A Woman Warrior Born

by Alexander Edlund

  *****

  Dawn found the storm past, and Breea in the hold with Taumea. She told her friends of dancing the storm, and of drawing down the lightening.

  Taumea said, "Forgive me if I fail to ask a dance next Harvestsong."

  Breea glowered at him, then let a trickle of power flow into the weave that kept pain from him. His eyes widened, and he said, "Ambard will not know what has struck him."

  His words cut open her heart, but she ignored his statement by saying, "You need some fresh air."

  She and Valiena helped him on deck, and sat with him on coils of rope sheltered from the wind. Birds wheeled in the sky, and bright tatters of cloud sailed over. Breea stared without seeing any of it. Would Ambard still love her now? What if he feared her?

  Taumea knew his words had wounded Breea, and he asked Valiena with his eyes to say something to take Breea’s mind off her lonely heart.

  Valiena told of her desperate ride across the plains warning her folk, though in the telling she made it rather more wild than desperate so as to thrill and not sadden. When she was done, the three sat watching the ocean. Taumea fell asleep with his head on Valiena’s shoulder.

  From above came, "Sail ho! Starboard bow!"

  Prah and Etrya emerged from the cabin and went up to the upper deck.

  A few minutes later, the voice above said, "Fisher buss out of Iplock. She raises greeting."

  Etrya called, "Answer well and give them luck."

  Breea watched as a series of small varicolored sails were raised on the topmast. She peered over the railing at the shifting sea, but saw no ship.

  Nearby, two crewmen repairing a sail started talking in Yasharn about Iplock taverns, and whether the captain would get a good price for the cargo. Breea wondered what Etrya carried in her holds. At least one was empty and housed the wounded. That meant that either Etrya hadn’t time to fill the space, or didn’t need to fill it.

  A square sail appeared for a moment above the swell. Breea walked up the stair to the upper deck and watched as Halisheen overtook and passed a round-hulled ship that heaved and breasted its way through the waves. Despite being stained and battered, the vessel had a rotund, jolly look, accented by the cloud of seabirds soaring above.

  On the third day crossing, ships became more common. In the afternoon, Halisheen passed five others, two racing her and losing badly. In the west, the sun set behind a mountain range that seemed to rise straight from the sea. A dark shoreline came into view beneath the fastness of the mountains. Breea climbed onto the bowsprit for an unbroken view. The bay they sailed into was scattered with ships that were becoming difficult to see in the fading light. She could smell the land, and it sent shivers of excitement through her. A distant galley drum came to her ear, but it was gone by the time Etrya ordered the anchor dropped. Taumea, leaning on the railing, stood with Valiena to look at the pale lamplights of Iplock. Breea raced down from the bow, and gave them both a hug.

  The crew put the longboat in the water, and loaded it with bags and gear. They lowered Taumea to the boat on the hanging seat. Prah wore a thick leather shirt that could pass for armor. He seemed to have no other weapon than the staff, however, and Breea thought no more about it. Excitement drove her to lean toward the land as six crewmen dipped oars and rowed through the night water. Ships anchored all around spoke quietly in soft creaks and lapping voices. Lamps hanging from the aft and bow of each glowed across the bay like gently bobbing stars.

  Over the water she heard music, angry shouting, dogs barking. As much as she wished to be on land, she did not like the idea of traveling through another city. Closer, she could see people moving in the cobbled streets and smell foulness in the water. The streets ran straight up a gentle slope to the crest of a fortified hill.

  The cries of a child in pain rose from a warehouse to the south. As the boat slid up to a quay where a dozen other small boats like it rocked and bumped the dock, Breea jumped out, nearly colliding with the man who was greeting them.

  "Breea!" shouted Etrya.

  Breea stopped abruptly.

  "It is an old trap," said Etrya. "Thieves use it to draw in the unwary and good-hearted. The harbor guard, if not bribed, will take action. The child is a thief, and in no danger."

  Breea felt chagrined, and moved herself to be more relaxed. Etrya looked back at Valiena helping Taumea out of the boat, and waited until they joined her, then guided them up the dock and into the town. Three of her crew followed with saddlebags and other gear. The rest remained with the longboat.

  The wharf buildings were wood and stone, one or two stories tall, with gently sloped roofs of clay tiles. Everywhere were armed men in red shirts and black trousers, some with sashes across their chests. Prah and Etrya ignored them, and passed the overflowing wharf taverns as quickly as Taumea could walk. Not a few of the soldiers looked at Breea and Etrya with keen interest, but a glance at Prah caused them to look elsewhere.

  Higher in the city, they passed through a city wall through an open, unguarded gate. Etrya turned down a side street among stone houses with grand facades. Using two massive keys, she unlocked the door of one, and they passed into an unlit and musty hall.

  Moving slow for Taumea, they went deeper into the house, and found a bed for him. The sailors built fires in a few hearths, and found some candles. Etrya dismissed her men to various duties in the town. Promising to bring food, she left with Prah.

  With a candle, Breea explored the grand house. Dust was everywhere, coating marble floors and wood fixtures. The place echoed like a cave.

  The front door slammed, and she whirled.

  "Out!" said Etrya. "Out the back!"

  A window shattered. Breea ran to Taumea’s room, her haste blowing out the candle.

  "Quick now!" said Etrya, helping Valiena with Taumea.

  Breea grabbed her saddlebags, and they rushed toward the back of the house. The front door shuddered beneath blows.

  In the garden behind the house, Taumea was gasping as he struggled to run. Breea touched his arm, and released her boundary. Strength flowed through him. Shouts and the pounding of boots rounded the house.

  Before Breea could act, Prah turned to meet the soldiers. A casual motion sent his staff spear-like into the face of the nearest, killing him instantly. In the space of two heartbeats, three more went down, each from a single, bone-shattering strike.

  "A Kale! It’s a Kale!" screamed a soldier, and the survivors fled. Soldiers charging from the other side halted in a bunch.

  Taumea passed through the garden’s back gate, Prah walking after. He shut and barred the gate, then shadowed them through the gardens around the next mansion. Folk came to the windows to see who was running through their grounds.

  Another garden door led to a stable. Etrya, Breea, and Valiena ran to occupied stalls. Prah shut the door to the garden, and looked at the height of the wall. It was not high enough. Men could climb it.

  Shouts announced the arrival of soldiers behind the garden wall. Bodies slammed against the door, but its latch held. None thought to try the latch, and ax strikes began. Hands appeared on the wall. Men pulling themselves up saw Prah waiting, and dropped back down.

  A voice roared from the other side, "On! Over! Or I’ll gut ye like a fish! He’s only a man! Over the wall! Over the wall!"

  The door broke apart, and a soldier came through with a bellow. Prah’s staff scythed through the air, shattering helm and skull, showering those behind with blood, brains, and bits of skull. Prah maimed another two through the doorway, then broke hands where they gripped the wall to come over.

  Breea helped Taumea up behind Valiena on a mount, and then swung up on her own. The horse balked, not understanding signals without a bridle.

  "Prah!" called Etrya from the street.

  He walked backward, twirling his staff. Soldiers flowed over the wall and through the door, but kept well away from him.

  Breea managed to get her horse faced to the street and urged it out. Prah followed at a run,
and they fled down the lamp-lit street. Etrya kept the speed to a lope. Prah grabbed the mane of Etrya’s horse and ran with them.

  Etrya took a winding path through the city, then down dark, shadowed streets until Breea lost all sense of direction. There was no sound of pursuit. In a foul-smelling alley, they dismounted. A door opened and was filled with a giant man, candle lantern in one fist, a massive saber in the other. Firelight outlined his form from behind.

  "Out of my way, Baeg," ordered Etrya.

  The man thrust the lantern at her face. He grunted, and stepped back. Breea followed the others into the big room. It reeked of smoke and dirty men. Weak light came from a few guttering candles on tables, and one fireplace. The room was packed. A hundred wary eyes in greasy, weather-etched faces watched them enter. Many hands strayed to blade hilts.

  Etrya stood before them, legs planted, hands on her hips. A murmur of recognition passed like a breeze across the chamber. She whipped off her gold linked belt and swung it around to crash onto the table before her. The men there glared at her.

  "A link for every man who’ll blood their sabers on the Yasharn who’re taking my ship."

  Eyes glinted like the belt.

  "The buckle to he who kills most."

  As one, the room rose.

  Etrya looked at Prah.

  "To me!" he bellowed, and ducked back out the door. The men surged after.

  Keeping out of their way, Breea stood against a wall. Etrya was talking with a woman who stared intently at Breea and her friends, nodding. The room had cleared, and Etrya walked over to Breea with the woman.

  "Kolley will guide you to my cousin. Show him this ring, and he will keep you safe. I sail for Twinport Portage." She hugged Breea. To Taumea and Valiena she said, "Fare you both well."

  Valiena said, "Opalah bless you, Etrya. Bright ways."

  Taumea gave Halisheen’s captain a deep bow.

  Chapter 9

  You Live, Remember?