Green, Sharon - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter.htm

by Lady Blade, Lord Fighter

  "Which, I've heard, is the reason priests of Evon don't preach like priests of other gods," I put in, adding my own amusement to the general atmosphere. "They'll council other followers of Evon, but they don't preach because they have that other, more important task given them. I suppose it's never occurred to those who say that, that priests of Evon don't have to preach. Only weapons-wielders follow Evon, and becoming a fighter or a Blade is a conversion of sorts in itself."

  "That's very true," Veslin said with a smile, completely relaxecLin his chair. "If someone is to learn weapons skill and become any good at it, the basic decision has to come from him, not from someone talking him into it. Priests of Evon don't have anything to preach about, so we spend our time offering advice, marrying people, fighting with our units— and discussing legends.

  "Which brings us back to the legend we've been discussing. Once the original war was over, with Even's side having

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  won, the pieces of the panoply were supposed to have been returned into the care of his priests, to be held until the next time they were needed. An interesting aspect of the legend says that if someone attracts one part of the panoply to him in time of need, other parts of it will be drawn to that one if other worthy wielders aren't to be easily had. I don't really understand how that's supposed to happen, any more than I understand how the pieces are supposed to be able to—divide themselves, you might say—to double their number in case there are two to be outfitted. The whole thing is fascinating, to say the least."

  "And that's the story you were told by your friend," Kylin said, his expression matching the priest's interest. "If it were true and you were the new custodian of a part of the panoply, you'd have to be out there in the world now, looking for people who were worthy of wearing Evon's gifts, instead of sitting back comfortably in this house. You could hardly expect them to show up in this village, and if I were in your place 1 don't mink I'd care for having to leave here. You must be glad the gods haven't decided to go to war again."

  "Oh, yes, more than glad," Veslin agreed soberly, but for some reason there was a glint of amusement in his very light eyes. "And you're right, of course, about not being able to expect the worthy to simply walk up to my door and knock. Being young and a fighter during the time the gods go to war must be a time of living life to its fullest, but I'm afraid I'm past the age for a true appreciation of something like that. Battle loses its matchless appeal, when it's your sons and grandsons who must face it rather than yourself. You're happy for them and in no way envious, but it isn't quite the same."

  "I can understand that," I said, wondering at the odd look that flickered briefly in his eyes, almost a combination of fear and sadness. "Being in a battle yourself is much better, than standing back and watching other people doing the fighting. You might say it gets in your blood."

  "You might also say it sometimes gets the blood out of you," the big fool to.my right put in, sounding annoyed, jumping in as though I'd been talking to him as well as to Veslin. "There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to leave the games of childhood for the responsibilities

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  of an adult. It's natural to feel regret over the loss, but no real adult tries to hang onto the playthings of a child."

  Veslin raised his cup to his lips again, but not before I caught the beginnings of a smile of amusement. Apparently he understood what Kylin was talking about, and found something funny in it. I, however, hadn't the faintest idea of what his babbling was supposed to mean, so I had no trouble ignoring it.

  "Do you think your friend gave you the bracers for a reason?" Tasked Veslin, still looking only at him. "I mean, other than the fact that he was dying and felt that he had to pass them on?"

  "It's possible he chose me because he knew of my collection," Veslin answered, waving a hand at the walls around us and what they held. "I've been collecting broken shields since I was very young, visiting other lands to see what sights they had to offer. I couldn't keep them with me, of course, but Indris' mother lived in a city in those days, so sending them to her to keep for me was more expensive than difficult. During one leave I took my friend home with me, and the collection was the second thing I showed him."

  "What was the first?" I asked, wondering what he might have had that was more exciting than those fascinating shields.

  "The first was my sons," he said with a gentle smile, his light gaze holding mine. "A man is always proudest of his sons and daughters, as well as of the woman who gave them to him. My woman would be with me yet, if Evon hadn't found a need for her at Home. Indris came to us long past the time her brothers were grown and gone on their way in the world, a blessing for us but not for her. She was still a very small child when her mother was called Home, which made it necessary for her to be raised by her father. Poor thing, she was a Blade almost as soon as she could walk, courtesy of a man who didn't have enough else to occupy him. I find it a matter of great pride that she managed her life with as much happiness as she has, and now enjoys my company. Her mother must have watched over us, for her to have turned out as well as she did."

  "But what's wrong with her having been a Blade?" I asked, confused over what he'd said—and how he'd said it.

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  "It's an accomplishment not every woman can claim, but you make it sound as if there's a—taint—of some sort to it."

  "No, child, not a taint," he answered, having no trouble finding the words he wanted. "A woman's achieving Blade status is a proud thing, but mdris did it because I was there to train her, because she adored her father and wanted to be like him—and because she found no other choice for her temperament. There are women who are happy being nothing more than wives to men, and they're the lucky ones, the ones who are able to find contentment. With all the strides we've made in the world, we've as yet to find a place for those who need additional contentment, the pleasure of a job well done or a contribution made. In this great age of advancement and enlightenment, when man can make fragile glass strong enough to be used to eat and drink from but still appear beautiful, a woman of deeper needs than most is still forced to make a choice between those needs. She isn't allowed to be everything a woman can be, she must be one thing or the other. A Fistmate or a wife, a Blade or a mother. Why can't she be both?"

  "Being a Blade is to be free, being a wife is to be chained down like a domesticated animal or a pet," I answered at once, even though I was sure he hadn't asked the question expecting it to be answered. "Not every woman wants to be a wife and a mother, and demanding it of those who want no part of it simply isn't fair. It's worse than demanding that those satisfied women leave their homes and children and go out to train with weapons would be. If no one tried to force things on those who were unwilling, this world would be a much better place."

  "Now, that can agree with wholeheartedly," he said, showing a faint grin. "The only part of your contention I'm having trouble with is the part about unwillingness. If a woman has tried being a wife and mother and has found that it isn't for her, no one can argue with her decision. It is, after all, based on experience. What basis is being used, though, by a woman who hasn't tried it herself? Hearsay? The opinions of others? Guesswork? How far would bases like that take you in a battle?"

  "I don't have to swallow poison to know I want no part of it," I came back, suddenly aware of all the silence coming

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  from my right as soon as the new direction of the conversation became apparent. "Indris was a Blade who made her own decision as to what would make her happy. All I ask— demand—is that I be given the same right."

  "Rights are never given, only earned," Veslin said, "but that isn't the point we're trying to get clear here. You say Indris made her own decision and you're right in that, but she didn't find her happiness alone. Being married to most men probably would have made her mis
erable, but luckily Javin wasn't most men. He shared his own work with her while their children were very small, used her help to test many of the blades he forged, then stood beside her when it came time to train their offspring. She was never made to feel that the skill she had acquired was a foolish waste of time that could have been more profitably used to learn sewing or cooking or cleaning. The acceptance Javin gave her was complete, helping her to be whole. Where would a woman find chaining, if she shared her life with a man like that?"

  "How many Javins do you expect there to be?" I asked in a mutter, looking down into my crystal goblet and the small amount of wine left in it. I still wanted nothing to do with marriage, and wanted even less to continue the discussion with Veslin. He was only trying to help, I knew, but 1 didn't want his help—or anyone else's. I would take care of my problems in my own way—as soon as I could think of one.

  "Maybe there are more Javins around than you know," another voice chimed in, a calm voice belonging to someone who had been letting Veslin do his arguing for him. "How can you tell, when you refuse to give anyone the smallest chance to prove it to you? I can understand being afraid of something or not trusting it, but I can't understand running from it without first trying to find out if it can be bested. No one can blame someone who tries their best and then fails, but what are you expected to think about a person who won't even try? What would you think of them?"

  The question hung in the air to my right, a direction in which I refused to look, and Veslin just sat in his chair waiting, making no effort to give an answer of his own. I could see I was supposed to admit I'd been unthinkingly cruel, cowardly in my actions, and considerably short of adult behavior; it's possible I was even expected to apologize. I

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  was realiy tempted to get into the questions of cowardice and cruelty, but my primary aim was to destroy concern and caring. I'd almost forgotten that again, which made me nearly as annoyed with myself as I was with the fool who couldn't even take advantage of a woman without starting to feel something for her.

  "What I think is that I tend to admire people who refuse to slash their wrists or jump off a roof simply to see what will happen," I said after a moment, then finished the last of my wine. "Why leave something you enjoy for something you hate, just because other people think you ought to enjoy that latter something? And who says 1 have to give anyone a chance to do whatever it is they want to do? Talk about a hell of a way to run a battle. This wine is really excellent, Veslin. Would you be willing to part with another small taste of it?"

  The smile I gave the priest was a calculated one, designed to show that I wasn't blaming him for having tried to help. He wasn't aware of what was really going on, after all, so how was he to know his help wasn't called for? The young-old man sighed as he got to his feet, as though disappointed about something, but what came from my right was a wordless growl.

  "Try to keep on being patient, Kylin," Veslin said as he reached for the wine pitcher, flicking the lid of the box closed with one finger to get it out of his way first. "When you spend a lot of time dreading something, it isn't easy to suddenly turn around and accept it. Give her at least the same amount of time, and everything will work out the way you want it to."

  "I still don't understand why your friend gave you the bracers," I said, determined to change the conversation, holding my goblet out for the nearing pitcher. "All the shields in your collection are broken, so the new additions don't fit. And why aren't there two of each size, instead of only one?"

  "I'm trying to be patient, Veslin, but at times it doesn't work well," Kylin said, rising to his feet to put a hand to the pitcher before it could pour any of the silver wine into my cup. "I think she and I need to talk this out, at least as far as we can. If you don't mind, we'll go to our room now."

  "Forget about anyone else minding," 1 snapped, finally

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  outraged enough to speak to the fool directly. Out of deference to my neck I also stood, and put my useless goblet down on the table, where it would be better protected from the urge to throw it. "I was never asked if I wanted to share a room with anyone, and wouldn't have agreed even if I had been asked. If there aren't enough rooms to go around, I'll use the stable out back. As a matter of fact, I'd prefer it."

  "If you're in one room and I'm in another, how are we supposed to talk?" he came back, trying again to sound reasonable and logical. The calm he was looking down at me with didn't stretch across the short distance between us, and even seemed to affect me in exactly the opposite way.

  "Why in Evon's name would I want to talk to you?" I asked very deliberately, trying to feed my own emotions back across the space. "I know you probably haven't yet noticed, but I don't happen to like you. And if there's still any question about where I'll be sleeping tonight, I have my own suggestion to make on the subject, a good deaJ better than my stable suggestion."

  1 turned away from his very patient sigh that rubbed my own patience raw and bloody, and gave my attention to a Veslin who was standing quietly and simply listening after having put the pitcher down. The man obviously considered himself no more than a concerned spectator, but I was prepared to change that considerably.

  "It appears I need a place to sleep tonight, Veslin," I said, moving a full step closer to him while letting our gazes meet. "If you have no other plans of your own, I'd appreciate the chance to—get to know you better."

  A woman among men learns to know just how much interest the men around her happen to be feeling, and by that standard I knew at once that Vesiin was anything but reluctant. A faint smile turned his lips that was echoed in his eyes, and the way he looked at me said he would be more than happy to oblige. I waited for the words, beginning to realize that the time would turn out to be more than just an escape from an unpleasant situation, but the words that came weren't from him.

  "You can't do that," I heard from behind me, the shadow of a growl back in his voice. "As your betrothed 1 have the

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  right to share a room and a bed with you; no one else has that same right. You can't go with anyone else."

  "As a Blade, I can do anything I damned well please," I said without turning, closing my fists against the hurt I could hear in him. He had no right to be hurt, no right at all, not when he was an enemy! Why couldn't he be Ijke other enemies, and simply not care at all? "1 told you what Blades were like, but apparently you didn't believe me. Now you'll be able to see for yourself how a Blade takes care of seeing to her needs."

  "That's absolutely it," he said as I raised a hand to stroke Veslin's face, and then there were fingers on my arm, keeping my hand from its intended destination. I was pulled around hard to face a very angry enemy, and then sight of him was gone and I was up on his shoulder! 1 screamed in outrage and tried to struggle free, but his furious strength refused to allow it.

  "I trust you remember where your room is?" Veslin said with an infuriating calm as the beast turned away from him and began striding toward the door. "And 1 hope the rest of the night turns out to be quieter and more pleasant for both of you."

  That neither of us answered him didn't seem to bother him in the least, and the last glimpse 1 had was of him chuckling and reaching for the pitcher of wine. After that we were out the door and back in the narrow hall, and all the kicking and fighting I did accomplished nothing at all. I was carried along like a sack of oats, back to the front of the house and up to the second floor.

  While I'd been spending my time in Indris' sitting room, Kylin had apparently been given a tour of the house. I was carried up the stairs and past neatly whitewashed walls to a room he approached without hesitation, taken inside, and then turned so the door might be closed behind us. A smali lamp on a bedside table made the neat room look welcoming and homey, its white and brown and pink and blue and yellow all softened to gentle shadows and easy color. I got no more than a glimpse of that
before it was out of my range of vision again, and then the closed door was retreating behind still-angry strides. I pounded again at the back under my fists, continuing to draw nothing in the way of response, and then

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  yelped as I was suddenly dropped. Landing on my back on the soft bed was almost as disconcerting as landing on the hard floor would have been, and by the time I struggled up the monster was sitting beside me on the bed to my left.

  "You had no right embarrassing our host just because you have an argument with me," I was told in a very flat way, anger flickering behind dark-light eyes. "It's time you learned what to expect if you ever try something like that again."

  I tried to avoid the big hands that came to my arms, tried to fight them when they closed on me despite my efforts, but it was all a waste of strength. I was drawn face down across his lap, held in place by my right arm, and then he actually began spanking me! I suddenly remembered the time Jak had done the same thing to me, right after a fight in which I'd done something extremely stupid, his anger too great to be relieved by mere yelling. It had been pure luck that I hadn't been killed in the fight, and he'd taken my leathers down and whacked me rosy, to teach me in the most unforgettable way possible not to do the same again. As Kylin's big hand rose and fell, landing hard every time it landed, I couldn't get rid of the feeling that it was happening again, that I was being punished for doing something really bad. I twisted silently in deep humiliation, hating him for doing that to me, but also hating myself for thinking I somehow deserved it. 1 hadn't done anything to deserve it, all I'd done was hurt an enemy!