Sword Masters

by Selina Rosen

  "All right . . . Now, Tarius, you're drunk, and you're just getting weird," Harris said gently. He tried to sound scolding, but lost the effect because he was laughing.

  "I can't believe you are laughing at my pain!" Tarius said hotly.

  "I'm very sorry, Tarius," Harris said, and made himself stop smiling by biting his bottom lip.

  Elise walked in then. She knelt beside Tarius and looked into her eyes.

  "Is she all right?" Elise asked Harris.

  "She's very drunk, but I don't think she's hurt any worse than she was," Harris said.

  "The Katabull have no tolerance for alcohol. They are the world's cheapest drunks."

  Tarius grabbed Elise by the collar and dragged her close. "I had a woman, you know. A beautiful woman."

  "I'm sure you've had many," Elise said. She looked at Harris and rolled her eyes. Harris smiled.

  "Yes I did. But I only cared for one, and now she hates me." Tarius started to cry, the way only a drunk can.

  "You should not drink," Harris said decisively as he cradled her in his arms.

  "My life was a farce . . . My whole life was a farce, and now I have been found out. My life is worth nothing to me or anyone else. I can't go on without her. I can't. I won't. Toss me into the sea and let me drown."

  "You were doing just fine until you got drunk," Harris reminded her.

  Elise handed Harris a canteen. Harris held it to Tarius's lips and she drank. "Would it help if she changed back?" he asked Elise.

  "I don't think she can change back until the alcohol wears off," Elise said.

  Tarius suddenly pushed Harris away and jumped to her feet. "I feel good now. I must be well." She took three steps, stumbled and fell.

  Harris ran to her side and helped her back up. He started half-carrying, half-dragging her back to her bunk. She was singing some sailing song that made no sense at all. It was a stupid song, and to his dismay Elise started to sing it with her. At least Elise could sing, which was more than you could say for Tarius.

  "Oh! And up went her pantaloons, right up the mast. Down came the captain, fell flat on his ass! Dancing on the kegs of ale without any pants!"

  Harris poured her into her bed where she promptly passed out. Then he looked at Elise and laughed. "So now I know two things that Tarius isn't good at. Drinking and singing."

  "I'm assuming since she was talking about a woman that you and she aren't lovers?" Elise asked.

  Harris laughed. "Hell, till a few weeks ago I thought she was a man, too. I love Tarius, but not like that. She's my family, my brother, ah I mean sister."

  Elise moved closer to him, then she jumped on him, wrestled him to the ground and started kissing him. Before he knew what was happening, she had most of his clothes off.

  Harris decided he could love this girl.

  * * *

  Persius looked down from his throne at Darian. He had sent for Darian upon hearing the news, but still didn't want to hear what he knew the man was going to say.

  "So Darian . . . tell me what happened."

  "I can't be certain, Sire," Darian started.

  "Then tell me what you think happened!" Persius demanded impatiently.

  "When I got up this morning I found Tragon dead, lying in a pool of his own blood, and my daughter was gone. A horse was stolen from the stable, and there was a trail of blood leading from my house to the stables. No doubt where the sword had dripped. Have they . . . have they found Tarius's body yet?"

  "No, why do you ask?" Persius didn't really want to hear the answer. No doubt Darian had come to the same conclusion he had.

  "Sire . . . Tragon was killed with Tarius's signature cut—a plunge up at an angle under the rib cage into the heart and a twist for good measure. Now it's true that she has taught that move to Harris, who's still missing, and to Tragon, who now lies dead . . . I think, Sire, that Harris somehow found Tarius and nursed her back to health. And then Tarius came back, killed Tragon, and took my daughter."

  Persius nodded. It did seem to be the obvious piece to complete the puzzle. He took a deep breath. "So. It must be true. Who beside Tarius would have reason to both kill Tragon and take your daughter?" Persius lowered his voice. He leaned closer to Darian, and it was then that Darian noticed the king's haggard appearance. He hadn't had much sleep if any in days, and it was obvious. "She'll come for me. She said she'd get Tragon, and she did. She'll come for me as well. I will double my guards . . . No, triple them."

  "Not a bad idea, Sire."

  "If it's any consolation, Darian, she won't hurt your daughter," the king said.

  Darian nodded. He knew that. He also knew the truth. It pained him to lie to his king, but this way Jena could come home if she wanted to . . . someday.

  * * *

  They had stayed camped where they were for a week, and Jena was improving daily. At least she was getting better physically; emotionally she was a wreck. Nothing seemed clear to her. Her thoughts were cluttered and made little if any sense.

  One minute she'd be gloating over having killed her enemy, Tragon. The next she'd be crying over having taken the life of her child's father. One instant she was absolving Tragon for his misdeeds because he hadn't meant to kill the baby, saying his only real crime had been loving her. The very next she was damning him to some eternal anguish for having destroyed her world, and for having killed her child.

  Her thoughts about Tarius were just as jumbled. She'd sit and very carefully make excuses for everything Tarius had done. Then just as quickly she'd argue away all the excuses.

  It had all happened too fast, and it was too hard to comprehend. Tragon had loved her, or at least he'd loved her by his definition of the word, and yet she had hated him. Tarius loved her, and she loved Tarius, but Tarius was a woman and a Katabull, and she had put into Jena's bed the one man on earth that Jena had truly hated.

  One minute she was sure that Tarius was all she wanted in the world, and that all she wanted was to go and find her, to be with her and to see if they could make a life together. The next she wanted nothing to do with Tarius. Tarius was a beast, a woman, and a liar who had used her only to further her position in the kingdom. She was the ultimate disguise that helped Tarius masquerade as a man.

  She cried openly several times a day. There was a hollow spot in her womb where her baby had been and a hollow spot in her heart where Tarius had been. She wanted to turn back the clock. Turn it back to a time somewhere before she had started practically demanding that Tarius give her something that Tarius could not. Then maybe she'd have never known. Ignorance had truly been bliss.

  Yet try as she might she couldn't wish Tarius completely away, return to a time before she knew Tarius, and she supposed that fact told her as much as she needed to know.

  Arvon walked up and sat on the rock beside her. "Copper for your thoughts."

  Jena tried to smile, but didn't quite make it. "Why does everything have to be so complicated, Arvon?" she asked in a quiet voice.

  Arvon managed a smile just for her. "Because that's the nature of life, Jena."

  "My life didn't used to be complicated at all," Jena said.

  "Ah! But you had never been in love. Love changes everything," Arvon said.

  "It should make things better, not worse," Jena said in confusion.

  Arvon laughed. "Now who told you that? Love rarely makes one's life better."

  "But it's not supposed to be like this! Not like what it's done to me, to my life."

  "True." Arvon put an arm around her shoulders. "But try to imagine what it was like for Tarius, Jena. To love someone as desperately as she loved you and to know that in order to keep that person you have to lie about what you are. Do you really believe that she didn't want you to make love to her? She couldn't give into her desires for fear of rejection. What must it be like to know in your heart that the person you love doesn't actually love you, but rather the person you are pretending to be? I won't condone what she did to you, but she never meant to cause you any p
ain. Because she loved you, loved you for exactly who you are, she lost everything. Had she not been with you, she never would have been found out. So as much as this love has cost you, it has cost her even more. For all we know Tarius is dead. By all rights she should be . . . "

  "Don't say that, Arvon. Don't ever say Tarius is dead," Jena said.

  "Then you've definitely decided to go to Kartik—to look for her?" Arvon asked. Over the last week her thoughts on this issue had changed a hundred times.

  "We have to go to Kartik. There is nowhere else for me to run," Jena said thoughtfully. "After that . . . I don't know, Arvon. I just don't know right now. If she is . . . dead . . . then there is no sense in looking for her. If she's not, she may never want to see me again. Even if she does, I'm not sure I ever want to see her again. It's too soon for me to make a decision."

  Arvon nodded. "I understand, but maybe this will help you. Tarius could have gotten out of that cell at any time. She could have escaped that night before the king tried to execute her. She didn't leave because of the king's threat against you."

  "How could she have escaped? I know that the Katabull are very strong, but surely not strong enough to break chains of the caliber that held her that night. Then there were the bars, and . . ."

  "She could have gotten away, because I offered to help her," Arvon said.

  "Arvon, what could one man do against the palace guard?" Jena asked.

  "One man, nothing," Arvon said. "But I'm not a man, I am the Katabull."

  Jena was a little taken aback, but didn't seem frightened by his revelation.

  Arvon continued. "Once Harris, Dustan and I had freed Tarius, the four of us could have very easily escaped, but Tarius wouldn't even consider escape because of you. It may not be what you wanted, Jena, but remember this. No one will ever love you like that again. No one else will ever love you the way Tarius did."

  Jena nodded. "I know that, Arvon. And I don't truly believe that I will ever love anyone the way I loved her. That's what confuses the crap out of me."

  Arvon stood and took her hand, helping her to her feet. "Come on, we need to get on the road. I saw signs of people not far from camp. Might be a farmer or trapper, but we can't risk any chance that it might be the king's men."

  Jena nodded and followed him. When they got back to the camp, the fire had been doused, everything was packed, and Dustan was waiting holding the saddled horses. Arvon helped Jena onto the smaller horse. Then he mounted the larger and helped Dustan up behind him. Dustan held on tightly and smiled at Jena, obviously happy with the arrangement.

  Jena smiled back. It was the first real smile she'd managed in days, and she realized that simply making a decision was lifting the dark cloud from her mind, and the physical action of traveling was only going to help more. Life wasn't stalled any more. It went on, and now that they were moving, her mind began to fill with all that could happen ahead. Even the worst thing she could imagine wasn't as bad as anything that had already happened. Suddenly she was filled with relief. The worst had happened, and she had lived through it.

  Everything from now on should be easy in comparison.

  Chapter 15

  When they pulled into port, Tarius was once again running a high fever and seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. Changing into the Katabull had made the effects of the wound worse. The crew helped Harris make a litter to pull behind Tarius's horse, because it was pretty obvious that she couldn't ride. The quicker he could get her to the Springs of Montero, the better. Thank the gods it was only a day's ride away.

  Harris looked back at Elise standing on the bow of the ship. He hated to leave her, but she was a sailor, and he had to get Tarius some help or she was going to die. Still, he hoped he would be able to link up with her again some day. He waved to her and then turned to go.

  Tarius's horse was pulling the litter, and Harris had it on a lead that was loosely wrapped around the pommel of his saddle, thus freeing his hands for battle. He arranged this automatically, and when he thought about it he grinned wryly at how much the timid little crippled boy had changed. He patted the parchment in his belt to be sure it was still there. The captain had drawn him a map through town and to the springs, and he was going to need it because the country he faced was like nothing in his experience.

  Harris took a good look at the city before him; he saw no end to it, and yet there was nothing ugly or sterile about it. Kartik was everything that Tarius had said it would be. The buildings, streets and walls of the city were made of bricks and rocks instead of wood like most Jethrik villages. The people wore little clothing, but what they wore was bright and cheerful. It looked like everyone carried a weapon of some kind, and they all seemed to be smiling. People stared at him openly, they weren't even trying to hide their interest. He knew exactly why, and it had nothing to do with his crippled foot. There simply wasn't another blond-headed, fair-skinned person in sight.

  As he rode, Harris saw that there were beautiful plants and flowers everywhere, and the air was heavy with the scent of them. Harris decided at once that he much preferred this perfume to the stench of horse shit, human waste, and garbage that hung over most Jethrik cities. The streets were amazingly clean, as were the shops he passed. He saw one shopkeeper cleaning up a pile of horseshit in front of his store. So, this must be how they kept the streets clean. No doubt some ordinance forcing shop keepers and house owners to clean the streets in front of their dwellings.

  Suddenly there was a tug on his pants leg. Startled, he reined his horse in with one hand, drew his sword with the other and stopped. When he looked down, he saw Elise looking up at him, out of breath. She had a bag on her shoulder.

  "I want to go with you," she said eagerly.

  "Elise . . . We don't even have any money . . . We couldn't even pay all our passage fare, so when we do make money it won't be ours. We have no food or supplies, and Tarius is very sick," Harris said.

  "Do all your people talk so much? I paid the rest of your fare with my earnings from this shipment. I bought enough food for a few days, and I want to go with you. There is much I can learn from Tarius, and I think I love you."

  "But . . . I want you to go, too, but I can't promise you anything. It's crazy . . ."

  "Harris!" It was Tarius who spoke, and her voice was so weak he had to lean over precariously to hear her. "We aren't Jethrik women; we don't expect men to take care of us. She wants to be your partner, not your possession. Shut up and help her onto your horse. I'm not getting any better down here eating dust and horse shit."

  Harris looked at Elise and smiled. "Are you sure?"

  For answer she held up her hand. He took it, and she practically jumped on the horse behind him.

  * * *

  Arvon counted the money that lay on the inn table between them for the fourth time. "The only way we can manage our passage is if we sell the horses. That way we'll have that money to add to this, and we won't have to pay for the horses' passage, which is more than our own." He looked at Dustan when he said it. Arvon wasn't really attached to the horse he was riding. Since his own horse had been killed in the war by an arrow, he hadn't bothered to get attached to this one. Dustan, however, was very attached to his.

  "Can we afford to keep Jackson?" Dustan asked. "If we stretch it, can we?"

  "I'm sorry, Dustan. I've counted and recounted, and even if we get the lowest fares imaginable, we won't have enough. We have to sell both horses. I'm very sorry," Arvon said taking his hand.

  Dustan nodded, resolved. There was a tear in his eye when he said, "Can we at least try to sell him to someone who will appreciate him?"

  Arvon nodded.

  "I'm so sorry, Dustan," Jena said putting a hand on his shoulder. "This is all my fault."

  Dustan looked at her. "Jena, you lost your mate and your child, and you have lived. It's just a horse. I will try to find a good buyer for both horses."

  Arvon nodded. He knew Dustan needed to do this on his own.

  Dustan got up
and started to question people around the inn. Soon he started talking to an older man at the end of the bar. They talked for a good long time, then they got up and started out of the inn. He nodded his head at Arvon and Jena as he walked outside with the man. Half an hour passed, and Arvon was about to go check on him when Dustan walked in carrying the saddles and tack. He set it by the door and headed towards them. He'd obviously been crying, but he forced a smile and sat down at the table. He dropped a bag of coins in front of Arvon.

  "It took some talking, but he finally gave me what I asked for. Seventy-five silvers," Dustan said.

  "Very good." Arvon leaned across the table and kissed Dustan on the cheek. Seventy-five silvers was a damn good price for two war-trained horses; there hadn't been any haggling. Dustan had spent the time in some alley crying about his horse so that he could present a brave face. Arvon knew this, and loved him all the more for it.

  They got up and started to leave when two big, dirty, toothless men moved to block the exit. "Look at these three, Gordo," the bigger, dirtier one said. "They look like Jethriks, but they act like Kartiks. Men kissing men in public, a woman with a sword."

  "We don't want any trouble," Arvon said.

  "Well, that will cost them now, won't it, Gordo?"

  "Yup, yup, shur will." The other one was obviously a total idiot.

  Before Arvon had a chance to try to reason with them, Jena had pulled her sword.

  "You want trouble?" Jena asked in a very quiet, very ugly tone. "We'll give you trouble, but you'll get none of our money."

  Arvon slapped his palm to his forehead and drew his sword. Dustan drew his steel as well. The two men that barred their way drew there swords, and the other customers moved to a safe distance and turned to watch. It was pretty obvious that no one was going to try and stop them.

  "Like I said," Arvon said coolly. "We don't want any trouble."

  "Then hand over the money," the big greasy one demanded.

  Arvon kept hoping that management would step in to deal with this injustice, but of course this was a seaport town, where Kartiks, barbarians, and every other people except Amalites were allowed to trade. The law meant nothing here.