The Questing Game

by James Galloway

  He noticed something about her, something that seemed strange. She was obviously a warrior, but she didn't have a mark anywhere on her. Just that scar on her cheek. Allia had scars, as did he, and Faalken's arms and legs were crisscrossed with them. But her skin was as smooth as a milkmaid's. She looked at him as he studied her form, and her expression didn't change. "You want me to lift my skirt so you can sniff under it?" she asked directly.

  Tarrin flushed. "You don't have any scars," he pointed out.

  "I used to," she replied. "I was a warrior before I answered the call of my Mistress and took up the faith. She allowed me to remove my scars, except for this one," she said, rubbing her jaw with a thumb and a finger.

  "You're a priestess?" he asked in surprise.

  "I'd better be, or fifteen years of devotion was for nothing," she replied.

  "The priests of Karas aren't allowed to carry swords."

  "Then Karas is a fool," she said with a grunt. "My goddess demands that her order be able to fight. A sword is a suitably practical weapon."

  "The priests of Karas learn to fight, but with maces," he told her. "Karas doesn't permit his order to shed the blood of enemies, because they're taught to try to avoid fighting whenever possible."

  "Foolishness," she snorted. "They probably rely on their god and the spells he grants them."

  "I guess. I just remember the stories Faalken's told of them. He's a Knight."

  "My goddess demands her priestesses be self-sufficient," she said. "We have to be able to fight for ourselves. We also have to be able to farm, and to sew, and work leather and build with wood, because our duties to our people often force us to take up tools or a plow. She grants us magic, but we don't use it unless we can't do something any other way. To depend on her magic would make us soft, like those priests of Karas."

  Tarrin couldn't see anything wrong with that philosphy. "Where did you meet Triana?"

  "In Dayisè," she replied. "I came up again to track down my husband, and I met her while waiting for a ship to Suld."

  "Husband? You're married?"

  "If you want to call it that," she snorted. "He ran away on our wedding night. If he wasn't in that damned Tower, I'd--"

  "Koran Dar!" Tarrin exclaimed in surprised.

  "Koran Tal," she said adamantly. "And if he's using his birth name, he's got a lot to answer for," she snarled. "How did you know him?"

  "There's only one Amazon in all of the Tower," he told her.

  "Figures," she sighed. "He's my first husband. He's from a small clan, given to me to marry to cement an alliance between my clan and his. He went through with the wedding, but he vanished not long afterward. He's a weak-willed little coward. Sometimes I wonder why I bother coming up here every few years to try to steal him back."

  "He's no weakling," Tarrin said in defense of the Divine Seat. "Maybe he just doesn't like you."

  "Liking me has nothing to do with fulfilling his obligations," she snapped. "He embarassed me and my family when he took off. He'd only have to see me a few days a tenspan, anyway. If he can't tolerate me that long, then it's his problem."

  Tarrin mulled over her words. "First husband?" he asked curiously. "How many times have you been married?"

  "I have three husbands and four concubines," she said calmly, giving him a cool look. "Amazon society doesn't restrict a woman to just one husband. She can have as many as she can arrange, and all the concubines she can buy."

  That startled him. He'd heard of Arakite men who had more than one wife, but it was the first time he'd ever heard of a society where a woman could have more than one husband. Then again, in Amazar, her home, all men were property. Male children were owned by their mothers, and were sold to other women when they matured. The women controlled the government, served in the armies and navies, and it seemed that they staffed the churches. It was a reversal from strict sexist societies like Draconia, where women were little more than property. In Draconia, women were there to make babies and keep the house clean. It looked that those were the duties of an Amazon man.

  "What's the difference between a husband and a concubine?" he asked.

  "Husbands are noble-born males. Concubines are commoners. All three of my husbands are political marriages. I keep my concubines because I like them." She glanced towards the door. Tarrin's ears picked up when he heard the sounds of Faalken's armor, and Dolanna's voice. "We'll have plenty of time for me to educate you about how a society should be, boy," she said. "It sounds like your Knight just got here, from all the clanking."

  "You have good ears."

  "If you don't pay attention, it makes it easy for someone to stick a dagger in your back," she said in her husky voice.

  She was a warrior, all right. Or had once been one.

  Dolanna, Faalken, and Dar all three took their turns staring at the Amazon when they entered the dining room. Allia came in behind them, but Camara Tal seemed oblivious to Dolanna's searching look, Faalken's lingering appreciation of her beauty, or Dar's fearful gawk at her. "Uh, Dolanna, this is Camara Tal," Tarrin introduced.

  "My goddess sent me here," Camara Tal announced in her husky voice. "I'm here to protect him, and help you as I can," she concluded, pointing at Tarrin.

  "Forgive my suspicion, but how are we to know this to be true?" Dolanna asked.

  "She's for real, Dolanna," Tarrin told her. "The Goddess told me to accept her, and she knows enough that even if I wasn't warned, I'd still have to accept her."

  "Another visitation?" the Sorceress asked, and Tarrin nodded. "Very well then, I guess we have no choice. I will not go against the will of my Goddess."

  "Spoken like a true believer," Camara Tal said approvingly. "Boy, if you don't stop staring at me, I'm going to give you a reason to look the other way," Camara Tal warned Dar, who was still gawking at her.

  "Dar's not used to seeing a human woman in such interesting clothes," Faalken said with a sly grin.

  "I see men are a universal constant," she said gratingly. "Do you want to play at trying to catch a glimpse, or should we get it overwith now and lift my skirt?" she asked, reaching down and grabbing the hem of her skirt meaningfully.

  "Ah, no," Faalken said lightly. "I prefer it when it's a challenge. Free looks are cheap looks."

  If she took offense, she didn't show it. She just let go of her skirt and crossed her arms beneath her breasts again. "If I minded men looking, I wouldn't wear these clothes, but I hate it when people stare at me," she warned. "Just get over it."

  "Yes ma'am," Faalken said impudently.

  "Faalken," Dolanna said calmly. "I think we will welcome your aid, Amazon," she told the woman. "Our number has been reduced, and another sword will be helpful."

  "That's why I'm here," she said easily. "When do we leave?"

  "With Triana's blessing, we will be leaving tomorrow afternoon," she replied. "A ship carrying a carnival will be taking us to Dala Yar Arak. They are our cover to allow Tarrin and Allia to enter the city without being enslaved."

  "Clever," she said approvingly. "But let's not leave anything out. Start at the beginning. I like to know what's going on."

  "Very well," Dolanna said. "I think you may want to sit down. This will take a while."

  Camara Tal was going to be a problem, Tarrin decided the next day.

  His things were packed, and he stood at the gangplank of the Dancer. The ship was still garish and ugly, a floating eyesore, but in a strange way he was glad to see it. For a solid month, they had been in Shoran's Fork, a month lost to the other players of the Questing Game, waiting for Tarrin to recover. The pain was gone now, though it did twinge some when he moved too fast, and Triana had told him that morning that he was officially an adult. She had no more hold over him, no more than the already vice-like control she could exert when she really wanted to. He was free to go.

  Free. It seemed a strange word, because he didn't feel free at all. He was still bound to his mission, and Camara Tal had effectively made him feel like a prisoner agai
n. She wouldn't allow him to go out into the street without her, and she stayed close enough to him to step in in case of attack. He already felt smothered by her presence. He really had to find a way to make her give him some space, but without offending her or making her think that she wasn't doing her duty. If there was one thing about her, it was that duty was everything to her. She took her accepted duties as seriously as life and death, and he realized already that all he could hope for was to loosen her deathgrip on him a little rather than making her give up on it.

  The others were getting on board. Tarrin stayed behind to say goodbye to his bond-mother and her two daughters, and to Thean. They stood near him, accepting his goodbyes warmly, either hugging him or taking his paws. Triana's stony mask broke a little when he kissed her on the cheek and thanked her for all she had done for him, and her eyes actually looked a little misty.

  "It was my pleasure, cub," she said with a warm smile. "And I have one more surprise for you."

  "What is it?"

  "Me," a tiny, piping voice announced.

  He hadn't scented her until she blurred into view, sitting on Triana's shoulder. Sarraya sat there sedately, looking at him with a quirky little grin.

  "Say hello to your new shadow," Triana said calmly. "Sarraya has agreed to go with you, to help."

  "Why?" he asked.

  "Because you can't control yourself, cub," she answered flatly. "You have no control over your Sorcery. All it would take is one moment of weakness, and you'd try to use it. If you do that, you'll kill yourself. Sarraya here is a Druid, a strong Druid, and she has the power it takes to keep your power under control."

  "And I like you," Sarraya said with a grin.

  "That too," Triana smiled. "She can be very useful to you, Tarrin, for obvious reasons. Not only is she a Druid, she also has the magical powers of her kind. And I know both of you are clever enough to find ways to use them wisely."

  "Well, I guess I can't stop you," Tarrin sighed, "and I know you'll just forbid me to go if I say no."

  "You're right," she said flintily. "I've already taught Sarraya how to throttle you, so don't worry about it. Just try not to test her, cub. I put too much time and effort into you for you to just incinerate yourself in a moment of distraction."

  "I'll try not to, mother," he assured her.

  Sarraya flitted off of Triana's shoulder, and then landed lightly on his. Her weight was barely more than a ghostly feather on his shoulder, but her scent told him that she was there.

  "Don't worry, Tarrin," Sarraya said. "I think we'll get along fine."

  "Dolanna's going to love this," Tarrin grunted.

  "She'll be happy to have the help," Triana said. "Now you have a couple of Sorcerers, a Priest, and a Druid along. That's alot of magical firepower, and I have the feeling you may need it not too long from now."

  "I hope not," Tarrin said fervently.

  "Don't hope for what you can't have, cub, it's a waste of time," she snorted. "I taught you better than that."

  "Tarrin, lad!" Renoit boomed from the ship. "The tide, she is turning! We must be on our way!"

  "I have to go," he told Triana with wistful eyes. "I'm going to miss you, mother."

  They shared one more fierce embrace, and he took in the powerful scent and feel of his bond-mother one last time. She had been everything that he had needed, right when he needed it. A mentor, a guide, a friend, and someone to depend on. She had relieved him of more than one burden, and because of her, he felt more hopeful for the future. He also felt that now he had something to live for, something much more tangible than the hazy thoughts of his life after his mission had been completed. She had brought a new focus into his life, had allowed him to see past the moment and look into the future, gave him hope that there would be a life for him when he returned from his mission. He didn't know if he'd ever see her again, but he was certain that she had changed his life for the better.

  He let go of her reluctantly, then turned and clasped paws with Thean one more time. "Thanks alot, Thean, you really helped me," he said sincerely.

  "Any time, cub," Thean smiled.

  "Goodbye, Nikki, Shayle," he said to Triana's daughters, then he rose up on his toes and kissed his bond-mother on the cheek one more time. "I love you, mother."

  "And I love you," she said in a trembling voice. "Now go on, cub. They're waiting for you."

  "Come on, Tarrin, it's time to go!" Sarraya said in a voice full of anticipation. "Travel, adventure, monsters, intrigue, danger, and scary things await us! Let's go!"

  "Let's go," he said under his breath, giving Triana and her family one last wistful look. If only he could be among them.

  Maybe someday, he could. But not now. He had a job to do.

  Adjusting the manacle on his wrist, he turned and padded up the gangplank. It was time to get back to reality.

  Chapter 12

  The rain fit her mood perfectly.

  Keritanima stood on the deck of the Sailor's Pride, the personal flagship of the Eram noble family's private fleet, staring out over rain-roughed seas, her short, boxy muzzle scrunched up into a perpetual snarl. The air was surprisingly cool for so late in the spring, and the rain had come down for two straight days, wetting down sails, dripping below decks, and making things miserable for everyone in the huge convoy of ships that escorted the clipper as it sailed west, back to Wikuna. The rain didn't bring lightning or wind, however, making the going very slow and very soggy for all the ships involved, weighing down on the morale of the men.

  Twenty-seven ships. That was how many escorting ships there were. Ten clippers, two Wikuni rakers, twelve frigates, and three Dreadnaughts, huge ships that were brand new to the Wikuni fleets because their sides were plated with sheets of steel. Those ships formed a teardrop formation around Keritanima's vessel, keeping it solidly in the middle of their formation to prevent anything from reaching her. They had taken extravagant measures to protect her for the voyage home, from a small fleet of ships to the Marines that stood on many of them, ready to board enemy vessels and take the fight to the enemy up close.

  The morale of the men was another issue for the cagey Admiral Therak, one of her father's oldest and most experience officers. The old raccoon Wikuni was missing his left ear and had scars breaking up the continuity of his fur in many places, and he paced nervously whenever she could see him. To put it plainly, Keritanima-Chan Eram absolutely terrified his crew. She terrified anyone who looked at her, looked at the expression of utter fury that had not left her features since her capture. Many of them had seen what she had done to the Wikuni Colonel who had been right there when she was initially captured. This was not the vapid little fool that they had heard about. This was a Sorceress, someone who commanded magical power, and had demonstrated her willingness to kill with it. They knew that the King had ordered her captured and brought back, but many of them wondered if that was a really wise thing to do.

  Keritanima pulled the cloak around her a bit tighter, staring out into the sea. It was better now than it had been before. After they had dragged her onto the ship, seeing Tarrin laying there in a pool of his own blood, not knowing if he was alive or dead....it almost drove her mad. It frightened her that she had grown so powerfully attached to anyone, but the truth of it was there in her heart. Tarrin and Allia were her brother and sister, her family, and seeing Tarrin like that had nearly destroyed her. It deeply pained her that they weren't close to her, there to laugh with her or cheer her up, or just be close to her. She felt lost and alone, so very alone, and that loneliness brought with it a strange, acute pain that she had never experienced before. Dear Miranda and Azakar tried to help ease her fear and her suffering, but their friendship just wasn't enough to fill the huge void left in her heart, or comfort the dread terror she felt whenever her mind conjured up the image of Tarrin laying on the dock. Her eidectic memory had saved her many times, but for the first time in her life, she had vigorously cursed it for burning such a starkly vivid memory of her injured brother
into her memory. It was an image she would never forget, to her deathbed.

  But then she had had the dream. It was simple enough. She dreamed she was back in the courtyard in Suld, in the Tower, the courtyard that had been their sanctuary while they were there. She was standing there at the fountain, looking up at the perfection of the statue that stood in the center of it, and then the statue spoke to her! It was a lovely voice, full of power and compassion, and it assured her that Tarrin had survived. That he was alive, and that he and Allia were much closer to her than she thought. Right about then, she woke up, but the powerful clarity of the dream had attached itself to her consciousness, and she found that she had to believe it. That had taken a tremendous burden off of her heart, and though a little part of her wouldn't accept it until she saw Tarrin standing in front of her, the rest of her found comfort in it. She had the feeling that it was Tarrin's mysterious Goddess that was doing it. Keritanima herself didn't hold much salt with gods. They hadn't answered all her prayers when she prayed for her family to stop fighting with each other. But this Goddess seemed a bit different. She was supposedly bound to her by the fact that she was a Sorcerer, but she really didn't hold much salt for that either. This Goddess had never spoken to her, never helped her.

  At least until then. She didn't know if it was the Goddess of the Sorcerers, and she really didn't care. She just knew that Tarrin had made it, and that had brought peace to her. It wasn't enough to calm her completely, for there was still the doubt, the uncertainty, and the fury at being treated in such a callous fashion.