Zara the Wolf

by C. R. Daems

  Shelly backed me up. "The duke wants something from each of us. Whatever that is, if one of us fails, we have failed the duke." This seemed to appease Eaton. She was young but mature beyond her years.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SALMAN: Earl Pelote

  As we approached Earl Pelote's domain, the land became rocky and hilly, ideal for bandits or small parties of raiding Indians.

  "What do you think, Zara?" Eaton asked as he rode up beside Shelly and me. He had seemed more relaxed for the past few days.

  "Good country for a sneak attack."

  "Indians?"

  "In the Black Mountains, they live high up and therefore don't raid every year. I don't know these mountains, but I would presume they would be small parties of youths out to prove themselves. So I doubt they would take on a party this well-armed during the day. The only things of interest to them would be the mules and the swords, which would be too hard to steal and get away with. And even at night it would take a large band of bandits to attack us."

  "Indians would only be interested in the mules and swords?"

  "Unlike bandits, they aren't going to sell what they take. If they can't eat or use it, they won't take it—like money." I grinned and Eaton laughed.

  "What about the horses?"

  "Not much use in the mountains. Slow them down."

  "That makes me feel better. I wasn't worried about bandits, just Indians." He nodded. We rode in silence afterward. Later that morning, a detail of ten troopers rode into sight, wearing the black and blue of Earl Pelote. The lieutenant leading the group nodded to Eaton but went directly to Shelly and saluted.

  "Lady Shelly, I'm Captain Dellett. Earl Pelote sent us to welcome you and provide you safe escort. These hills are a haven for bandits and small bands of Indians. We patrol regularly, but these foothills provide lots of places to hide," he said, giving me a questioning look.

  "Thank you, Captain. Lieutenant Eaton is in charge of my detail, and Zara is my chaperone and companion."

  After the introductions, the captain led us farther into the foothills. Toward evening, we crested a small hill and the grey castle walls of Salman could be seen atop a high plateau. A steep trail led to the top, where a small town had grown up around the castle. A dirt road led straight through a variety of wooden houses and shops to stone walls the height of three men and two massive wooden doors guarded by two soldiers with halberds. They stepped aside and saluted as the captain approached and we filed inside. The courtyard ended at a dark gray rectangular castle four stories high. The castle looked old from the color of the stone and vines covering the walls. A tall thin man with several young boys and girls stood observing us at the bottom of the steps leading to the entrance.

  "Lieutenant Eaton, if you will follow my sergeant, he will take you and the caravan to your quarters." He pointed to a group of buildings and stables off to his right. "Lady Shelly, if you would follow me, I'll escort you and your entourage to the castle."

  Shelly smiled sweetly and nudged her horse alongside the captain's. I fell in behind her with her ladies-in-waiting following. When we reached the man at the steps, she dismounted. A stableboy hurried up and took the reins to her horse while two others grabbed mine and the other women's.

  "Lady Shelly, I'm Minister Lionett. The earl sends his welcome and looks forward to seeing you after you've had time to refresh yourself. I've prepared rooms for you and your entourage." He waved to a teenaged girl, who ran to his side. "Cheri will take care of your needs while you are here and will see to having your clothes delivered to your room." He waved toward the entrance and we followed him up the steps and into the castle. Shelly's room was spacious and included a separate sitting room. The second room had three beds to accommodate Musa, Sarkis, and me. While her ladies saw to getting her clothes and things arranged, I stayed with Shelly.

  "Well, Lady Shelly, I'm new to castles and royalty. What will be expected of me?"

  "Strange. In the mountain with savages, wild animals, and hostile weather, you were relaxed, yet here you are uncomfortable."

  "The environment and rules have changed. There, I was a warrior; here, I'm a slave." I thought that a good comparison.

  Shelly remained silent for some time. "Yes, I see your point. Here, the earl's word is law. Only the duke can overrule him, and he's days and leagues away." She worried her lip for a moment before continuing. "My ladies-in-waiting will get me the things I need and help me prepare for events. I've named you my chaperone and companion, so you will be allowed to follow me around and attend any functions I do, although they will seat you with the lessor nobles and dignitaries. But the duke's letter is very specific and says you are to remain with me at all times, implying I'm young and need watching."

  "Good, then I'll sleep in your sitting room." I grinned at her expression.

  "You can't! There is no bed in—" She laughed. "I imagine you've slept most of your growing up years on the ground. After you saved me, it took weeks for me to get used to a bed again."

  "Have you considered what I said about carrying a knife?"

  "No lady carries a hidden knife, maybe openly for certain special occasions."

  "How do you know, if it's hidden? Spying for the duke and planning to be a duchess will attract enemies like deer attract hunters."

  "That's why I need you." Her face became serious, and she pointed a finger at me. "I saw the duke's request as a game; you've reminded me it's an adult's game where being a noble won't protect me. I'll need instruction," she said in resignation. I nodded.

  * * *

  I washed and changed as Musa and Sarkis helped Shelly wash and dress for the meeting with Earl Pelote, which was set for an hour before a formal dinner.

  "I never realized," she said when she had finished dressing, her eyes misty. "Your body is a mass of scars. How did you survive?"

  "I used to think it was hate. I did hate them, and that helped, but I survived because I wouldn't be a slave. To them, it was a game to see how long it would take to break or cripple or kill the slave. But my freedom was worth dying for, so it didn't matter what they did to me."

  "Lady Shelly, it's time," Musa said from the partially open door. "Cheri is here to take you to the meeting with the earl."

  Cheri led us down to the second floor and through a long corridor lined with paintings of men and women and life-sized statues dressed in armor and holding weapons used over the years. At the end of the hallway, Cheri knocked then pushed open the door. A broad-shouldered man stood inside, dressed in silks and hunting leathers, an odd combination that appeared to suit him perfectly—a noble and man of action.

  "Lady Shelly, come in. You've grown into a beautiful woman from the devilish little girl I remember."

  "Thank you, My Lord. Those were fun years." Shelly curtsied.

  I gave a small bow of my head.

  "Who's your ... companion?" he asked as he assessed me. I had left my sword in the room but wore a short dagger inside my boot with the handle showing.

  Shelly handed him the letters from Duke Wetzel. "My chaperone and companion, to ensure my devilishness remains in check."

  "Yes, and your safety. I heard you had been captured by savages and Duke Wetzel hired someone to free you. Your companion?" he asked, staring hard at me.

  "Yes. Earl Pelote, this is Zara, the woman who negotiated my release."

  "Well, Zara. That sounds like an interesting story. Why don't you sit? Cheri will get us drinks and you can tell me all about it. Wine?" He looked to Shelly.

  "Berryjuice," she said. Then he looked to me and I shook my head. He sat as Cheri scurried out the door.

  "It started when uncle Hillard asked if Phillip and I wanted ... " Shelly retold the story in some detail, except for her time in slavery.

  Pelote sat quietly the whole time, alternatively watching Shelly then me. "You were lucky, Shelly. I've never heard of anyone escaping the savages before." He looked to me. "I understand you claim to have escaped them, Zara, but they made you a
warrior." The implication was clear—you are one of them.

  What could I say? I'm not. How could I prove that? I decided to say nothing. The silence dragged on until Shelly intervened.

  "Duke Wetzel believes her; his Cheyo Monk believes her; and I believe her."

  "Of course, Shelly, otherwise the duke would never have trusted your life with her. I'm having problems with the Indians lately and would appreciate any advice Zara could give me," he said, looking toward me. A good recovery I thought, since I doubted he had changed his mind. But I needed to play the game anyway.

  "What kind of trouble?"

  "They seem to be raiding far more frequently than ever before."

  "What are they stealing?" I asked. It didn't sound right unless they had moved their camp closer to the foothills.

  "Everything."

  "And killing everyone? Raping the women?"

  "No rapes, thank God. There are deaths but not everyone."

  "Doesn't sound like the Indians I know, but I don't know the Indians in the Vulture Mountains.

  "They are all the same! Savages."

  "If they are all the same, then you don't have an Indian problem. They wouldn't steal everything. They don't have our values. Money, pictures, clothing, and similar items have no value for them, and they wouldn't take anything that would slow them down. They would rape the women and kill everyone. Children they might take as slaves. And they would return to the mountains within days. Sounds more like mercenaries acting like Indians."

  "Rape the women and kill everyone?"

  "Killing everyone delays the discovery and subsequent search for them. Besides, they consider us little better than cattle. However, mercenaries—while ruthless—still have some reluctance to killing when it's unnecessary. And they would work an area as long as they could."

  "You make them sound blood-thirsty."

  "I've heard several suggestions that we should find their camps and kill every man, woman, and child." I shrugged.

  Shelly choked back some response.

  "Yes, my captain has suggested we do just that, and I'm inclined to agree with him. The savages killed my son on a routine scouting detail." He rose, which ended further discussion. "It's time for dinner and wine to dull the pain. I'd like my captain to talk to you. Maybe you have an ideal on how to catch them."

  Them wasn't defined, but I thought he meant savages—Indians—not mercenaries. When we arrived, some fifty people were assembled at three long tables arranged like a giant squared-off letter C. Shelly was seated at the earl's table and I on the table on its right. I ate slowly, as I still didn't like knives, forks, or spoons and found most of the food too rich. By design or accident, Captain Dellett was seated to my right. We spent much of the meal discussing the raids. He too was fixated on it being an Indian problem and pursuing them into the mountains. I didn't bother explaining that was a stupid idea even if it were the tribes causing the problem.

  * * *

  We stayed two more days. I was itching to leave, but Shelly said she needed a few days to poke around, which I took to mean getting to know the nobles better. She was right, looking meant meeting people and getting a feel for the place. I wasn't sure what I was looking for or that I'd know when I found it, but Shelly seemed to have a strategy. The morning of the fourth day, we left with our supplies replenished and everyone rested. The earl sent a detail of ten soldiers to see us safely out of the foothills. They stayed with us the first night but left in the morning. We were out of the foothills, but the land wasn't flat, mostly rolling hills of grassland and forest fed by the Black River, which we would follow to Ayus.

  "You don't mind the camping out," Shelly said as a statement rather than a question.

  "No, I've lived most of my life in the open. Castles feel like cages and they … stink," I said with a shrug.

  Shelly laughed. "I'm probably the only noble that actually understands what you mean. Being a slave was educational, but I'm grateful you came along before I was taught to be a mother." She was quiet after that. We stopped in a small forest as the sun was setting. The cook, Berra, prepared a hot stew, and we sat around three separate fires: the soldiers, Lady Shelly and her entourage, and the caravan personnel, although the lieutenant did join us occasionally. Shelly was quiet during the meal. Afterward, she rose and walked over to me and kissed me on my forehead.

  "Thank you, Zara. I'm not ready to be a mother." She headed to her tent with Sakis and Musa following. I decided to wander around the camp, noting the guards Eaton had posted.

  "Satisfied?" Eaton asked as he neared me. I nodded.

  "I'm sure the duke and you picked the best men for this trip, since it's important to him."

  "To protect Lady Shelly."

  "For many reasons. Did you find anything of interest?" I asked, wondering if he would share what the duke had asked him to investigate.

  "The earl has a good garrison, and his security is excellent, but the Indian situation is troubling," he said, giving me a hard look. "You don't believe it's Indians?"

  "No. They act like mercenaries, not any savages I've known."

  "Did you find anything?" he asked, knowing that like him, I had a mission for the duke.

  "No. Nothing of interest."

  * * *

  I woke to a deathly darkness, no moon, stars, or noise. I panicked, feeling like I was being dragged deeper into the void. Then I remembered the exercises with the Monk and sought to quiet my mind, but the feeling of sinking deeper into the blackness kept me close to panic. Fortunately, the Monk's exercises slowly won, and I found that quiet place. As I did, the area appeared bathed in blue light. I could see the camp, mules, horses, tents, and a thin man sitting on a horse. Behind him were a dozen half naked Indians crouched on one knee, waiting.

  The man turned his head in my direction, and a large Indian jumped up and began running toward me screaming, with his sword raised to strike. I knew he wasn't real and the fight was in our minds. His overhead attack I met with my sword angled down. The force of the blow drove his sword down mine and threw him slightly off balance. Before he could recover, I pulled my sword up, cutting through his arm and reversing it for a cut to his head, but before I could strike, the image disappeared. Immediately, two more Indians sprang to life and charged me. But they were different. One was clearly an Indian, naked to the waist with his chest painted, but the other, while also naked with his chest painted, had a square-jawed unshaven face and short curly hair that shouted mercenary.

  Then I realized he wasn't an illusion; he was real and closing fast. I jumped to my feet, sword in hand, and screamed an Ojaza war cry as I braced to meet his charge. The war cry must have broken the Siren's spell, because the other charging Indian disappeared and the crouching figures no longer looked like Indians but like men dressed partially like Indians. The man threw all his weight behind a strike to my chest. My sword met his in a clash of steel that vibrated through my arm and sounded like a clap of lightening. His momentum carried him into me and my dagger. Even though I had been braced for the contact, the impact sent me stumbling backward. He collapsed at my feet.

  My body strained against a strong wind as I struggled toward the man on the horse, ignoring the fighting and chaos that had erupted in the camp. Hearing the Monk chiding me to attack, I released the image of a wolf that grew as it galloped toward the man on the horse. Then suddenly, I was free of the wind and running. The man realized he had lost the mind duel and kicked his horse into a charge. As the horse pounded toward me, I dove to its right, cutting its front leg on the way to the ground. Tucking my head, I rolled to my feet in time to see the horse stumble and fall, throwing the man to the ground. I walked back to where he lay and cut his throat as he rose. He was far too dangerous to let live. Besides, the duke had insisted our knowledge of their existence must be kept a secret as long as possible.

  I turned to see the fighting had stopped. Surveying the area, six mercenaries lay dead, one on the ground wounded, and two tied to a tree and under
guard. Gritting my teeth at what had to be done, I walked over to the two tied prisoners and sliced through their necks before the guard could respond. Then I walked back to the wounded man. A guard stepped forward, sword extended.

  "You're crazy. Stop or I'll kill you!" he shouted. I raised my sword as he pushed his toward my stomach, caught the blade in my guard, and twisted. The strain on his wrist forced him to release his grip, and the sword flew into the air. As his eyes followed the sword, I delivered a deathblow to the wounded man, turned, and headed toward Shelly.

  "Was that necessary?" Eaton asked, looking down at the young man who had been on the horse. "He and the others were defenseless. You're a bloodthirsty savage."

  I didn't answer and walked back to where Shelly stood. Her face was a pale white, her eyes wide open, and she was shivering.

  "Walk with me, Lady Shelly," I said, pointing away from the camp. She hesitated for a moment, shook her head like shaking water from her hair, and then ran to catch up with me. "That man was a member of a secret society that the duke wanted me to try to identify and the reason for this trip to Kariso. They are Cheyo trained and very dangerous. More dangerous than the Cheyo Monks, since unlike the Monks they have no ethics and want power. I'm endangering you by telling you of their existence, but without your support of my actions today or in the future, Eaton will stop me from continuing. And you can't tell anyone. If they find out we know of their existence, you, me, the duke, the Monks, and anyone else that knows will be murdered. We won't be able to stop them because we don't know who they are—"

  "Lady Shelly!" Eaton shouted as he neared us with two soldiers, swords drawn. "That woman needs to be put in chains and sent back to the duke. She's a bloodthirsty savage. I can't trust her around you or—"

  "Lieutenant Eaton," she held up her hand and then pointed to the two soldiers. "You two return to the camp. Lieutenant Eaton, sheath your sword and walk with us." She held eye contact until he nodded. He couldn't refuse Lady Shelly, a noble who represented his liege lord. "Zara is on a quest for Duke Wetzel. This caravan is her cover. I will tell you she is following his orders, and killing those men … took great courage—"