Jalia and the Slavers (Jalia - World of Jalon)

by John Booth

  The Mine Owners Association was very happy to turn the citizens of Telmar into slaves to work in the mines, but the local farmers and their produce were far too valuable to waste in the mines. Yandin Selda had declared the slavers were to leave the farmers and their families alone. So there was relative safety on the farm.

  The house was overcrowded and Daniel and Jalia had escaped to the barn only to discover the barn was where the younger married couples went to practice the pleasures of marriage without disturbing the children.

  In desperation to find somewhere quiet to sleep, Daniel unpacked their tent and set it up a few hundred yards into the orchard behind the barn. This did not stop them being disturbed by curious children from the moment the cock crowed, but it was better than the alternatives.

  Talla was ordered to sleep in the house with the other members of the family by her formidable mother in law. Risa had her own views on what was proper for a recent widow and sleeping under the stars with a couple of traders was not on the list.

  The farm was about six miles from the bridge to Ona and nestled in a valley surrounded by woodland. Despite it closeness to Telmar, it was highly unlikely that any of the Association’s men would visit the farm. It was important that the Association didn’t find out Jalia and Daniel were on the farm, as that would undoubtedly cause trouble for Gorn’s family, if not their immediate deaths.

  Daniel and Jalia planned to move out in the next day or so. They planned to leave their donkeys and horses while they made their way on foot. They hadn’t yet explained their objectives to Gorn and Risa who they suspected wouldn’t approve. The family had survived by keeping their heads down and saying nothing.

  Jord had set out to start a new life rather than remain close to Telmar. Their son’s death had convinced Gorn and Risa that the quiet way was the safest way.

  Jalia spotted a child running over the hill heading towards the farm. She couldn’t tell which of the children it was, though it was certainly a little girl. Jalia turned Swift and urged her horse on to intercept the girl. She looked to be in a hurry and Jalia planned to offer her a ride back.

  As she got closer, Jalia saw the girl was running as if her life depended on it. She nudged Swift to send the grey into a canter. The little girl turned in horror at the sound of the horse and collapsed with relief when she who was riding it.

  Jalia dismounted at a run and lifted the girl from the ground. It was Trela, a nine year old granddaughter of Gorn’s, being the first child of his oldest son.

  “What’s a matter Trela, is someone hurt?”

  Trela was far too winded to say anything. Jalia cuddled her, as the child was quivering with fear. When she recovered Trela started shouting incoherently about Pip, Gorn’s fourteen years old son.

  Jalia couldn’t get Trela to stop yelling so slapped her across the face. The little girl burst into tears holding her stinging cheek with her hand.

  “Now slow down and tell me what’s happened.”

  “They took Pip!” Trela screamed.

  “If you don’t stop shouting I shall slap you again,” Jalia said and the little girl calmed because she knew a threat from this woman should never be taken lightly. The children had discovered that fact within hours of Jalia arriving on the farm. “Now tell me, who took Pip and where?”

  “On the Maggi Road. Bad men with a cart full of people in a cage. They saw us and caught us. The big man with the scar said I was too young and to throw me back, but they kept Pip and put him in the cage. He screamed for me to tell Grandpa so I ran.” By the time Trela finished her explanation she was calm. “Are you going to go and kill the bad men?”

  “Trela, I want you to go back to the farm and tell Daniel what you told me. Tell him I’m going to go and get Pip back.” Jalia looked at the little girl who stared at her with eyes wide. “Don’t run too fast as you might trip and hurt yourself. Just get there as quickly as you can, even if you have to walk.” The little girl nodded solemnly.

  “I can run really fast.”

  “If you trip and hurt yourself I shall spank you later,” Jalia warned. Trela gulped and decided she would only walk fast and not run after all. There were limits to what she would risk for an uncle. “Go on then. And be careful.”

  As the little girl walked off quickly but carefully towards the farm, Jalia considered her options. It looked like keeping a low profile was out of the question. Slavers carried crossbows and there was no way Jalia could stage an ambush on open ground. Since she didn’t want to kill the slaves, she couldn’t risk using the magic ring. Word would get back to the Association if she did. Whatever the slaves promised, people couldn’t resist talking, it was human nature.

  It looked as though she would have to rely on cunning. That might mean she could only rescue Pip. But then, that was life.

  Jalia mounted Swift and drove him at a gallop over the top of the hill. The coastline of Lake Telmar spread out before her and she saw the cart being pulled by two horses in the distance. She raced her horse towards the road, noting that apart from the cart, there appeared to be no one else on it. That was a bit of luck and she hoped it was a good omen.

  As she neared the cart, she saw Trela was right about the men being slavers. The cart was a mobile cage with half a dozen people inside. The wagon was large and the cage could have held a dozen people the way slavers usually packed them. She guessed that pickings must be slim since she and Daniel closed the road to slavers at Taybee.

  The front of the coach had two levels of seats. On the lower level, the driver steered the two large horses required to pull the wagon. Above and behind him was a bench on the top of the cage, where two enormous men wearing mail shirts and carrying crossbows sat. They had noticed Jalia’s approach and two crossbows were aimed at her.

  Jalia rode past the wagon and pulled Swift to a stop in the middle of the road. The driver, a heavy set man with a large scar across his face, pulled the horses to a stop and put on the brake. Pip waved at her from the cage and Jalia hoped he would have the common sense not to call out her name. Jalia thought she could help him in that regard.

  “My name is Gally Delbar and you have my sister’s son, Pip in your cage,” she said. Pip looked confused for a second and then Jalia saw the light in his eyes as he caught on.

  “They put me in this cage Aunty Gally. Make them let me go!” he shouted. Several of the slaves put their arms through the bars of the cage in silent appeal.

  “So what? There are three of us and you’re just a girl. Perhaps we’ll put you in the cage too. What do you say, lads?” the scar faced man said with a rough laugh. His two henchmen chortled above him, but Jalia noted their crossbows never wavered.

  “Yandin Selda has ordered the families of farmers are to be safe from you. My family has a large farm a few leagues in that direction.” Jalia pointed to the south, directly away from Gorn’s farm. “The Delbar Family have influence with the Association. We sell them our produce. Do you want the Association to hang you from the nearest tree for disobeying their orders?”

  The scar faced man looked at his two colleagues and they looked doubtful. They shrugged at him. He turned back to Jalia.

  “My name is Albar al’Crun and I’m not afraid of this Association of yours. I hear they had their gold stolen by a slip of a girl, probably not much older than you.” Crun looked at his men with their crossbows and back to Jalia, “Give me one good reason why I should give you the boy. Lad’s his age are always in demand, either to work down the mines or be used by their masters. Have you got anything to bargain with, little girl?”

  Jalia looked at the man and made an assessment. People like him were bullies and prone to accept challenges if they were sure they could win. He wouldn’t accept anything like a knife throwing contest or a swordfight for fear of losing, but there was one contest he might accept.

  “I will arm wrestle you for the boy, unless you’re afraid of losing to a girl?” Crun and his men couldn’t hide their amusement at this absurd challenge. Crun w
as built like a horse and pushing slaves around kept him in good condition. There were barely any visible muscles on the girl who couldn’t be more than five foot six tall. Crun was over six foot and had rippling muscles.

  “And what do I get if I win?”

  “You get to have me anyway you want, and I’ll let your men take me afterwards too, willing and ready to do things their girlfriends won’t.”

  Jalia watched the men holding the crossbows lick their lips in anticipation. Judging by the bulge in Crun’s trousers, her offer was having the desired effect on him too. Jalia had long believed that when a man’s blood flow was directed to his groin, his ability to think became limited.

  “This won’t take long, lads.”

  Crun got off the cart and walked towards Jalia, swaggering his hips and hitching up his trousers. “Might take a bit longer after, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show while you wait your turn.”

  Jalia put the elbow of her right hand on her horse’s rump making it clear Swift’s backside was to be the table for the contest. The men with the crossbows jumped off the wagon and hurried over to watch the fun. Their crossbows were pointing at the ground and they had forgotten Jalia was a threat. She was simply a fool, waiting to be taken.

  Swift turned and snorted, apparently annoyed by Jalia’s elbow and Crun had to walk around the horse so he stood on the far side. Because Swift was a big horse, Jalia’s arm was disadvantageously high for her to arm wrestle, angled up instead of down. Crun wasn’t the sort of man who would point that out to a competitor though.

  As he got within a couple of feet of Swift, Jalia, unbuttoned her tunic with her left hand, and pulled it open revealing her breasts. “So you can see what you are never going to feel.”

  Crun lost his common sense in his eagerness and stabbed his elbow down on Swift’s back.

  Swift kicked sideways with all the force that an extremely well trained horse can muster, his hoof catching Crun in the midriff and driving him to the ground.

  The two henchmen burst out laughing at the sight of the boss curled up and rolling in the dirt. They were still laughing as Jalia’s sword stabbed one in the groin, just below the level of his chain mail, while the other one found Jalia’s left hand had sprouted a knife, which was equally effective in a swift slicing cut level with his belly button.

  As one fell to the ground, the other clutched at the entrails. He looked at Jalia in horror before the light in his eyes faded and he fell dead at her feet.

  Jalia turned to see Crun stagger to his feet. He was having some trouble seeing because dust had got into his eyes. He rubbed them clear and stared in astonishment at his dead friends.

  “I’ve decided against the arm wrestling,” Jalia said brightly, “A sword fight is much more fun, don’t you think?”

  Crun pulled his sword clumsily from his scabbard and swung wildly at Jalia. There were cheers from the cage as Jalia stepped sideways in a dancing movement and swung her sword at Crun’s bottom knocking him onto the ground. The people in the cage felt hopeless when they saw Jalia offer to arm wrestle their captor, but seeing the two slavers dead at her feet had cheered them up no end. They chanted, “Gally, Gally!” as loudly as they could.

  “If I end up giving that bitch a reputation as a hero, I’ll never forgive myself,” Jalia muttered at the chanting. It occurred to her that using Gally’s name wasn’t turning out that well, but it had been the first name to jump into her mind.

  Crun was getting back to his feet when he saw a loaded crossbow only inches away from his hand. He grabbed the bow and swung it towards Jalia. Her thrown knife caught him in the throat, but he was determined to kill her and lifted the crossbow up towards her. Jalia whispered to her magic ring the moment before the bolt fired.

  Crun grinned in triumph, despite the knife sticking out of his throat that would certainly kill him. He knew he was dead but at least he had managed to take the bitch with him. The triumph turned to horror as she opened her hand and showed him the bolt he had fired. She had caught it. He took the impossibility of that to his grave with him.

  The slaves watching the fight hadn’t seen what happened. Crun’s body blocked their view for the final moments of the fight. They became silent. They saw Crun fall to the ground and Jalia walk over to him. She put her hand down to retrieve her knife and casually dropped the bolt besides the crossbow.

  Anybody looking at the scene later would assume that the bolt had fallen from the crossbow before Crun fired it. That assumption was just fine with Jalia.

  She walked over to the cage and the cheering slaves. The cage was locked and she had to go back and search the bodies for the key.

  “Off you go then,” she told them as they got down to the road and looked around uncertainly. “If you follow the road that way you will find a turn off for Brinan in a week or so and I’m sure you’ll be welcome there. There are farms and hamlets on the way where a little work will buy you food.”

  The freed slaves milled around considering their options. Pip came to her and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Aunty Gally,” he said, giving her a big wet kiss on the cheek, staring at her still uncovered breasts in admiration.

  Jalia hastily fastened up her tunic, took him back to her horse, and put him up on it. As she climbed behind him and galloped away, she whispered in Pip’s ear. “If you don’t tell anybody, especially Daniel, that I had my breasts out in that fight, I won’t give you the spanking of your life for calling me, Aunty Gally just then. Is it a deal?”

  Pip gulped. Jalia had given one of the children a spanking on the day she arrived for insulting her, and he had seen how hard she could hit. “It’s a deal,” he told her, and not another word was said as they rode back to the farm.

  15.Base Camp Ona

  Jalia rode the donkey side-saddle with poor grace as Daniel walked besides her dragging the donkey along by its halter. Daniel was dressed as a farmer, his sword was missing and his clothing reflected a farmer’s needs, with many pockets and made of the strongest, most hard wearing of cloths.

  His boots were made to withstand a thousand clods of clay and not to allow him to move quickly. He chewed a length of straw that dangled loosely from his mouth. The only thing in common with his normal dress was the dagger at his belt. That looked old and nondescript and fitted the rest of his clothes perfectly.

  While Daniel looked almost unrecognizable, Jalia had undergone an even more startling transformation. Sitting on the back of a donkey that looked as though it might die of old age any moment, she wore a long, worn, bulky farmer’s-wife dress. Gone was the sword from her back and all of her usual clothes. She looked harassed and annoyed. As well she might, because the woman Jalia had become was well gone in pregnancy with her belly sticking out over her knees.

  Daniel trudged wearily down the road towing Jalia and her donkey behind him. They had almost reached the bridge connecting Ona to the mainland.

  When Jalia had returned with the Pip, it was clear they should leave the farm as soon as possible. They risked Gorn and Risa’s family by being there and it was time to take the fight to the enemy. Daniel had decided on a course of action, but still had the little matter of selling his plan to Jalia.

  “Dan and his wife have a closed up house in Ona. He was a cobbler until the troubles forced him back to his father’s farm. They have offered it to us and it sounds as though it will make a good base.” Daniel explained after they had eaten that evening.

  Dan Caulder was Trela’s father and a good man. Daniel insisted on paying him for using the house and they concocted a story to protect him from the Association, should they ever connect the house back to Jalia and Daniel.

  “We will ride to the house tomorrow,” Jalia said.

  “There is the small matter of our disguise, Jalia. The Association will be on the lookout for you and possibly me. We must make sure that nobody connects the couple going over the bridge with either of us.”

  “And how do you plan to achieve that miracle?” Jalia asked with a de
gree of curiosity. Daniel had always been the strategist. Jalia’s approach to planning was to charge forward with her sword raised. While quite capable of creating and carrying out complex plans, she rarely chose to do so.

  “I’ve bought an old donkey from Gorn and we will go disguised as a farmer and his wife.” Daniel tried to sell the easy bits of the plan before mentioning the bit he was sure she wouldn’t like.

  “You bought a donkey? You have four of them in the stable.”

  “I think we’ll probably lose any animal we take with us.” Daniel said, as if that answered the question.

  “You do get overly attached to yours. They are only donkeys.”

  “Give me one of your knives,” Daniel demanded. Jalia pulled the knife that lived in her boot, started to hand it over to Daniel hilt first, and then stopped with her hand halfway.

  “What exactly do you want it for?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I want to keep it as mine, forever.”

  Jalia pulled the knife back from his waiting hand so fast she came close to stabbing herself.

  “Not a chance, these knives are a part of me. I’ve had them so long.”

  Daniel waited for her to make the connection.

  “Alright, keep your damned donkeys.”

  “There is one other thing to help with the disguise, Jalia…” Daniel paused and Jalia looked expectantly at him. She knew he was going to ask her to do something she wouldn’t like. She knew that from the start as it was written all over his face. “I want you to pretend to be full term pregnant.”

  “What’s the point in that? We won’t be able to carry on the pretense after we get into the city, no matter how big a pillow I stuff up my skirt.”

  “Our excuse for entering Telmar is that you lost your first child at full term and we want to use a city midwife.”

  “Yes, I guessed it would be something like that. But as soon as we start doing anything, the Association will be around to the house sticking a knife into my belly to check if I bleed.”