by Tim Allen
“Commander, do you see why I love that woman? Keep her safe,” Syn said in Wolf’s ear. “I hold you responsible for her safety.”
“Nala, promise me you will not let yourself to be injured in battle. Give me your solemn word.”
“I will battle with care,” Nala promised. “Thank you for restoring my pride. The thought that you, of all men, find me desirable is flattering beyond all words.” She stood and walked off into the darkness. Wolf could not see her, but he could hear her crying softly.
“We are doing the right thing, Commander. I will talk to Skylla and let you know what must be done to satisfy the Nannas’ custom. In the meantime, keep Nala safe. I mean it, Wolf!”
Chapter 25
As Syn walked out of the tent, she found Skylla conversing with Brithee and Leesa by the balustrade, recounting stories of their grandmother and of life as a Nanna. The girls would soon learn the skills they would need to survive. Skylla had drilled them in rudimentary combat, and Brithee showed her mother’s quickness and dexterity. Leesa was less agile and needed to lose twenty pounds to trim up, but Skylla was confident that she would make a reasonably competent Nanna warrior in time.
Syn approached quietly and asked, “Skylla, can I talk to you?”
“Of course. Girls, go and clean up. We will talk more later,” Skylla said to Brithee and Leesa. She followed Syn to the parapet overlooking the village below and asked, “What’s on your mind, Syn?”
“Wolf will choose Nala as his mate,” Syn said with authority.
“What? I was told you and Wolf are betrothed,” Skylla replied, her eyes clouding with concern. “Now you must fight Nala to the death. It is the way of the Nanna. You will lose face if you do not fight for your man.” She seemed annoyed at Syn’s willingness to give up her man so easily.
“No, Skylla, I will not fight for Wolf. I love your sister, and I will not see her shamed because her husband is a jackass. I will do whatever I need to do to help Nala,” Syn affirmed.
“You shame me, Syn. I turned my back on Nala, and I was wrong to do so. When she returns, I will go into exile with her.”
“Skylla, there will be no exile. Wolf will do what I tell him to do!” Syn spoke with such confidence and unwavering intensity in her eyes that Skylla took a step back and gazed at her with newfound respect.
“As you wish, mistress,” Skylla demurred, surprising Syn with her odd choice of words and submissive response.
Later that afternoon, Syn noticed a group of Nanna warriors congregating around the tent. As the gathering grew to about twenty, Skylla called, “Mistress, will you come outside, please?”
Syn appeared in the doorway, dressed in her candy striper outfit. The Nannas whispered and stared at her with looks that ranged from reverence and awe to lusty desire. Syn’s physique was picture-perfect, and her outfit accentuated her curves. She gave the women a friendly smile and asked, “Hello, Skylla, what do you need?”
Skylla and her warriors placed their right hands on their breasts, fingers spread in a gesture reminiscent of the peace sign on ancient Earth, and intoned, “Mistress, we honor you.”
“What’s going on, Skylla?”
“You have been chosen. You are our Enrica,” Skylla answered.
“Enrica? An Old Norse term that means powerful. I assume you want me to lead you, but I am not of your race, Skylla.”
“The honor is not one you can choose to reject. You must accept or we must try to kill you,” a prodigious, muscle-bound woman said. “We have been told you love our queen’s daughter like a sister and offered your man to her to take her shame away. It is an unselfish act, and one our future generations will speak of as legend and with honor. We saw your fighting skills the night Nala’s man was injured. You are a great warrior. You are our Enrica.”
Looking into the faces of the Nanna warriors and seeing it was pointless to argue, Syn responded with a hint of impatience, “Fine. So be it.”
* * *
Wolf and Nala had been walking south for most of the afternoon. As they reached a bend in the trail, Nala froze, sniffing the air, and then drew her whip and dagger. Wolf noticed that she had become so feral, he wasn’t sure the old Nala ever would return. “My people watch us,” she warned in a low voice. “Prepare yourself…and try not to kill too many of them if you can avoid it.”
The attack came from three directions, forcing Wolf and Nala to the left side of the trail, which was blocked by fallen trees and enormous boulders. Nala shouted over the screams of the onrushing Nannas, “It’s a trap, Wolf. Nets will drop over us, and they will try to entangle you with whips. Be careful.”
Moments later, as Nala had predicted, heavy nets dropped over Wolf. Nala avoided the nets with her acrobatic skills and snapped her whip with devastating accuracy, causing several of the attackers to yell in pain. Wolf stood, entangled in the nets, watching Nala as she battled with her tribe. Her agility and skill were remarkable. She had somehow acquired a second whip and was using both hands to fight off the attackers. Her hair flew in the wind, framing the intense look on her face like a poignant snapshot. She disarmed several warriors by striking their hands with her whip ends. Others came at her, but Nala repelled them and blocked their strikes with her whip’s barbs. She dived, rolled, and then back-flipped herself to Wolf’s side.
“Are you all right?” Nala asked, her breathing labored from exertion. She knelt and tried to untangle Wolf from the whips and nets held taut by the other warriors.
“I’m fine, Nala. I can break free easily. I was watching you fight,” Wolf admitted with respect and admiration in his eyes. Suddenly, he yelled, “Look out!” as two wolves attacked. Nala whirled and smacked both in the nose at the same instant, causing them to whimper in pain.
“Hold, Nanna!” a rich, timbered voice ordered.
An older female approached. Wolf saw that she was dark, exotic, perhaps a descendant from the country known as Brazil on Old Earth. Her hair was long and jet-black, dropping to the middle of her back. Her face was oval with large, dark eyes, and her lips were full. She was taller than Nala, but Wolf recognized the likeness and knew the woman was Nala’s mother.
“Nala?” the woman asked in shocked disbelief. She looked her up and down, sniffing the air, first with suspicion, and then with amazement. “At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes, but the nose never lies,” she said, reaching out and hugging her. “My baby, I thought you were dead. How can this be?”
“Yes, Mother, it is I. It is a long story we will discuss later. I have returned now only to bring this brave warrior to meet you.”
The woman gave Wolf an appraising look and flashed a predator’s smile. “Well, well, he is a hefty one. Is this a coming home gift for me, Nala?”
“No, Mother, he is the Warrior of Legend. His name is Wolf.”
The woman approached him, touching his chest and arms through the nets. “He is as hard as the rocks of this land. Tell me, Nala, is he your man?”
Nala blushed and replied, “He has shown interest in me, Mother, but that’s not why we have come here. We serve King Waylan.”
“You serve our enemy?” The woman looked aghast and backed away from her daughter as if she had seen a ghost. “Nala, what have you done?”
Wolf had seen enough and grasped the netting that ensnared him, ripping away the thick mesh as if tearing strips of flimsy paper. He freed himself in a matter of seconds and tossed the netting on the ground. He took several steps towards the Nanna queen, and suddenly, whips sliced through the air, ensnaring his arms and legs from all angles. Wolf continued to advance, snapping the leather whips like gossamer strings and dragging several muscular Nanna warriors behind him like a child pulling a toy wagon. Stopping in front of the queen, he smiled and said in a friendly voice, “Hello ma’am, I am Wolf. I want to talk to you about joining me.”
Astonished by what she had just seen, the woman swallowed hard and replied, “Let us talk in my tent. I will have food prepared. Follow me, big man.” Wolf and Na
la followed the queen and her warriors to their camp in the hills overlooking this forest glen. It was a half-hour walk, and when they arrived, Wolf saw a scarlet tent erected in the middle of the clearing. He followed the woman into the tent, accompanied by Nala. The interior was comfortable, decorated with numerous rugs and pieces of handcrafted furniture.
“Sit,” the queen commanded. Turning to Nala, she asked, “What happened to you, my daughter. Why did you not return to take your rightful place by my side?”
“You know I was sick of the killing, Mother. After the last battle, Jonar’s men hounded me without mercy until I left our lands. I married a man and had children. I was happy for many years. Then, this war started. I knew I would come back to you one day…and now I have.”
Nala dropped her eyes to her hands and quietly confessed, “Mother, I must tell you…I have been shunned by a man in front of witnesses.” She broke into tears, and Wolf had never seen a woman look so frail and helpless.
“Chockta! Attend me,” the queen commanded in an angry voice.
A powerful, battle-scarred woman entered the tent, saying, “Yes, my queen?”
“Escort this outcast from my presence.” Glaring at Nala with contempt, the queen added, “Leave this tent at once! Camp on the outskirts of the settlement, lowly one.” She turned away from her daughter and gazed at Wolf. As Nala backed slowly out of the tent, she gave Wolf a sad, broken smile. It wounded his soul to see her shamed, and his anger flared.
Taking note of Wolf’s rage, the queen said, “I am Dalla, leader of all the Nanna. Let me tell you how we came to be and why our laws require me to send my own daughter to the edge of the camp. In the time of the Never Ending Night, a family wandered into the great wasteland—one man, his wife, and three baby girls. The Fenrir, our animals today, roamed those wastes, and they were hungry. They spotted the family and attacked. The man threw his wife to the pack and abandoned his family. His wife stood firm, bravely defending her daughters. The pack leader stopped in front of her and asked, ‘Who are you to stand unafraid before the Fenrir?’ She looked at the leader, amazed it could talk, and replied, ‘I am Nanna, a loving mother who begs you to show mercy.’ The leader said, ‘We hunger, and the darkness is forevermore, flesh is what we crave,’ and the woman replied, ‘Accept mine as sacrifice and spare my children.’
“The Fenrir leader looked at the woman with pity; yet, his pack was starving, and the young were dying. ‘What am I to do with your young when you are devoured?’ Nanna replied, ‘Raise them as your own.’ The leader’s respect for the woman was high and he answered, ‘So be it—your life for theirs. I will make your death quick.’ He tore her throat out and the pack devoured her. The leader was true to his word and raised the woman’s three daughters as Fenrir. He taught them the way of the hunt, and when they were old enough, he told them of their father’s cowardice and how brave their mother had been. He said he regretted having to kill her, but his own young were starving. The girls took the name Nanna and grew strong in the way of fang and claw.
“To this day, we despise most men. We see how men show their cowardice, raping and killing the weak. Our sisters will not be subservient to cowards or inferior beings. We are predators and all are prey to our whips and blades. We use men merely to satisfy our lust. Love is a weakness…a taboo we do not tolerate. Nala shamed herself by falling for a common man…he is no better than Nanna’s cowardly husband who abandoned her and his daughters to the Fenrir. Her man’s vile actions prove our ways are just. That is why I expel my daughter to the edge of the camp as an outcast. Now tell me about yourself.”
Wolf barely controlled his anger as he said, “I don’t care for your ways. Love is not a weakness.” Checking his anger, he made an effort to be civil. “I am called Wolf. I am from a land far away. Since I arrived in this kingdom recently, I have fought nonstop with savage beasts and violent people, many of them made crazy by a vile drug. I have joined with King Waylan because he has impressed me as a noble leader and a valiant warrior. Several warrior bands have sworn to me, including the Nanna warriors who follow your other daughter, Skylla.”
Dalla sprang to her feet enraged and shouted, “You lie! Skylla is under my command. As we speak, she is harrying that decrepit king’s land and killing his pathetic followers. Why would she change her allegiance? She would never betray me!”
“Skylla serves me now, and I support King Waylan. Your daughter put me through all the tests, and I will submit to any tests you wish. Let’s do them and get it over with,” Wolf said. He picked up a cup and took a careless swig of the beverage.
Dalla sneered at Wolf and retorted, “You think our tests are easy, do you? Well, here’s a test for you.” She picked up a heavy bench and smashed it over his head with no effect. Then, she drew her dagger, gripping it in both hands, and drove it into Wolf’s chest, expecting it to pierce his heart and slay him. To her astonishment, the blade of her knife bent at a forty-five degree angle and Wolf was unharmed. He gazed at her with a bored expression.
Without warning, Wolf grabbed the queen’s arms and pulled her into his lap. He grinned as she struggled against his strength and fought to break free. After restraining her for several minutes, he began to feel aroused and let her go, saying, “Dalla, I can’t be harmed, so can we move on to your toughest test?”
Humiliated at being manhandled, the queen replied through clenched teeth, “Leave me! Go to your shamed one. I will prepare a test for you. If you pass, I will withdraw my warriors from the conflict. I’m not sure I want to fight for Waylan…I joined Jonar to cleanse the land of petty kings. If you fail my test, I will kill everything that walks or crawls in Waylan’s kingdom. Now get out!”
Wolf left the tent and set out to search for Nala on the outskirts of the settlement. He found her encircled by a dozen Nanna warriors who were jeering and throwing mud and animal excrement at her. Her body was laced with bright welts from their whips, and she was fighting back tears. Oblivious to Wolf approaching, the women suddenly attacked, kicking Nala in the ribs and stomping her hands. She crumpled, making no effort to defend herself. A few of the women stood back, cursing and spitting on the fallen princess.
Wolf’s anger flashed white hot as he ran to Nala’s rescue and pulled the attackers away from her. “Stop!” he shouted with such rage that he surprised himself and brought other warriors running over to see what had upset this giant from another land. “I will warn you all just once—no one is to touch Nala again. The next one of you bitches that harms her will answer to me, and I will break your neck. Do you understand me?”
A husky woman who had been among those kicking Nala drew her knife and pulled a whip from her belt. With a throaty growl, she demanded, “Who are you to interfere? She has been disgraced. She is worthless. No man will take her, except to use her as a whore. We follow the laws and do what is right. If you want it to stop, take her. Here and now.”
“Commander, do it,” Syn ordered in Wolf’s ear.
Nala looked broken and humiliated as she sat in the dirt and dropped her chin, avoiding Wolf’s eyes. She knew he was torn between wanting to help her and being loyal to Syn. He gazed at her and then back at the Nannas, responding, “She will be my woman—after the war. I will not have her hurt or disfigured before my night with her comes. The next one who touches or offends her will answer to me.”
The women laughed raucously, and several drew their knives and whips, advancing on Wolf. Acting as a single entity, they attacked together, slashing at him with unbridled fury, intent on sending him to an early grave. They soon discovered that the frenetic assault was futile. He stood with arms crossed, smirking. They tried every tactic to hack him to death or at least bring him down, kicking, biting, slashing, and thrusting. He let them continue until they withdrew in fatigue. The last warrior to give up backed away with a look of disbelief and hissed, “What the hell are you?”
“I am Wolf. I support King Waylan, and I have come to seek your aid in vanquishing Jonar. Your queen will tel
l you more. Now leave us.”
Wolf turned his back on the women and lifted Nala from the dirt. Bloodied and bruised, she forced a grateful smile and said, “I know I am not your woman, Wolf. You are Syn’s man, and I would never hurt her by taking you to my bed. I will kill myself first if it comes to that.”
“I love that woman so!” Syn gushed. “She is a true friend. Keep her safe, Wolf!”
“I will do what is necessary to save you,” Wolf vowed. “But I never again want to hear you talk about killing yourself, Nala. Now let us go to the lake so you can clean up.” He lifted her small body and carried her through the camp to a pristine, sparkling lake behind Dalla’s tent.
The queen had observed Wolf’s skirmish with her fiercest warriors, and the stranger’s actions confused her. He loved her daughter, that was obvious. He was an amazing warrior; yet, for some reason, he refused to take her. She thought to herself, I may have to hurry this big man along. I want my daughter back and he can restore her honor.
Nala sobbed against Wolf’s shoulder as he carried her to the sandy shore of the lake. He lowered her feet to the ground and tore a cloth from the tatters of his uniform. Wetting it in the crystal clear water, he dabbed Nala’s face, wiping dirt and blood away from her fair skin.
“Nala, listen to me. I like you a lot, and I will possess you. But I am incredibly strong. I don’t want to injure you. I need time to figure some things out. Until then, I want you to stay by my side. I don’t want you hurt. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Wolf. Will you stay while I bathe?” Nala asked. She cast a sidelong glance at a handful of Nanna sisters who had gathered nearby to spy on them.
With a deep sigh, Wolf said, “Yes, Nala, I will stay. But hurry.” He turned his back to give her privacy.
Nala smiled shyly and removed her leathers, stepping into the water. She swam under it, allowing the cold water to clear her head. Her mind swooned with thoughts of Wolf and feelings of desire. She had never met a man like him. He was gentle and kind, yet he could be a terrifying and unbeatable foe on the battlefield.
