Sword Masters

by Selina Rosen

  "Is that true?" Tarius asked the first man.

  "Well, yes, but she is of age," he said.

  "Where is the woman?"

  "Here, Great Leader." The girl stepped forward.

  "Did he make you a promise he didn't keep?" Tarius asked her.

  "He made her no promises at all! That's my point," the father said.

  "I asked her," Tarius said.

  "He made no promises," she said.

  "Did you want to make love with him, or did he coerce you?" Tarius asked.

  "I wanted to."

  "Was any commitment made because of it?" she asked.

  "No."

  "You! Give the man his chickens back. He has committed no crime against your family and should not be forced to pay restitution," Tarius said. Then turning to both the young man and the young woman said, "Both of you, either be more responsible with your couplings or do not involve your families. There is no crime against sex with consenting parties, however remember that we as a people do not condone promiscuity."

  Darian nodded approvingly and said in a surprised voice. "She's very good at this!"

  "Don't sound so surprised. Running a village isn't a whole lot different than running a war camp, and she did a damn fine job of that didn't she? I mean for a girl, of course."

  Darian made a face when he realized Arvon was making fun of him, and Arvon laughed.

  "She's very fair," Darian said.

  Arvon's features turned dark. "Tarius was always fair. It was everyone else who treated her unfairly. Admit it, Darian. Tarius is as good as any man at everything, including being a mate to your daughter."

  * * *

  The Amalites were never a very bright people. If they had been, they wouldn't have bought into a religion that promised so many things it could only deliver after a person was dead. They proved their stupidity now. They didn't know what was happening to their raiding ships, so they kept sending out more raiding ships to find out what had happened to the others—only to have them disappear as well.

  The Katabull/Kartik navy was rapidly becoming a force to be reckoned with, and it didn't hurt that the Amalites were completely clueless. They could not conceive of an alliance with the Katabull, so they assumed all other humans were just as narrowsminded. Soon the new naval force had captured twenty-five Amalite ships. The next step was to re-work all the captured ships and turn them into a Kartik armada that no force on the planet would be able to stand against.

  Six ships scoured the ocean, tricking and capturing yet more Amalite ships while some of the others were being refitted. Those that were ready simply stood down, waiting for the time that would soon be at hand.

  Hestia summoned Tarius and the Marching Night to the castle. A great feast was laid before them, and as had become their custom they discussed business during the festivities.

  Tarius leaned towards Hestia. "The time has come to strike their harbors and strike them hard." Tarius had made a rough map of the known world with gravy and bowls on the tablecloth. She pointed to the bowls on her "map." "They have ports here, here, here, here and here. We split our armada into five fleets, the largest one hitting Armond here, because it is the biggest port and well-fortified against attack. This is where myself and the Marching Night will strike. I will put ten Katabull onto each of the other ships in the Armada. We will strike them all at an agreed upon time on the same day. Most of their troops are busy fighting on the Jethrik front here, so the harbor towns will be under-manned, and there will be no chance of reinforcements. We must utterly destroy their ability to go to sea. But, Hestia, we must not stop there."

  "What do you mean?" Hestia asked, curiously.

  "Hestia, I do not believe you to be as short-sighted as Persius," Tarius said. She pointed to a spot on the "map". "See this spot? This is the spot on which the Jethrik almost lost the war. The Valley of the Arrow, so called because it was there that I caught an arrow in my hand that was fated to kill Persius, King of the Jethrik."

  "Every one knows that, honey," Jena said, looking around her at Hestia and making a face. Hestia smiled, and Tarius turned to see what Jena was doing. Naturally, Jena was doing nothing when Tarius looked, so Jena looked at Tarius innocently and shrugged.

  Tarius turned back to Hestia, for the moment ignoring Jena. "It was here that I warned Persius about the Amalites, and he did not listen. Listen to me now, Hestia, if you have never heard my council before. Do not have us stop at the Amalite coast. The Amalites will never stop. They will never learn. They believe their gods command them to smite the unbelievers and they will never rest till everyone in the world worships as they do or we are all dead. So if we only pound them back, they will regroup, rebuild, grow and come after us again."

  "So we will keep an armed armada in the harbors and make sure that they do not," Hestia said.

  "We can't watch every inch of shore, nor can we keep them from buying or taking ships from others. They are obsessed with killing us, and will do whatever their priests tell them their gods ordered them to do. You haven't fought them face-to-face; I have, many times. When you see the hate and fear in their eyes, you know how evil are their beliefs and how relentless. Look at the Jethriks if you don't believe me. Twice they have had to push the Amalites back behind their borders, and now they have to do it again. Not once have the Jethriks moved to attack the Amalites. For that matter, neither have we. Yet despite the fact that they have over twice the land that the Jethrik has, and over five times what we possess, they will not stop attacking. I tell you they never will unless we utterly obliterate every fighting man and priest in their country. Let their civilian population live. Perhaps there is hope that without their leaders they will turn from this evil religion. But I implore you, Hestia, let us not stop at the shore. Let us press inward. Let each group of us leave waste the harbor towns and then run along the coast, meeting up here. Then let us crush the remaining Amalite army between our forces and that of Persius, King of the Jethrik."

  "You would help Persius and his people after all that they have done to you?" Hestia asked in disbelief.

  "I would use them to help us crush our only real enemies—the Amalites," Tarius said. "The Jethrik people have stupid, short-sighted rules and traditions, especially where it concerns women and the Katabull, but they are not an evil people. If we do not help them, the Amalites will over-run them, and then the barbarian kings and their countries will also fall. Then there will be no way that the Kartik can keep them at bay. Only if we help the Jethriks crush the Amalites shall we be utterly rid of them."

  Hestia was thoughtful for a moment. When she spoke again it was with purpose. "And when we have crushed them utterly, then let the Jethriks take half of their land, and we will take the other half. We will both agree not to allow the Amalite religion to exist. We will destroy every temple, every sacred vessel, every religious text, and we will kill every priest. Then they will never be able to rise up and smite the world again," Hestia said.

  Tarius looked at Hestia in delight. "You are brilliant, Hestia! Such a course could rid us of the Amalite menece forever!"

  "We will give our people incentives to inhabit the land . . . " Hestia was on a roll.

  By the end of the feast every one of their followers was drunk and in a festive mood, and Hestia and Tarius had conceived and carefully planned out the fall and total destruction of the Amalite Empire.

  Hestia looked at Tarius. "So, will you let me ride with the Marching Night and help you command the army, or would you rather I took one of the other units in?"

  "You will ride with us, and together we will make history," Tarius said.

  * * *

  It took time to load the boats, to prepare for the battle, and to gather enough supplies to feed, arm and care for an army of this size for an unknown length of time. They used the time to prepare themselves mentally and physically for the war ahead. They also used it to relax and be with their loved ones. Everyone knew there was a good chance that many of them would never see th
e Kartik again. They would all go, and they would all fight, and none doubted that they would crush the Amalites. However they knew that many of them would die in a foreign country without ever again seeing their mates, their children, or the land they were fighting for.

  Tarius and Jena sat together on the Katabull throne watching Radkin play with two of her four children. She had borne two, and her mate had borne two. Rimmy was Radkin's children's father, and Radkin's mate, Irvana, had her children with Tweed, Rimmy's mate. Of the children's four parents, only Irvana was not going with them. These children could lose three parents in this war. These thoughts and more of the same were running through Tarius's head as she watched them play.

  I ask people to go with me. To take up swords and go and fight a war that could conceivably get us all killed. Many of them will die. Children will lose parents, lovers will lose partners, parents will lose children, and there will be no homes among the Katabull where there will not be mourning. As a people we are just now starting to recover from the last slaughter. There are fewer of us than there are of any other people in the world. Yet a bigger part of our population is going than that of the Kartiks, or even the Jethriks. I will either lead my people to extinction, or at last make sure that we will be safe in the world. I have made the decision already; it is too late to pull back now. All I can do now is pray I've made the right decision for us all.

  "What are you thinking?" Jena asked, leaning her head on Tarius's shoulder.

  "That many of us will die," Tarius said morosely.

  "Well that's very cheerful. Don't think like that, Tarius," Jena said.

  "I must," Tarius said. "I must realize what I am asking my people to do, and I must realize that because they follow me many of them will die. I will lead all of them into battle, but some of them I will lead to their deaths."

  "They go willingly, Tarius. You have forced no one to go, and you can't hold yourself responsible for every person who dies in this war. In war people die, you told me that, and everyone knows that. We do what has to be done," Jena said.

  "I want you to stay here," Tarius said. "I don't want you with us at the front."

  Jena laughed. "In other words, you're feeling guilty because everyone else is sending their loved ones into war, and you want to leave yours here where it's safe. Well, you can quit worrying, my love, because I am going. I wouldn't think of asking you to stay; you shouldn't think of asking me."

  "Jena a battle—a skirmish—is not like a war," Tarius said. "You have never seen what happens when war is waged in the middle of a civilian population. We will be forced to attack whole villages in our first wave, and there will be civilian casualties. Men, women and children who had nothing to do with the Amalite war effort will be just as dead as the men carrying pikes and spears. Some of them, through no fault of their own, will catch stray arrows or run between two swordsmen while trying to flee. Others will decide to help defend their country, they'll grab sticks, pitchforks, or kitchen knives, and they can kill you as dead as any fighter. You don't have time to see whether they mean you harm or not; if they get close, you have to kill them. You may realize when you are pulling your sword free that you have just killed a man doing nothing more dangerous than trying to carry a child to safety. There will be rivers of blood and more bodies than you have ever seen. You will trample the bodies of your comrades beneath your horse's hooves or be as dead as they are. There is a stench to war. Rotting flesh, shit, vomit, entrails, and flies so thick you breathe them up your nose if you're not careful," Tarius told her. "That is my life, but it doesn't have to be yours. I don't want it to be yours."

  Jena jumped up and stood in front of Tarius, glaring down at her. "Your life is my life. I will not say goodbye to you on the docks and wave as you sail off to war like I did when I was a good little Jethrik wife to Sir Tarius who wasn't yet The Black. I will go with you! I will never again be separated from you, left behind to wonder whether you are alive or dead. I will stab children by mistake, and have my horse trample my friends into the ground and breathe the stench of death and flies up my nose. It's my privilege as your mate to be as miserable as you are, and you'll not take it from me!"

  Tarius laughed, then grabbed Jena by the wrists and pulled her down on her lap. She wrapped her arms tightly around her, resting her chin on Jena's shoulder. "Please, Jena . . . " She kissed the side of Jena's neck, and Jena tried to squirm away from her.

  "Quit it! I'm trying to be mad at you," Jena said, but laughed in spite of herself. She slapped at Tarius's hands. "You really are awful. I swear, you are as bad as a Jethrik man sometimes the way you think you can boss me around."

  The ball rolled into Tarius's legs, and then so did the young boy. He picked up the ball then looked up and realized who he had just run into. He bowed his forehead low, almost touching the ground. "I am sorry, Great Leader."

  "Laz!" Tarius said, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. "What did I tell you?"

  The boy looked confused; he was young—only six—and really didn't remember. He shrugged.

  "I'm still Tarius, Laz," Tarius said with a sigh. "Don't bow to me. I'm no better than you are. Don't bow to anyone. No one is any better than anyone else. 'Leader' is my job, just a job. Part of my job says I have to sit in a big stupid chair and have people call me Great Leader, but you are part of my pack, and I am just Tarius to you."

  "Yes, Great Leader," Laz said.

  Tarius popped herself in the forehead with her hand. "Just . . . go play."

  Jena laughed. "You should let them call you Great Leader if they want. It makes people feel better to think that someone else is in control of the big decisions. Especially the children. They want to look up to you."

  "Let them look up to their own parents. I am a better fighter, but I'm no braver than any of them. Radkin or Rimmy, either one, would make just as good a 'Great Leader' as I do," Tarius said.

  As if he'd heard his name, Rimmy came running up, stopping just short of running into them. Jena was up, expecting trouble, and Tarius was on her feet as soon as Jena was up.

  "What's wrong?" Tarius asked.

  "It's Elise, the baby's coming," he said out of breath.

  Jena looked at Tarius. "It's too soon."

  "Where are they?" Tarius asked.

  "At the birthing hut," Rimmy said.

  "Send for the witch Jazel. Tell her what is happening. Go at once," Tarius ordered. Rimmy took off running again, and Tarius took off in the direction of the birthing hut, changing into the Katabull as she went, her speed increasing with the change.

  Radkin ran up to Jena. "Jena . . . what's going on?" she asked.

  "Harris and Elise's baby is coming," Jena said.

  "It's too soon," Radkin said. Jena nodded and ran in the same direction Tarius had gone.

  * * *

  Tarius burst through the door of the hut and was glad to see that besides the head birth attendant there were two others in attendance.

  Tarius walked up and put a hand on Harris's shoulder, and Harris looked up at her with a terror in his eyes that he had never known in battle.

  Elise was obviously in pain.

  "Can you stop the pains?" Tarius asked the head birth attendant. "Keep her from having it yet?"

  "We tried," he said, "but her water broke a few minutes ago, and the baby is coming."

  Elise just cried. Tarius looked at her. "Nothing will happen to your baby, Elise. I won't allow it." Tarius sounded ridiculous, and she knew it, but Elise seemed to calm down immediately.

  Tarius let go of Harris and pulled the attendant to the side. "Is it too early? Can the child live?"

  "It is rare, Great Leader, but not unheard of. If the baby is breathing when it is born, it may live."

  "I sent for the witch Jazel, but it will take her most of a day to get here," Tarius said.

  "We will do everything we can," he said. Tarius nodded.

  "It's my fault!" Harris screamed suddenly. "The child is deformed like me. He's dying because of me!"r />
  To everyone's shock and surprise, Tarius walked over, took Harris by the collar, jerked him to his feet and dragged him from the hut. Outside she looked him straight in the eyes and slapped him hard. "Calm down! The child should be so lucky to be deformed like you. This is not your fault, and it's not Elise's fault. This sort of thing happens, that's all. You have to hold it together for her." Tarius hugged him quickly. "We will do everything we can do, Harris, and what you have to do is be calm and strong."

  Harris nodded, and together they walked back inside.

  Jena got there out of breath. She went to the other side of Elise's bed and took hold of the hand Harris wasn't holding. She said nothing, there was nothing to say. This whole thing reminded her a little too much of her own loss, yet she felt she had to be there for her friends.

  About an hour later the baby was born, blue and not breathing. "I'm sorry," the attendant said with sadness.

  "You give up too easily," Tarius said. With tears streaming down her face she pushed Harris out of the way and took the baby from the attendant. It was still attached to its mother by the throbbing umbilical cord. Tarius scooped the goo from the baby's mouth and nostrils, covered both with her mouth and breathed into him slowly. They all just watched her in awe, thinking her mad. "Get me a blanket." The attendant handed her one. Tarius wrapped the tiny baby in it and continued to do what she had been doing. Except now she also started rubbing the baby's chest with her thumb.

  Elise was screaming and crying in grief, and Harris was trying to comfort her.

  Jena put a gentle hand on Tarius's shoulder. Her tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked. "Tarius . . . the baby is gone. Let it go . . ."

  "I am not crazy!" Tarius screamed. "I have seen Robert do this to wounded men on the front to bring them back." She continued what she was doing.

  The baby made a tiny cry, so low it could hardly be heard, yet everyone in the room was suddenly quiet. Tarius held the baby upside down and slapped his butt. More mucus came from the baby's nose and mouth, and she quickly wiped it away with the blanket. The baby's color was changing from blue to pink as she watched. He was breathing, labored yes, but he was alive. Tarius carefully handed the baby to Elise, who looked at him and smiled through her tears. She still cried, but this time they were tears of relief and joy.