A Woman Warrior Born

by Alexander Edlund

Etrya’s orders were spread in near silence person to person throughout the ship. More sail appeared, and the sound of waves lapping the hull became prevalent. Breea looked behind them and saw two thin lines of foam pale on the water.

  Etrya looked up at the sails, and adjusted the wheel in Prah’s hands. He did not seem to notice yet kept the bearing. She made a sign to her first mate, who spoke to a pair of crewwomen standing ready. They ran forward, gathering others, and vanished into the forecastle. They emerged lugging ballistae and a miniature catapult. The ballistae were mounted on the railings of the forecastle and rear deck. Tied at each were two baskets brimming with long arrows. The catapult was lashed to the deck behind the wheel, and a basket of round pots hung beside it.

  Breea felt for the first time what Etrya was risking for her. The woman stood to the right of the wheel, head raised to the sails as though listening to them.

  Taumea whispered to Valiena. She went down the steps and into the cabin. She returned with the three Limtirian bows, and all five of their quivers. Taumea strapped on his and walked over to Etrya, moving with ease across the gently tilted deck. Breea had yet to release her hold on the railing since they left the dock. This journey revealed more and more of Taumea. First that his grandfather bred horses, and now that he had sailed. Breea wondered if he’d fought as a boy in the sea battles between Rana and Isswarn.

  Breea let go the railing, testing her balance, then walked over to Etrya and Taumea.

  Etrya was saying, "There are three patrol galleys. They make better speed rowing than we can in this wind. If they see us, they will sound horn, and the two at Scrib Point will row out to trap us in the bay."

  As though in answer, a low horn sang across the water from the south. Everyone on the ship turned to the sound. A drumbeat rose out of the dark there. A short while later, a deeper tone responded from the southwest. In that direction, a light flickered.

  "Scrib Point," said Etrya. She looked ahead into the night sky, and Breea felt the captain extend her will. The wind obeyed, and the ship creaked in answer.

  It was not a weave as Breea knew weaving. She listened, and felt a pull in her chest as though Etrya were calling to her. The call grew, and Halisheen heeled. Breea caught the railing for balance, and executed a boundary as the flame within rose to meet the wind. Taumea nocked an arrow. Breea followed his gaze to where a pair of pale patches appeared, vanished, and appeared. Oars tearing the water. The beat of the galley drum doubled its rhythm.

  Etrya drew breath and closed her eyes, reaching further into the wind. Overhead, a hole had appeared in one of the lateen sails. It was followed by another, lower. A splintering crack came from the direction the forecastle. Prah looked to the first mate, who called to the crew. Men and women ran to the port crossbows and began cranking the weapons to arm them.

  The wind gusted and Halisheen shuddered as Etrya’s raised hand began to tremble.

  Breea braced herself against the rail, and nocked an arrow.

  A topsail split and tore. More holes appeared, and enemy ballista arrows struck hard into the hull, but Etrya’s crew waited. A flame appeared on the bow of the galley and soared toward Halisheen, only to fall fifty feet short. Taumea shook his head at the attempt.

  Breea jumped as the railing split open beside her. A ballista bolt had embedded itself in the wood. Prah shouted, "Kill!" and the ballista released. The patrol galley was close but falling behind, having misjudged Halisheen’s speed. The enemy vessel turned to cut Halisheen’s passage.

  A second fireball leapt from the prow of the galley, was caught by Etrya’s wind, whipped forward, and smacked against Halisheen’s prow. The resulting burst of flame was wiped away by water and spray from the bow.

  Breea was able to make out figures on the forecastle of the galley, and adjusting for Etrya’s gale, started loosing arrows.

  Crew lit wicks on a clay pot and loaded the catapult. One took the wheel, while Prah aimed the weapon. The galley was almost upon them, and Breea saw no way to escape. It seemed so close, moving at least as fast as they. She could see its metal-tipped ram cleaving the water. Fearful, she emptied a quiver at the ship, and started on her second.

  Prah fired. The orb of fire flew up and landed with an orange burst amidships. Cries of alarm carried across the water. A cheer went up from Halisheen’s crew as the galley gave up the chase.

  Etrya dropped her arm. "We will face two more at Scrib Point. Help me draw the wind."

  Breea put her arrow away and handed her bow to Valiena.

  "Your way is not weaving. I do not know how."

  Etrya placed a hand on Breea’s shoulder. A faint glow of warmth flowed.

  "Feel?"

  Breea nodded.

  "Breathe into me."

  Breea put a hand on Etrya’s shoulder, and released one of her boundaries. Etrya clenched her jaw, eyes widening in pain. Breea moved to take her hand away, but Etrya clamped a hand over Breea’s. The captain touched the center of her chest with the fingers of her other hand, and her eyes went distant.

  Wind sang through the rigging, strong and sure, blowing through Breea’s hair. Halisheen creaked and rushed through the water. Ahead, the beat of galley drums came over the wind.

  Breea’s heart crawled up her throat as the ships bore down on one another, head on. Forward ballista on both vessels fired, and crew on both ships cried out as spear-like arrows flung them back like impaled dolls.

  When Halisheen and the galley were only fifty feet apart, Etrya called out, and Prah spun the wheel. Halisheen swerved aside, shattering oars in succession as the ships passed. Taumea and Valiena drew, aimed, and loosed. Two figures on the opposing ship went down. The couple loosed again and another pair of galleymen fell. Flames erupted on the galley decks as crew from Halisheen threw firepots.

  Taumea vanished from the railing. Breea turned to see him lying on the deck, body propped at an odd angle by the ballista bolt that had passed most of its length through his left shoulder. Valiena dropped her bow and scrambled to him.

  Breea broke her contact with Etrya and dropped to her knees beside her friends. Valiena was there, white as death, holding his head. Prah called out. A crewwoman came running, knelt beside Taumea, and with a knife began carving off the head of the spear-like arrow. Breea drew a dagger, and in one swipe sheared through the arrow’s thick haft. They rolled Taumea onto his side, and the woman gently pulled the arrow from his chest. The holes in his body bled in thick streams, running down his chainmail. The crewwoman fished around in the wound with her fingers, pulling out a few mangled pieces of chainmail, then stuffed the wounds with a wad of moss and other things. The bleeding slowed.

  "Hold him," the woman said, indicating with a vertical hand that Taumea was to be kept on his side, and ran down the stairs to others who were calling through the darkness.

  Valiena moved her body next to Taumea’s to brace him on his side. Behind them the second galley drum carried across the water. Breea leapt down the stairs and ran into the aft cabin. She snatched the healing weave translation from her bags, grabbed a lantern, and sprinted back on deck.

  Arrows and ballista bolts ripped through the sails, and the wind gusted fitfully as Etrya struggled to call the wind. The galley was gaining.

  Breea set down the lamp, pressed the parchment to the deck with her hands, and tried to listen. It took three tries, but she managed finally, executed two boundaries, and began to weave. Etrya faltered in her wind calling as Breea began to work the essence. The wind returned to its natural direction, and Halisheen slowed to her former gentle pace.

  As Breea wove, heat burned under her skin, and a blue mist formed around Taumea. Sweat dripped down her face and into her eyes as she struggled to feel the intricacies of the weave she worked. Using his own essence, she tied off the weave and he sighed, face relaxing. The mist soaked into him, and she felt his breathing deepen, heartbeat settle. The blood oozing from his packed wounds stopped.

  "We pass the point," said Etrya. She looked up at the s
ails, gave a few orders, and said something to Prah. He adjusted the wheel. Etrya took Breea’s hand, lifted her to stand, and put it back on her shoulder. Wind sighed, filling the sails, and Halisheen surged forward. They stood together until Breea’s initial fire was spent, and the wind faltered.

  Etrya asked, "You have more?"

  Fearful, Breea stared at the captain. In starlight, Etrya’s face was haggard, yet her eyes burned fierce, strong. Breea released her final boundary.

  Wind howled in the rigging and ripped the top off the near waves. Spray exploded off the bow, only to be whipped away forward. A topsail spar cracked. Rigging and rope fell toward the deck, tangling in shrouds and stays. Ripped sails fluttered and a piece of the spar hit the deck with a crash. Prah bellowed orders, and crew moved to control the mess.

  Heat warmed Breea’s skin, but closing her eyes, she held the flame in check without a boundary. It was difficult, but she focused all her will on keeping the flow steady.

  A time later, she heard Etrya whisper, "Enough."

  Breea gratefully wove a boundary. The two women, leaning against each other, sank to their knees. With the heat gone, Breea shivered. It was difficult to breathe. A weight seemed to have settled on her chest. They rested their heads on each other’s shoulders, bracing each other against the movement of the ship.

  Etrya straightened, looked for pursuit, but the galley was no longer visible. She checked the sails, then led Breea down two stairs and into a hold as wide as the ship. The air was close and filled with the smell of blood. Hanging from beams were ten or more hammocks with wounded men and women. A few casks and bags were stacked and tied in corners. Lamps swung from beams.

  Braced against the movement of the ship; Valiena stood beside Taumea, holding his hand. Breea hugged her, and they nearly toppled as the ship heaved.

  Etrya moved about the hold, looking to each of her wounded crew, talking to those who were awake. She watched Taumea’s breathing for the time it took Halisheen to breast two swells. The captain looked at Breea, and with a tilt of her head asked Breea to follow, then walked wearily up the stair.

  Breea followed her on deck and into the aft stateroom. Inside, Etrya lit lamps with a candle she took from a swinging wall bracket. She looked exhausted, and leaned against a wall. Worried, Breea put a hand on the captain’s arm.

  Etrya smiled wearily and said, "It will pass. It is the price for wielding the breath."

  Breea knew the truth of this, and they both sat on a couch on the down-tilted side of the room.

  "Will you show this weaving to me, Breea?"

  "I know very little."

  "More than I."

  "I will show you."

  Etrya beamed like a girl, then asked, "What did you do for your friend?"

  "It is a mending weave. It improves healing and takes away pain." Breea looked out the rear windows at the black water, and thought of the thing she had created when trying to heal Ajalay. That weave had done more than give comfort. "It can do more, but I do not know how."

  "Will you do what you can for my crew?"

  Swallowing her fears, Breea nodded.

  They returned to the hold, and as Etrya watched, Breea wove the pain-killing weave into each of the wounded crew. Two, who were merely badly bruised, got out of their hammocks and returned to duty.

  For the final few, Breea had to release all her boundaries. Even then the weaves were faint, and she walked in a haze of exhaustion.