by Robin Roseau
"I have duties," Balorie said.
"You have a new companion," Omie said. "And don't even wonder whether Maya has noticed the situation. She has."
"Maya sees everything," I said.
"What other suggestions do you have?" Balorie asked.
I turned to Omie and said quietly, "She isn't going to be a warrior. So what does she need to learn?"
Omie sighed. "I don't want to try to solve this immediately. Bea and Beria, can the companions address her loneliness?"
"Are you offering slumber parties in our hut?" I asked. She nodded. I glanced over at Bea.
"We'll take care of it," Bea said. "But whatever we do is only a partial solution."
Loss
I eyed my opponent. We stood just outside lunging distance from each other, the tips of our swords raised to eye height in between us. I was taller with a longer reach. We were both fast. She had more experience and hoped to use it to intimidate me. I wouldn't let her.
I swirled the tip of my sword in a small circle, passing under her sword and back up to slap lightly against the edge, tapping the line of her blade just slightly away. She mirrored my motion. Then I did it again. "Tap. Tap. Tap." Our swords sang lightly to each other.
But then the motion her sword tip made was just slightly larger than it had been, and her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, and I knew she was about to lunge. I dipped the tip of my sword below hers, my timing perfect, and instead of her sword tapping firmly against mine, knocking my defense out of the way, she hit empty air, and it was her sword that overshot it's mark. Oh, not by much, just a smallest of amounts, but as she lunged, I turned to my right, presenting a smaller target, tucking my right shoulder out of the way, and using my sword to help hers pass to my right.
I continued my turn, my left hand reaching across to clasp my opponent's right wrist, stretched way out in front of her in a perfect lunge. I rolled further, my back now to my opponent, my right leg sweeping out to hook behind my opponent's legs, and then I lifted her arm over my head and began to uncoil, throwing my opponent over my hip, my hand still clasping her right wrist, now raised to the air as she tumbled onto her side in front of me. An instant later, I rested the tip of my sword carefully against her neck.
There was a moment of silence.
"Damn, Beria," said Omie from below me. "Who taught you that?"
"Nori did," I said, helping her to her feet. I glanced over and caught Nori's smile.
"Point and match to Beria," Nori said. "Congratulations!"
Omie pulled me into a hug, mindful of both our practice swords. "I'm so proud of you," she said.
"Did you let me win?" I asked her. "Sort of a birthday present?"
"Oh, is that today?" she asked. "We stopped celebrating two years ago." Today I turned eighteen. She chuckled. "You earned that win, and you know it." She kissed me deeply, and we ignored the teasing from the assembled Amazons.
"All right, you two," Nori said eventually. "Clear the space for the next match. Who hasn't gone?"
Omie and I separated then moved to the edge of the training circle and sat down. Almost everyone had fought, and Nori was looking out over the assembled Amazons. Everyone knew who hadn't fought yet, but my sister was keeping her mouth shut.
"Maya," I said, "looking smaller isn't going to do you any good."
"Shut up, Beria. She might have forgotten about me."
"Nori never forgets," I countered. "Suck it up, Sister. Come on, I'm tired from my bout with Omie."
"No way," she said. "I'm tired of getting beat up by my little sister. Where's Gweneth? She always pulls her strikes." But she stood up and stepped into the training circle, carrying a practice staff. She looked around and sighed. "Queen Malora, come make this quick," she said.
Malora laughed, climbing to her feet. But instead of picking up her own practice staff to match Maya, she carried two swords. That was probably kindness; the swords left fewer bruises than the staffs did, although Malora's control was good enough she only left bruises when she was making a point. I had gotten good with the staff, but I preferred the precision of the sword, and I'd even been practicing with two swords lately. But I found I preferred keeping one hand free. It gave me options for moves like the one I'd just used on my warrior.
Malora and Maya squared off, but then Maya backed away.
"Wager," she said to her warrior.
Everyone grew silent again.
"Wager?" Malora asked. "Seriously?"
"I bet you can't win without one of us getting hurt," she said. "A bruise, a wrenched muscle, something," Maya said. Malora chuckled. "Winner gets her hair washed later."
Maya was twenty-seven. For most of the year, she was ten years older than I was, but for the three months following my birthday, it was only nine years. Twenty-seven wasn't old; Malora was fifteen years older and going strong. But lately Maya had been complaining the aches and pains seemed to last longer, and she was going to greater and greater lengths to avoid them. She'd been asking Malora and Nori to excuse her from training, but so far, that hadn't gotten her anywhere. The rest of us tried to be gentle with her.
But it was physical training. You got bruises, wrenched muscles, sprained ankles, cuts, scraps, and no end of other complaints. It was part of being an Amazon.
"Come here, little companion," Malora said. "I'll be gentle."
"Yeah, right," Maya said. But she stepped forward, and the moment Nori said, "Fight," she sprang into action, not waiting for her warrior. She used the greater weight of the staff to sweep both of Malora's swords out of line, then reached out with her staff to attempt a strike against Malora's side.
Instead, Maya stepped into and through the strong point of the swing, and the staff slid along her hip instead of striking with force. She knocked Maya off balance, and as Maya stumbled backwards, trying to keep her feet, Malora's swords both tapped against Maya's shoulder, one after another, one-two.
"Point to Malora," Nori said.
"Did I hurt you?" Malora asked?
Maya shook her head and raised her staff. Nori called, "Fight." Maya beat away an attack and swung. Malora used one sword to lift Maya's staff over her head, deflecting the blow, and the other came around to slap Maya's backside.
It was a solid rap, but not enough to leave a bruise. Maya still stepped away, rubbing her bottom. Then she lifted her staff again. Maya attacked rapidly, and Malora gave way. Then she feinted with her right sword. Maya stumbled, caught off balance, and Malora's left sword came down to touch Maya's neck. But Maya was off balance, and she hooked her staff against Malora's arm, adding weight to her hand, and in response, the wooden sword. As Maya fell over backwards, the sword dragged against her neck.
If it had been naked steel, the mistake would have sliced her open deeply. Instead, she was left with a raw red mark across the crease of her neck as it met the shoulder.
She landed on her ass, dropped her staff, and clutched at her neck. Nori was immediately at her side, struggling to pull Maya's hands from her neck so she could see.
"Let me look! Maya! Let me look!"
Slowly, Maya let Nori peel her hands from her neck. There was a long, angry mark along her neck, but it wasn't bleeding.
I popped to my feet. "I'll get the cream," I said, and I ran back towards the village. We kept all our medical supplies in the storage room near the kitchen. It used to be Maya's self-assigned task to manage the inventory, but over the last two years, I'd been taking some of her duties from her, and keeping inventory was one of them. At first, she tried to resist, but I invited myself to her hut one evening and said simply, "Maya, you once taught me a word."
"What word is that?" she had asked.
"Delegate."
Reaching the storage room, I grabbed one of our first aid kits. I knew it was complete, as I had made sure very recently. Without pause, I ran back to the training center.
Maya was still sitting on her ass, Malora kneeling in front of her. Maya was leaning forward, her forehead against Malo
ra's chest. They were clasping hands, and I could see Maya's knuckles were white.
I knelt down at Nori's side, opening the first aid kit and handing her the right jar of cream, twisting it open for her as I handed it to her. Nori reached in with two fingers, collecting some of the cream on the tips, and said, "It's going to hurt going on, but it will feel better in a moment, Maya."
"Do it," she said.
Nori spread the cream on my sister's neck. She didn't flinch, but she stiffened and then, after a few moments, began to relax. The cream was like magic. It wasn't; it was made for us by a village far to the south from herbs harvested from the swamps that defined our southern border. But it was cool and soothing.
Maya was the most common recipient, but we'd all experienced its healing power. Nori handed the jar back to me, and I capped it before repacking the first aid kit.
"It's probably going to scar," Nori said quietly.
Maya sighed. "What else is new? Another scar, and not a single one gotten legitimately." All of Maya's wounds were from training accidents. Everyone else living in the village with scars like hers had gotten at least some of them in actual combat, either with a demon or bandits. "Help me up." She turned to Malora. "Zero to three. Two more."
I collected the medical kit and resumed my place in the grass outside the training circle, sitting next to Omie.
Maya picked up her staff, hefted it, and turned to Malora. "Fight," she said, barely giving Malora a chance to lift her own swords before coming after her.
Twice before I'd seen Maya give up in fights, letting her opponent score the last two or three points without putting up even a token defense. Both incidents had made both Nori and Malora livid, and they'd been especially cruel with her, yelling at her they never wanted to see her give up like that again. And so she fought for every point, rarely scoring against the warriors and lately, against Bea or me either.
Yes, Bea and I were still companions. Bea was long past ready to be a warrior, but she wasn't in a hurry. "If I become a warrior, I become a warrior," she had said more than once. "But if I remain Clara's companion forever, I think I'd like that, too."
Malora scored the last two points, and wordlessly, Maya sat back down in the grass. She hung her head, not talking to or looking at anyone. Malora moved to sit next to her, but Maya never looked at her, and when Malora tried to touch her, Maya shrugged her off.
"Omie," I whispered. "Jasmine only had to train hard enough to be competent in a bandit fight, and Gweneth barely more than that. Why do they push Maya so hard?"
"She's the queen's companion," Omie explained. "Malora can grant dispensation for others, but she can't coddle her own companion."
"It's not fair."
"No," Omie agreed. "It's not."
I didn't think it helped my sister's mood when Nori asked the companions to evaluate the last bout, but evaluating not only our own flaws but also those of others made us better warriors. But rather than wait for other people to tear her apart, Maya stood up herself and gave a pretty accurate critique of her shortcomings.
My sister gave her own lessons, after all, and sometimes they were more important than Nori's.
"Did I miss anything?" she asked when she was done.
She had, but I didn't want to be the one to say it.
"She needs to hear it, Beria," Omie whispered to me.
"Then it can come from someone else," I said.
"Do you two have something to offer?" Maya asked, one hand on her hip, her leg cocked.
"No, Maya," I said quickly.
"Spit it out, Sister," she said.
I sighed and stood up. "Everything you listed is true," I said. "And in a bandit fight, none of it would matter. You would kick ass just like you do when you visit the villages and some tough thinks he can chase the Amazons out of town. But over the last few months, you've developed a habit that would make a difference in any fight."
"Oh?" she asked. "Do tell."
"You've gotten so tired of getting hit, that you're intentionally leaving openings," I said, "openings for blows that won't hurt too much if someone takes them. You especially do it when it's staff against staff, but you do it in almost every fight now. Malora doesn't need openings, but you even do it with her. And maybe it wouldn't matter in the fights with us, but if you do it in a bandit fight, it might."
Maya stared at me then looked at Nori and Malora. From the corner of my eye, I saw them both nod to her.
"You did it twice in this bout," I said gently. "Easy slashes to your ribs where you're unlikely to get hit hard enough by a practice sword to really hurt, but if it was real steel, you would have been sliced open."
"Three times," Malora said.
"You didn't take advantage of them," Maya said. "They must not have been that big an opening."
"I haven't been taking advantage of them because I didn't want to encourage it. I thought you would train yourself out of it again."
"Is that why I got this instead?" she asked, pointing to her neck.
"I took a neck slice instead of the easy slice to your ribs," Malora said. "But you're the one that dragged the sword across your neck. You know I'm willing to bruise you, but not like that, Maya."
She sighed, and I saw tears come to her eyes, but they didn't escape and run down her cheeks. "You're going to have to beat it out of me, aren't you?"
"If it were only a problem in a demon fight, no," said Nori. "I'm sorry."
She took a breath then asked, "Are we done here? I'd like to get out of the sun, please. Malora, I'll take a rain check on the hair washing. I don't want to rinse the cream off."
She didn't wait for an answer but strode forth, grabbing Malora's swords from her, then carried the two swords and her staff to the equipment shed. We all stared after her.
"Put your gear away," Nori said, "then it's time to run."
* * * *
There was a knock at the door of the hut, moments after Omie and I had stepped inside. Omie was closer and opened the door. A moment later, Maya and Malora entered.
"I'm sorry I was crabby on your birthday, Beria," Maya said, smiling at me. She had her hands behind her back.
"We stopped celebrating two years ago," I said. "It's okay."
"Maybe Amazons don't celebrate eighteenth birthdays, but sisters do. Go sit down and close your eyes."
I grinned at her then moved to the edge of the bed and sat down, closing my eyes and holding out my hands. A moment later, Maya set a package of cloth in my hands. "You may open."
I opened my eyes. I couldn't tell what she had given me. I was holding a wrapped square of wool, tied with a ribbon. I set it in my lap, released the ribbon, and opened it. Inside I found a small bundle of material. It shimmered even in the light from the lamp, and when I touched it, it was soft and very, very smooth. I pulled it out and found a thin shirt. It seemed far too delicate to be very good, but the material felt amazing.
"I saw it this spring when we went recruiting," Maya explained. "It's silk. One of our recruits is a merchant. He gave it to me if I promised to find a good warrior for his daughter. I told him it wasn't necessary, that I would make sure she had the best warrior I could find."
I rubbed the material against my face. It felt amazing.
"He included directions for its care," she said.
I looked up at my sister. "Whom did you give the girl to?"
"Ree, Vorine's old warrior. She's gone without since Vorine became a warrior."
I remembered Ree, and I agreed with Maya's choice. "Thank you, Maya."
"You're welcome. It might feel good to sleep in. Or. Um. Not sleep in."
She giggled, a rare moment of levity for her lately, then she took her warrior's hand and pulled her from the hut.
"Good night," they said.
After letting our guests out, Omie sat on the bed and ran her fingers across the material. "I would love to see you in it."
I smiled and let her help undress me, then I pulled the shirt on. It was long, actually
covering my bottom, and felt divine. Omie caressed my arms through the material. So I turned to her and helped her out of her leathers, and she pulled on her own nightshirt. We climbed into bed, and she caressed my arm through the silk again.
"Omie," I said. "I'm eighteen now."
"Yes," she said, "you are."
I took her hand and said, "There's somewhere else I think I want you to touch." I didn't wait, but I moved her hand to my breast. She widened her eyes. "Will you teach me how to make love, Omie?"
It turned out, she would.
* * * *
I don't know how many times we made love over the next month. Certainly every night, not counting the times we were on patrol, and frequently some mornings and stolen afternoons.
Then our rotation to patrol came up. The warriors were Ralla, Malora, Lidi and Omie. We were companion rich with Maya, Neela and me. Although Malora was the queen, she rarely led the patrols, and Ralla was the lead on this trip.
I had seen more demons since my first when I was sixteen, and for the last year, I had been helping with the fights, but only after the initial engagement began, and someone else took the voice. I'd been with Omie when she had taken one more and seen Nori take another.
Our patrols were for three nights. We would meet the previous patrol at the edge of our forest. We patrolled for three days, camping out for three nights, and then would meet our replacement patrol the morning of the fourth day, exactly three days after beginning.
The first day and a half were routine, but then Lidi had grown sick. We decided she had eaten something that disagreed with her. Her symptoms had grown worse, and Malora had grown nervous. Lidi needed bed and rest. Neela had asked for and been granted permission to take her warrior home. And so we were down one warrior.
Still, it was uneventful until the morning of the last day. We would meet with our replacements in another two hours and were working our way towards the rendezvous point when Omie stiffened.
