by Jane Shoup
She rubbed her arm and glowered at him. The words I’ll get back at you leapt to mind, but Julia had said those very words to Saren. Were they the last words she’d spoken?
“On the way to Draven you’ll be trained,” Forzenay continued.
“Trained to what? To kill a man?”
“Yes.”
“That is not possible.”
“No?” Forzenay asked.
“No! It is not in me.” They continued riding in silence, but Ammey knew the subject was not at an end. “If I cannot return home, I need to get a message to my family to let them know I’m safe.”
“Of course,” Forzenay replied. “And we will. The Seidh never leave their village and we need the message carried by someone trustworthy, but we will get word to them as quickly as possible.”
“Am I to stay with you…even if I can’t help?”
“You are to stay with us. Yes.”
She sighed. He wasn’t arguing but his mind was set.
“Julia Cator was your friend,” he ventured.
She nodded. “Since we were children.”
“And if one man had attacked her instead of many and you had been there, would you have tried to help?”
She huffed, utterly insulted by the question.
“You fill with scorn when I pose the question,” he commented.
“Because it’s absurd! Would I have tried to help? I would have killed him and never thought a thing about it.”
“And what if someone attacked one of your brothers?”
“Which brother?”
He chuckled. “Which is your least favorite?”
“I see what you’re trying to do, but those situations are not at all the same as assassinating a man.”
“You’re right. The situation you deem acceptable, coming to the defense of a loved one, takes a life and saves a life. The men we’re going after are responsible for the destruction of whole villages and the massacre of many. And they will keep at it until they are dead.”
She noticed Graybil glance at her, trying to judge her reaction. “Even if I agreed it was necessary,” she ventured, “which I do, surely you agree that not everyone is capable of … of doing what you suggest.”
“I absolutely agree. Most are not capable of doing what we do.”
“Well then?”
“You are not most.”
Conflicting emotions shot through her. Pride. Confusion. “I cannot imagine why you say so. You don’t know me.”
“Perhaps I know you better than you think.”
“Knowing my father is not the same as knowing me.”
“True. Although I see much of him in you.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
“It’s a fact, but spoken with admiration.”
“I think the Seidh were mistaken,” she blurted.
“They’re never mistaken,” Kidder said.
None of them were listening. “I have never done anything to—”
“But you will,” Forzenay interrupted.
“I’m afraid all I will do is disappoint you.”
“I know,” Forzenay replied. “But you will not.”
“And you say all this with such certainly because Milainah said so?”
“It was not only Milainah. The entire council concurs. There was no dissent.”
“What would I do?”
“Play a part. The men we’re after are clever and exceptionally careful, especially Tariq, one of their most diabolical leaders. The group has been impossible to infiltrate. They surround themselves with their own kind and no one else is allowed close. With one notable exception. Women.”
She felt her face grow warm. “Prostitutes, you mean?”
“No. Tariq does not care for prostitutes. He likes his ladies more innocent.”
She couldn’t think of a thing to say and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself with her face so aflame.
“We need to get you into his lodge,” Forzenay added.
“So that I can kill him?”
“A poison will kill him. Your function will be to put it into his drink.”
It was so preposterous that she could barely think, much less react intelligently. “Oh, is that all?”
“No, that’s not all,” Vincent spoke up. “You’ll have to know a half dozen other ways to kill a man in the event something goes wrong.”
“Nothing will go wrong,” Forzenay rejoined casting Vincent a dark look.
“Something always goes wrong,” Vincent retorted.
“She should agree to join us,” Stripe said. “Or have the right to refuse.”
“I agree,” Kidder spoke up.
Graybil nodded. “So do I. She should know what we know and then she should have the choice. If she doesn’t want to do it, I’ll return her to the Forge.”
“She’s not to go back to the Forge,” Forzenay stated. “Not yet.”
She shifted around to look at him as best she could. “Why not?”
“Because your father and brothers are in charge of a military operation that will fail without them.”
There was a moment of silence before she said, “And I am a distraction.”
“Not because of anything you’ve done or would do. I know it’s a sacrifice and it may be only one of many you’ll be asked to make.”
She felt hopelessly out of her depth. “Is Milainah mortal?”
“I believe so. I know they are human when they are called. They give their lives to the white art of divination and, through that, they’re altered.”
“Altered?”
“Yes. Through magic and spirituality, they become more than us.”
“I saw her eyes change color.”
“That’s the least of it,” Forzenay said.
“When we stop at midday, we’ll begin your lessons,” Vincent said. “Whether you agree to join us or not, survival is a good skill to have.”
She glanced at him and saw he looked concerned. It made her feel off-balance.
“And on the way,” Graybil said, “we’ll tell you about these men we’re after, what they’ve done.”
“And they’ll keep doing,” Kidder added. “You’ll agree. And you will never think a thing about it afterwards.” He paused before adding, “What we do does not haunt us.”
Forzenay spurred his horse into a canter and Ammey was glad of it. It gave her the chance to consider all that had been said and what was being asked of her. She could well imagine the reaction her father and brothers would have if they knew. They would hate it. They’d forbid it, if they could. For a moment, the thought was highly satisfying, and then it dawned on her that helping the Five would prove she was strong and capable, that she could be a contribution rather than a burden. Granted, her claim she could fight as well as her brothers had been puerile, but she could fight, ride and strategize better than most. She could be an asset. She could make a contribution to the Five and that would prove it to them. “I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll do what you ask.”
~~~
Vincent faced Ammey and pinned her in a direct gaze. “We’ll keep this simple,” he said. “But even simple is not easy. It is never easy to kill a man.” He gave a slight shrug. “Or hardly ever. The point is, you’ll probably only ever use this in the event your life is threatened, so learn it well and do not hold back. Use the heel of your hand,” he said as he took hold of her hand and tapped the base of it brusquely. “Use all your force. Aim straight out. One blow, here,” he instructed, stretching her arm out and placing her hand against his throat. “Precisely here.”
“How is she going to practice this technique?” Graybil teased. He was stretched out in the shade, having finished the noonday repast.
Vincent’s expression did not flicker, nor did he look away from Ammey.
“Why not my fist?” she asked.
“Because fingers break. Now, go through the motion slowly. Picture your enemy falling in your mind. Before you ever move, see it. Want it.”
She imagined the shadowy face of Julia’s attacker just before he pounced.
“It must be one blow and they must never see it coming,” Vincent said, taking a step back. “Step out, driving all the force in your body into that spot. Crush his windpipe.”
Her concentration was complete as she stepped forward, slicing through the air with an involuntary, primal cry.
Vincent moved with her, keeping just out range. “Good. Again.”
Ammey went through the motion again and again. She was killing a man. She was saving Julia. She could do this.
“Next, from the side,” Vincent said as he moved next to her. “Use your elbow or the side of your hand. Same target. Like this,” he demonstrated in slow motion. “This is not a position of great advantage, but it can work. Try it.”
She did.
“Again.”
She did, with more confidence.
“Knees,” Graybil spoke up again. “If you need to incapacitate.”
Vincent nodded. “Kick sideways, like this, directly at the knee.”
Forzenay crossed his arms as he watched, impressed that Ammey had so fully engaged. He’d expected more resistance.
Kidder looked at him. “What is it you learned from the Seidh that you haven’t shared yet?”
Graybil and Stripe turned their attention to him. Forzenay had known they would ask. They knew each other too well for concealing secrets. “It may not be Corin.”
Stripe drew back in surprise and glanced at the others who were clearly as stunned.
“I should have said that Corin may not be in control,” Forzenay clarified. “Whomever is in league with the dark force is from Bellux-Abry and associated with Corin.”
“Dark force,” Stripe repeated warily. “What kind of dark force are we talking about?”
“Kidder,” Vincent called, motioning him over.
Kidder got to his feet. “Don’t explain without me,” he said before going to join the lesson. “What?” he asked Vincent.
“Turn around. We need to kill you.”
Kidder turned. “Anything to oblige.”
“Here,” Vincent said, pointing to the base of Kidder’s skull. “Hit here hard enough and you will kill a man.”
“Am I dead yet?” Kidder asked.
“Use the heel of the palm,” Vincent continued. “Or the knuckles of your fist.”
Ammey went through the motion slowly.
“Again,” Vincent said.
She did it again.
“No, slightly lower. Here,” Vincent showed her. “See it? Here,” he said, taking her hand and placing it in the precise spot.
“Now am I done?” Kidder asked. “She’s killed me twice.”
“Fine, you’re done,” Vincent replied snappishly. “I do apologize for taking you away from whatever vitally important business you were about.”
Kidder threw up a hand as he strode back to the others. “It’s alright. Carry on.”
Vincent turned back to Ammey. She was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. It glistened on her, and made her tunic stick to her skin. Her breathing was labored, her pulse visible in the hollow of her throat. He wished the sight of her was less arousing. “Do you want to rest?”
She put her hands on her hips. “No.”
He nodded and turned away, glancing down at himself to make sure his erection was not too obvious.
“What if someone grabs me?” Ammey asked.
“Good question,” Vincent conceded. He noticed the others getting up and walking away. “If I come at you—” He turned and came at her abruptly and she lifted her arms in defense. He grabbed her wrists and yanked her to him. “You’re mine.”
She tried to wrest herself free, to no avail. “I could kick you,” she threatened.
“And would you announce it first?”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
Unless he missed his guess, she was considering lifting her knee into his groin, thinking he might be a little less smug then. “I could easily throw you down, get on top of you and do whatever I wanted. So could anyone. Stop struggling!”
She frowned, not liking the command.
“Frown all you want. I’m teaching you a lesson here.”
“What lesson?”
“One, I’m stronger. Men are stronger.”
“Two?” she asked in a bored tone.
“You’re very beautiful.”
Her face registered surprise, then heat, and she looked away from him, livid at the new approach to disarm her.
“Desirable,” Vincent added. “Men will want you.”
“Is there a three coming?”
“Accept those two premises and I’ll teach you how to get out of this.”
“Fine, I accept them,” she replied flippantly.
He gave her a brief shake. “You have to mean it.”
She looked at him, prepared to retort, but she saw the sincere concern in his face. “You’re stronger. I know that. I have five older brothers.”
“I’m stronger and?”
“And men will—”
“Go on.”
“Can we continue with the lesson? You have made your point.”
“Men will what?”
“Desire me,” she said, looking away from him.
“No, Ammey, it’s more that that. They’ll want you in unholy ways. They’ll want to take you. Sometimes to break you. Do you understand?”
“Yes!”
“Then twist inwards hard.”
She did and he lost his grip. She was surprised and delighted. “It worked,” she exclaimed.
He came at her again, and they went through the motion again. This time she shook him easily and quickly. She smiled victoriously.
“That only buys you a moment,” he said harshly. “So don’t be too pleased with yourself.”
“You remember the outpost of Sheurvin,” Forzenay began.
Stripe’s jaw clenched, thinking of it.
Kidder nodded. “You don’t forget a sight like that.”
“What about it?” Graybil asked. “Wild dogs had gotten there. Or hyenas.”
Forzenay shook his head. “It was something else.”
“What?” Graybil asked.
“Demons.”
The men came to an abrupt halt. “The Seidhkona said that?” Stripe asked.
Forzenay nodded.
Kidder started to say something and then broke off. “How are we supposed to fight demons?” he finally asked.
“We’re not,” Forzenay replied. “We can’t. It is the one that summoned the dark force who must be stopped. Only when he’s dead is the alliance broken and the demons exiled back to the underworld. But not by us. No human force can combat demons.”
“Do we go forward with our plan?” Stripe asked. “Eliminate Gilley and Tariq?”
“Gilley the elder and younger,” Forzenay said. “The elder is more culpable than we thought.”
“Would it not be better to abduct one of them and get the truth from them?” Graybil posed. “Find out who their leaders are? Who summoned the dark force?”
“They won’t necessarily know,” Forzenay replied.
“Were you foretold how events will turn out?” Kidder asked.
“No. There are too many variables, but there is hope. There is a path and one who must take it.”
“That sounds like a prophesy,” Stripe commented.
“It was.”
“Do you know who the one is?” Graybil asked. “Can you at least say if it’s one of us?”
“It is not one of our five,” Forzenay replied. “Although success in Draven is crucial.”
“So perhaps Gilley or Tariq is the one who summoned the dark force,” Kidder mused.
“I don’t know,” Forzenay admitted. “All I know is that we must push on and reach Draven as quickly as possible.”
“Demons,” Stripe muttered. “Great.”
~~~
Ammey jerked awake less than an hour after she’d fallen t
o sleep.
“It’s alright, Ammey,” Kidder said. “It’s just a particularly obnoxious owl tormenting us.”
As if on queue, the owl hooted again. Loudly. It was close by.
“Cursed thing,” Graybil muttered.
Ammey suspected she’d been the first to drop off to sleep and maybe the only one. Night after night, she fell asleep quickly, despite sleeping on the ground. During the day, they were either riding hard or training hard. Her body was sore from it. The advantage to being kept so occupied was that it helped in dealing with her grief. She’d had to compartmentalize it. Had she been at home, it would have been different. She rolled onto her back and noticed the low hanging clouds moving quickly in the sky. It was the sort of sky that would be conjured by a sorcerer.
“If Milainah was here,” Graybil said. “She could order the owl away and we could get some sleep.”
“Go,” Stripe bellowed. It was followed by the sound of heavy wings flapping, which grew fainter as the owl flew off. “You only had to ask,” Stripe said glibly.
“I”ll remember that,” Graybil muttered as he turned onto his side.
“Someone should offer something wise for us to sleep on,” Kidder suggested. He turned his head to look at Ammey. “It’s always good to think of something wise before you sleep.”
“I’ve got one,” Stripe said. “It is always easier to sleep when people stop talking. How’s that?”
“Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem,” Forzenay murmured.
“That means—” Kidder said, directing it to Ammey.
“When life’s path is steep,” Ammey said as she thought it out, “keep your mind even.”
“That’s right,” Kidder said. “Very good. Homer.”
“We know who it is,” Vincent complained from Ammey’s immediate right. “Go to sleep.”
“Sadly, I wasn’t fortunate enough to have enjoyed such a lofty education as Forzenay,” Kidder said quietly to Ammey. “But I did have Forzenay teach me one quote in Latin. My motto. Do you want to hear?”
She grinned and nodded.
“Brevior saltare cum deformibus mulieribus est vita.”
Ammey looked up at the sky as she thought about it. Once she understood, she smiled and then made the mistake of glancing at Kidder. His expression pushed her over the edge and she burst into laughter along with him. Forzenay also chuckled.
