Melcorka heard the regal snap in her voice. 'Don't you mind that I pleasure myself with other men apart from you?'

  'You are Eyota,' Enapay said. 'You are free to do exactly as you wish in your own city and your own country. You are Queen.'

  'That is true,' Melcorka lay back down again. 'But aren't you just a teeny bit jealous that I share my favours with other men?' She smiled at a hidden memory. 'With many other men, some of whom are very…' She shook her head. 'Perhaps I had better not say more.'

  Enapay looked down at her, smiling. 'Naturally, I would prefer you all to myself for always, Eyota. Any man would. I am only happy that you honour me so much with your time and your presence.'

  'That is a good answer,' Melcorka said, as other matters began to divert her attention. 'It was a diplomatic answer from a diplomatic man.'

  'Not only a diplomatic man, I hope,' Enapay was busily engaged now, yet still held her gaze.

  'Oh absolutely not,' Melcorka agreed, gasping slightly. 'Erik is very jealous,' she said. 'He wants a larger share of my body.'

  'Any man would wish that,' Enapay said.

  'He is very young,' Melcorka gasped a few moments later. She giggled again and lowered her voice. 'He rushes things.'

  Enapay slowed down, as Melcorka had intended. 'Young men can sometimes be too energetic for their own good,' he said.

  Later, when Melcorka lay gasping and satisfied, Enapay reached across and stroked her stomach. 'You have a very firm body,' he said. 'You are beautiful; even if you were not a Queen you would be beautiful.'

  Melcorka closed her eyes, savouring his adulation. 'I used to be firmer,' she looked down at her sleek stomach with its layer of prosperous fat. 'Before I was a Queen.' She shook her head at the memories. 'That seems so long ago; before we met. You are all man,' she used her favourite phrase of praise. One that was already well-worn in this room that was now dedicated entirely to her pleasure.

  Sometimes it was difficult for her to remember life before she became Eyota. Had she really wandered the world with some laconic man with a stick? Had she really spent so much time in wind-battered islands and fought ice-giants? It seemed unbelievable that she, Queen of Cahokia, should have done such things.

  'You are very noisy at the crucial time,' she said, smiling and returning Enapay's caresses. 'People must hear you.'

  'I'll have some servants strengthen the walls,' Enapay said, 'So the sound is deadened.'

  'Do so,' Melcorka said drowsily, 'and make sure they are quick about it. I want it done today, so I am not disturbed by their banging.'

  'They might not manage it in one day,' Enapay said.

  'Then make them,' imperious Eyota-Melcorka ordered. 'I order it.'

  'It shall be as you say, Eyota,' Enapay half rose and bowed. 'And the sword?'

  'Oh move that damned thing away as well,' Melcorka said. 'I no longer need it and it spoils the symmetry of the room.'

  'It shall be as you say, Eyota,' Enapay bowed again.

  'Good; now get back in here,' Melcorka patted the furs, smiling. 'You didn't think I was finished with you yet did you? We're not half done yet!'

  One day every week, Melcorka listened to the report from the Council of Elders and passed judgement on those cases that they could not reach a decision.

  Grave- faced and wise, the Council filed into the room that Melcorka had ordered to be kept for their deliberations. There were fifteen men present, as dignified as any that she had ever seen. With Erik at her side, she greeted them formally and accepted their respect.

  'We have had a busy week,' Eyota,' their spokesman was of the Iroquois, a serene-eyed man who must have been approaching his seventieth winter. 'There have been many cases to listen to.'

  Melcorka sat on her chair wi
th the head-band around her forehead and her newly made robe draped from her shoulders. She had specifically demanded the image of a falcon picked out in white shells and had the dress-maker hang her trinkets from the sleeves. These small falcon models she had rescued from the woman in the ice added a fine decorative touch, she thought, and they rattled nicely as she walked. They acted like small bells, drawing attention to her royal status.

  'Did you resolve all the cases?' Melcorka asked. She knew that such small affairs mattered to her people. Family matters and such like were very important to the little people who made up the bulk of Cahokia's population and if the people were happy, then they would adore her all the more.

  'Not all, Eyota.' The Elder said. 'There are many cases of theft and of…' he stuttered over the words. 'Attacks of an indecent nature.'

  'Rape?' Melcorka felt a surge of anger that such things should happen in her Cahokia. 'Did we find the culprit?'

  'Culprits,' the Elder said. 'There were many cases.'

  Instinctively, Melcorka stood up. 'I can't allow that,' she said. 'What is the normal penalty for such things?'

  'When the soldiers were patrolling the streets,' the elder said. 'Such things were a rarity. If a man was caught, he was put in the compound as a slave.'

  'And quite right too,' Melcorka said. 'We shall do that again.'

  The Elder bowed his head. 'Eyota,' he hesitated over the words. 'You have ended all slavery in Cahokia and destroyed the compound.'

  Melcorka considered for only a minute. 'Very well. I order that any man found guilty of rape shall be enslaved to the family of the victim.' She enjoyed the collective gasp from the Elders, knowing she had just given the rapist a life that would be worse than death.

  'There is also the case of the petty thieving,' The Elder said. 'We had nothing of the sort before.'

  'Then why is it happening now?' Melcorka asked.

  'The problem came from the released slaves.' The Elder said. 'Those who belonged to tribes could move in with their kin. Those from broken tribes, that is, where the chief was sacrificed, had nothing, not even clothes. They wander the streets stealing food and clothing.'