by John Booth
“And you were wondering if being like me is better than being scared?”
“I didn’t want him to… and I certainly didn’t want his… not ever… but at the same time as being scared, it was… exciting.”
Jalia walked Attala to a bench where they could sit together.
“Woman who go out in the world and act as I do usually end up dead,” Jalia told the girl gently. “Every woman should learn to defend themselves, but better to be raped and living, than dead and unsullied any day. At least, that’s my view.”
“Have you ever been…?”
“Yes,” Jalia said bleakly. For a few seconds she was back in a cave facing certain death. “He was a man not unlike Adon in shape and size, but he was evil in a way that Adon could never imagine. He had a knife and he was going to skin me with it. I thought…, no I knew, that I was going to die. It was the first time in my life that I was ever certain of it.”
“What happened?” Attala asked in a whisper, shocked at the bleakness in Jalia’s voice.
“My knight in trader-boy’s shoes came along and threw a knife that struck him in the back,” Jalia said, laughing at the memory. “If you think I can throw a knife, you should know that Daniel is better than me when he is motivated.”
“Is it wrong… that I miss the excitement of being chased by Adon?”
“Of course not, but it would be wrong to seek that sort of thing.” Jalia took hold of Attala by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Your future is here, with your family. There is excitement enough in building a home and having a child or two with a good man. Don’t be seduced into thinking my kind of life is better.”
“Then why don’t you…?”
“Because I am who I am. I get bored easily and I would rather die young doing something exciting. You aren’t like me. Be who you are.”
Attala smiled and hugged Jalia. This was disconcerting for Jalia, who largely associated all signs of affection as a preliminary for sex. It was a long and awkward moment for her. Attala stood and looked again in Jalia’s eyes.
“Thank you for being honest with me. I feel much better now.” Attala pranced out of the barn, bouncing into Daniel who was in the process of entering. She giggled and ran back to the cottage.
“What was that about?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing,” Jalia replied and went back to preparing Swift for the journey.
The village of Sweetwater had gathered to watch them leave. Donal gave Daniel a firm handshake and then clasped him firmly on the back, as did Pender and Walt. They would have done the same to Jalia except the look in her eye stopped Donal, and the other men wisely took their cue from him.
Before Jalia could mount, Pender stepped forward and drew a knife. Several people gasped in shock, but neither Jalia nor Daniel batted an eyelid.
“A gift for you, Lady Jalia,” Pender said as he offered her its hilt. “To replace the one you lost in the hall. It’s the only throwing knife I could find in the village.”
“Thank you, Pender,” Jalia said with a genuine smile of gratitude and took the knife from his hand.
Daniel and Jalia rode from the village towards the east. This was the Slarn road and, according to Donal, it was not going to be an easy one. Jalia, ever the cynic, wondered if the majority of the villagers watching them go were there to confirm that they were leaving. Heroes can be useful, but nobody wants them around when there is nobody left to kill.
“It was a good thing Donal warned us about Pender’s gift,” Jalia remarked once they were safely out of earshot. “Even as it was, I had to suppress an urge to draw my sword.”
“Pender would not last long in a city, pulling a knife without the slightest warning,” Daniel agreed. “Country folk, you have to admire their innocence.”
Daniel and Jalia didn’t see the rider who followed them. That person knew well enough the risk of being seen and circled the village after watching them leave. Their stalker rode far enough behind to be neither heard nor seen.
It was easy to know the way they traveled, as there were no side trails to take. However, if burning rage and the desire for revenge had been an audible sound, Daniel and Jalia would have known about their stalker before they left the village.
Provided a trail is not over rock, a rider on horseback can easily outpace someone walking at a donkey’s pace. Jalia and Daniel were approximately two days behind those they sought and they set a pace that would close the gap by the end of the first day.
They planned to spend the night within an hour of the campsite of those they pursued and catch up with them on the morning of the second day. That way, they would be fresh and their horses would be rested. This would give them an edge in the trouble to come. Since Daniel and Jalia planned to retrieve items bought in all innocence by the people they followed, they could guarantee there would be trouble.
Early in the afternoon, the forest gave way to a large expanse of marshland. A valley with no route for water to leave was filled with it. Between ponds and larger expanses of still water were clusters of stunted trees and bushes. It was difficult to see where the water ended and solid ground began. As the adventurers started to descend the valley’s rim, Jalia spotted their quarry in the far distance. They were on the other side of the valley and were beginning to ascend its slopes.
“Donal advised us to go around the edge of this valley, not across it,” Daniel pointed out as Jalia nudged Swift forward towards the valley’s floor.
“That will take us hours, Daniel,” Jalia pleaded. “The traders won’t camp on the edge of the valley. They’ll camp somewhere beyond. If we go around the edge, we’ll have to camp halfway around and we may not catch up with them until the middle of tomorrow. If we go through the marsh we can camp within a mile of them tonight.”
“We will have to walk the horses,” Daniel told her. “According to Donal, there are bogs and quicksand in the marsh.”
“According to Donal,” Jalia sneered. “He told you himself he has never been here. It’s only rumor and tall tales. I’d never even heard of quicksand until he told us about it. It all sounds like a tale to keep children out of the marsh, if you were to ask me.”
“We will walk the horses, Jalia. I am not risking having to watch Jet sink into mud and drown.”
It became obvious by the time they had traveled a few hundred yards into the marsh that the marsh was worse than Donal had described.
“We should turn back and go around the outside,” Daniel said on the third occasion that he had to drag a sodden boot out from what appeared to be solid ground.
“I still think it will be quicker going straight through.” Jalia knew that she was wrong, but her pride wouldn’t let her admit it. Not that far away, up on the valley rim, their stalker looked on in bewilderment.
“How could people so stupid, kill Mallon and all the others?” their stalker asked the sky and any gods that might be passing through. There was no reply.
“Look, Jalia,” Daniel said as he turned to face her. “We have to turn…”
The ground gave way beneath Daniel’s feet sliding him a couple of yards into the bog where he sank up to his waist. Jalia giggled until Daniel tried to move and sank another six inches.
“Don’t move, Daniel.” Jalia looked around for anything to use to reach him. They hadn’t brought rope with them as it was among the many items Adon sold to the traders. A hundred yards back the way they had come, she saw a stand of stunted trees. “I’ll go and cut a branch to pull you out with. Just stay still.”
“I’ll do my best,” Daniel told Jalia dryly. It was a mistake to speak, as he promptly sank another two inches.
“And shut up,” Jalia screamed at him.
Up on the ridge, their stalker saw what had happened and decided an opportunity had arisen. The stalker started down the slope. Once in the valley the stalker wouldn’t be able to see what was happening, but then the prey would only be fifteen minutes away.
Jalia ran for the trees splashing through pools
of water. Luckily, none of them were deep. She pulled her sword from her back and slashed at the most appropriate branch she could find. It took several minutes to cut it free and Jalia was in a state of panic by the time she finished.
It took even longer to drag the branch through the pools to Daniel. When she got there, the pool he had been standing in stood cool, murky and empty of life.
“Daniel!”
Birds scattered across the marsh at the panic in her voice, but there was no other response.
Jalia dragged the branch so that one end was over the spot where Daniel had been standing. It took her another thirty seconds to strip naked. She dived into the pond.
Nothing was visible beneath the water. Thick mud tried to drag her down but Jalia stirred it up with her hands, digging deeper into it, searching desperately for Daniel. When her lungs were close to bursting, she surfaced to breathe. Her thin naked form didn’t stick to the mud the way clothes and boots did and she found she was able to move around, provided she moved slowly.
Jalia ducked deep underwater again and stuck her hands down into the pool for the second time. She found roots and grasses wherever her hands probed. Once she thought she had found Daniel’s hair, but it turned out to be weed. Time passed without her being aware of it. Daniel was gone.
When her lungs burned and her hands could no longer grasp at the mud without pains shooting through her, Jalia dragged herself from the pond using the branch. It shouldn’t have worked without someone holding the other end, but somehow it did. She tried to see what the branch was jammed against. Jalia’s face was covered in mud and slime and she couldn’t see more than glimpses when she wiped her face.
When she finally got to the edge of the pond, her hands were so slippery with mud that she couldn’t pull herself out. She was totally exhausted and all she could think about was that Daniel was dead. She rolled over onto her back and wept.
It was the sword point against her throat that brought her back to the world.
“I wanted to kill both of you with my own hands. I suppose I will have to settle for you.”
12. Hala
Jalia couldn’t move. She was exhausted and most of her body was still in cold water. Grey slime covered her eyes and even her tears of despair had not cleared them. She was going to die, either from the cold of the water or the bite of a sword. What did it matter which one took her?
“Is that you, Hala?” Jalia managed to croak after a minute of silence. She thought she recognized the twelve year olds voice, but the truth was it could be any girl.
The point of the sword dug deeper into Jalia’s skin.
“I should kill you now,” Hala said. “Take your life the way you took my father’s. My father was Trik. He was the cleverest smartest man there ever was. His place was at Mallon’s right hand and I cannot believe that you killed him. That you tricked him, and then burnt him to death!” Hala’s voice had risen steadily throughout her speech and she finished close to screaming.
“I didn’t,” Jalia croaked with considerable effort. “Had to kill him first.”
Hala sobbed as emotion came close to overwhelming her. Jalia lay helpless before her. Daniel had drowned in the swamp and she was about to get her revenge on the woman who killed her father. She thrust the point of Jalia’s sword into Jalia’s flesh and blood began to ooze from the wound.
Jalia hardly felt the stab of the sword. Hypothermia was beginning to take her out of this world and into the next. In a way, she was glad she was going to die at the same time as Daniel. Their lives had been fun while they lasted, but nothing lasts forever.
“I’m going to kill you!” Hala screamed, daring Jalia to fight back.
“Then do it,” Jalia croaked in response. She closed her eyes and waited for death to take her away in its arms.
Hala breathed rapidly. She lifted the sword as high as she could and prepared to strike. She looked down at this woman who killed her father and ended her world. To her astonishment, Jalia wasn’t even trying to escape; she actually had a slight smile on her lips as she waited to die.
Hala had never killed anyone. Slaves were whipped at her whim, and she had been involved in several fights with other children, but she had never killed anyone. Hala hated this woman who lay helpless before her, the woman who should be begging for her life.
That was how Hala imagined it would happen. That Jalia and Daniel would plead for their lives and she would laugh as she parted their craven heads from their foul bodies. But Jalia was smiling at her as though death was nothing but a release.
Hala let the sword drop to the ground, missing Jalia by inches and ending up stuck in the soft ground. She crouched down and tried to drag Jalia out of the water and onto high ground. Jalia was heavier than she looked. She was mainly muscle and bone for all that her slim frame denied it. Jalia’s body remained exactly where it was. Hala gasped for breath and tried again.
It took her nearly half an hour to get Jalia completely out of the pond. Her body would slide without warning and Hala would fall onto her bottom, causing her to scream in pain. Beneath Hala’s clothes, her backside was covered in cuts and bruises from the whipping she received the night before. The pain from that whipping was one of the things that made her decide to seek revenge. She knew she could not remain in Taldon Fort after Pald, Haf and Lina had witnessed her screaming for mercy at a slave’s hand. Her pride would never allow it.
Jalia was still unconscious when Hala dropped a blanket over her and began to make a fire a foot or so from where she lay. Clouds covered the sun and the air became cold as evening set in. She had to walk back to the same stand of trees Jalia tore her branch from to gather kindling for the fire.
By the time she had the fire going, the sun was setting. She pulled the saddles from the horses, placing her own so that it served as her seat while she watched the unconscious woman. She had Jalia’s sword in her hand and Jalia’s knife stuck into her belt and sat wondering why she had not killed the woman she had come to hate so much. The crackling and spitting of the fire as the oily wood burnt were the only sounds and they gave her no answer.
Jalia came awake and her first thought was to wonder why she wasn’t dead. She opened her eyes and the world swam back into focus. Jalon’s moons were bright in the sky. Blade looked redder than usual while Anvil was almost too white to look at. She turned her head and saw Hala picked out in the firelight. The girl held a sword, though she looked as though she had no idea how to use one. Jalia dismissed her as a threat and allowed her tension to fade away.
‘Daniel is dead.’ The new thought ran round and around in Jalia’s head and refused to go away. Her eyes swam with tears for a few seconds until she managed to gain control. ‘Daniel is dead,’ whispered to her as she sat up and the blanket fell away.
“You are beautiful,” Hala said staring at Jalia’s breasts. Hala unconsciously touched her own chest as she stared enviously at Jalia. “You should get dressed though, it’s cold.”
Fate often turns on a few simple words, and it was Hala’s words that saved her life, because Jalia decided, at that very moment, not to kill her.
“Stay away,” Hala said as she realized the danger of Jalia being awake. She waved Jalia’s sword, not knowing that Jalia could have disarmed her in a second whilst snapping her neck in the next.
Jalia kept her hands low and made no threatening moves. She turned to face Hala and looked the frightened little girl in the eyes.
“I’m just going to the -.”
Jalia leapt forward, plucking the sword from Hala’s hand while lifting the knife from its sheath on Hala’s belt in one smooth motion. She thrust Hala to the ground and swung the sword with all her might.
Hala knew from the moment that Jalia started moving that she was going to die. She didn’t even have the time to raise the sword a fraction of an inch before Jalia took it from her as if she was a little child.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Hala said as the sword arced around in a roundhouse swing towards her.<
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Black fur and sharp teeth exploded as Jalia struck the massive wolf that jumped at them from the dark. The creature screamed in agony as most of its jaw was torn from its face. Jalia stabbed with her knife catching the second wolf deep in the throat. It snapped futilely at her hand as the wound sapped its strength. Then it fell to the ground to die.
Three seconds later, Jalia faced the rest of the pack down, standing open legged and naked with wolf blood dripping from her arms. The pack howled at her. Jalia stood her ground and smiled at them. From Hala perspective, it looked as though the wolf pack had met a goddess and were just taking in that they were outclassed.
Slinking low on their haunches, a couple of the wolves snapped at the hind legs of their fallen brethren pulling their bodies away and out into the night. As fast and as silently as they arrived, the pack was gone.
“And don’t come back,” Jalia shouted after them.
Hala cringed as Jalia walked past her and washed the blood off the sword and knife in the pond. Jalia walked up to Hala, her weapons pointing down towards the child. In a movement so fast that to Hala it appeared instantaneous, Jalia stuck the knife back in its sheath on Hala’s belt and placed the hilt of the sword in Hala’s open hand.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted; I’m just going down to the pool to wash the mud off. Then, if you don’t have any objections, I’m going to get dressed.”
Hala stared open-mouthed and was unable to utter a single word.
Jalia washed both blood and dirt from her body. She stared into the cold dark water and tried not to think of Daniel’s body floating somewhere in its depths. When she was clean, she started to get dressed.
Hala stayed on the ground exactly where Jalia had pushed her. The girl shivered as she thought how close she had come to death. Being torn apart by a pack of wolves is not a painless way to die and she shuddered as she remembered snapping teeth and blood. She stared at Jalia’s sword, still lying against her palm. Hala was not a fool and she knew that Jalia could kill her any time she wanted, sword or no sword. She wondered vaguely why she was still alive.
