by Jean Johnson
Alys cringed. “I did?”
“That.” Kelly pointed at her, confusing Alys. “First, you were startled that you succeeded at all, and now you flinch at the thought of doing wrong. You have got to learn to have confidence in yourself!” Curling onto her knees, Kelly stood and dusted off her practice clothes. Alys moved to help her up, hovering a little in concern.
Both of them were clad in simple trousers and sleeveless tunics. Alys had cast a cooling charm on the walls of the room, which meant the windows and door had to stay shut to keep the air comfortable, but it helped keep them from sweating too much as they exercised. Crossing to the table in the corner, Kelly finished the juice in her mug and poured herself more from the pitcher she had brought up from the kitchen. She saluted the younger woman, as Alys joined her, equally thirsty.
“You’re doing really well. But you have to work on your follow-through. You cannot let down your guard, young lady,” the outworlder chided Alys, giving her a pointed look. Her aquamarine gaze was wry. “What if I’d retaliated while you were still busy being amazed by the fact that you managed to throw me to the ground?
Tossing someone to the ground isn’t going to end the fight, you know.”
“But . . . you said it would. Didn’t you?” Alys asked, confused. This kung fu stuff was rather strange. Useful; she couldn’t deny that . . . but strange.
“I said it would give you an opportunity to end the fight,” Kelly corrected. “Once he’s down and vulnerable, you attack your foe to disable him, and you do it while he’s still trying to get back into a defensive position. Before he can defend himself adequately. Kick him in the ribs, or the kneecap. Stomp on his hand, then on his groin. Kick him in the butt, woman! Do something that follows through on your attack, something that keeps him down and stops him from trying to hurt you again!”
Alys nodded. She knew her soon-to-be sister-in-law was right . . . but it was hard to go against so many years of learning how not to react. Of learning to just take punishments stoically. Not to resist, or rebel. Sipping at her juice, she nodded again and cleared her throat. “It’s just so . . . so hard. I had to just take what my uncle was doing to me, and not show any reactions so that he’d get bored quickly and stop hurting me.”
Her unsteady admission made Kelly’s heart twist with pain. The older woman kept forgetting that Alys’ background and history weren’t like her own. Self-sufficiency made you strong in the way of the Doyles, she thought. But the Devries way is apparently one of stoic, fearful survival, for Alys. Hmm . . .
“Okay, how about we look at this from a different angle. You learned how to endure, and then . . . what, continue on with whatever you had to do?” Kelly asked her.
Again, Alys nodded.
“Well, then we’ll build on that as our foundation. Did you have to go back to doing chores or whatever?”
“Yes, of course,” Alys agreed, unsure where Kelly was trying to lead her. “If he didn’t like something that happened in his work, he’d come out and strike me on the face with the back of his hand. When I just righted myself and continued with my chore, he’d say something vulgar, threaten me, and stalk off again to find someone else to hit. Someone who would cringe more satisfactorily. And I’d go back to feeding the chickens or whatever.”
“Then that is how you must view kung fu. As a chore you need to get back to doing, whatever happens in a fight,” Kelly asserted. Taking the mug from the younger woman, she set it next to her own on the table and tugged her back onto the center of the layers of felting they’d put down for practice mats. “Okay. I’m going to slap you in the face, and just like we practiced, you’re going to take advantage of the moment right after I slap you to throw me. Okay?”
That earned her a dubious look from the younger woman. “You’re going to slap me?”
“Don’t worry; I’m not going to hit you hard, and it’ll all be slow . . . but I want you to recover from the blow, grab my arm, twist and duck, and roll me over your hip just like we’ve been practicing. And then, while I’m down, you’re going to aim a gentle kick at my thigh. That is your chore. Got it?” Kelly asked.
Alys blinked, thought it through to try and settle it in her mind, then drew a deep breath and nodded. “Got it.”
“Good.” Her hand lifted and swung inward in a somewhat leisurely swipe.
It smacked lightly into Alys’ cheek and continued past her shoulder. Alys reached forward, caught Kelly’s arm, twisted under it, moved into Kelly’s body, and heaved, thrusting with her hip and shoulder. Obligingly, Kelly didn’t resist, flopping onto the padding. Alys almost forgot the next step, but shifted her weight and thrust her heel against the downed woman’s leg.
“Good!” Rolling away, Kelly rose to her feet, came back, and smacked Alys with her other hand. And then froze in place, giving her a pointed look. “Well?”
“Oh!” Alys grabbed her arm, and fumbled her way through an opposite-side throw, then stomped downward again.
“Good. Again!” Slap, throw, stomp. Slap, throw, stomp. “Now try stomping on some other body part of mine—still slow, and don’t actually try to hurt me just yet . . .”
Slap, throw, stomp at her shoulder; slap, throw, stomp at her foot—this went on for several more rounds. Until Kelly threw Alys for a loop by shoving her shoulder hard, rather than slapping her cheek slowly. Alys reacted even as she swayed back, affronted by the unexpected attack. She surged forward, shoving Kelly back. The redhead slapped her, cracking her fingers in a loud, stinging blow against her cheek.
A whirl, a body check, and a thump landed Kelly on the felt matting. A slam of her foot . . . landed it on the matting between the other woman’s abruptly spread thighs. Those legs snapped shut, tripping her and sending her to the padded floor as well. Scrambling free, Alys surged to her feet, panting and wary.
“Hold! Excellent!” her teacher praised her, rising as well. “Very good! You took to the lesson like a duckling to a pond, there. You didn’t let either my surprise attack or your own surprise at a successful defense stop you from fighting back. Good job, Alys!”
Relaxing a little, Alys accepted the praise. Her limbs started to tremble. “I . . . I didn’t understand for a moment why you shoved me, but when I shoved you back and you slapped me . . . it was just like you said. I suddenly knew what chore I had to do, to follow through.”
Kelly hugged her. “Excellent! You have the idea in your head, now! Come, we’ll do this a few more times, then we can call it a night, all right?”
Her fingers touched the warm spot on her cheek where Kelly had struck her. The blow was really light, compared to the clouts her uncle would deliver. It stung, but it wouldn’t even leave a bruise. “You . . . um, you can hit me harder, if you need to; I can take it.”
The look Kelly gave Alys was a grim, tight one. “I’m sorry you had to suffer so much abuse, Alys. I won’t hit you like that. But . . . in order to keep you from freezing up with shock, I do have to hit you at least a little bit. I’m not happy about it.”
“But you can’t train me to react properly without it,” Alys agreed. “It does help, thinking of it like just another chore I have to do, in between dealing with my uncle’s anger. It helps a lot.”
That earned her a smile from the other woman. “Then we’ll keep thinking of it that way, and just put you down for kung fu lessons as one of your daily chores.”
Alys giggled. “If you can tear me away from Wolfer’s side. He seems to think one of my own daily chores is sharing hours of pleasure with him!”
“He’s very much like his twin, in that respect,” Kelly confided, her tone lascivious, and both women laughed. Grinning, the outworlder shook her head. “You can’t blame them. Three years without a woman on the isle? Poor things. Ah, well. From the looks of things, six more women will be showing up here sooner or later.”
“And will you teach all of them this kung fu thing?” Alys asked her, gesturing at their makeshift salle.
“Of course! Just the ladies; the
gentlemen have magic on their side,” Kelly dismissed with a flip of her hand.
“Well, so do I,” Alys reminded her. “Not as much as the twins do, but some.”
Kelly arched one of her reddish brows. “Does everyone on this world have some magic?”
“Oh, no.” Alys shook her head. “Not everyone. It’s mostly been concentrated into the upper classes through interbreeding; the higher your noble standing, the more magic you are likely to be born with. Of course, the gods do favor the common classes with magic once in a while. I’m not completely sure about other lands, of course, but that’s how it works in Katan. And in Aiar-that-was. Before it was destroyed.”
“I’ve heard of that place,” Kelly admitted, fetching their mugs of juice. “Where is it, again? Is it close enough to visit?”
“It’s a continent far to the north, about as far above the Sun’s Belt as Katan is below it,” Alys explained. “Aiar also lies beyond the Great Reef. No ship with a deep draft can cross it safely, though,” the younger woman informed her. “And because of the war, the great Portals were closed. There aren’t very many mirror-Gates that can reach that far. So only shallow barges dare travel north or south to do any trading, and only in the calmest times of the year, because they’re barges, not proper ocean ships. The traders take mages with them to calm the waves, but there’s only so much you can do when a really big storm comes along. It’s very risky, though the profits are correspondingly high.”
“Well, I’m not all that fond of boats and ships and traveling on the water,” Kelly shrugged, “so it’s not like I’m planning on taking a trip northward that way.” She let out a short, dry laugh. “Not like I could go west, either, since the Mage Council would throw a fit at a visit from not only the woman who triggered the brothers’ curse-thing, but a woman who went and claimed all of Nightfall for herself.”
“Why did you do that, anyway?” Alys asked. She blushed right after saying it. “I’m sorry, Kelly . . . That was rude of me to ask.”
Kelly laughed. “Not really . . . I think for several reasons. To give the brothers a sense of home instead of a sense of exile, for one. And to assert my authority over them for another. Magicless as I am,” she admitted with a shrug, “I need something to keep the boys in line.”
“But all they have to do is say ‘no,’ and they won’t have to obey you,” the younger woman reasoned. “There’s no way you can make them do what they don’t want to do.”
“Not unless I want to use kung fu on them, and even then, they could use their magic on me,” Kelly admitted. “But then, that’s why I made the claim ‘only on weekends, holidays’—they’re sort of like holy days, only they’re for secular reasons, too,” she explained as Alys gave her a confused look. “And then ‘whenever we have visitors. ’ You see, by giving it a limit based on a specific time or situation, it allows them to believe that they’re still in control the rest of the time.
“Eventually, we’ll have more visitors,” the redhead stated confidently. Then added ruefully, wrinkling her freckled nose, “At least, I’m hoping we’ll have more visitors, and not just the other six prophesied wives. There might even be enough people living here one day to need some sort of government . . . and by then it’ll already be in place. All we’ll have to do is bring it up to full speed at that point in time.”
“Maybe,” Alys conceded. The other woman’s logic was subtle, but strong. “But why you?”
“Why not me? I do have some experience in organizing people, back in the other world,” Kelly stated. “And in organizing activities. That’s what a leader does.” She flashed Alys a smile, her aquamarine eyes gleaming with mirth. “Besides, I insist on living in a civilized land. Why shouldn’t I take charge? It guarantees that the civilization I run will be one that I find acceptable. Including the living conditions. You’re lucky, Alys, that you came here after I insisted the boys scrub this place from attic to basement, shortly after my arrival.”
Alys found herself chuckling at Kelly’s mock-shudder. “Well, better for you to be a queen than me. I haven’t got what it takes. I know my limitations.”
“Hmm. Well, feel free to stretch your boundaries once in a while,” Kelly told her. “It builds character, or some sort of philosophical manure like that.”
Kelly’s comment made Alys laugh and think, This outworlder woman is certainly different . . . But not in a bad way. The younger woman wondered what her home universe was like, to produce such witty irreverence. And so much self-confidence.
“Okay,” Kelly said, setting their mugs aside. The sun was just beginning to touch the western horizon, and supper would be served soon. “One more time, this time as close to full speed as you can, but still keeping it under your control. Remember, at this point, form is more important than speed, but go for speed, too.”
Adjusting her stance on the matting, Alys prepared herself. The two women faced off, Kelly arched her brow, Alys nodded, and Kelly lifted her arm. The backhanded swing was already in motion when they heard a click. Startled, Kelly didn’t pull enough of the blow; the force of her hand striking Alys’ face spun the younger woman partway around. A roar followed the blow, as did a large, charging body.
Kelly reacted instinctively, grabbing and twisting and flinging Wolfer by one of the arms reaching for her. She flung him toward Alys, who reacted better than the older woman hoped, grabbing and whirling and flipping her beloved over her hip. Dumping him on the felt matting with an audible oof and thud from the impact, and a yelping flinch as she started to stomp on his upper thigh. Alys gasped, checking the instinctual move to follow through . . . and fell on top of him as she stumbled, trying to recover her balance.
For an awkward moment, the pair were nothing more than a tangle of limbs and torsos. Wolfer growled something about killing Kelly and tried to set Alys aside, but she was babbling an apology for hurting him and trying to make sure by touch as well as sight that he wasn’t hurt. Watching the pair of them, Kelly bit her lower lip to keep from laughing, then cleared her throat.
“Enough—enough! Alys, you did exactly as you were supposed to do, and no, he’s probably not damaged for life. Bruised and shocked, but that’s about it. Wolfer, stop growling at me. I was teaching her how to defend herself!” Kelly informed him tartly. “If you hadn’t distracted me by barging in here uninvited, I wouldn’t have accidentally hit her so hard!”
“Dammit, Kelly—you don’t hit a woman like that!” Wolfer snapped, finally untangling himself from Alys long enough to shove himself to his feet. She followed him as he growled protectively, “Especially not this woman!”
Kelly glanced at Alys, arching a skeptical brow. The younger woman’s gray eyes widened a moment in puzzlement, then narrowed in comprehension. Grabbing Wolfer’s elbow, she tugged him around to face her. “Wolfer, that’s enough! I am going to learn how to defend myself, and Kelly is going to teach me!”
“But, Alys—”
“I took you down, didn’t I?” Alys pointed out breathlessly. She was still a bit amazed that she had managed to do so, but was ready to take pride in the accomplishment. Wolfer probably weighed half again what she did and had the muscles to match . . . yet she had dumped him onto the padded floor with astonishing ease. Poking him in the chest, she added bravely, “And don’t you dare tell me for one instant that you don’t get hurt when you learn how to fight! I remember very clearly the day Dominor broke your arm in sword practice, and you telling me that bruises and breaks happen in practice! Don’t you dare apply a double standard to me, now that I’m learning how to stand up for myself in a fight!”
She poked him again as she spoke, then a third time for good measure. He frowned down at her, but in a sort of thoughtful way. Not an upset one, though his hand did rise to rub at the muscles she had bruised. “That was just . . . practice?”
“Yes! Like you trying to beat the stuffing out of your littlest brother the other day!” Alys reminded him. And then poked him a fourth time. “And no more beating on Morganen,
just because he and I like to chat with each other! I didn’t come here to marry him; I came here to marry you!”
Something clicked behind those golden eyes. They narrowed. “You planned this, all along?”
Alys flushed and started to stammer some sort of disclaimer. That wasn’t quite what she’d meant . . . though it wasn’t quite a lie, either. Kelly came to her rescue, tapping the mage on his elbow. He glanced her way, and she folded her freckled arms as she gave him a quelling look.
“Don’t even think of being angry at her, Wolfer. It’s not like she’s holding a gun to your head to get you to marry her!”
Wolfer paled a little. He had seen from a distance the demonstration the Mandarites had made of their gun-weapons, and the demonstration Kelly had made with one of her own world’s versions. He had also seen the wreck of Trevan’s shoulder, and the blood his younger sibling had lost. “Don’t even joke about that, Kelly!”
She rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth shut. Alys touched his other elbow. “I didn’t mean it like that, Wolfer. I meant . . . well, I hoped we would still feel for each other like we used to . . . and more. And we do! I never felt that way for Morganen, and I never will. So he’s perfectly safe for me to talk to . . . you big, overgrown, jealous pookrah!”
“There’s no cause to insult me like that!” he protested, mock-frowning at her. “I’m a wolf, not a wardog!”
“If the two of you are going to keep flirting with each other like this, I’m going to have to ask you to take it elsewhere. This is a dojo, not a brothel,” Kelly interrupted dryly. “Besides, we’re not quite done for the day. Out you go, Wolfer.”
“But I came here to—”
“Out!” Tugging firmly on his sleeve, Kelly dragged him out of the chamber. “You can have her after we’ve done our cooling-down exercises and stretches!” Closing the door in his face, she turned to her pupil, sighing. “Sorry about that, but if we don’t go back to work, we’ll stiffen up. And you did really well, defending yourself against him.”
