The Bronze Blade

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Saraal looked at Temur. His eyes told her nothing. Luckily, at that moment, Aday came to her side.

  “They give you a weapon to kill him, my girl.” Aday’s voice was gleeful. “You may kill him so they don’t break their word to their master.”

  Kuluun started, but Temur’s men held his arms. “What are you doing?”

  “I told you, brother,” Temur said. “I will do nothing to you.”

  “You gave her a weapon, you ass!” Kuluun screamed. “You can’t give her a weapon!”

  “She is a child of Jun. A female, yes. But a warrior by his blood. Are you saying you never trained her with weapons as all his children must be trained?”

  “She’s crazy!”

  Temur bared his fangs at his brother and hissed, “She wasn’t when he made her, was she?”

  “She killed Odval! We never even found his ashes.”

  Temur looked at her with new respect. “Well, then giving her a weapon hardly seems necessary. I suppose at this point, I’m merely curious what she can do with it.”

  Saraal approached Kuluun as if he was a banquet laid before her. A harvest feast, like those she remembered as a girl. Temur’s men stepped away. Kuluun’s sons deserted him, clearly understanding where the power had shifted.

  She stood before him, and he vibrated with anger. “You stupid bitch. You won’t do anything. You’re a mindless sheep. Too stupid to even—”

  In a blur of movement, Saraal bent down and cut behind Kuluun’s knees, slicing the tendon as if she was preparing a goat for the spit. He cried out and fell to the ground, but Saraal immediately grabbed the tongue out of his mouth and pulled, cutting it off as he retreated into enraged gurgles. He spit up blood, and Saraal did not waste it, licking up his chin to capture it before she bit his neck.

  She heard the crowd behind her, but she ignored them. Aday was at her side, coaxing her on.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she crooned. “Powerful blood. You will be strong, my girl. Drain him. Kill him like Odval.”

  She drank and drank, latching her fangs into his neck and sucking as he tried to jerk away. She plunged the short sword into his kidney and held him still. She could hear laughter around her, but she didn’t stop.

  Eventually, his veins ran dry. Saraal pulled away and looked down. The front of her new clothes were dripping with blood. She could feel it falling from her chin, smeared over her face. Her hands dripped with it; she had stabbed Kuluun over and over any time he tried to move. When she pulled away, his body fell to the ground and Saraal turned to Temur, licking the blood from the fingers of her free hand.

  Her voice was rough and wet when she spoke.

  “Fire destroys us?”

  “Yes,” Temur said, glancing toward the burning pit.

  “Good to know.”

  She turned, hefted Kuluun’s body over her shoulder, then tossed it into the fire. It jerked and sputtered, but soon went up in flames. Saraal watched it for a few minutes, then turned and walked away, still gripping the bronze blade.

  Chapter Five: The Warrior

  “You’ve got to stop killing Kuluun’s children.”

  Saraal lifted her eyes when Temur swept into the tent. “Why?”

  “I let you kill him because he was defiant and a problem. But you’re killing off perfectly good warriors at this point.”

  “Do I have to tell you what he let those ‘perfectly good warriors’ do to me after he turned them?”

  Temur sat across from her. Saraal was cleaning her blade. No doubt, there were still traces of blood on it from Kuluun’s fat son, who had laughed when he ripped her hip from the socket as he raped her. Her leg had hung useless for almost a week because it was winter and blood was scarce. It had been a painful healing.

  His fine mouth was frowning. “Enough, tseetsa. Or I’ll stop your lessons.”

  Temur was born farther west than Saraal’s people. She didn’t understand the language he spoke to her sometimes, but she was learning. He’d told her tseetsa meant bird. It was not a bad name. Better than Saraal. He told her she should choose her own name, as he had done. Perhaps she would use tseetsa.

  “I’ll stop,” she said quietly.

  “For now,” Aday whispered from the corner with a secretive smile.

  She was quieter now. Still present, but often Aday kept to the side, particularly when Temur was with her. She didn’t rage or make faces when Temur stayed in her tent. Temur wasn’t as rough as other men. He was quiet when he took her. He used softer hands. Once, she’d even felt stirs of pleasure under him, but he finished and rolled away, so Saraal hadn’t said anything.

  Most importantly, he didn’t share her body with the other men. The others didn’t ask. Not even Rashon, though he was Temur’s most trusted warrior. Saraal was surprised by this, but then, she was learning every day how different Temur was from Jun’s other sons.

  “But if we ever find Suk,” Saraal said, “I’m killing him like I did his brothers.”

  “Suk and his children fled. They haven’t made any trouble.”

  “I warned you,” Saraal said in a low voice, “Suk is different. He’s dangerous. And mean. Not as mean as Odval, but close.”

  “He’s always been weak.”

  “But smart.”

  Temur shrugged and stretched out next to her. “I suppose.”

  He lay quietly like that for a while, watching her methodically clean and sharpen her sword.

  Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

  It was the same sword she’d killed Kuluun with. During the day, she slept with it under her pillow. More than once, Temur had cut himself on its edge, but he never said anything about it. She knew he kept one with him, as well.

  His hand reached up to play with the raw edges of her hair, which was slowly growing out. “What is my tseetsa doing tonight?”

  “This. Then a lesson with Rashon.”

  “He’s a good teacher.”

  “He doesn’t trust me not to hurt him when we spar.”

  Fingers tightened on her hair.

  “Good. Neither do I.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt you, Temur.”

  Aday whispered, “Not while he still has things to teach you.”

  His smile was slow and wily. “My tseetsa speaks with secret eyes.”

  Saraal didn’t disagree.

  She had stayed in Temur’s camp, even though they’d never tried to bind her. She’d stayed for the same reason she’d stayed with Kuluun. Where would she go? She couldn’t fly yet. Not like Temur and Rashon. With a steady diet of fresh human blood—which she didn’t need to drink nearly as often as pony blood—she was starting to get her flying. She could hover at will, but no more than that. Temur said there was something she was missing. If she could hover, she should be able to fly. There was some link her mind needed to make the jump, and she just wasn’t seeing it. Until she did, she would learn other skills.

  Temur taught her hand to hand combat. He said he trusted no one else to do it. Rashon taught her weapons.

  Their band of Sida had moved on, north and east until the forests surrounded them and the air changed. They were closer to where Saraal’s human home had been. She guessed. There was no way to be sure. So many years had passed that nothing seemed clear anymore. Temur and his men were raiders, like Kuluun. But unlike him, they didn’t destroy where they raided. When she had enough skill, she went along with them. She quickly became one of Temur’s best. Temur’s Sida were far more like the raiders Saraal remembered as a child. They came. They took. They moved on. They did take humans, but no more than they needed in order to survive. No villages were burned, and no one took the children.

  For this small mercy, Saraal was grateful.

  After she’d killed Kuluun, the nightmares had started. She’d never dreamed before. Not after Jun had made her Sida. She was awake; she was asleep. There was no memory or consciousness during day rest. Her mind was completely blank. But after Kuluun had died, she’d dreamed of killing him. Then different dreams came.
She dreamed of the child she’d killed the first night she had woken as a monster. His dead eyes blinked at her and his silent mouth gaped.

  “Mama?”

  She woke screaming, even though the sun still shone. After a second of terror, she was dead to the day again.

  It was the first time it had happened, but not the last. Sometimes, Temur was with her, and she roused him, too. Once, he had stabbed her, not understanding that she was the one screaming. She’d blacked out in pain, but when she woke, the wound in her stomach was already healed, so she didn’t speak of it.

  Throughout it all, Aday was still with her, but she was more of a quiet shadow than she had been. A guardian. She watched and warned Saraal sometimes. She was the one who told Saraal which of Kuluun’s sons needed to be killed. After she reminded Saraal of all the man’s wrongs, she cheered when she killed them. One by one, Saraal was killing any man who had touched her. There were many, and some were very skilled. She needed her lessons from Temur.

  “What do you want?” Saraal asked Temur, who was still laying beside her.

  His hand slid up the inside of her thigh and cupped her between the legs. “I want this.”

  “This” was never as quick with Temur as it had been with Kuluun or his brothers.

  “Rashon will be waiting,” she said quietly, though she set her sword to the side and lay back as he began to remove her leggings.

  “Rashon can wait,” Temur said. “While I enjoy what is mine.”

  The sword clattered to the ground, and Rashon leaped on her, pressing his dagger to the back of her neck.

  “You’re dead. Again.”

  Saraal sneered and shoved him off. She’d bested him the night before, and he seemed intent on teaching her a lesson that night. He’d been vicious. He’d fought dirty. And he’d been winning. He had her pinned to the ground, her face in the dirt and his hips held her down. He was holding onto the back of her hair, which had grown past her shoulders in the years she’d been with Temur and his warriors.

  She needed to cut it again.

  Saraal twisted around and tried to kick him in the balls. He blocked her, but he didn’t notice her hand, which had crept back and under his hip. She grabbed onto his testicles and pulled. Hard.

  Rashon screamed and slammed her head into the ground, over and over, but Saraal did not let go. Her grip was unyielding. She squeezed harder. She felt his blade press into her spine, and she twisted. Eventually, the blood dripped into her face and she couldn’t see. But she could still feel his balls in her small hand, and she would not let go. Rashon’s blade left the back of her neck, then he yanked on her hair as he was pulled off. Saraal let go of him and immediately rolled into a crouch.

  Temur was holding Rashon by the hair. The Sida was guarding his sore testicles and his fangs dripped blood where he’d bit his own lip.

  “I’ll kill her!” he growled. “You won’t stop me this time!”

  “You’ll do nothing,” Temur said, shaking Rashon by the hair. “You were sparring. You came to a draw. You’re finished.”

  Until the next lesson. Saraal eyed Rashon with suspicion.

  Aday whispered in her ear. “He’ll kill you the next time you fight.”

  Temur must have agreed with Aday because he said, “And you’re done giving her lessons. You’ve taught her all you can, and obviously, she’s strong now. You’re finished.”

  “But—”

  “Go.” Temur slapped his child on the back and smiled a little. “Find a human to tend what is sore. Leave Saraal alone. My orders, Rashon.”

  Rashon limped away, and Temur grabbed Saraal from her crouch. Then, without a word, he held her and took to the air. She sucked in a cold breath at the shock of the wind. Then she closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel.

  Cold ripping air did nothing to calm her blood. She could feel her heart beating in excitement. Could feel her mind racing. Within moments, Temur had landed them in a thick stand of trees, out of earshot of his Sida children.

  “What were you doing?” he hissed.

  Saraal cocked her head, surprised by his anger.

  “We were fighting.”

  “You almost ripped his balls off, Saraal. They would have grown back. Eventually. Do you know how painful that is?”

  She sneered, “You’ve seen me naked, Temur. Do I have a pair I don’t know about? He’ll be fine. He was fighting dirty. I fought dirtier.”

  “You can’t do that to my men. You’ve already killed all of Kuluun’s children. My men are off limits to your rage.”

  “Then they shouldn’t pin me down and put a dagger to my neck.”

  “You will show respect!”

  “To who?” Her chin lifted. “To you? Fine. To Rashon? No.”

  Temur’s eyes flashed. “He is my second in command.”

  “And I, as you so often remind me, am Jun’s child.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So you are.”

  For once, it didn’t sound like a compliment.

  Saraal did everything she could to soften her voice. “I meant no disrespect to you. Perhaps it is better that I avoid Rashon. He does not like me or trust me.”

  No one liked her except Temur. And Saraal often thought he only liked her because he could fuck her. But she knew he didn’t trust her. She could see his eyes cutting to her every time she mastered another skill. The long sword. The bow. The spear. Would he still put up with her once she could fly?

  Because Saraal knew in her gut, once she could fly, she would be stronger than Temur. She sired no children like Temur did. Her strength was growing as his waned with each new warrior he made on his father’s orders.

  Temur stepped closer to her, and his eyes narrowed. “Give me your neck.”

  Saraal took a step back. In all their time together, all the times she had allowed his body into hers, he had never taken her blood. He’d never even asked.

  “No,” she said in a small voice.

  “No?” His eyes were starting to glow in anger again. “You don’t tell me no, Saraal.”

  “I don’t want you to bite me.”

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  Her heart began to race, and she saw Aday peeking from behind a tree. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Respect, Saraal.”

  “I give you my body anytime you want it.” She hated the quiver of fear in her voice. “I give you my respect. I don’t want to give my blood. If you’re hungry, take a human.”

  “I don’t want a human.”

  He was closer. Boxing her in. She looked to the sky, but she could not reach it, even though it called her.

  “Don’t. Do. This.” Saraal clenched her jaw and turned her head to the side when Temur backed her up against a tree. His large body pinned her in.

  “Give me your neck, Saraal.”

  She had allowed him to touch her. She had grown to enjoy it at times, since Temur seemed to care. She’d begun to reach for him, which he enjoyed even more.

  “Please, Temur,” she whispered, dread coating her throat. “Don’t do this thing.”

  He bent down, put a hand to her throat, and sunk his fangs in her neck. Saraal closed her eyes at Temur’s groan of pleasure. The small portion of her heart that had softened to him died, even as the sensual pleasure of his bite washed over her.

  “Tseetsa,” he groaned. “So sweet.” He tugged at her clothes. She did nothing to stop him. He pushed her leggings down and untied his own, then he lifted her against the tree and slid his body in hers. The pain wrapped around her heart as he took her.

  She saw Aday leaning against a tree on the other side of the clearing, watching them both. Her mouth sneered, but her eyes reflected Saraal’s pain.

  “Just like the others,” Aday whispered. “I told you. He is just like the others.”

  When Temur was finished, he kissed her neck and licked the drops of blood from it. Then he kissed her again and ran a soft hand over her hair.

  “That was good, Saraal. I can feel you in me now.�
� He put his arms around her and took off into the air. Aday followed them. “I can sense you now. This is good.”

  But he hadn’t offered his own blood to her. No, Temur didn’t offer that kind of trust. After all, she might have been Jun’s child, but she was still just a woman. That much had always been clear.

  He flew them back to the camp, and left her at her tent, walking off in the direction of the humans. His hunger was piqued now. He would probably drink from at least one more human. Possibly more. And then he would fuck some human women. He usually wanted three or four in a night if his blood was running. Saraal was just glad he didn’t seem to want her again.

  She was distracted, but it still wasn’t an excuse. By the time Saraal sensed him, she was already in her tent, and Rashon had her by the neck.

  “Let’s see what makes you so special, little bird,” the monster whispered, then he cut her throat before she could scream.

  Aday woke with the earth in her mouth.

  Enough.

  She could sense the girl with her. The girl didn’t feel the wind as she did. Didn’t sense her power. The girl was broken. There was no repairing her this time. She huddled, terrified as the dirt became her grave.

  Enough.

  Aday felt the air around her, even underground. She felt the fine particles flowing through the soil, just as they flowed through the trees and the water. She knew there was no place the air did not live. No place she could not draw power. None. She had felt it long ago when she woke beside the girl. Felt it when she followed her through her years with Kuluun. With Temur. She had given the second a chance, but the girl had not found her power. Had not flown. She still didn’t understand.

  Enough.

  She could hear Rashon over her, stepping on the earth, leaving footprints over the spot where he’d buried the girl after he’d raped her viciously. After he broke her neck. After she was close to death. Rashon knew Temur would punish him. Taken by his own rage, he had forgotten it, but as the sun set and the moon rose, he remembered again.