by R A Oakes
“What will you do if you meet her?”
“I suppose I’ll fight her if she gets in my way.”
“That’s my girl,” Balder smiled.
As Corson and Balder considered their futures, Chen and her warriors galloped across the countryside. Feeling apprehensive, Chen recalled the warrior woman who’d arrived unexpectedly and thought, Besides me, there’s only one woman I know who can fight like that, and I sure hope the wildcat who showed up today wasn’t Corson.
Gradually, however, feelings of exhilaration began forcing aside her worries. For some strange reason, seeing people killed or wounded excited Chen. Having been repeatedly abused during her teenage years and now in her early 20s, the woman suffered from horrible, recurring nightmares. But after seeing others suffer, she felt better and the nightmares retreated. Yet they always came back, sometimes reaching out beyond the night and invading her days.
Again wondering if Corson was the mystery woman, Chen thought, If that was Corson, then Balder must have been there. And I hope he wasn’t injured, the last thing I need is my best friend angry with me.
The two friends hadn’t seen each other in years, not since the night Corson had threatened Chen’s abuser at sword point. Things were a little better after that, but Corson had been banned from the castle.
But again, Chen’s worries were shoved aside as her inner demons surfaced and took control of her. Thinking about the men who’d just died, her sense of exhilaration returned. The inner darkness receded, her horrendous nightmares evaporated and she was able to breathe.
“Oh, it feels so good!” she shouted feeling cleansed. “It feels so very good!”
Chapter 11
Striding down the castle corridor, Chen’s hips swayed as her long legs propelled her forward with crisp, sensuous authority. Armed guards were posted at every hallway intersection as well as every doorway and stairwell, and the warrior woman took pleasure in watching the guards’ eyes following her. Not that she had any interest in them, Chen just liked seeing the power she had over men. They looked at her with a mixture of desire, wonder and awe.
Inspired by their stares, her whole body began to sway like a reed bending and yielding in a soft breeze. Her slender, well-muscled arms moved in languid harmony with her willowy figure and strong, supple legs. Adding to Chen’s aura was her short, dark-brown hair and tight black-leather outfit. She was a vision of beauty and danger, an intoxicating mix of sensuousness and forbidden fruit.
There were men who, upon doing more than just admiring Chen, found themselves with a slashed hand and missing fingers. Her sword was as quick and deadly as her body was soft and inviting. In short, Chen was more trouble than she was worth, except to Lord Daegal who seemed to revel in her fits of anger. And there were those who suspected the warlord was guilty of encouraging them.
Chen was a dangerous creature with a short fuse that was always set to ignite at the least provocation. She relished any opportunity to vent her spleen on an unsuspecting victim, though how anyone living in the castle for even a few days could be unaware of her hellish temperament would be a mystery.
But today, if she recalled correctly, was the meeting of her uncle and some of his allies from the further reaches of his domain. The word “allies” might be a bit misleading. There was a tense alliance at best with these provinces and The Rock, which was a name often applied not just to Lord Daegal’s castle but to his lands as a whole. With a face like flint and a heart to match, Lord Daegal reminded his subjects of a massive boulder whose weight could not be resisted and whose path could not be blocked. No matter what, it just kept coming.
However, in the very furthest reaches of his domain, some still harbored the illusion of autonomy. Being blinded by the distance between their strongholds and the warlord’s castle, some felt safe enough to dream of independence, or at least more self-rule, which happened to be the subject of today’s meeting.
Chen strode past the warriors guarding the entrance to her uncle’s private quarters and entered a great room so long and wide that an accomplished soldier would find it difficult, if not impossible, to throw a spear from one wall to the next.
Thirty nobles were seated around a massive table forty feet in length. Each sat in a high-backed chair that was four inches thick and rose above the occupant’s head and shoulders helping to protect him from an attack from behind. Not an unlikely possibility, given the tense atmosphere.
As Chen approached, she noticed an enormous man wrapped in a lion-skin robe, the animal’s claws hanging from a gold chain around his neck. The necklace bore witness to the nobleman besting the lion with only a knife for a weapon, something Chen found commendable, but his fierce demeanor bore witness to a defiant attitude, and this Chen found unacceptable. The warrior woman had little use for her uncle personally, but any attack on Lord Daegal’s authority was an attack upon herself and her own freedom of movement within the realm.
Sitting on each side of the lion killer were two hulking younger men who were obviously his sons given their bulk and personal appearance. One son wore his own claw necklace and seemed to be the older of the two. All three had beards that gave their lean faces a wolf-like appearance. They were wolves, Chen decided, and they would have to be treated as such.
She noticed that as she approached her uncle, the “wolves” seemed unaware of her presence, although she had captured the attention of everyone else. Chen took personal offense to this.
The warrior woman was so displeased, she leaned up against Lord Daegal partly draping her thin, sensuous body over him and putting a slender arm luxuriously around his thick neck. Lord Daegal was a bull of a man with arms as thick as fence posts, thighs as thick as tree trunks and a back as strong as an oak. Chen allowed her own beauty to compliment and enhance her uncle’s regal appearance. They were a pair.
“Lord Daegal,” Lion Robe began, “it’s nice to see this display of family affection, but what I’d like to see even more is you recognizing a local ruler’s right to control his own troops. You draft our finest young men into your own personal army leaving us with insufficient warriors to deal with our neighbors who seek to encroach on our land from areas outside of the boundaries of your domain.”
“My domain has no boundaries,” Lord Daegal said.
“A domain’s boundaries begin where its armies lack sufficient strength, your lordship. You must allow us enough men to defend our own interests.”
“There are no other interests, only your lord’s interests.”
“Then, my lord, make our need for local sovereignty one of your interests!” Lion Robe shouted.
“Local rule is not as important as the overriding concerns of the larger picture!” Lord Daegal shouted back.
“Our crops being stolen, our women being raped and our children being kidnapped by raiders from neighboring lands, are these not part of the bigger picture?” Lion Robe asked.
“Poachers will always be a local problem,” Lord Daegal explained. “Still, we can’t lose sight of the goals I’ve determined are in the overall best interest of everyone.”
“And those goals are?”
With venom dripping from her voice, Chen said, “Those goals are whatever we feel like having them be.”
Lord Daegal’s warriors posted around the walls of the great room became fully alert when they heard Chen’s voice, which seemed almost like a whisper. If the nobles had no idea what was coming next, the warlord’s guards did. They’d seen storm clouds forming over Lord Daegal’s niece since she entered the room.
Chen looked at her uncle who gave her a knowing, conspiratorial smile. The warlord took this wild, reckless, angry warrior woman off her leash. Whatever happened next would happen. Lord Daegal relaxed in his chair leaning back against the thick wooden boards. Slouching to the left, he slung an arm over the chair’s armrest, putting his right leg over the other armrest and settled back to watch the show. Now his warriors were in a state of total readiness, their hands itching to reach for their s
words, but they also knew the opening act of the show belonged to Chen. They’d have to wait for their master’s nod before stepping forward to defend his honor.
Chen leapt up onto the huge table like a silken cat prowling for vermin. She was graceful, elegant and not hard to look at, and all of this lulled the nobles into dropping their guards. They took their lead from Lord Daegal who obviously was expecting some form of entertainment. For all they knew, a beautiful dancing girl was strutting down the runway in front of them. Looking up at her, the nobles had quite a view. They could see the young woman’s thighs, bottom and the luxurious curve of her back. But none of them watched her eyes.
However, it was the exact opposite for Lord Daegal’s warriors, none of whom looked at the warrior woman’s body. All were riveted to her eyes, her sword and the knife sheath strapped to her right calf muscle. Chen moved down the table slowly and hypnotically stopping in front of Lion Robe. She lifted her sword’s scabbard tilting it behind her, sat down on the table, spread her legs wide dangling them over the edge and almost straddled the man. She leaned back suggestively and let out a sigh.
Unconsciously, the men closest to her on both sides of the table rose part way out of their seats. The lion stood and began climbing onto the table. Stepping on the seat of his chair with his left foot and putting his right knee on the table, Lion Robe placed a hand on one of Chen’s thighs and gave it a squeeze. The warrior woman felt soft and warm to the touch.
Wanting both hands on her, he climbed completely onto the table shoving her onto her back. Straddling her, the lion wrapped his right arm under her upper back gripping her right shoulder and placed his other hand on her chest. Chen smiled seductively making him feel younger than he had in a long time. His worries momentarily drifted away, and Lion Robe even
thought of a solution to the problems between his province and The Rock. He would ask Lord Daegal to give this woman to him in marriage. The nobleman’s wife had died in a raid a year ago and he thought, What better way to cement my relationship with Lord Daegal and further my interests than for this woman to bear me sons? Maybe someday one of our children will ascend the throne.
Snuggling close, Chen kissed the left side of Lion Robe’s neck. He smiled feeling reassured that he’d guessed correctly, this young woman had chosen him for her mate. Grimacing as Chen gave him a hard love bite on his neck, the lion began smiling again as she kissed the spot tenderly before biting him even harder. The lion laughed and thought, This one likes it rough.
His excitement over future prospects made Lion Robe feel dizzy. Sweat formed on the left side of the nobleman’s neck, and he began feeling lightheaded. Am I getting sick? he asked himself feeling strange. Maybe I’m too old for this young girl. But if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter. My sons can help me with her.
Glancing at his eldest son, the nobleman was surprised by the alarmed look on his face. Turning to his other son, the lion was shocked upon realizing the boy was close to panicking. Feeling himself beginning to black out, Lion Robe’s breathing was labored and sweat began pouring down the left side of his neck and chest soaking his shirt. Wiping his face on a sleeve, he was confused by a red stain the sweat left on his shirt.
As if happening in slow motion, Lion Robe watched as Chen pulled away from him, stood up on the table and did a back flip arcing gracefully through the air and landing solidly with both feet onto the floor.
Next, the nobleman saw his eldest son racing towards Chen with his sword drawn. Why’s he fighting her? Lion Robe asked himself. She’s such a lovely girl and will make a good wife. But I’m so very tired. Maybe I’d feel better if I rested a little.
Looking down at the tabletop, he noticed it was covered with blood. Now that’s odd, he thought glancing around to see who might be injured. Someone must need help.
Lion Robe’s younger son wrapped his arms around his dying father holding him against his chest. The lion looked up and saw his son’s shirt was covered with blood.
“Who hurt my son?” he gasped trying to reach for his sword, but his arm wouldn’t move, nor would it ever again.
The lion didn’t realize it, but Chen hadn’t only bitten him. She’d nicked his carotid artery, the main source of blood to the brain, with the tip of her knife. He died thinking only of his youngest boy and worrying who had hurt him.
Lowering his father onto the tabletop, the son took his hand off Lion Robe’s wound. No amount of pressure had been able to staunch the flow of blood, and his father had died in a matter of minutes. Looking over to where his older brother and Chen were dueling with swords, the warrior woman appeared relaxed and confident. In contrast, his brother was quickly becoming frustrated and furious with himself having been unable to land an effective, decisive blow.
What neither son knew was that as slender as Chen was, her muscles were stronger than the toughest rope. And her skill with a sword was uncanny.
The eldest son, the new head of the family, held his sword with both hands lunging and taking a vicious swipe at Chen who gracefully dodged it. No matter how hard the young lion tried, he couldn’t pin the warrior woman down. His skill with a blade was excellent, but his speed and cunning seemed to mean nothing when confronting this adversary. Chen actually smiled at him making him feel foolish and inept. She made him feel like less of a man. And she made him terribly angry.
But most of all, she got him to make a mistake. Out of frustration, he lunged at her once more thrusting his sword directly at her chest and putting so much energy into the move that when Chen sidestepped it, he couldn’t stop himself. The warrior woman could have ended it right then by striking the back of his neck but slashed the back of his knee instead, cutting down to the bone.
Hobbling about as best he could, the young lion appeared undeterred in his desire for vengeance. He kept hacking at her with his sword but was cutting only air. Chen humiliated him further by thwacking him with the side of her sword across his face, shoulder and rump. She was knocking him around at will.
Bored with this cat and mouse game, she looked over at the youngest lion and smiled an invitation. This family was not known for their intellectual prowess. Smarter men would have realized they were beaten and would have dropped their swords, declared allegiance to Lord Daegal and thrown themselves on his mercy. Smarter men would have lived to fight another day, but the lions were not smart men.
When the youngest son entered the fray, most of the nobles knew it was already a lost cause. Some called out to the young lions telling the sons they’d satisfied the obligation to avenge their father and that their family honor was intact. No one wanted to witness the coming bloodbath.
However, still not grasping the severity of the situation, the youngest lion swung his sword at a woman so superior to him in battle that she easily parried the blow and with a quick flick of her blade severed the tendons in his left elbow. But she still allowed him to keep his sword arm.
The older brother tried to rush Chen, at least as best as a one-legged man could, and got a thrashing for his efforts. She hit him hard on the forehead with the flat side of her sword almost knocking him out.
The youngest lion stepped in between his older brother and the sensuous killer. It was a mistake. He was no match for this woman. The lions didn’t think ahead, but Chen thought through her maneuvers much as if she were playing chess. Each action was to prepare for another action, and then another.
All the nobles waited for the warrior woman to make a kill. Looking at the youngest lion and seeing he was not standing properly, Chen knew she could throw him off balance and cut him down if she wanted to. But she did something even worse.
Turning to the nobles and shrugging her shoulders, the young warrior woman said, “This is too easy.” And she walked away from the lions declaring them unworthy of being taken seriously.
Chen cut them down through indifference, mortally wounding their feelings of manhood and depriving them of their self-respect. And worst of all, she allowed them to live.
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nbsp; The warrior woman walked over to the dead lion’s body and stripped it of the necklace of lion’s claws and in doing so declared him unworthy of the honor. Maybe the lion he killed had been old, sickly or both. It hadn’t been, of course, but her disrespect implied it.
Chen walked back to the two brothers who braced for a final assault. But she approached slowly and with the tip of her sword cut the necklace of lion’s claws off the older brother as well. The youngest lion made a move to attack the warrior woman, but his brother restrained him.
Further inflicting psychological havoc upon the sons, Chen went over to their father’s body removing a massive golden ring from the dead man’s hand. It bore the family crest and was a symbol of authority in their home province.
She tossed the ring to the older brother, but it fell short of his outstretched hand and rolled along the floor bumping up against his foot. The family crest had touched the ground, as Chen had intended, and the insult was unbearable. The youngest lion bolted away from his brother dying the instant he came within range of Chen’s sword.
The remaining young lion, the last in a line of provincial rulers that had spanned ten generations, put his father’s golden ring on the index finger of his left hand and in doing so seemed to grow in size and stature. Looking at his father’s corpse and his fallen younger brother, he turned and lifted his sword holding it in front of his face as a tribute to the other nobles.
“She will not have the pleasure of killing the last of my father’s line,” the young lion declared taking two steps forward and falling on his own sword.
The warrior woman smiled and looked at Lord Daegal to see his approval. It was Chen’s only mistake of the evening. Cleverly having feigned his death, the young lion had turned his right side to the warrior woman sliding the sword between his left arm and chest as he fell.