Sword Masters

by Selina Rosen

  Arvon nodded and took her into his arms. He couldn't see her like this and stay mad at her. She couldn't be held accountable for what she had said that night. She needed him, and he had made a promise.

  * * *

  When they had first set sail, Harris had been filled with excitement. Then they had sailed out of the harbor and he realized there was still more to the ocean. He stood and gazed at it in astonishment—there was nothing but blue as far as the eye could see.

  "How . . . how do we know which way to go?" Harris asked Tarius.

  "It's that way," she said pointing. She was sitting on a barrel covered with a blanket fighting yet another fever. She wasn't really in the mood to talk.

  "But how will they know when we're in the middle of it?" Harris asked, too excited to be concerned for the moment with his sick friend.

  "Charts and stars," Tarius answered.

  "Huh?" Harris said.

  Tarius realized she wasn't going to get off the hook that easily, so she started a lengthy explanation about how star maps and charts and compasses worked. She was almost glad when he got seasick, because it meant he left her alone. The Kartik sailors all laughed at him, but when he had been good and sick for several hours they finally brought him their world famous hangover/seasickness remedy. It didn't work right away, and Harris asked one of the sailors to take care of Tarius.

  The woman bathed Tarius's face with a wet rag. "Your fever is very high," she told Tarius.

  Tarius was almost delirious. "I know."

  "Can I look at the wound? I know a little about healing."

  Tarius nodded silently. She didn't remember when they had last changed the dressing. The girl pulled the dressing off and made a face, so Tarius decided it had probably been awhile. She hadn't been coherent enough for long enough to mess with it, and it was only now that she realized she had been remiss in not teaching Harris anything about first aid.

  The woman began cleaning the wound. "Well, there's part of your problem. You didn't take the stitches out and a couple are infected." She took her dagger and gently and skillfully cut the stitches and pulled them.

  "You're pretty good at that," Tarius said.

  "Thanks," she said. "A salt water poultice might be a good idea."

  "There are stitches in the back, too." Tarius leaned forward and the woman removed the stitches and cleaned the wound. Then she put a saltwater poultice on it, wrapping it to Tarius's body.

  "It burns," Tarius said.

  "That's good, means it working. Here . . ." She handed Tarius a canteen. "Drink this."

  Tarius took a long drink. "So, what's your name?"

  "Elise," she said.

  Tarius smiled a sickly smile. "My foster mother's name was Elise. Thank you very much." She handed the canteen back to the woman.

  "What's your name?" Elise asked.

  "Tarius," she answered.

  The girl looked startled. "Tarius, like Tarius the Black?"

  "Aye . . . One and the same," Tarius said.

  "You're a woman? In town we heard stories about you, but they said you were a man," Ellis said. "You are a very great warrior."

  "Thank you," Tarius said.

  Elise stood and yelled out. "Hey everyone! This is Tarius the Black! The savior of the Jethrik is a Kartik woman."

  They all laughed and whooped and hollered, apparently very happy to be in the presence of such a warrior, and thrilled with the irony that a country that didn't allow women to fight in their army had been saved by a woman warrior. They gathered around her and wanted to know which stories they had heard were true.

  She was tired and fevered and the saltwater burned, but as she started to tell the battle stories she forgot even the pain in her chest. In battle none could equal her. She knew it. The only battle she had lost was the battle for her heart. She would become what she was meant to be, a warrior and nothing but a warrior. She would live by the blade and for the blade and think of love no more.

  She would truly become Tarius the Black.

  * * *

  Jena lay in bed and looked at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep. Who was she? What did she really want? Did she still love Tarius? Had part of her known all along that Tarius was a woman? No, but she couldn't convince herself that she hadn't chosen Tarius because "he" looked and acted like a woman. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that was exactly why she had found Tarius so attractive.

  She'd never known her mother's love, maybe she craved a woman's love because of that. Somehow she didn't think that was the answer either though.

  She allowed herself to do something she had consciously blocked from her mind since she had learned that Tarius was a woman. She thought back to the first time that Tarius had made love to her in the open field. She remembered all the times that Tarius had made love to her, trying to recall if she had ever felt repulsed the way she had when Tragon had posed as Tarius. There was no such time. With Tarius she had felt special, cherished, loved. Nothing Tarius had done to her had made her feel anything but pleasure.

  On the other hand, what Tragon had done to her had left her feeling violated. When she'd first learned the truth she had told herself that it was because she knew somewhere in her heart that it wasn't Tarius, but that simply wasn't true. If she'd any idea it wasn't Tarius, she never would have allowed it.

  What does it all mean? That I am queer? That I like girls? Or just that I love Tarius so much that it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not? I don't know! I just don't know if I could make love to her . . . knowing. If I could do to her the things she has done to me.

  If she's even alive. And what if she is? She can't come back here; I would have to go to Kartik and find her, and I can't go anywhere now. I'm getting bigger by the day. Do I pack up an infant and carry him off in the night? Run with him to a foreign land to find a lover I don't even know if I want? All I do know is that I don't want this. I don't want this life with Tragon and my father telling me what to do and who to be.

  A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. She didn't answer the knock; she would pretend to be asleep. The knock came again.

  "Damn it, Jena, let me in!" It was Tragon, and from the sound of his voice he was drunk.

  "Go away and leave me be!" Jena hollered back.

  "No! You're my wife. Mine!" He hit the door hard with his shoulder, and it opened.

  Jena jumped out of bed, grabbed her robe and threw it on. "I demand you leave at once," Jena ordered.

  Tragon laughed. "Jena, Tarius let you get away with that sort of shit because she was a woman. I'm not a woman; I'm a man. I'll take what is mine."

  "I don't belong to you!" Jena screamed. If her father heard the fight, he was ignoring it. Jena silently wished that he would pick now to be on her side.

  Tragon walked up to her, and she backed away.

  "It's time we consummate this marriage. Time that you had a real man," Tragon said.

  Jena snarled back. "I've had you, remember? It wasn't pleasant for me."

  "That's because it was too quick. I didn't have enough time. I could make you feel pleasure like you have never felt before," Tragon said.

  "Did it seem to you, Tragon, that I wasn't sated when you came to me?" Jena asked with venom. "You could never give to me what Tarius gave to me."

  "You bitch!" he hissed.

  He punched her hard in the jaw, then grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her so hard that she landed not on the bed but went over it. She landed on the floor stomach first, and knew before she felt the blood flow between her legs what had happened. She lay there for a second in pain and fear. There was an immediate sense of loss like she had never felt before. Then she looked under the bed and saw the hilt of her sword.

  "Oh my gods! Jena! My gods, the baby! I'll run get the surgeon. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Tragon said.

  Jena stood up from the floor, sword in hand. "You bastard!" she hissed. "First you destroyed my world, and now you have killed my child."

&nb
sp; "No!" Tragon screamed.

  Jena didn't stop to think. She plunged the sword into Tragon's chest under his solar plexus up at an angle and twisted it, just as Tarius had taught her to do. She drew the sword out and waited for him to fall. As he fell, Jena saw her father standing in the doorway.

  "Jena, what have you done?" Darian asked in disbelief.

  "You . . . Where the hell were you when this bastard was taking the last thing I had that mattered to me?" Jena cried. She swung the sword in front of her. "Get the hell out of my way, or I'll kill you, too."

  She ran past him then turned. "Don't come after me. If you ever loved me, give me enough time to get away."

  "Jena," Darian cried. "Let me help you."

  "It's a little late for that now, Father."

  Jena ran out of the house and towards the stable. She was in incredible pain. The cramps in her abdomen were three times as strong as any she'd had with even her worst period. She was still losing blood, and now she was having trouble keeping her feet. She didn't have time to pick and choose, so she grabbed the first horse she found that was saddled and bridled—probably one that was kept ready for a king's herald—and added horse theft to the list of her crimes.

  She raced out of the academy grounds, feeling like all her innards would fall out if she allowed her seat to leave the saddle just a little bit. She knew what it was. It was the baby; it was being born. It was being born dead.

  * * *

  Arvon opened the door and Jena fell on him her, sword clattering to the floor.

  "What the hell!" Dustan asked walking in from the other room.

  "Jena," Arvon carried her over and sat her in a chair. It was then that he saw all the blood. "My gods! What happened?"

  "Tragon killed my baby," Jena cried. "That bastard killed my baby."

  Dustan picked up Jena's sword and showed it to Arvon. Arvon looked at the blood on the blade. "Jena, what did you do?" Arvon asked.

  "He killed my baby, so I killed him," Jena said, her eyes bright.

  "Oh my gods, she's killed her husband," Arvon said. In Jethrik, the penalty for a woman killing her husband was death. According to Jethrik law, there was no just cause for such an act. "Dustan, get the horses ready and pack some gear. We have to leave tonight."

  Dustan nodded and ran outside.

  Arvon knew Jena needed help. She needed a mid-wife, but all she had was Arvon, and the only thing Arvon had ever helped deliver was a lamb.

  It wasn't as hard as he thought. Still, when he'd held that tiny dead thing, it had broken his heart.

  "Do you want to see him?" Arvon asked.

  Jena closed her eyes and shook her head no. "I have enough nightmares in my life now."

  "I'll be back." Arvon took the child and the placenta outside and buried them quickly. Then he went back inside and cleaned Jena up. Finally, he helped her dress in some of Dustan's clothes. Dustan was busy tearing any clothing they wouldn't need into changing rags. Jena was going to need them.

  Slightly more than an hour after Jena's arrival they rode out. Arvon held Jena on the saddle in front of him, trying to ease the jarring. They rode all through the night with Arvon enlisting the help of his Katabull eyes to see. He led Dustan's horse by a rope, and Jena fell asleep against his chest. By morning they were completely exhausted, so they stopped and made camp. They only had one tent, and Arvon put Jena between he and Dustan to help keep her warm.

  "Arvon?" Jena said.

  "Yes, Jena," Arvon answered.

  "I feel so empty inside." Her voice was choked with tears.

  Arvon held her to him and Dustan patted her back.

  "What now?" Dustan asked.

  Arvon shrugged.

  "We go to Kartik," Jena said wiping her face. "If Tarius is still alive, we'll find her."

  "Is that what you want?" Arvon asked.

  "Yes. I have to know once and for all. Besides, where else can we go? I just killed my husband, remember?"

  "I've always wanted to go to Kartik. They say it's beautiful there and always warm," Dustan said.

  Arvon smiled at Dustan over Jena. He could not have asked for a better partner. Dustan had made no promise to Tarius, yet he was willing to pull up his whole life and run off to a foreign country because Arvon was bound to do so.

  "I love you, Dustan," he said.

  Dustan sighed but not without a smile on his face. "I love you, too, Arvon. You know, you might have picked some time when there wasn't a woman between us to tell me."

  Chapter 14

  Tarius was still weak and sick, but feeling better than she had since she'd been shot. The saltwater poultices and having the stitches out had helped. The fact that she hadn't even thought about removing them said just how sick she really was. Tarius was an old hand when it came to wounds. She knew how to dress and take care of them. She'd just been too sick to think straight.

  She stood at the head of the boat looking out at the ocean. It was good to be at sea again. She had been on and off ships all her life. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed just seeing and being close to the ocean until right this second when she was actually well enough to enjoy it.

  Harris had been sick most of the first two days they had been at sea. After that either the Kartik seasickness potion started to kick in, or more likely than not, he was just getting his sea legs.

  At sea there wasn't much to do, so they repaired nets and took turns at watch in the crow's-nest. After that Kartik sailors passed the time wrestling, drinking too much, and having sex.

  They were on the main deck now, wrestling, and Harris had joined them. They had thought they would be able to trick him with Kartik moves he wouldn't know, but he was her protégé, and he knew them all.

  He was wrestling with Elise right now. Tarius smiled. If he were smart, he'd let her win. Tarius had feared at first that Elise had some sort of crush on her because of the way she cared for her, but when Tarius's head had cleared she realized that Elise was just one of those very compassionate people who liked to care for the sick. If she had any interest in Tarius at all it was for what Tarius could teach her about the sword. In fact, with each new day it became more and more obvious that she had taken a shine to young Harris. When he let the girl beat him wrestling, Tarius knew that he had taken a shine to her as well.

  Suddenly she saw something off the port bow. She took a second look.

  "Captain!" she hollered, but her voice was lost in the waves. She limped forward finding the captain at the helm. "Captain, I think I see a ship off the port bow."

  "Jasper! Into the crow's-nest," the captain called out seeing that it was unmanned.

  The young lad scurried up the ropes to the crow's-nest. He took the eyeglass and looked out. "Amalites!" he screamed. "Amalite raiders!"

  For a second there was not a sound. Then the captain started screaming orders. The sailors started rushing around gathering their weapons and loading crossbows.

  The captain looked through his own eyeglass at the ship that was coming on quick. "Damn! There must be fifty of them on a ship that size. I have a crew of fifteen, seventeen men in all counting you and your friend. You are the great warlord. Tell me. How do we stay alive?"

  "Can our ship outrun them?"

  "We're at full sail now," he said.

  Tarius couldn't lie to him. She didn't have the strength to do much more than hold her sword. Harris could take out a bunch of them, and the sailors were all good fighters she was sure. But it wouldn't be nearly enough against a fully manned, fully armed Amalite raiding party.

  "See if their captain or look out has a glass," she said.

  He looked. "Aye . . . both have them."

  "Then I'll change," Tarius said.

  The captain smiled. The sight of the Katabull might just send the Amalites fleeing in the other direction.

  Tarius reached down within herself and tried to call on the night. But she couldn't stay focused, and she couldn't make the change. "Damn this wound! I can't do it on my own. Quick! Bring
me a bottle of rum."

  The captain yelled the order, and in moments there was a bottle of rum in Tarius's hand. She downed half of it quickly, and before she removed the bottle from her lips the change had taken place. She stood up, pulled her sword and standing on the helm she looked at the Amalite ship, beat her chest and swung her sword above her head.

  In seconds the Amalite ship had changed course and was running in the other direction. The sailors all cheered.

  Harris walked up to Tarius as she put away her sword. "What the hell was that?"

  "That was only one of the reasons that the Kartiks think the Katabull are lucky." Tarius stumbled and fell, and Harris caught her.

  "Are you all right, Tarius?" Harris asked.

  "No, I'm quite drunk," Tarius slurred out.

  Harris helped her to the hold and set her down in a chair.

  "It's a good thing they didn't know how sick you are," Harris said speaking of the Amalites.

  "Very good. Do you know what else is good, Harris?" Tarius asked.

  Harris had never seen her drunk before. She was funny. "No, what else is good?"

  "Sex . . . Sex is good. You should bed Elise immediately."

  "Shush," Harris laughed, covering her mouth with his hand. When he thought it was safe, he took his hand off her mouth.

  In a voice she obviously thought was a whisper, Tarius said, "Don't let a prime piece of tail pass you by. Why when I was single, if I smelt it, I had to have it."

  "Now see, Tarius," Harris said making a face, "that was something I didn't need to know."

  Suddenly she became maudlin. "Get it now while you can, because once you fall in love, you'll only want her. Then when she doesn't want you, you won't get it any more. I don't even care about it now. If I can't have Jena, I might as well sew it up like a big wound."