A Queen exchanges roles. A large woman submits and then tells all. A homecoming with an edge. Meetings with Ron and Tisa. Kim does what she does best, investigates. A scholar finds a new home and a new dream. Fay's first mother-daughter chat with Tyra. A ride with Father and Der uncovers an old mystery amidst death.

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The Legal Stuff: The Warrior from Batuk  © 2004, 2007 Aardvark
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 

 
Photo Credit: 3.bp.blogspot.com

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Chapter 28
 
 
I first saw Daphne after she returned to Tulem in mid-morning when she opened the door to the classroom. Standing in the doorway against the background of the hall, she was a vision in purple and white. Whoever had done Daphne's DNA was a master of his craft: her body was as close to mine as made no difference. She darted a glance down the hall, sharply enough to make the tail of her hair fly, giving me a glimpse of the Queen’s circlet with the pattern of emeralds, sapphires and diamond I'd ordered so long ago. I missed my body. Ann was beautiful in her own way, with a set of eyes that could melt or embolden hearts, but she wasn't me.

Queen Daphne stepped inside and shut the door with force just short of a slam. She turned and stared at me like a rabbit with a hound after her.

“Majesty?” I said.

She licked her lips, looking around the room where Kat and Stefan sat behind their desks. They looked back at her.

Daphne wasn't popular with either of them, but they were polite. Kat said, “Good Morning, Mother,” with Stefan following close behind.

Daphne let out a breath she'd been holding. “Good morning to you, too, Katrina, Stefan.” Her gaze lingered on Stefan. It must have been a dream come true that her genetic son had called her that. She broke away with a sigh. “Um, Ann. May I see for a moment?”

“Of course, Majesty.” We stepped outside into the hall.

“I still need some help,” she whispered when she saw no one was within hearing.

I couldn't help but think that I made a better queen. “Would you like me to stay with you until you get comfortable?”

“Yes! I thought it would be easier, but actually waking up looking like you, and then facing everyone...”

“I understand and I’ll be with you until you’re at ease, but for Goddess’ sake, be more confident. There's nothing to fear. You're the Queen and this is your palace!”

I made my excuses to my children and left with her. The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon I walked by her side, occasionally whispering in her ear when she was unsure of something, making me feel like a conscious in a play. Almost immediately, she improved. She wasn't incompetent, just more nervous than I would have been. But then again, for her, the stakes were enormous.

Under pressure, she did what I thought was a strange thing: she sometimes forgot herself and called me “Dana,” but I expected that, it was when she called me “sister” -- more than once — that I took notice. Somehow, through all of this, she still thought of me with affection.

Two days after I started with Daphne, Kim came by just after lunch and told me that Paoli had made a breakthrough with Elsbeth. I begged off guiding Daphne that afternoon, and Kim and I rode out to Paoli’s castle.

Lord Paoli met us outside the guards quarters. “Come,” he said, striding rapidly towards the back. “Elsbeth is ready to submit. She can neither deny who she is, nor her body’s needs.”

“Will we be permitted to watch?”

“Yes, Majesty. I can form no attachment to a woman I saw laugh as she tortured another nearly to death. We’ll change her body, train her, and then it’s off to the blocks.”

Paoli opened her cell door and led us through. She was much the same on the outside, but a different Elsbeth, much changed from what we'd seen before, knelt on the floor in the slave position. She ignored us women, keeping her adoring eyes on Paoli, the man who had mastered her, as if he were her guiding light in a universe of wondrous, dominating men, a practical description of the truth to a newly awakened natural slave.

I wondered what Paoli had to do to bring her across. Whatever he'd done it must have been a task to peel away layer after layer of man-hatred until her natural slave female core was laid bare.

I’d heard of scenes where strong-willed, intelligent women, the kind most prone to self-denial, screamed themselves hoarse when they discovered their true selves, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness. When they at last knew who they were, the difference was usually remarkable. Still intelligent and strong-willed, they often became the exact opposites of who they had been, and generally made superb, exciting slaves.

Elsbeth was a question. Few women had so warped themselves by attempting to look like a man. Regardless, whether Elsbeth would be an intelligent, strong, kind woman -- the type that men most prize -- or a fawning dullard made no difference to me, not after what she'd done.

“Elsbeth,” Paoli said.

Elsbeth looked up with eyes large and longing. My natural slave heart joined hers in empathy, and I was glad that Franco had plumbed my depths the night before.

“Yes, Lord Paoli?” she replied without hesitation.

He brought out a long leather cord. “Submit.”

Her equanimity broke, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Her powerful arms left her hips, and slowly, realizing the moment, she reached forward and crossed her wrists. She sobbed, unable to quell tears of joy.

“I, Elsbeth Lin, submit to you, Master!”

He stepped forward and tied a loose knot, binding her wrists together. “You belong to me. Rise, slave. What is your name?”

“My name is whatever pleases you, Master.”

He nodded harshly. “Your name is Pel, short for the large awkward bird of the South.”

She bowed her head in shame. “My name is Pel, Master.”

He brought out a kit and tattooed the vaec to her thigh while she grimaced in pain.

“Look at your slave mark, Pel,” Paoli ordered. She obeyed, the outsized girl looking upon it with her mouth wide open. “Pel, you will be pleasing men for the rest of your life.”

She wept, but her cries were not sadness and misery. Paoli had taught her well the pleasures of her body in the hands of a dominant man.

Finished with her, he nodded to us. I took a step forward.

“Pel, why did you abduct Scholar Ann and who were you working for?”

She hesitated slightly until Paoli glared at her. Then all resistance left the former slaver, now just a slave herself. “Mistress! We had her watched for years until we were sure that she had learned the secret of staying free.”

She went on to describe it all: the plans to get Ann out of Tulem; where she would have been taken (Teshruk), and how they would have tested and tortured her. As I suspected, the plan had been Elsbeth’s from the beginning, but she’d had approval from her superiors in the Guild.

Interestingly, it was likely that no one in the Guild outside Tulem knew what happened. Elsbeth and the rest had been waiting patiently for over a month for their chance to abduct Ann, and would have waited much longer. We'd seen their back-up plan. They hadn't taken Ann out of the valley in time, but they'd chosen that remote farmhouse because they looked very similar to the farmhouse’s former inhabitants, whom they had killed and buried in their own field earlier. Without Stefan and Kat’s initiative, they could have escaped detection until they had what they needed from Ann. Then they would have killed her and left the valley at their convenience, one at a time, on foot or horse.

As dusk settled into darkness, Kim had her turn with Pel, coming at her story from several angles and exploring sides of it I hadn’t thought of. Gradually, a fortuitous truth emerged: the Slavers Guild likely didn't know what had happened. We could depart Tulem without anyone following us if we took a few precautions.

The rest of the week flew by as we prepared to leave. After a couple of weeks Daphne gave me a hug and told me that she was ready. When Ovid pronounced Ann fit for travel, Katrina and Stefan visited Ann for the last time and Ovid administered a new dose of Ruk’s serum to Ann, this time bought from a passing slaver from Ademar so even Abul wouldn't know what she looked like. Four weeks after Ann was abducted, I said my goodbyes in the palace, and Kim, Ann, and I rode through the outer gates in the early dawn in the company of merchants heading for parts east and north, our cloaks and hoods concealing our faces in the cold, swirling winds.

Ann had the worst of it. She'd been an average rider on her best day, and her new body had kept most of the old injuries, making it a trial. In this form, now a woman several inches taller and years older, she had tawny hair that flowed thickly past her shoulders. Her eyes, now azure, had lost their vulnerability. Her pretty face, when I caught her at an unguarded moment, showed the strain of an uncertain future.

Our group had none of the speed of the column of soldiers that had escorted Thermin and me to Batuk and lacked the discipline. Our three wagons, eight men, two women and hired guards strung themselves out loosely, and we stopped twice for nature calls before lunch. Three women attaching themselves to a larger party for protection was unexceptional, especially as at least one robber band had been making a living from caravans in the region, but other than half-hearted attempts by the guards to mate with each of us, the three-day trip across lush fields and dusty plains was unremarkable.

Coming home, I didn't see much that had changed in twenty years. We passed by a few more farms and, as we came within a few miles of Batuk's walls, I spotted a project by the river. The calls of the vendors hawking their wares and spicy delicacies at the Lion Gate made it seem like time had stood still. We waved goodbye to our fellow travelers as we rode through the gate, and then east on the wall road.

“Eagles is about a mile ahead,” Kim said, beginning to get lively now that the end of the journey was so near. “Let me do the talking. If I’m lucky I might be able to find us all rooms right here.”

I couldn't do a thing about it except agree. “Sure, Kim.”

Eagles appeared at the left, the path to the main house passing through familiar grounds. Men practiced on the exercise grounds with shield and sword.

A guard in Eagles colors at the door watched us ride up, determined that we were likely no threat, and went inside to report. We pulled up to a hitching post in front of the main house and eased out of the saddles.

When Kim’s feet touched the ground, Ron appeared in the door. He practically leaped down the stairs and headed straight for the Royal Inspector, paying the rest of us no attention..

“Kim!” he laughed, picking her up. The way he lifted her might have been painful immediately after the ride, but she made no protest, only wrapping her arms around his neck like a drowning woman. He spun her around once, powerfully enough to swing her riding dress and white hair out behind her, and when her face came into view it wore a dreamy smile I’d never seen before.

Oh, wonderful.

“Ron,” Kim laughed. “Put me down. What about my friends? Their rooms?”

“Right.” He brought her softly to the dusty ground.

“This is Deana and Ananisia, my good friends from Tulem, the ones I wrote to you about,” she said.

He bowed slightly, a correct greeting to new guests. “Welcome to Eagles! I’m Ron t’Pol. I have rooms for you not far from here.”

Kim whispered something in his ear.

“…or, I’m sure we could find you something suitable in the main house if you don’t mind sharing a room.”

“We’d be grateful,” I replied, seething underneath. That I had to speak to him this way was his fault.

He nodded. “Very good. Let’s get you settled then.” We went inside. Kim was rewarded with a single room of her own on the second floor, while Ann and I were given a room three doors down by Tisa’s room.

It was a homecoming, but only just. Inside a home, the dangers of the world should lie outside, not walk with you into your house, but there was nothing for it.

Ann was exhausted. I ran a bath for her, and then one for me as she settled in for a nap.

I left the room when Ann was sleeping soundly. The halls were a fresh brown with orange trim after a recent repainting and new tapestries adorned the walls, my mother’s work probably, she had the eye for decorations. About a third of the faces were unfamiliar, and they looked at me, a strange girl in foreign dress.

Yet, there was a place that hadn’t changed, and my feet took me down the familiar path to the practice field as if I’d never left it. I was not the only woman who watched: a maid and a girl from the kitchen stood with me under one of the trees on the periphery, and feminine faces appeared from time to time in windows in the main house.

In Tulem, the palace guards practiced daily in the yard by their quarters. Sometimes, rarely, I would catch a glimpse of them in passing, but I didn’t seek them out -- since I became a lady, the sight of men whacking and cursing each other was not deemed suitable for my eyes -- and I respected the customs in deference to Franco.

I didn’t know what to expect; even when I’d lived as Tyra in the main house, I could hardly bear to watch my old command practice, and I would not let them see me watching for the discomfort the men would feel. Few could forget that I had been their former commander, and I’m sure that more than a few were relieved when they’d heard that I'd been abducted.

Nearly twenty-six years later I was back. In the way of warriors, they had stayed together. Perhaps two-thirds I recognized.

I still missed the dance, but I wondered if I had anything in common with them any more.

The cotton dress I wore fit me. I’d chosen it for comfort and the way the blue and gray matched my eyes and hair. After I’d taken a bath, I’d shrugged into it easily after adjusting the laces of my bodice until it snugged my breasts the “right” way, and flipped my hair through a brooch, pinning it behind me in two seconds. In the mirror, I was a pretty girl with large eyes of the deepest blue, and a body and face I was becoming accustomed to. I'd rather have had my old body, but most of the time I thought little of it. My body was half the size of the smallest warrior on the field and I had, at best, a quarter the strength in my arms. And I felt normal.

These men were warriors; they would never see me as their equal. I accepted that. I couldn’t do what they did anymore. They would die to protect Batuk and the people within our city's walls. They were a reassuring sight to women, who depended on them most, and I was no exception, but I doubted that the maid and cook beside me who admired them thought that they, as women, were inferior. After years as a woman, I had to agree. In the main, the trade-offs were about even. Men and women were different: each had his or her own needs, and each saw the world through different eyes.

So why did I still envy them, why did it sadden me, and why did I feel smaller and weaker when I watched them wield the tools of their profession? I was about to go back inside when I saw Ron. He saw me, and showed me a smile.

“Good afternoon, Deana.”

“Good afternoon, Ron t’Pol,” I greeted him as he neared me. He walked briskly, and would have been past me in a moment. I placed my hands on my stomach, hiding them from the other women, both of whom I was sure were getting an eyeful of my handsome brother, and flashed the sign for “stop.” I did it three times before he responded, slowing to a halt and looking at me curiously.

“Thank you for giving us rooms, Ron t’Pol,” I said, signing simultaneously, “I’m Tyra.”

He peered at me closely, but there were few clues to be had from that body save that, like Tyra, I appeared, in fact, to be female.

“It was my pleasure to help,” he replied, signing, “Nineteenth hour.”

I nodded. It was the time Hadrian’s Gong rang that time of year and when practice ended. It was only an hour, so I decided to wait, watching to see how my brother commanded. I thought he worked them hard and they responded. Clearly he had their respect. With a faint echo of longing tempered by pride for my younger brother, I admitted to myself that I wasn’t sure if I could have done any better.

When Hadrian’s Gong sounded, he dismissed the men. He nodded to me as he passed, and I followed, catching up to him on the path. He walked around the corner and took a detour around some trees to a place that couldn't be seen from the house.

“You’re Tyra?” he asked.

“I am. It’s a long story.” I told him what had happened in the garden in Tulem the last time I’d seen him, and then he asked me a few quick questions. When he was satisfied I was who I said I was, he laughed.

“It’s hard to believe it's you. You look like a little girl barely at her majority. I'm delighted that you're here, but how, why?”

“I have to talk to you about Kim first,” I said, glaring up at him and crossing my arms. “Damn it, Ron, why in Hades are you seeing my Royal Inspector?” I winced. Leave it to a man to make a woman start swearing again.

“We met at the Founders Day celebration two years ago and I liked her. I’m not a dolt, you know. I'm not going to blurt out that my sister is the Queen of Tulem, and even if I did, it would sound like chicken-headed idiocy.”

“How well do you know her?” I asked, trying to hold my temper in check.

“Obviously not as well as I’d like, which is why I invited her here,” he replied, not taking the matter seriously.

“What did she tell you that she did?”

He made the tiniest shrug. “Just what you said. She mentioned in passing that she was the Royal Inspector. I take it that she inspects things for the palace.”

Ashtar, give me strength! “She doesn’t inspect 'things.' The Royal Inspector is our equivalent of Chief Investigator for the constabulary. Kim is as sharp as a knife, her curiosity puts felines to shame, and she is as relentless as a Dhalwari tracker. She saw me once as Tyra, and knows a lot of bits and pieces from those early days. It’s better than an even bet that she knows Tyra l’Fay came from Eagles.”

“She never said one word about that to me,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

I sighed. “That’s because she likes you; she doesn’t want to scare you away. Kim is my friend. She isn’t out to hurt me, but she is a loyal subject of the valley. One unfortunate slip connecting the Queen to Tyra l’Fay and I might face questions I could not answer when I returned to Tulem.”

“By the Gods, if it means your safety… Do you want me to send her away?”

“Too late. That would make her suspicious. We’ll play along as if I’m really ‘Deana,’ and you’ll spread the word to the rest of the family that Tyra was abducted decades ago and hasn’t been heard from since, in other words, say I’m dead.”

“And if she still discovers enough to threaten you?”

“Let’s make certain that doesn’t happen. I’m counting on you. If you need to brol Kim all day and all night to keep her too happy to ask questions, then do it. In the meantime, pretend that I'm just a polite stranger, at least in public.”

“You need a new body,” he said amusedly. “When you unleash that royal attitude it makes you look like you need a paddling. I don’t think this will be so daunting. We won’t give her any reason to be suspicious.”

“I hope so. It’s good to see you again, Ron.”

“And you as well, ” he said, bringing me into his arms. Then he smacked me on the rear end, hard enough to sting. I stared at him, my mouth open and hands rubbing my behind.

“What in Hades!”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” he chuckled. “All that arrogance in such a sweet young package.”

“You ... you rhadus!”

“It’s a lesson for choosing the body of such a cute girl. You could carry off that imperial pose in your former form, but not in this one, little sis.”

My face burned as I clenched my hands into small cute fists.

“I didn’t choose this body!”

“Then why…”

“I was shot with a serum dart!”

“Then I’m sorry,” he said, managing for the moment to appear nearly contrite.

“No, you’re not,” I said, still steaming, “but I’ll let it go -- this once.”

He beamed. “Why, thank you, Your Majesty.”

“To a hundred thousand subjects, that’s exactly who I am,” I said, as chilly as my sweet voice could make it. “I don’t give a damn what I look like, I’m not a girl. I was your older brother, for Gods’ sake. I...” I stopped when he started to stare.

Goddess, have I changed so much? I might have been the Queen, but to him, I was only Tyra ordering him around and making threats with all the charm of an aristocrat. He was just trying to be a brother, reminding his “little” sister that her ego exceeded acceptable bounds.

Welcome back to the family, where you are just Tyra l’Fay, and Batuk, where the nobility is the butt of jokes.

“Please forget I said that. I’m very worried about this — and a lot of things.” I held out my arms to him and smiled. “Could I start over?”

In his arms again, I remembered something Tisa once did to him. It wasn’t the sort of revenge a man would use, but I was no longer a man. “Ron, if you ever spank me again, you’ll find pepper in your smallclothes.”

He laughed. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Forgive me, Tyra?”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m surprised your husband allowed you to leave.”

“Franco and I have a deal. He has the freedom to do what he wants with his mistress, and I can go wherever I want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was inevitable. I wish we had more time; I have more than twenty years to talk about with you, but I need to speak with Tisa before dinner tonight. If you would, could you arrange a meeting with her in the garden?”

“That won’t be a problem.”

***

Like Batuk, the garden was nearly the same after twenty-six years. Flowers had been replaced with other varieties, renewed, and rearranged; hedges had been dug up and replanted, and a new bench circled the same tree, now slightly larger in circumference, but it retained the same quiet, the sense of being in another world far from trouble.

Tisa was the same but different. She swept confidently around the hedge. She had stopped her aging at about twenty-three or four, about the time that girlish youth and young maturity mixed in equal parts. She had trimmed her long blonde hair to a more sophisticated length. Her poise wavered when she saw me, wondering, I guessed if the small woman rising to her feet could actually be me.

I wasn’t sure I how I would greet her until I saw the pain in her eyes, and then I couldn't think anymore. I cried as I took her in my arms. She was bigger than me now, but it made no difference: she was warm; she smelled the same; and she was my sister.

“I’m so sorry, Tyra.” she said, weeping on my shoulder.

“It’s all right. It’s in the past, and everything is fine.”

She shook her head. “No! Tyra, I was an idiot. I treated you horribly.”

“You made up for it. It’s all right.”

“No. It’s not!” she insisted. “I let you down. But you have to believe me, I would have freed you anyway.”

I looked up at that. “I don’t understand. Tyra l’Fay is free in the records?”

“Of course, twenty-six years ago.” Her face twisted in anguish. “Goddess, you don’t even know.”

“Know what?”

“It all happened the time you came back to Batuk, the time that terrible man hurt you so badly. Father came to my door while I was just getting up, just after he saw you off. He gave me your message, ‘I expect you to do what you promised.’ It struck me at the time that the message, with its implicit order and underlying threat, was not the message of a slave to her mistress. Then he told me what you and Ketrick were doing in Tulem, beaming with pride the entire time. He said that he trusted me with the information because you had trusted me. He even clapped me on the shoulder like a warrior, gave me one of his big fatherly smiles, and told me how proud he was of us both. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life. I resolved then to free you and divorce Ketrick immediately. Oh, Goddess, Tyra, you must believe me, I would have done it that afternoon.

“And then Ketrick showed up in the late morning, his tunic flecked with fresh blood and the look of death in his eyes. He told me that if I didn’t free you and get a divorce immediately he was going to ‘snap my neck like a chicken, then grind me up and feed me to the rats.’”

“That bastard did what?”

“You really didn’t know?”

“No! Damn that man. He never told me that. I’ve always known that you would do the right thing if you knew the truth. Please, Tisa, accept that it’s long over. I never stopped loving you, and I just want my sister back.”

“Tyra!” she wailed, and fell into my arms, where she poured out grief and guilt on my shoulder, gripping me hard enough to cause pain.

When I could breathe again, I said, “This wasn’t all your fault.” I told her about the scheme in her room to make her think I was really just a slave in my heart.

“You planned that?”

“I’m sorry. We were afraid that you’d try to come to Tulem.”

She thought for a moment then shook her head.

“No. By my actions, I’d placed you into that position, and you’re being too hard on Ketrick. He was mortified that he’d allowed you to come to harm. Father said that he stalked and killed like a big mountain cat. Without you there to point out the cell leaders, it made it harder. It was a mad rush to kill all the cells before they knew what was going on. Goddess, what a bloodbath. Fortunately, they all had the poison tooth, else the city would have been in an uproar to find the killers. Father said that the murderous flame in Ketrick’s eyes didn’t fade until all on the list were checked-off, and that you were safe.”

I turned away as not to reveal my shame. After twenty years of hating the rhadus, he could still make me wet. I cleared my throat and said, “He shouldn’t have felt that way. It wasn’t his fault. If it was anyone’s, it was mine for allowing that weasel to creep so close to me.”

“Ketrick is a man. You can’t expect him to be reasonable about such things. He scared me nearly to death. I wept, and told him how ashamed I was of what I’d done to you, and assured him that I would do what I had promised, but he still followed me to the magistrate, hovering over me like a thundercloud, and made sure I said the proper words and filled out the forms correctly. He ensured absolutely, without question, that it was done. He loved you.”

“That... That was long ago.”

She smiled, brushing my hair.

“You know, you could have selected a different body. It’s your eyes... It may have been a long time ago, but you can’t hide what you feel. We wondered what happened. He was your consort for years, and then the next we hear, you exiled him.”

I stared straight ahead, refusing to cry about him again. By all rights I should have been over him, yet every time his name, thoughts of him, of what he’d meant to me…. I ground my teeth loud enough to be audible.

“Tyra, what happened?” she said, taking my face in her hands.

Although my instincts screamed that I pour out my heart to her, I couldn’t tell her. If Tisa knew about Ketrick’s betrayal, then she would have to tell father that he'd exiled his oldest son falsely, or else keep that awful secret to herself.

“Thinking about Ketrick is a like an open sore,” I said after I unclenched my teeth. “Let’s just say that he really made me angry.”

“All right, if you don’t want to talk about that’s up to you. Just tell me this: have you accepted who you are?”

“A woman? Sure. I have a husband and I’m a mother. I can barely remember what it was like not to wear skirts or a dress.” I grinned, wanting to change the subject. “Goddess, Tis’, I’m so happy to be back at Eagles with you, with all of you, even Mother. You have no idea what it means to be with people who know who I really am.”

“I can imagine. Is there a chance you’ll leave Tulem and come back to Batuk to stay?”

“I don't know yet. I can say that being the Queen isn’t what it used to be, but whatever happens, there are a few details I have to take care of first.”

***

“Dana, did you know that Tyra l’Fay is from Eagles?” Kim asked me two days later in the room I shared with Ann, now asleep, exhausted from her morning exercises.

“Sure. Tyra used to talk about her home a fair amount. Kim, if you’re talking about Tyra with her family, I hope it doesn’t go too far. Eagles wouldn’t be so hospitable to me if they found out who I am and that I used to own her.”

She smiled as if I’d said something funny. “I’m always cautious. I was curious, so I asked Ron and Tisa about her. Regrettably, they don’t like to talk about her. No one in the family does, in fact.”

“Let me guess; they told you she was dead. Are you surprised? What are you after, anyway?”

“Tyra discovered the way to stay free. She taught you, and you, in turn, taught Ann. That secret is incredibly important. We should find out where she discovered it.”

“Tyra already told me. She discovered it in two unlikely places and put it together. It was a fluke, and is unlikely to be repeated.”

“What? This is ridiculous. I’m trying to find out information you already know.”

“And I’m not going to tell you. If the Slavers Guild thought you knew anything, they might kidnap and torture you like Ann. You might think about dropping this whole line of inquiry.”

“Hmm,” she said, pursing her lips in thought. “As I understand it, you, Ann, Tyra, and Ketrick all know the secret, or have access to it.”

I sighed. “Yes, yes, that’s right, although Ketrick would never bother to find out. He, like virtually everyone else, thinks that serum girls should be slaves. Wherever they are, I’m sure that he's instructed Tyra to keep silent, and would take safeguards if he ever sold her.”

“A reasonable assumption, but there is another name that should be included on that list: Tisa l’Fay.”

Damn it to Hades, Kim. “No. Tyra thought highly of her, and especially of the way she supported her, but Tisa never knew so much that she would be able to pass on the knowledge.”

“How can you be sure? It’s possible…”

“All right. I didn’t want to mention this because the more you know about it the more danger you might be in, but it isn’t easy to do. Part of the secret is an intricate mental technique Tisa would have had no reason to learn.”

Her purple eyes latched onto me with a stare. “Fascinating. This technique, how exactly…”

“Kim,” I said, making the sign of Ashtar, “don’t ask me any more about it.”

“As you wish, but it doesn’t change anything as far as Tisa is concerned. If I were the Guild’s investigator, now that Ann is unavailable and thinking that the Queen is still under heavy guard, I would review other angles to find the secret. This wouldn't be hard to work out from just the facts the Guild knows. Less than a day after you became Queen, Malchor abducted you, but you managed somehow to foil his plans to collar you. By deduction, you knew how to stay free before that point. Somehow, in the short time between becoming Lady Dana until the time you attacked the palace, you knew the secret, remarkable, really, considering you’d been very busy. So, how did Lady Dana learn to stay free?

“Tyra would have been my choice for a closer look. Looking at her from any point of view, she is unusual. She held up under torture, and had been abducted at great risk, an odd thing to do to a serum girl. Tam sensed a mystery, and would have investigated her for that alone had he lived. With the resources of the Guild, a competent investigator could easily trace back Tyra’s history. In Batuk, he would have discovered that she was doing very well indeed for a serum girl, probably gaining acceptance within her family, greeting her former warriors with a light heart, and so forth, all signs of freedom and happiness.”

“You’ve already spoken to the warriors about this?” I asked as calmly as I could.

“No, but even after so many years, people would remember Tyra and have stories to tell. Something like what I’ve described must have happened. Dana, the important thing is that the trail will eventually lead back here, and then to the woman who had helped her, Tisa.”

“Tell me, Kim, is this the way you normally spend vacations with a man, investigating his family?”

“It is not.” Her face flushed, and she looked away. “Ron is everything that I want. He’s smart, brave, strong, and a leader. He makes me laugh, and in the silks…” She blushed furiously.

Oh, Goddess. “Are you in love with him?”

“It’s too early to say, but I think I am.” She sighed. “If I read him right, he feels the same for me. It’s his family. I don’t think they like me very much, and I want to prove my worth to them.”

“I see. How long do you think the Slavers Guild will take to trace this link back to Tisa?”

“Probably a few months, depending how much effort they put into it. I’d concentrate on finding Ketrick first, and, through him, Tyra, but if I couldn’t find Tyra, I’d go to Eagles.”

“I doubt that Ketrick would be found if he didn’t want to be. If you wish, talk to Ron about the danger, and know that when I get back to Tulem, the Slavers Guild and I will talk. This matter will be included in the discussion.”

”You would help Tisa?”

“It's not just Tisa. I don’t want the Slavers Guild prying everywhere, harassing everyone I’ve known or will meet. And now, will you stop investigating and enjoy yourself?”

“Forgive me, Dana, but until you can reach an ironclad agreement with the Slavers Guild, Tisa will be in danger. I owe it to Ron’s family to discover what I can to protect her, as well as find favor with them. Please do not command me to stop.”

I nodded, despite myself, honored at her decision. “I will not.” If that's the way you want it, Kim, but it doesn’t mean we have to make it easy.

***

While Tisa took Ann and Kim for a walk, I met Father and Ron in the drawing room, and told them what Kim had been up to.

“That’s quite a girl you have there, son, smart, honorable, well meaning, and deadlier than any snake,” Father said dryly.

“It appears so,” Ron said, and then turned to me. “What do you think, sis? You know her best.”

“The more I think about it the more worried I become. Kim is a crossbow with a loose trigger right now. I fear that no matter what happens, one day it will occur to her that I might be Tyra. She’ll try to verify it by asking me a few questions that only the real Dana could answer. I don’t what to do to stop her; all I know is that I don't plan to be anywhere near her to give her that opportunity.”

“This means that you’ll return to Tulem soon?” Father asked.

“I think it's best that I return as soon as Ann is strong enough. I hope that you’ll be nicer to Kim. She did us all a favor pointing out the danger to Tisa. The best way to keep her from thinking about it might be to make sure that she’s too busy and happy to want to.”

“I'll do my part,” my brother replied, grinning.

“And Kim will stay longer in Batuk and away from you if she knows she's welcome,” Father mused. “If she finds out about you, what would she do?”

“The right thing, as she sees it. I’ve known her for more than twenty years, and I don’t know what that is.”

***

I slowed down near the entrance to the Fortress, allowing Ann to catch up. Her chest heaved, and her sweat-matted hair was plastered against her brow in the afternoon sun, but she drove on to the top, stopping to rest at the observation point, where she finally sagged into one of the benches, exhausted but elated.

“I couldn’t have done that a week ago,” she gasped.

“You’re nearly all the way back,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder.

She leaned back her head, stretched against the bench, and closed her eyes, taking long deep breaths. When she had her breath back, she pushed herself to her feet.

“Come on,” she said reaching for my hand. “Let’s see the city.”

We walked over to the railing, and Ann loosened her hair to catch the high wind. Leaning over the bar, she gazed down at the city below.

I pointed out some of the sights with my arm: Eagles; several temples; a few of the major parks, the Batuk Institute, where we’d been the week before; and to the east, barely seen around the rock of the Fortress, the Slaves Dream, where we’d been twice, and where men had forced us to admit our true natures.

We laughed about that last part. Sharing fantasies and men, had brought us closer. For me, too, returning to the Slaves Dream had another meaning: except for the time with Paoli, it was the first time since we’d been married that I’d been with someone else.

“Thinking about Franco?” Ann asked, her touch on my arm breaking my stare at the horizon.

I smiled. No one knew me better than she did. “Yes.”

Ann looked towards a certain place on a mountain range in the southwest, nearly lost in mist.

“It’s strange not to see mountain walls around me, and to feel the seasons. It’s like living on the edge,” she said, a hint of longing in her voice.

“It’s your choice. If you don’t like Batuk, there are other places.”

She shook her head.

“This city is fine, invigorating in its disorder, and the Batuk Institute is exceptional. I'd be pleased to be a part of it.”

“If that’s what you’ve decided, then we can bribe the Scholars Guild to transfer you, and Eagles has already told you that they’d be happy to have you until you get settled.”

“Then let it be decided: I want to be a part of the Institute, although I’d like to delay the transfer for a few months, at least until I can safely change back to my old body.”

“I don’t know how you managed. I feel like a plaything in this passion slave body.”

Ann lifted an eye towards me. “It may not suit you, but I like that body, and that’s my face you’re wearing.”

“And you’re welcome to it. Very well. We'll visit the Institute tomorrow. I’ll set it up so that you can join them any time you like.”

“Why the rush? Are you going back to Tulem soon?”

“Yes. I’ve decided that I have some business there that can’t wait.” I looked down to the city of my birth, already missing her.

“Was it worth it, marrying Franco?”

“I could never regret bringing Kat and Stefan into the world. As for the rest…” I shrugged. “I don’t regret that either; it was my choice. I could have done worse. Why?”

“I've been thinking about getting married lately.”

“By the Goddess, really? Do you have anyone in mind?”

“No, or, not exactly, but I think the time has come to take this next step.”

“Well, that’s a methodical way to put it.”

“Thoughts of marriage now, having children?” She laughed nervously. “Even if I weren’t well into my third century, I would still be cautious and orderly. It’s my way. This won't be easy. Whoever it is, I’ll have to tell them about me, a delight not to have to hide my nature but still a risk — but it’s time, I think.”

“If you say it’s time, then it is, but why the sudden interest? Does this come from watching the inseparable Ron and Kim?”

“It began before that.” She glancing at me uncertainly. “When you and Paoli rescued me, there was another whose heroism profoundly affected me: your son.”

“So that’s it. A man risking everything for me does that for me, too. I’m proud of Stefan. He’ll grow up be a fine man.”

“He is already more of a man than many that use the name.”

“I think so, too, but Stefan is barely eighteen. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I live because of his quick thinking and bravery, and to think that he would have gone in alone, risking his life -- for me, Dana.” she exclaimed, slapping the rail with her hand. “Even in my dreams, I was never that brave. It’s impossible for me to think of him as a child.” She wiped her eyes abruptly, angrily. “Yes, Stefan is only eighteen, but with that gallant moment came the giddy notion that I might find happiness as a wife with the right man. In Tulem, I never entertained such thoughts; they were impossible with the Slavers Guild watching me, anyway, and I wasn’t interested. But now, with the formerly unthinkable in my head, and having the opportunity….”

Ann waved her hand towards the streets far below, where ten thousand people, dots of color, walked, strolled or rode to nearly as many destinations.

“Behold, a dynamic, free society. I imagine that there are a few worthy men below us who would not mind marrying a freewoman with the body of a passion slave.”

I laughed, and an instant later Ann joined me. Without meaning to, she had just restated an old saying describing a man’s ideal wife.

But with a last look at the city below before we entered the Fortress for a drink before starting back down, her eyes again wandered to a place on that far mountain range, where behind a gate lay a certain valley.

***

The next day Ann and I visited the Institute. After the head of the Institute examined Ann’s Guild membership papers, and after I gave the Institute a gratuity of fifty golds -- enough to buy a small house — the way was cleared for a transfer and s light modification. By lunchtime, Ann became Ananisia Tan, an Associate Scholar of good standing in the Batuk Institute.

At the base of the Institute’s steps, Ann turned around and looked up to the marble columns, gleaming in the morning sun, the chiseled and polished facing, carvings of the ancient philosophers, historians, and academicians.

“So a new life begins,” she sighed, clutching to her chest her new Guild membership certificate, still smelling of fresh ink and hot embossed gold burned into the special Guild parchment.

“I think you’ll like it here, Ananisia,” I said.

“Yes,” she said, turning to me with a slight smile, “that will be my name from now on, won’t it? I’m not complaining, far from it. I’m extremely fortunate to be alive and free and doing what I want, but I shall miss the friends I leave behind.”

Back at the estate, Tisa met us in our room and insisted on taking Ananisia for lunch at one of her favorite places, and then on to a shopping trip to celebrate her move to Batuk. Tisa threw me a certain look, so I made my excuses.

After they were gone, I had a knock on my door.

Mother answered, which was a mild surprise, as we hadn’t seen each other very much since I’d been at Eagles. “Come, we must have a talk before you leave,” she said.

“Yes, Mother.” I followed her down the hall to the sitting room, a private place behind heavy doors ordering tea from a servant on the way.

She arranged herself comfortable on a couch, with her legs crossed, and leaned back. I did the same in a chair facing her across a serving table. We chatted about affairs of the estate until the tea arrived. Mother waited until the servant left, then:

“We have at least two hours before Ron returns with Kim and Tisa with Ann,” she said, leaning forward. “Tell me of your life.”

“Is this, then, our first mother-daughter chat?”

“I very much hope so.”

I toyed with my teacup, turning it around in my hand as I considered her, growing angrier the more I thought about it. I didn't mind talking about Kat or Stefan, but after more or less ignoring me when I was Tyr, and Tyra when she thought I would eventually become a slave, this was just like her to order me to a place where I might “reveal” myself to her satisfaction. Just because I’m her daughter now does not mean that we are close. I sighed. “Mother, this is awkward.”

She lifted her cup and took a slow sip, tapping her little finger on the side. “I owe you an explanation for the past. Boys and men are like another species to me. I understand what they do; I can appreciate them from afar, like watching stags butt each other, or leap majestically through the brush, but I don’t comprehend them. I never have.”

I laughed as twenty years of mystery ended in a crash of banality. “That is your ‘explanation?' Do you really think that I’m so much easier to ‘comprehend’ now?”

“Of course you are. You’re not a man; you're a wife and mother. Now tell me of your life. Surely, as a mother yourself, you recognize my need to know my own daughter?”

I thought of Kat and nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Mother,” I said, resigned to what must be, “I suppose I do.”

I started slowly, speaking to her as I would to any woman. Her attention encouraged me onward, and gradually I spoke of matters that I never could have with Father, or have expected any man to completely understand. I shared with her my dreams, frustrations and joys, and much more about Kat and Stefan. She remained rapt, interrupting me with only a few questions. More tea arrived, but we barely touched it.

“You’ve grown up without me,” she said wistfully. “I wish I could have been with you.”

“You were. Tyra is a continuation of Tyr.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding slowly, “in a way. Although your deportment is superb, there’s a hard edge to you that I recognize from years ago. Are you still bitter at what happened to you?”

“It gave me the chance to help save Batuk, but it was wrong. I can’t forget it or forgive the man who stole my manhood.”

“Oh, Tyra,” she sighed, rising to her feet, and, for the first time in many years, I saw tears in her eyes.

I allowed her to hold me, but I’d been over this ground too often. “Mother, really. It’s really not so bad. I wouldn’t give up what I have.”

She released me, but kept her hands on my shoulders. “I know. You’ve come too far, but you keep part of yourself in the past. You aren’t a man or a warrior anymore, Tyra. You must abandon the old ways.”

“I know I'm a woman. Think of the rest as nostalgia.”

“’Nostalgia’ has nearly cost you your marriage, and has almost killed you. You don’t need it any more.”

“In time…” I began wearily, already sick of the subject.

She dismissed it with a sweep of her hand. “After twenty-six years? That’s just an evasion.”

“Mother,” I said, completely exasperated. “Father said that I should know myself. Do you want me to pretend to be someone I’m not?”

“Your father, for all his excellent qualities, is still a man. His forays into womanhood are physical. The way you speak to me tells me all I need to know. Come, sit with me,” she said, guiding me to a place beside her on the couch. “Daughter, this is poisoning you. Consider the appropriate conduct for your sex. What you are doing hurts not only yourself, but women everywhere.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“Hardly. As a warrior, you had a code of conduct. A warrior that disregards the rules of the Warriors Guild damages not only his honor, but also the honor of warriors everywhere. As it is with warriors, so it is with women. What have you learned of men’s and women’s places in this world?”

“There is no one absolute answer; it’s different everywhere.” I shrugged. “Generally, at its base? Lady Katrina told me once that men were placed upon Zhor to serve women’s needs, and that the reverse was also probably true.”

“The phrasing of an aristocrat,” she said, lifting a corner of her mouth to form the faintest smile. “Lady Katrina was right, but didn’t go far enough. Tell me. Do you resent your good manners, or disparage femininity?”

“No. Femininity is simply the expression of the heart of a woman, and manners are important. As Queen, both are required of me if I’m to be respected.”

“Just so,” she said, nodding. “As well, you would respect a man more if he treats you with gentlemanly courtesy. Respect of each other’s strengths is the key to happiness between men and women.

“This is not the case everywhere: you wouldn’t care to live in Gijurad or Rabol, where they would ‘honor’ you by locking you away, denying you education, the privilege to walk the streets without an escort, and even to feel the breeze through your hair,” she said angrily, as if she were there. “They are barbarians, stunted people who exist by raiding and plundering their betters. Lacking the proper balance between men and women, they can do no better. The reverse is nearly as bad.

“A city that places feminine values above the masculine grows effeminate. Neither sex is advantaged: females within such a society have only weak men to choose from, inferior males they secretly despise, often not knowing why. A strong man will reject a woman’s dominance to seek a mate elsewhere. When the weaker men who stay behind become sufficiently saer-throttled, the city is inevitably conquered from the outside, or changed through revolution when the men have had enough, usually by enslaving their females, who find, to their shock, as they rub the brands on their thighs, that their innate feminine ‘superiority’ was ultimately insufficient to protect them.

“The proper balance is found when both men and women are free to be themselves. Our strengths naturally complement each other. Besides bringing life into the world, you and I have a much larger role: we hold society together. When we act as ourselves, we project our good natures, our love for an orderly, decent place where civilization might flourish and children can grow up in peace. Our conduct demands that men reciprocate as civilized beings. We rein in the worst excesses of male aggression, yet, because we prefer strong brave men, men are still encouraged to do those things they are temperamentally and physically best equipped to do. Be proud of your femininity, Tyra.

“But when you practice the spear, a man’s weapon, you trespass in his territory. You say to the man that he is not necessary; that you don’t need him. Could you defeat a man with a spear?” she asked as if it weren’t a serious question.

“I’ve killed two men with it.”

She frowned. “Don’t be obstinate. Without trickery or surprise, could you defeat a trained man with the spear?”

“No, but trickery and surprise are parts of a fight.”

“Listen to yourself!” she said, slapping her thigh. “Those days of fighting are decades gone.”

“You forget the time in the farmhouse.”

“By the Goddess, you are a stubborn girl! Fine. Keep the knife if it makes you feel better. The rest is worse than useless. You are a woman, a lady, and it is past time to join the honorable requirements of your sex. You would not teach the way of the warrior to your daughter, nor would you be interested in a man too cowardly or weak to defend your life. Why would you then deny a man his right, duty, and honor to defend his lady?”

“Mother…” I hesitated. That last had struck close to the heart. Franco had said those words many times in different ways. For a moment I wondered if I had asked too much from him, if I might have allowed him his way and become the woman he had wanted. No! That thought, as it always had, crashed into a wall of hatred. What Franco had demanded was to sever the link with Tyr, the man I had been and was still part of me. I would not betray him as he and I had been so foully betrayed.

Look, Mother! See what your daughter thinks of betrayal!

“Tyra!” she gasped. “Tell me, why do you hate so much?”

“Let it alone, Mother.”

And for once, she did.

***

The next morning, after breakfast, I said goodbye to Kim and Ann outside the house. The family goodbyes had all been said the previous night when Ron and Kim had taken their turn celebrating Ann’s move to Batuk by taking her out. Kim stood by Ron's side holding his hand, even now wearing the same silly well-brolled smile she’d had for nearly a month now.

“I feel as if I’m abandoning you, Majesty,” Kim whispered as I gave her a final hug.

“You aren’t,” I whispered back. “Stay here as long as you like — years, forever, if you want. I meant what I said: there is nothing for you to do in Tulem. It would please me more knowing that you’re happy than seeing you back at the palace.”

To Ann, I said, “Stay well, Ananisia. To the end, whenever that may be.”

“To the end, Dana. Don’t worry about me,” she replied, a tear in her eye. “I’m where I want to be.”

I climbed into the saddle in my Tulem split riding dress. Father and Der had already mounted, and waited for me in Eagles leathers. Father had told me earlier that they would ride with me until I had safely joined a caravan to Tulem. I waved a last time as we rode off.

“Tyra,” Father said from my right as we rode through the estate gate to the wall road, “we could be riding together longer than I first thought.” Der, who had been told who I was, grinned at me from the other side.

“Father?”

“A single woman on the road shouldn’t take any chances,” he said with a sparkle in his eye. “Caravans are sometimes not what they seem, and guards are often rude fellows.”

I laughed, delighted. “How far do you plan to stay with me?”

“All the way to Tulem. I thought that we might talk on the way.”

“I'd like that very much, Father.” We had spoken alone in the two months I’d been in Batuk, but in protecting me, he'd taken extraordinary care to make our meetings seemed unforced, and that had kept our contact brief.

Once through the Lion Gate, Der rode forward to give us some privacy.

“Your mother is worried about you. She wants to know what’s wrong,” Father said.

I sighed. I should have known I couldn’t escape my mother so easily. “She worries about my femininity. I have reluctantly concluded that I may never live up to her expectations.”

“Your mother said it was serious,” he said, giving me a look I knew too well. He would continue to dig until he found whatever he was looking for.

“All right! Mother doesn’t understand that a part of me is still furious that I was made a woman. She wants me to be her perfect daughter. I can’t. It’s as simple as that. I hope you can explain this to her.”

He chewed on that for a while. “Years ago, you told me that you wanted to be a wife and a mother.”

“And so I am. I admit, my marriage hasn’t been quite as good as I’d hoped lately.”

“Perhaps you didn’t marry the right man.”

“That is a possibility.”

“Or you haven’t tried hard enough. From what your mother says, this is about weapons practice.”

“I …Yes,” I said, knowing there was no way out of it. Mother had almost certainly put Father up to it. “That’s what started it.”

“Weapons practice seems a damn stupid thing to lose a marriage over. Something here isn’t healthy. You’re going to have to fix it or it will eat you alive.”

“Things will be changing soon enough.”

“I don’t want vague phrases,” he growled. “I need something I can take back to your mother, Tyra l’Fay,” he said, a reminder that I was now my mother’s daughter.

Standing up straighter in the saddle, I looked him directly in the eye. “When you see me again, what Mother is worried about should be resolved, at least to my satisfaction.”

“You’re being evasive, but I’ll tell that last to your mother.”

“Thank you.”

The subject, as far as Father was concerned, was closed. For hours, we talked of the old days, specific details of the fight in Alexander’s castle, the way I bought off the lords and ladies of the valley, the friendships with Lady Katrina and how she died; Kat, and especially, Stefan, where I believe his pride in him rivaled my own.

I didn’t mind speaking of the old times. Brave men had died whose deeds deserved to be remembered: I wept at Giordi’s memory, who’s sacrifice had saved me in King Bruno’s apartments, and at others. Although Batuk’s enemies, they had perished with honor. Father spilled a few tears as well. It was harder for him. As he had grown accustomed to thinking of me as his daughter, his son had faded. He never let on, but I knew. He knew who I was, of course, but his eyes insisted that I didn’t belong in the story, they told him that as a non-warrior, a woman, I didn’t deserve the honor of the telling.

I moved forward in time, when I had to learn to rule as a woman, and further, as I set up meetings to marry off the women of the valley, explaining how I found my way. Now, Father had the opposite problem, reconciling the woman I had become with the son I'd once been.

When we stopped for the evening, we were within Tulem’s borders and Father’s thick eyebrows were furrowed. As I made supper, Der had us laughing with stories of the men of Eagles, suitably toned down for my lady’s sensitivities. Der, it seemed, had no ambiguities: To him, Tyr the warrior had died long ago; I was someone else, a daughter of Eagles. I decided then what I would do.

The moment I’d been waiting for came in the cool of the late evening under the clear plains sky. After I’d scoured the plates and pans and packed them away, I brewed a pot of tea, and poured it into a thick field cup, turning the handle towards my father in the traditional form, presenting it with the slight bow of respect due a father from his daughter. Part of me wanted to cry, but it was the only way. Never again would I speak to him of battles or of the brave men I’d fought with and against. Those who fell beside me I would honor from now on in my heart.

“Father,” I said.

He nodded slowly, watching me the whole time. It was the first time I’d ever served him tea, and he knew what it meant. “Thank you, daughter,” he said gruffly as he grasped the handle.

Next was Der. Fixing another cup, I brought it to him around the other side of the campfire, where he sat cross legged in the sand, far enough away to allow a father and his daughter to share private thoughts.

Some women took a man’s protection for granted, but I held with the custom that a woman should show her appreciation. A warrior, especially an Eagles warrior, would fight and die for me if called upon to do so.

“Thank you for coming, Der,” I said, handing him the cup.

“It’s my pleasure,” he stated easily, his gray eyes flashing at me in the firelight. His warrior’s confidence stirred my natural slave center. I forced myself to remain still; my passion slave body was a slut that wanted to respond instinctively.

There was no danger of doing anything with him, though, even if Father hadn’t been there. Ketrick had put a cloud over my childhood friend when he’d accused him of helping Met. I wondered now if I really had seen Der's reflection in the window at the tavern so long ago, something I’d never told Ketrick. If Der had been watching me that night, after twenty six years I still couldn’t think of a good reason why.

The next morning, just as the sun began to rise, I stretched and rolled out of my cot. Father and Der heard me, but had the sense to stay away while I went behind a bush to give myself a sponge bath before dressing. I fixed tea while they broke camp, and within a half-hour, we were on our way.

It was late morning. Der had taken the lead, scouting the road ahead and giving Father and me distance to speak. Then he stopped and raised his right hand, pointing to the right, an area of dunes and small bushes with rolling hills behind: a good place to camp or plan an ambush. Father gestured for me to be silent.

Once we knew something was out there it was easy enough to see. A thin black stream of smoke was rising behind a mound about a mile away.

After a minute or so, Der waved us forward.

“Sharp eyes,” my father said to him. “There’s two things wrong with that: someone is burning the wrong wood and this is an odd time of day to camp.”

That was right enough. I wasn't even sure if it was a fire, more life smoldering brush. “Father, we're in Tulem. I must check this out.”

He narrowed his eyes but nodded. “It’s worth checking, but you’ll be staying behind.”

I bit my tongue at that. I was used to it from the guards in Tulem, but it galled that he considered me a helpless woman, even though he was probably right in this situation: I only had a knife and in this body I wasn’t that good with it.

“Yes, Father. You will let me know if it’s safe?” I inquired with as much grace as I could muster.

“If it’s safe, daughter.” He gestured to Der to move out and left me by a dune, just out of sight of the road.

Just like a man. But I had to be fair. If any of my guards in the palace permitted Kat to go where she might be killed or taken they wouldn’t be guards any more.

Sighing, I dismounted and settled back in the shade of leafy nopal bush for a wait, following them as they glided over the packed sand and gravel to the hillock. Once there, they split up, the dot that was my father riding to the top. Almost immediately, he rode down and met with Der, and they rode off together around the side, disappearing from view. Father reappeared soon, and waved his long spear three times, then twice, the sign for all clear and advance.

Remounting, I rode swiftly. Something wasn’t right, else they would have simply returned. Father’s face confirmed it. Already mounted and moving, he motioned for me to follow him.

“You need to see this for yourself,” he said, his mouth twisted in disgust and fury.

I didn’t waste time with words, and rode with him around a corner where two hummocks made a narrow depression about a hundred yards long.

“By the Goddess,” I whispered.

I counted four men stretched out on the ground in the unnatural poses of death, swelling in the heat of the day. Killed not too long ago, their bowel-stench overpowered the sickly-sweet smell of corruption that would come soon. Two buzzards were already feasting on one whose entrails spilled through the blue tunic of a Tulem merchant. Barrels and crates were strewn over the sandy ground, and two wagons stood at an angle, their horses slaughtered in place. I was about to dismount to get a closer look when Father stopped me with his hand.

“We’ve looked,” he said. “They’re all dead except for one behind that last wagon. Der is tending him, but he won’t last.”

“Right, Father.” I rode there and slid from the saddle to the ground.

Horribly pale from lack of blood, it was a wonder that the man still lived. Ripped through the stomach with a spear or sword, his fingers were red with fresh and dried blood; he’d literally been holding himself together. Now lying flat on the ground, with his arms to his side, Der had assumed that duty, holding his hand over the wound as best he could.

Only a spark of life remained; all his efforts seemed concentrated on his next breath. I knelt by his head and bent over him, smoothing away black hair, soggy with fevered sweat.

“Can you hear me?” I asked him softly.

His eyes opened slowly and found me. “Yes. My name is Valloran Dais,” he breathed, low enough that I had to strain to hear him. “Pretty girl … you … part of the afterlife?”

I shook my head and placed my hand to his cheek. Despite the moment, I had to smile. “Valloran, you’re not dead.”

He closed his eyes again and sagged back into the sand, and, for a dreadful moment, it seemed that he was lost.

“Hold on for a little longer! You have to tell us what happened.”

His eyes twitched a few times, opening halfway. “Bandits came two nights ago,” he replied haltingly, “… caught us asleep … left me for dead. I crawled to the fire, stirred, pushed in … jacket. Made smoke.”

“Who were they? Tell us so we may kill them.”

“About a dozen,” he panted. “They … they called their leader … Shade.”

“I’ve heard of him. What does he look like?”

“My height … long black hair, green eyes, angry. His sword…” he gasped, his air dissipating to nothing at the end.

I glanced quickly to my father, who shook his head slowly.

“Valloran! What about his sword?”

“Blood-run ... was red,” he wheezed.

I felt the full force of Der and Father’s eyes on the back of my head. As far as I knew, only Met used such a garish blade.

“Are you sure?”

“Rhadus … killed me with it,” he said, straining weakly for breath. He clung to life for a few more precious seconds, marking me while the light in his eyes dimmed, and then he could no longer, and slid peacefully into the next world. I closed his eyelids, pressed my hands together, and wept, silently asking Ashtar for her mercy.

“He was a brave man,” Der said, avoiding looking at me.

“He held on as long as necessary,” Father added, a worthy benediction from a warrior. I could contribute nothing more: it was all we knew of poor Valloran.

We covered the men so the buzzards couldn’t get them, and tracked the bandits several miles towards the northeast, where a complex series of switchbacks and canyons lay. Father and I had a long look at each other, but we said nothing; we didn’t have to: no matter who the killers were, I had my duty.
 
 

 
For those of you still with on this wild ride, I hope you liked this chapter. For some reason or other I re-wrote a great deal of it, revising, re-wording, and shading meanings, which took more time than I thought it would. You might be guessing what will happen next now — or maybe not. :)

Two, as John says, “busy chapters,” to go before the big finale. ~Aardvark