by Selina Rosen
Suddenly Tarius was on his feet, and the chair he had been sitting in was unceremoniously thrown to the floor. Steel crashed above Persius head, and he looked up just in time to see Tarius's blade pressed hard against a blade which would have crushed Persius' skull.
Tarius pushed the attacker off his blade and then pushed his blade forward hard to catch the attacker in his side. This seemed to do nothing but anger the attacker who slung his blade into Tarius. Tarius countered, but not before the blade had hit.
The attack had caught Tarius off guard. She hadn't expected an attack, much less that they could sneak one past the king's two guards standing just a few feet behind him. She wouldn't make another mistake, and she wouldn't play games. She brought her blade up and blocked the blow coming for her head, spinning his blade. She used the momentum to carry her blade to the man's chest. She jabbed upwards just under the solar plexus, plunged up into the man's heart, then twisted leaving nothing to chance. Tarius threw the man off her blade, and he fell to the floor, convulsing for a few minutes before he died.
"What treachery is this?" Persius demanded getting to his feet. He stared at Jero. "Explain yourself."
"He was the brother of my champion. He must have been upset. I assure you he acted on his own," Jero said quickly.
"This man is a liar," Tarius whispered to the king. "He is filled with deceit. There is no honor in him. If he was angry over his brother, why go after you? Why not kill me?"
Persius nodded that he understood what Tarius was saying. "Better a guarded truce than none at all," he whispered to Tarius.
To Jero he said simply, "Let's pray no one else should decide to defend his blood, or I'm afraid there will be none of you left by dawn."
He drew his own sword from its scabbard on his side and held it out towards Tarius. "I know it is not your custom to bow down before any man. Therefore stand erect and let me bestow upon you the honor of being one of my knights." He tapped his sword on both of Tarius's shoulders. "Now go to the infirmary, and my own surgeon will attend to your wound, Sir Tarius."
"Thank you, Sire," Tarius said nodding her head.
Jena took her by one arm and Tragon by the other, and they started to lead her towards the infirmary. A servant was leading the way. "Come on ya mighty bastard," Tragon said only half joking. "It's not enough that you best us all at the sword, but now you have become a knight before any of us have even made Swordmaster."
The surgeon looked at the wound through the pants and rubbed his hands together. "Ah! It's going to need stitching." He sounded damn near giddy about the prospect. As the king's surgeon he most likely didn't really get to treat anything more than the staff's occasional scrapes and burns. "All right, off with your clothes.'
"No," Tarius said plainly. "Stitch it through the hole."
"Young man . . . ." the doctor started.
Tragon cleared his throat. "That's 'Sir'."
The doctor looked more than a little surprised. "Sir, then. You can't expect me to stitch your wound through the hole in your pants!"
"I'm not wearing any under drawers," Tarius explained quickly.
"I'll leave the room," Jena said shyly.
"You may if you want, but I'm not taking my pants off." Tarius was on the verge of panic. She was pretty sure that a doctor was going to notice right off that she didn't have a dick.
"Why ever not?" the doctor asked.
Tarius couldn't think of a lie quickly enough, but thank the Nameless One that Tragon did.
"It's against his religion. He's Kartik, don't you see? A follower of the Nameless God. They don't take off their clothes in front of others, not even their own spouses. They only undress in total darkness. I've been his sword brother for almost two years now, and he doesn't even shower with the rest of us."
"I can't promise to do much of a job through your pants," the doctor said.
"Just do it," Tarius demanded. She could feel the blood running down her leg and filling her boot. It hurt, and she felt weak. If she passed out, there would be no keeping them from undressing her.
He gave her some powder—in spite of the fact she told him she didn't need it—that was supposed to help with the pain, but all it did was make her head fuzzy. She still felt every damn punch with the needle. Jena was standing in front of her, and she seemed to come in and out of focus. That was the last thing she saw—either blood loss or the drugs knocked her cold.
* * *
She woke in the morning with a pain in her head to match the one in her hip, and she promised herself she'd never let them give her any of that powdered crap again. She reached for her sword and grabbed flesh instead.
She opened her eyes carefully. She was clean, dressed in her academy uniform, and Jena was wrapped all around her. Jena's arms were around her waist, Jena's head was resting on her chest, and her own arms were around Jena. Jena stirred, stretched, and looked up at Tarius. She answered the question that was on Tarius's mind in a sleepy, sexy voice.
"Your sword is under the bed."
"How . . ."
"Tragon cleaned and dressed you. He did it in the dark so as not to break your custom. You were pretty out of it with the powders by the time we got you home."
Tarius realized she was in Darian's house no doubt in a guest bedroom.
"You should not be here," Tarius said in a sad, low voice.
"I don't see you letting me go," Jena said.
"All the more reason that you shouldn't be here." Tarius didn't let her go even then. She moved and kissed the top of Jena's head. "You are ruining everything, don't you understand that? I had things all planned out, and you are ruining them. Men would fight for your love why can't you go after one of them and leave me alone?"
"I only want you," Jena said quietly. "And I don't believe that you really want me to leave you alone, or I would, no matter how much I love you."
"But you don't really love me, and I shouldn't love you."
"Don't tell me how I feel, Tarius, and why shouldn't you love me? What's wrong with me?" Jena asked forlornly.
"There is nothing at all wrong with you Jena, you are perfect. It's me, I'm what's wrong. I'm no good for anyone. Steel is all that really matters to me, Jena. Strong metal, limber flesh, and the skill to use them. That is all that I am, and all that I will ever be."
"And all that I will ever be is the woman who loves you," Jena said.
"Dammit, Jena, you don't even know who or what I am. I have secrets, Jena, so many secrets, dark secrets. There are things that you will never know about me. Things that I will never tell you. Will you be happy like that?" Tarius asked angrily. "Happy knowing that I have secrets which would rip you apart? That you will never truly know me?"
"If I am with you, I will be happy." Jena ran a hand down Tarius's cheek. "Nothing else matters to me anymore, Tarius."
"But I will be gone most of the time when my training is finished. There is a war and soon I will be sent there. I may never come back . . ."
"You will always come back, Tarius, and I will always be waiting for you. My heart tells me this."
"If you keep doing things as stupid as crawling into my bed, no other man will have you, and you really will be stuck with me," Tarius scolded.
"I would give my whole self to you this very minute willingly if you would only have me," Jena said unashamed. She moved so that her head was just above Tarius's, and Tarius pulled her down to her in a long, passionate kiss.
She wanted her. Her god help her she wanted this woman. Her hand found its way up Jena's nightdress, and she started to carress her flesh even as her tongue probed Jena's hungry, eager mouth. Reason and logic fled, passion stole her good sense, and in that moment she just forgot how impossible the whole situation was.
Darian stormed in unannounced, took one look at the scene and started screaming at Jena, though why the whole thing was somehow Jena's fault alone Tarius didn't really understand. "Jena, for the gods' own sake! Must you act like a common whore!"
Jena unta
ngled herself from Tarius and jumped from the bed smoothing her clothes as she did so, as if swift movement would somehow make Darian believe he hadn't seen what he had seen. She looked at her feet knowing that it probably wasn't going to work.
Tarius for her part seemed to be temporarily frozen to the bed.
"The man doesn't want you! How many times must he tell you this? How many different ways? Do you think this kind of thing will be kept silent forever? No good man will have you if you keep this up. Why do you think Tarius isn't interested? Only because you throw yourself at his feet; because you act like the lowest harlot at the pub."
He kept going on, and Jena just stared at her feet, looking sadder and more confused by the minute.
Tarius looked at her. Damn I want you! I want you more than my sword. More than a stupid title and more than I want to kill my enemies. I've fooled everyone else. Who's to say I couldn't fool you? You've never been with a man, and I've been with plenty of women. I know I could please you. Everything else I have done—all the other deception has been for everyone else. Why couldn't I do this for me? She loves me; I love her. It could work. I can't stand to hear Darian talk to her like this, not when he's so wrong. Not when it's all my fault.
Tarius jumped to her feet, and almost fell down. Jena caught and held her; she was a strong woman. Maybe strong enough.
"You are wrong, Darian. There is nothing wrong with Jena, and it is not that I don't want her. Only that I do not deserve such a woman as she. She is perfect, and practically anyone would make her a much better husband than I. I am wild and unkempt if left to my own. What you see now is what the academy has made of me, and when my schooling is done I shall return to my old form. The hair will grow back; the leather will go back on. I'll bathe when I please and come and go without cause or warning. But since she seems determined to have me, and since I would have no one—least of all you—defame her, then I will have no choice but to marry her."
My God what have I done?
Apparently Jena was as shocked as she was because it seemed to take her a moment to realize what Tarius had said. When she did, she hugged her so hard she almost sent them both crashing to the floor.
Darian just stood there with his mouth open for a minute. The he laughed out loud. " It had never occurred to me before. Your own mother was a woman of the sword. No doubt Jena does seem a "perfect" woman to you."
"So, what do you say old man?" Tarius asked. "Will you give me your fine daughter for a wife?"
"Yes, Sir Tarius, I will," Darian said beaming with pride.
Chapter 5
"You did what!" Tragon screamed, angry and shocked to his very core.
"You heard me."
They were off in the woods behind the academy.
"Then you are crazier than I thought, Tarius. Crazier than anyone thought. How the hell do you think you're going to pull this one off? Don't you think she's going to notice that you don't have the necessary equipment?"
"I've made love to many women, many times. There are other ways to please women . . ."
"Queer women maybe, but Jena isn't queer. She thinks you're a man for the gods' sake! You know how I feel about her, damn it! How could you do this to me? I'll rat you out, I swear I will. I'll tell her all about you. I'll tell them all about you . . ."
Tarius grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. When Tragon looked down he was looking into the face of the Katabull. "And before they kill me, if they can—which I doubt—I will kill you and take her away to the Kartik with me. That's a promise," Tarius hissed. "I love her, and no one—least of all you—is going to stop me from having her."
"I hate you!" Tragon said with real venom, trying to squirm free of Tarius's grasp. "I feel like you have stolen everything which should have been mine, and you don't even belong here! Not at the academy, not even in our country! I wish I had told as soon as I found out. Then none of this would have happened—not to me and not to Jena."
"Nothing has happened to you except that you weren't ejected from the academy. As for Jena . . . she is not your property or your worry." Tarius put him down, fixing his collar with an expression on her face she knew put fear into the hearts of men. "Try to betray me, Tragon, and I will make damn sure you pay."
The look of fear on his face as he turned away from her rather detracted from the impact of Tragon's silence as he stomped away from her. He was mad, but she knew he wouldn't say anything. Tragon worried about nothing quite as much as he worried about his own neck. And Tragon didn't really love Jena, he wanted her because he was a rich boy of privilege who'd been handed everything he ever wanted, and he didn't like to be told no. At one time Tarius had believed Tragon loved Jena, but now she knew he didn't. If he truly loved Jena, he'd do more than rat Tarius out, he'd kill her in her sleep.
Tarius would kill for Jena, she'd die for her, if this weren't true she'd have walked away from the woman and never taken all the chances she was taking now.
She knew it was crazy. She just didn't seem to be able to stop herself.
After Tarius had hunted and returned to her human form she walked back onto the academy grounds, and Jena met her, immediately wrapping her arm around Tarius's waist. Tarius draped an arm over Jena's shoulders.
"How did he take it?" she asked.
"He'll learn to live with it in time. I imagine if he thought he could take me in a fight he would have hit me."
"Everyone will be coming back tomorrow," Jena said. "Classes start. Father says you have to go back to the barracks and continue your training."
"It's only right . . ."
"But you're a knight now, Tarius! That's better than a Swordmaster. You're not healed yet; how can you be expected to practice?"
"I don't want to be treated differently. Not because I'm going to marry the headmaster's daughter, and not because I'm a knight. I want to finish my training and go to the front with my brothers. I want to help drive back the Amalite horde; hopefully annihilate them completely. Their history is a tapestry of murder and death. They will never stop until either we or they are all dead. We must do more than defend our borders. We must go into their land and burn them out in the same way that they burn us out. We must give back better than we get. Only then will there ever be rest in the world. Only then will there be peace."
"I wish . . . I don't want to be separated from you."
"And when they are utterly destroyed, you won't have to be," Tarius promised.
* * *
Tarius limped into the arena practice sword in hand only four days after having been wounded. Most of the accomplished Swordmasters were on the front, and that left students to train students. Since Tarius was the best one there, Darian had been having her train the new recruits as well as her fellow cadets.
Tragon greeted Tarius in the middle of the circle with a bold hug. Tarius gave him an odd look, and Tragon answered her unasked question.
"I didn't sleep much last night. What I said to you . . . I don't hate you. You're right, she wouldn't have loved me even if you weren't in the picture, and at least this way I don't have to think of some other man dirtying her."
Tarius nodded. "Good. Then we are still allies." Tarius hugged him back then.
Tragon walked off to practice with Justin, and Derek walked into the ring. He had made the cut this time, in a time of war they lowered their standards, but his attitude wasn't much if any improved. He was from one of the rich families of the kingdom, and he really thought that his money should get him special treatment. That just didn't happen at the academy.
"So, golden boy, what happened to your leg?" the red-headed boy asked Tarius.
"He saved the king and was knighted," Darian answered from behind Derek. "So that would make Tarius Sir golden boy to you."
Derek seemed to boil inwardly at the realization that the outland Tarius now held a title.
In their practice fights, Derek tried to use Tarius's limited mobility. He even tried to strike the wounded hip. He became more and more
frustrated as he realized none of his blows were going to connect.
"Do you want me to teach you, or do you just want to keep trying to hurt me?" Tarius asked. This only seemed to make Derek madder, and he tried even harder to hit Tarius. "You waste my time, boy. Give me someone over here who wants to learn."
Another of the first year students walked over, but Derek wasn't done yet. He ran at Tarius in a rage. Tarius sidestepped, and as the boy started to fall on his face Tarius hit him good on the back of his legs.
"See? I told you," Justin said to Darian as they watched the scene. "He's no good." Derek's manner had only confirmed what Justin had always said about him.
Darian noticed that Harris was getting wonderful, vicarious pleasure watching Tarius whip the boy over and over again while hardly working up a sweat. Still, Darian knew there had to be an end to it. Finally, he walked over, stepped in front of Derek, and took the practice blade from the boy's hand easily.
"You were cut the first time you were here because you seemed to have trouble getting along with others. If you do not change your attitude immediately, you will find yourself cut again. Just because you made it to the final cut doesn't mean you get to stay no matter what you do. You act out once more, and you're out of here."
"I'm sorry, Master Darian," Derek said, bowing low. He walked out of the ring, past Harris who stuck his tongue out at him daring him to make a scene.
Darian saw him out of the corner of his eye and shook his head at him. Harris looked crushed. Obviously he had decided that he had the perfect opportunity to torment his tormentor, and Darian had taken it away.
When the class was over Harris and Tarius stayed behind to continue Harris's training.
Darian watched them work from the shadows.
After about thirty minutes they put away the equipment. Harris ran off to do his evening chores, and Tarius started for the courtyard, no doubt to meet his daughter.
Darian stepped out of the shadows, almost but not quite startling Tarius.
