by Selina Rosen
"No more crap!" Jena screamed. She lunged forward, throwing a slicing cut that ripped through the man's throat. She swept sideways and blocked the blow the other man threw at her while Dustan ran him through from the side. Five other men ran up from behind them. Arvon, not yet engaged, turned quickly and kicked out at one, taking out his knee as he sliced through another's arm.
Jena only saw blood, and realized that blood was all she wanted to see. At that moment, each attacker was Tragon. She realized as she sliced through a man's stomach and watched as his entrails fell to the floor that she would never be done killing Tragon.
Arvon laid his blade into the head of one man, slicing all the way into the man's brain, and the two men left uninjured stood back and dropped their swords.
The bartender started to cheer.
"Blood thirsty bastard," Dustan said as he wiped his blade between his fingers to clear it.
"Which one?" Arvon asked, looking meaningfully at Jena.
Arvon moved forward and put a careful hand on Jena's shoulder. "Jena, put your blade away."
"No more crap, Arvon," she whispered in a hiss, surveying the men in front of her blade. "No more crap from anyone."
Arvon looked at the men and smiled. "You heard the woman. No more crap."
The men nodded.
"Jena, honey . . . Put your blade away," Arvon said again.
Jena shook her head, and she didn't take her eyes off the men in the bar.
Arvon grabbed her by her scabbard and started dragging her towards the door. Dustan picked up the saddles and the tack and went out first. Arvon continued dragging Jena out. At the door, she spun around to make sure no one was behind her.
"OK, killer can you put your sword up now?" Arvon asked.
Jena wiped her fingers down her blade and flipped her fingers in the air, slinging blood all over her and Arvon.
"Damn it, Jena," Arvon said, wiping the blood out of his eye. Then he took one of the saddles and one of the packs from Dustan. "What the hell were you thinking back there?"
Jena thought about that only a moment. "That I've had enough crap to last me a lifetime. That I don't want any more crap. They were giving us crap."
"You can't just kill everybody who gives you crap!" Dustan said in disbelief.
"Why not?" Jena asked.
"Because dead bodies tend to get people to asking questions," Arvon answered. "Come on, we'd better get to the ship, and hope that no local magistrate stops us before we can board."
They started walking fast. He cringed when he realized how blood-covered they were. They'd be damned lucky to get to the ship without getting stopped, and luckier still if any ship would take them the way they looked. Three desperate, blood-covered people carrying the bare necessities with packs, saddles, and no horses. They looked like what they were—fugitives on the run.
At the pier they went down to the water and washed the blood from themselves. They couldn't find a translator who would work for anything near what they could afford, and none of them knew the first word of Kartik. The only thing that was clear from talking to the different captains was that none of them wanted to take them as passengers for the amount of money they had.
It was the last ship at the pier. Old and run down, it looked like it was as likely to sink as it was to sail. However, the captain was Jethrik.
"Hail, brothers!" he called from the helm. They went up to meet him eagerly, thinking they had finally found someone who would sell them passage.
"Am I ever glad to see you!" Arvon said.
"How can I help you?" the captain asked, giving Jena the once over and obviously liking what he saw.
"We need to book passage to Kartik," Arvon said. "We have . . ."
"Don't even bother. I'm sorry brother, but we're over-loaded right now, and there is no amount of money that would be worth leaving anything behind."
"But you're our last hope. We have a hundred silvers . . ." Arvon started.
"And one crate will bring me two hundred. Sorry, mate."
The three turned to go. "Only way I'd give anyone passage right now is if they were the Katabull."
Arvon smiled and turned slowly around, changing as he did so. "I am the Katabull."
The captain clapped his hands together happily. "Crew!" he hollered down the deck. "We've got the Katabull! Unload a crate!"
The cheer that answered his shout was heartening.
* * *
It took them one and a half days to get to Montero. Harris was all the more glad to have Elise along, because Tarius got worse. Elise seemed to know how to help Tarius while he had no idea what to do.
When they got to Montero there were no open springs. Spas had been built on top of every one of them, and they charged huge fees to enter. More money than Harris had, and they didn't extend credit.
"Tarius . . . I'm going to have to sell the horses."
"No," Tarius said, coughing up blood.
"Don't be such a hard head . . . Horses will do us no good if you're dead."
"The springs are free," Tarius said.
"Not anymore," Elise said.
"Don't sell my horse," Tarius said.
"Tarius . . . Don't be ridiculous!" Harris screamed, totally frustrated and out of patience.
"Excuse me," a woman said approaching them. She was the owner of one of the spas that had turned them away earlier, so Harris was short with her.
"What do you want?" Harris asked. "To rob us? To trade our horses for a bath? What?"
The woman ignored him. "Did you say Tarius?"
"Yes."
"Is that then Tarius the Black? The Kartik Bastard? The scourge of the Amalites?" the woman asked as she walked closer to the litter.
Harris moved to block her way.
"Well, is it?" she asked, clearly impatient.
"What's it to you?" Harris asked.
"I owe Tarius the Black. See, once she didn't kill me," the woman said.
* * *
Tarius's head fell limply into the bubbling pool in front of her.
"Oh, no you don't, my friend." Jazel grabbed Tarius by the hair at the back of her head and dragged her face out of the water. The wound in Tarius side bubbled freely in the water. Jazel looked up at Harris who stood watching over the whole procedure with Elise by his side. "So, I'm guessing they found out what she was."
Harris nodded.
"And her woman?" Jazel asked.
"In Jethrik," Harris said simply.
"Guess she couldn't handle it, either."
"No," Harris said simply.
Helen ran in then carrying a large stack of towels. "How is she?" Helen asked, not even bothering to pretend like she wasn't checking out Tarius's nude body in the water.
"Damn near dead," Jazel asked. "Passed out and went limp as a rag as soon as I put her into the water."
"I could get in and hold her up. That always helps," Helen said.
"Well, go ahead," Jazel said with a shrug.
Helen quickly stripped and got into the water, splashing Harris and Elise. She went over to Tarius and held her up. Jazel let go of Tarius's head as Helen leaned Tarius back against her chest and held her head on her shoulder.
Jazel stood up rubbing her hands on a towel. "Damnedest thing, fate. About a year and a half ago this woman," she said, pointing at Tarius. " . . . decides against her better judgment to let me live. See, I put a silence spell on the Amalites so they could attack your troops. I didn't want to at all. I hate the Amalites as much as you do, but they had Helen. Anyway, it's a long story, the gist of which is that Tarius—in full animal form—tracks me down, kills all the Amalites, and is about to kill me when Helen begs for my life and Tarius lets me live. But only after making me promise to move to Kartik. So we come here, buy this spa, and now I hold Tarius's life in my hands."
"It's very neat," Helen said from her place in the hot spring.
"Helen has been fantasizing about Tarius ever since. Are you having fun, dear?" Jazel asked in a grating tone.
>
"Actually, yes I am. She seems to be coming around, but the wound is bad," Helen said.
"I mean, she's all right, I suppose," Jazel addressed Elise. "If you like the big, well-muscled, butch type. But you would think she crapped gold the way Helen goes on and on, and she only saw her that one time. Who wouldn't look good in Katabull form? I've tried every spell I can think of, and she still . . . just on and on and on. She makes up stories about her."
"That's not true, Jazel, " Helen said blushing.
"Oh, it is too . . . Well, there she is in all her splendor. Can't even hold her head up, and twenty pounds underweight. Tell me, do you think she looks any better than I do?" Jazel asked Elise.
"Well, no," Elise said quickly. Last thing she wanted to do was piss off a witch.
"Jazel," Helen giggled. "You're being ridiculous again. You know I love you."
"Yes, but you lust after her," Jazel said.
"Well, I can't help that, now can I?" Helen giggled out.
Tarius's eyes flew open, and she suddenly jerked in the water. "Jena!" she screamed.
Harris knelt by the side of the pool and caught Tarius's eyes. "Tarius . . . You're OK. You're in one of the Springs of Montero."
"The witch," Tarius said, remembering. She turned in the water, jerking away from Helen and looking for Jazel. When she found her, she moved over to the side of the pool where she was. "I had a dream . . . I dreamt that Jena was hurt. What does it mean?"
"What was the nature of the dream?" Jazel asked.
"We were together; we were making love . . ."
"Oh, this should be good," Helen said. Jazel glared at her.
"Everything was fine, but then she started screaming. She jumped out of bed. Her sword was in her hand, and there was blood on the blade. It wasn't her blood, but she was in pain. She cried out for me, but I couldn't reach her."
"That's very interesting," Jazel said.
"What does it mean?" Tarius asked.
Jazel shrugged. "Damned if I know. I'm a witch, not a dream interpreter."
Tarius made an angry sound and dunked her head under the water. When she came up she realized she was seeing clearly for the first time in days.
She looked at Harris and smiled. "I'm going to live," she said with conviction.
Harris smiled back. "I never doubted it for a minute."
* * *
The king woke screaming, and his favorite wife put her arms around him to comfort him.
Two guards ran in the door. The king looked at the one on the right. "Go and get Hellibolt at once," he ordered.
A few minutes later a bedraggled, half awake Hellibolt stumbled into the room. "What do you want now?" he asked.
"A little respect; I am your king," Persius said angrily as he got out of bed.
"I'm wearing clothes," Hellibolt said flippantly. "What else do you want? Now, what's the problem?"
"I dreamt it was here . . . the Katabull. I dreamt that Tarius was here in my bedchamber. That she killed me by cutting me into little pieces, leaving my head for last," Persius said. "What does it mean?"
"Why did you wake me for this, Sire? You know what it is as well as I do, as does anyone who was there that hateful day. It's the curse which Tarius the Black laid on you."
"Don't tell me of curses, old man! No intelligent person believes is such nonsense! Tell what it is. It's a spell, isn't it? Counter it, I command you!"
Hellibolt shook his head and continued quietly. "No, Sire, it is no spell, and there is no counterspell for what ails you. Did she not say that if you did not kill her quickly she would find a way to live? Have we not had word of a Kartik sailor who was overheard saying that Tarius made passage to Kartik? We have never found a body, so I for one believe that this is more than mere gossip. For one thing, when questioned the sailor knew that Tarius was a woman and Katabull, and was damned proud of both facts. So, she has indeed found a way to live. She said further that she would make you die a thousand times, and that you would have neither a decent night's rest nor any peace of mind."
Persius started to interrupt, but Hellibolt held up a silencing hand, drew himself up to an impressive stance and continued. "Sire, all of these things have come to pass. You forget who you are dealing with. This Kartik woman, this female Katabull, is the one who single-handedly brought you victory in the war. She did it because she is cunning, and because she knows people. She knows you, too, Persius. She knows you better than you know yourself. You acted in the heat of the moment. You allowed your anger and your injured pride to cloud your judgment and you therefore attempted to execute a friend simply because her gender had made you look foolish. Which, by the way, was never her intent.
"The Katabull's curse haunts you with your deeds, and your guilt at what you have done drives you from your bed and robs you of rest and peace. You know you deserve to die at her hands. You know she is capable of doing it. And you know that she has managed to live in spite of you. The power behind that curse was that she knew you wouldn't be able to live with what you had done. She knew you would punish yourself a hundred times better than she ever could.
"Persius . . . the Katabull will never come after your physical person. Don't you understand? Killing you would be too easy. This . . ." he gestured toward the king, drawing attention to his haggard, sleepless condition. "This is what she wants. For you to have to live with her blood on your hands. To live in fear of her vengeance till the day you die. She has won, Persius. She has won, and she isn't even here."
* * *
The voyage was horrible. Jena managed to make it with the help of some Kartik tonic, but poor Dustan seemed to throw up all through the entire four-day passage.
The captain helped them learn a little Kartik, but the price of the lessons was that he kept chasing Jena around like a bull in rut. He shipped out with a full Kartik crew, and he kept a home in the Kartik. This was as close as he had been to any Jethrik woman in years, and certainly he hadn't seen any as beautiful as Jena. At least he didn't press the issue. Every one of the hundred times she said no he backed down immediately, shrugged and said, "You can't blame a man for trying."
Arvon walked up beside her. Way in the distance they could see land.
"Soon," Jena said to him.
"Not soon enough for poor Dustan," Arvon said.
"The captain's looking at me again, isn't he?" Jena asked.
Arvon nodded.
"I swear, I can feel his eyes on me."
"He's a nice fellow," Arvon said. "Not a brutish sort of man at all. He really seems to like you. You do well at sea, he makes a decent living, he owns his own ship, and he's very handsome."
"What are you getting at?" Jena asked suspiciously.
"Only that any normal woman would be happy to have him as a suitor."
"I prefer the dark Kartik men like that one over there," Jena said pointing.
Arvon laughed heartily.
"What's so damn funny?"
"Jena . . . That's a woman," Arvon said.
Jena looked closely. "Oh! So it is." She laughed at herself then. "They're Kartik. There just really isn't all that much difference," she said with a shrug.
"So you still haven't decided?" Arvon said.
"It's not really a decision, is it, Arvon? I mean, I know what I want. I want Tarius. But I don't know if I can live with the kind of crap you and Dustan live with."
"Oh that's right. Your new motto. No more crap!" Arvon said with a smile.
"That's right. Anyway, it's all immaterial if Tarius is dead . . . I must be getting better; I can say it now—even think it without crying."
Chapter 16
Two weeks had passed, and Tarius was starting to feel like her old self. Helen and Jazel had treated her well, given her the right herbs and powders and diet, and the baths had soaked all the poison out of her system.
"Just do it!" Jazel pleaded.
Tarius laughed, splashing Jazel with water. "No, I will not. It's insane."
"Come on! My life's a l
iving hell, and it's only going to get worse now that she's actually spent time with you. Just do her, and do a really horrible job. Then she won't lust after you anymore," Jazel pleaded.
"You're sick, Jazel," Tarius said. "It's just a game she plays with you to make you jealous. She doesn't want anyone but you."
"See now, big, worldly, sword-wielding woman, that is where you would be wrong. She loves me, and I love her, but that doesn't mean that we don't occasionally lust after other people. I would just as soon she bed you and get it over with, but if you're better than me, then it will only make things worse. So all I'm asking is that you do a really rotten job."
"Sorry," Tarius said with a shrug.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" Jazel asked.
"Work harder at it, I guess." Tarius stepped out of the pool and started to dry herself.
"Can't get her out of your mind, can you?" Jazel asked carefully.
Tarius shook her head sadly.
"And I know just the thing to take your mind off of it . . ."
Tarius gave her a look that burned into her.
"Or not."
Tarius put a robe on and walked out of the building the hot spring was in and into the courtyard that was between the bath and the main house. Jazel and Helen's spa was no more than a fenced in area with a shack built over the top of the hot spring and a house that had grown as they needed the rooms. They had five people staying at the spa, which meant all their rooms were full. Tarius, Harris and Elise had been sleeping on pallets on the floor in the dining room.
Some people came in just to bathe. Some people also came in for potions, herbs, powders, spells or readings.
The courtyard was usually filled with people going to or coming out of the baths, but it was early morning, and the courtyard was empty. It was filled with the heady scents of flowers, reminding Tarius of her childhood. She had spent days out here in the sun, relaxing, healing, and sewing a new cloth over the Jethrik kingdom colors on her gambeson. She covered the blue and white with Kartik colors of the brightest reds, greens, blues and yellows she could find. Her hair had grown almost to her collar, and she would let it go. She would be a woman again. She would be Katabull again. She would be Kartik again. She would embrace all that she was, immerse herself in her purpose, and forget about Jena.
