FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Fuck off!” Tommas threw out a hand to push Shanti away at the shoulder. Instead of blocking, or swiping it away, or even letting it reach its destination, she instead grabbed it and pulled.

  Tommas lost his balance immediately and took a giant step in Shanti’s direction. He let go of Tasha in anticipation of landing on his face. Shanti stepped around him deftly, putting herself between the two.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tommas growled. He’d just decided to kick her ass.

  What a small minded idiot. As Rachie would say, he was in bad need of a bitch slap.

  “Tasha, there is about to be violence. You’d best run off now,” Shanti said calmly, her eyes never leaving Tommas. “If you head east, you will probably run into a fifteen-year-old kid called Leilius. Ask him to take you home. Stay away from this Tommas creep. If he comes near you again, you let me know and I will sort him out. Yes? Hurry along.”

  And she was running away east. Good girl. Now for the creep.

  “What the fuck, Tasha?” Tommas frothed. His disheveled glare found hers. Something was wrong at the basic level with this youth. He wasn’t safe and probably just starting to show the signs.

  Luckily, she had a great deterrent for future violence in others. It was called fear.

  Tommas’s body was square to her. “What do you want, you nosey slut? To take her place?”

  “Slut? I’m unfamiliar with that one. But since you were so kind to use it in context, I think I get the jest. Gist? Jest is a joke, I think. Although, that also works.”

  “Screw this. No one will believe you over me.” Tommas struck out, the back of his hand swinging at her from across his body. He was impossibly slow.

  She ducked under.

  “Oh, you’re fast, huh? Had a father that beat on you?” Tommas asked, the bravado having slipped a bit.

  “Ah, yes, pouring salt in the cut. I must warn you, that is not wise, Tommas. Not with me.”

  He reached to grab her, apparently not realizing his body advertised the move a full two seconds before he actually did it. She simply slapped his hand away. She was getting bored.

  “You aren’t in the army in this city are you?” she asked even though she already knew the answer. Sanders would throw him over the wall in frustration.

  “With those deadbeats and that fairy Captain? Yeah, right.”

  “Dead. Beat.” Shanti shook her head, spinning around as he circled her. “Fairy Captain. Your slang is way beyond what I know. You cannot control your anger, and you don’t have much stock in morals. This is not a good combination. I can cure you of that—“

  He rushed her with the intent to tackle. With his whole body bent and his arms spread wide—he wasn’t great at judging opponent size—he shuffled toward her and prepared to dive. Since she had plenty of time to think about it, she let him tackle her, making sure she fell slightly to the side. She was curious to see if he was any better on the ground.

  He tried to pin her with his body, rage taking over his movements. Since she was to the side, she angled out and gave him a sharp blow to the middle of this back. He cried out, his adrenaline rushing in to fill his body. It would make him faster and slightly stronger. Hopefully.

  He angled up with his torso and tried to yank her body back to the ground. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it painfully behind him, then let go when he gave a hoarse yell and his chest hit the dirt. It really seemed like he was trying to lose.

  He tried to grab her around the waist, turning on his back to do it. She let him, angling her body to the top of him and straddling his stomach. Then she grabbed his fingers, bending them across the back of his hand, twisting back and down, making the nerves and tendons tweak painfully. It was an extremely easy, and extremely effective, arm lock. He cried out again, his body trying to turn, but since both hands were captured, he just wriggled around.

  She bent his arms under her legs, braced herself, then let go. She quickly pulled out her pack of needles from around her belt, and before he could get his arms freed, put one in the nerve at the top of each arm, near the shoulder, to give him a sleeping sensation. It would be painful to move. He was too much of a coward to push through it.

  “Well, Tommas. You’ve got yourself in a right pickle this time. See, I do know some slang, huh? Anyway, here’s what I’m going to do. I am going to teach you a lesson.” She licked her hand, then gave him a hard slap across the side of his face. To his whimpers she said, “Yes, it hurts more when the slap is wet.”

  She did the other side, leaving an identical welt. He cried out.

  “Tommas, you should know that only cowards pick on the weak. And while, by definition, that makes me a coward, you were posing as a big man, so I think I am just, don’t you? I mean, I have talked myself out of killing you, so that is a step in the right direction, don’t you think?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Yes, we’ve covered that.” She punched him in the kidney, then the other kidney. She gave him a dead leg and then the kidney again, careful to hit in exactly the same places. The damage would last longer.

  When she finished she raised her voice above his sobbing. “Also, only dead men rape women. Or bully them. If I hear you’ve raped anyone, Tommas, I will finish this. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  It was then that she heard the footfall to her right, soft and at the tree line. The person either had a weapon, was Leilius, or wasn’t planning to hurt her just yet. She very nearly opened her mind to make sure, but she trusted Cayan to be right behind the person if they were dangerous. It was a huge leap of faith, yes, but judging by their dealings so far, he considered it his duty. And he viewed duty similar to how she did.

  Not bothering to get up, or secure Tommas any more than she already had, she looked up in that direction. Sterling stepped slowly out of the shadows, his eyes hard and his face a mask of vehemence.

  “Oh. Hello. He a friend of yours?” Shanti asked conversationally. Tommas whimpered.

  “We don’t generally punish our citizens with immediate violence.”

  “How do you know I am punishing him? Possibly I am trying a new sexual experience.”

  “I was drawn by his argument with a woman. Tasha, I believe. You stepped out from your hiding place before I was upon them. I didn’t expect you to defend her honor.”

  “What did you expect, that I would help Tommas?” Her voice took on a dangerous edge, directly reflecting her feelings.

  “You are a woman who knows how to fight. It was possible your tastes border on perversion.”

  “Interesting thought process. What judgment does a woman get if she knows solely how to defend herself? Light disgust and minute snubbing in social settings? And what if she is actually raped because she doesn’t know? Pity from everyone she meets? Lose-lose situation, then, huh? You like your women helpless, is that it?”

  “When I was a teenager I met a woman who was passing through. She fought for a living. She indicated it was her culture’s way. She… Her tastes…”

  “Mardis. Is that who you are speaking of? Generally a short people with big breasts, black hair, whether died or natural, and a tendency toward domination? Whips and chains and leather? It seems I am compared to that nation a lot in this city.”

  Sterling’s eyes got harder. He tried not to grimace, and failed.

  Shanti got up with a light kick to Tommas’ ribs. “Then you’re forgiven your judgment. I had a run in with one of them. She offered that I join their clan—that’s what they call a small hunting party. Their prey were men. Younger the better. Lure them in and debase them. Try to strip them of their manhood for sport. Yeah, I went back to her clan. Then I killed all five. Maybe the woman you…met was in that party. Maybe I’ll find her another day and bring her back to you. Who’s to say?”

  “I would never hurt a woman, regardless…”

  “Sterling, I got newspaper for you. There are a lot of nations in this little world of ours. A whole lot. And most of them have only
fighting men; it’s true. But a great many have women in the ranks, too. A great many, Sterling. If a woman takes up arms against you, you will either need to kill her, or train up your own women to do it for you. Because one thing I know: they will destroy all that you hold dear, despite your sentiments regarding my sex.

  “And with regard to punishing with violence… well, I wasn’t punishing. I was teaching him a lesson. And if he rapes anyone, woman or man, I will kill him. That is a truth, Sterling. I have put my word on it, and so it will be done.”

  Tommas whimpered again.

  “You will hang for it,” Sterling said easily.

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Why, because you think you have favor with the Captain and Sanders?”

  “Favor with the Captain? I couldn’t think of anything more intolerable. Being controlled is not one of my loves. And Sanders would probably tie the rope for you. No, I won’t be hanged. If it comes to that, I’ll be on my way sooner rather than later. Leaving is inevitable, anyway. ”

  Sterling’s eyes squinted. “You helped us. This is not your land. Why should you care?”

  “Wow. You must’ve learned conversational direction changes from Cayan, huh? Well, by asking that question you have proved you are an idiot, Sterling, or a bad person.”

  Shanti walked to the head of a quivering Tommas. She extracted her needles and tucked them back into her pouch. Tommas curled up in a little ball at her feet.

  Shanti looked at Sterling, who was still judging her, “I’ll let you take care of the rest, shall I?” She didn’t bother waiting for his nod before heading back to the hospital wing. She technically wasn’t permitted to leave—Captain’s orders. She had to admire the Captain’s tenacity; he kept trying. Unfortunately, he wasn’t getting any better at being let down.

  Chapter XXV

  “RACHIE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, boy?” Sanders yelled as he marched toward the two fighting cadets.

  Rachie was standing with his hands in the air, surrendering. The boy opposite him was crouched in the attack position, unclear what to do when the enemy surrendered before the fight had begun.

  “Sir, he plans on clobbering me, sir, but he is standing off-kilter and it won’t be effective. I’d rather not waste my energy.”

  Sanders stared mutely at the curly haired idiot. He was too flabbergasted to be mad. “Do it anyway.”

  “But, sir—“

  “That’s an order!”

  Rachie sighed and mumbled, “I’ll just hurt him and you’ll be pissed.”

  “What was that, Cadet?”

  Rachie jumped and shook his head. Apparently Shanti hadn’t completely beat sense into the lad.

  Cadet Jonhas waited for Rachie to look at him, then jumped at the other boy, arms moving in small circles to the side, wrestling style. He feinted once, throwing his whole body to the right. Rachie didn’t bite. Didn’t even flinch. Jonhas feinted a second time, straight at Rachie. Rachie sighed again with a resigned expression.

  The third lunge would go live. Jonhas was indeed a little preplanned, but he was still a Cadet. He had some things to learn in the arena of reality that he could only learn with more experienced fighters. Of which Rachie shouldn’t be one. Not with only a month and a half’s worth of whatever it was he did with Shanti and his fellow Honor Guard members. And though it was his job to be neutral, Sanders hoped Jonhas would ring the kid’s bell. Jonhas was the best of the Cadets and soon to move up in the ranks. He’d been at this a year longer than Rachie and showed ten times the promise.

  As if reading Sanders’s mind, Jonhas rushed in, arms and legs everywhere, trying to mix up his opponent before he smacked him down… and landed on his back.

  Rachie had barely moved. His movements had been straightforward and efficient, and now he stared down at Jonhas with a distraught expression.

  “I didn’t want to,” Rachie said in slight embarrassment. “I told you that—”

  “Enough!” Sanders barked. Rachie flinched. It shouldn’t have been as gratifying as it was. “Rachie, head to the Pit. Jonhas, keep at it.”

  It was time for Shanti’s Honor Guard to get evaluated. He didn’t understand their style, but he couldn’t argue with results. Rachie had been way behind everyone else before the foreign woman showed up, and he’d just won the fight with no strain. The other guys she trained were showing the same sort of results. If they didn’t excel at one art, they were masters at another. Leilius could barely hold a sword, but with a long knife and some cover, he was silent and deadly. Rachie had just proved that hand-to-hand combat was his forte. Marc was now apprenticing with the doctor, who had always known the kid had talent, but hadn’t been able to get it out of him until recently. Gracas was a blur with any weapon he used and often surprised himself when he won mock battles. That kid was under-confident, if anything.

  And then there was Xavier. He was a leader. Even the Captain was taking special interest. He was large but still fast. He could work with nearly any weapon he tried. He had great aim with arrows and knives. And most of all, when he talked, men listened. The group was turning into Xavier’s Honor Guard more than Shanti’s. She talked to him, he talked to his men, and they all excelled.

  Sanders had asked Shanti about it the other day, wondering if she didn’t feel the pinch of Xavier taking her power. She had shrugged in her unconcerned way and said, “The Captain thinks I can’t be reasonable. So I am giving him his chain of command. What do I care who gives the orders, as long as the goal is met?”

  Sanders would care a great deal, actually, but he didn’t want to sound insecure by saying so. But one thing he couldn’t ignore anymore—Shanti had great skill, and she could train. She could be a valuable asset. Sanders hated to admit it, but it was best for all of them if she stuck around. He just wondered how long that would last.

  Chapter XXVI

  TWO WEEKS LATER, LUCIUS STOOD with his back to the window, completely naked, when Shanti walked in. The man had a well-shaped body with wide shoulders, but he wasn’t overbearing. His muscles were cut and defined, and he stood balanced. He was an attractive man with a calm demeanor and patient air about him. He was a good Chance. Steady, strong, a good fighter, and reasonable. He also wasn’t bashful like so many of the men here were.

  “I hear you are able to leave this jip-joint?” Shanti asked as she sat on the bed.

  “Oh good, she has another wonderful little colloquialism,” the doctor remarked in his usual dry tone. He was sitting in the chair, putting his instruments into a leather bag. “With apparently a complete disregard for privacy. I wonder why no one has tried to take her home to mother?”

  “I am being released today,” Lucius said, ignoring the doctor.

  “I hear you are to return as my Chance. Was that your choice, or were you appointed?”

  “Your Chance? I’ve heard you use term before. What does it mean?”

  “My…co-fighter, I guess. My teammate. The one who watches my back, you might say. When I need protection to use my Gift, you provide it.”

  “Caretaker comes to mind,” the doctor commented.

  Shanti shook her head in frustration. “It’s hard to explain, I guess. You are my charge, I am yours. We are—we trust each other—“ She shook her head again. “It’s hard to explain.”

  Lucius nodded slowly. “I volunteered.”

  “Good. Otherwise it wouldn’t work. You’ll be like a sibling to me. A brother. It forbids anything sexual. Our bond, when it comes, needs to be closer than that. You need to leave me behind if that is for the good of the people. And I you. Love and sex make people crazy—makes people irrational. They do stupid things, especially men. There is no logic in it. It does not belong on the battlefield.”

  “Understood.”

  “Not only men do stupid things for love,” the doctor chimed in, placing his bag on the ground and clasping his fingers in his lap. For a man who loathed dealing with Shanti in any capacity, he was happy enough to banter against her comments.

&
nbsp; “On the battlefield, I meant,” she clarified. “Off the battlefield women are their own force. I once tied a woman up and hung her from a tree by her ankles because she went after my—“ Shanti broke off immediately as an image arrested her—her love, lying with opened, sightless brown eyes covered with a film of blood. She lowered her head and focused on her breath, forcing the image away.

  The room went deathly still; apparently the doctor and Lucius were unsure what to say to a strong woman showing weakness. The door opening was a welcome relief.

  “Oh, Captain, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“ Shanti said after the large figure came to a slow halt in the doorway, studying naked Lucius for a second before swiveling his gaze to Shanti. “What does it mean that you are a fairy?”

  The room went very still for a second time, but for an entirely different reason.

  “Where did you hear that?” His gravel voice gave her a shiver. It was the “I’m not happy, and despite the fact that my face is showing no discernible expression, someone will die” tone. In addition, his mental touch slammed against her barriers, giving her a weird, spicy tingle deep in her body.

  “Even though I would love to explore that sensation,” Shanti said, crossing her legs in relaxation, “since it is strange but not unpleasant, it’s rude to force a connection. You need to stick out a bare piece of skin to ask for permission, or it is considered a punishable and grave offense. It is like me perching in your window and watching a private moment.”

  “Are you saying you haven’t?” The Captain’s voice was now amused. His electric blue eyes hadn’t looked away, but his mental touch backed off.

  “No, I jumped through. That’s an entirely different situation that could have been avoided had your door been unlocked.”

  “I don’t ask for permission, I grant it.”

  “Then I guess you are out of chuck.”

  “Luck, you mean,” Lucius said quietly, his eyes on the ground.