Sisters of the Storm_Triad

by Guy Estes

  The supper had settled but the fires were still burning bright when the young girls danced for them. Afterward, Aleena sang for them, a song she had loved since she was a small girl, and even though they did not understand a word she said, they were enraptured by the almost holy enchantment of her voice. Then, one of the elders told a story, which Balazai quietly translated for her. After that, they were all ready to turn in for the night, and they would have done just that were it not for the subhuman shriek that slashed out of the darkness, a shriek that was far too close. And Aleena found it far too familiar.

  From out of the desert night and into the light of their fires came the beaked things that had attacked Aleena in that canyon.

  In they came, falling upon hapless nomads with a terrible zest and glee. The nomads, not having any furnaces, possessed weapons that were substandard, to say the least. They would have done well enough against mortal foes, but against these monstrosities, they were a sick joke. Aleena drew her scimitar, preparing to step into the middle of the fray. A beast atop a screaming elder looked up and beheld her. And then a curious thing happened.

  All activity stopped. The monsters looked at Aleena and ceased their raid. Then they began to back off into the dark, never taking their eyes from her. It took a few moments, but then Aleena deduced what was happening. She was the slayer of their mightiest champion, had destroyed him with her bare hands. They weren't about to challenge her.

  One tried to slink away while retaining his prize, a girl not much younger than Aleena herself. Aleena looked the thing straight in the eye and motioned for it to return the girl. It did not. Aleena motioned again. Still it balked. Aleena cracked her knuckles. It returned the girl and skulked away. The beasts then departed in a silence that bordered on the respectful. Aleena went to bed without a word.

  It did not take long for Aleena to regain her strength, and with it came her scholar's unquenchable curiosity. She had Balazai teach her their language, and she never stopped asking questions about the tribe's culture and history.

  "We are nothing more than desert nomads," he answered with a shrug.

  "Then why do the powers-that-be hate you so?"

  "As I told you before, for the same reason they hate you."

  "I deprived them of some pride and profit. What is your crime?"

  Balazai sighed, gathering his thoughts.

  "The Solvah Shkarr have existed for a thousand years. In that time we have weathered much oppression, but up to this point it was not terribly difficult. The prior empires, wealthy though they were, did not possess anywhere near the power of the current one. Nor were they so wealthy in ruthlessness. They made a few half-hearted attempts to bring us under to heel, but they did not have the resources to scour the whole of the Badlands. Nor, I believe, did they care to. As long as we did not interfere with them, they were satisfied. Both kings and nomads were content to go their separate ways. You seem to be a student of history, so I'm sure you are aware of the pattern successive dynasties of a particular region follow - each one seeks to be wealthier and more powerful than the last." Aleena nodded, as if everyone knew that. Balazai continued.

  "So I suppose it was inevitable that one day a ruler would ascend to the throne who was not content to leave us to our own devices. The more power the ruler has, the more power he craves. The current empire's power is based at several locations, Akhbeer being one of them. One of the rulers decided that we Solvah Shkarr posed a threat." Balazai chuckled. "How much more proof does one need to see their madness? We who have shed only the blood of those attempting to shed ours, who have aided travelers in distress, who have elevated desert hospitality to legendary status. Obviously the acts of savages." Balazai shrugged. "Ah, well. I suppose a savage in power is the last man in the world who would recognize another savage. At any rate, this madman came to power a hundred years ago, and his bloodline still possesses the throne, so his policy is still in effect."

  "And what would that be?"

  "Extermination."

  "I might have guessed."

  "Oh, that did not prevent them from taking some of us alive. They know that to a nomad, death is far more preferable to captivity. But the lunatic who started this knew no limits. His wizard even conjured up demons to ambush us and carry us off. They were a cross between a falcon and a human corpse. They stalked us through canyons and gorges, through sandstorms and moonless nights. We would sometimes hear the shrieks of those of us they caught, screams which told us these demons were well versed in the art of torture. Their great beaks tore us to pieces. Their leathery hides were immune to our weapons. All we could do was run and pray that we were not snared. Then we had to listen to those of us who were not so fortunate. I can still hear the screams echoing through the desolate canyons. So tormented. So forsaken. Some say their leader was the wizard himself, transformed into one of them upon his death, only he was much bigger and stronger. Pockets of them exist to this day, hiding and skulking. Occasionally they still hunt us. Your first night here they found us, which brings me to a question: why do they seem to have such respect for you?"

  Aleena gave him the condensed version of her encounter with the scourge of the Solvah Shkarr. When she had finished, Balazai said, "You are a very interesting girl, Aleena Kurrin. Tells me, where does a girl like you come from?"

  “Sharleah is in the province of Kerdonia, part of the Artisan League, and located on the western slopes of the Ophirees Mountains.”

  “What is this Artisan League?”

  “A confederation of provinces united by economics. The craftsmen of the league turn out some of the finest goods and services in the world. My father is a blacksmith and my mother is a weaver.”

  “So you took up one of their trades?”

  “No. Sharleah has a fine academy that turns out students who go on to serve the league in many ways. I was two years away from completing my schooling when I was taken.”

  “Tell me of this school.”

  Aleena did.

  “By the time the students are promoted to major scholar, which would be at age twelve or thirteen, we are fluent in three languages, not including our native tongue and the international trade language. Moreover, my father taught me some Dwarvish, so have a decent command of a fourth. I was never very good at math, though, but my friends Gwendolyn and Shannon both helped me get through it. Because my minor gift was that of bard, I helped them with literature, rhetoric and composition.

  “Once we made major scholar, our education changed. For probationers, neophytes, and minor scholars, the curriculum was well-rounded to give the students as broad a base as possible. Once we’re promoted to major scholar, however, our curriculum focused on our interests and aptitudes. In my case, this meant histories and, due to my minor gift, appreciation and composition of literature, poetry and song.”

  “No more math?”

  “No,” she laughed, “no more math. I would be immersed in reading and writing for the rest of my academic career.”

  Balazai could see a cloud descend over her expression.

  “What happened then?” he quietly asked.

  Aleena told him about Cormac. Tears streamed down her face as she finished recanting the loss of her first love to Balazai.

  “My life grew steadily darker after that. Despite the assurances of Cormac’s mother, I still felt somewhat responsible for his death; my ‘classmates’ probably wished to humiliate him for the sole purpose of hurting me. Cormac’s family assured me that I was not to blame…”

  “But you’re not so forgiving of yourself,” Balazai prodded. Aleena shook her head slowly. Not long after that she’d started working in Jac’s tavern.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through such a trial,” Balazai finally said.

  “Thank you,” Aleena replied, then fell silent. Finally, she said, “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

  She quietly cried herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER 14

  “…never,
by any means, should this [martial] art and doctrine fall into the hands of unrefined and low born men.” – Filippo Vadi, 1480s

  Aleena had spent a month among the Solvah Shkarr. On the one hand, she wanted to go home. On the other, she had never known such hospitality. Everything they had they considered hers. She had learned enough of their language to get along. They had provided her with a wealth of information about how to survive in the desert, such as how to find water where it seemed there was none, and how to distinguish the hostile tribes from the friendly. She had learned about desert culture, enabling her to better gauge the thoughts and reactions of any locals she might stumble across.

  When a band of slavers attacked them she naturally defended the tribe. Watching her cut down slaver after slaver, the tribesmen began to chant, "Ilyah Shkarr! Ilyah Shkarr! Ilyah Shkarr!"

  Aleena spent a few moments translating that in her mind.

  "Lady Scorpion! Lady Scorpion! Lady Scorpion!"

  Aleena justified this title by stinging the slavers until they gladly embraced defeat and fled.

  The next day they initiated her into the tribe. She had won considerable respect for herself on that first night when she'd stood up to the demon marauders, and she’d won more standing up to the slavers. Indeed, they treated her with nearly the same respect as they would an elder. Now, after the initiation, she was daughter to every elder and sister to everyone else. She had spent days wearing the ceremonial paint with deepest pride and gratitude.

  Time, however, was making itself felt, and she decided to push on.

  “I must speak to the eldest,” were Aleena's first words the next day.

  "Why so urgent?" Balazai asked.

  "Most of those slave traders survived. They know where I am, and they know who sheltered me."

  "I see what you mean. Come."

  They entered his humble tent, though it was quite luxurious by Solvah Shkarr standards. There was protocol to be observed. Aleena waited to be invited to sit, then took a ceremonial bowl of water. His Eldest took the other one, then held it up to honor Asura the Sky Father. He then tipped the bowl and let a drop fall to the ground to honor Bahna the Earth Mother. Then they each took a sip and set the bowls down.

  "What troubles my newest daughter on so fine a morn?"

  "The slaver's attack. Most of them escaped with their lives."

  "I sometimes wonder if Ilyah Shkarr is a bit too thorough in her duties."

  "My Father, they know who I am, and they know where I am. And they know who took me in. It is only a matter of time before they return. How many blonde-haired, grey-eyed women are there in the Badlands, much less the Solvah Shkarr? Even now they are stalking me. I cannot delay another moment. I must take my leave of you right now. I am truly sorry, my Father, and I wish we could part under more pleasant circumstances."

  "Our parting could never be pleasant," he assured her, "no matter what the circumstances." A wan smile pulled at his thin lips. "But I fear you are right. You must go."

  "Farewell, my Desert Father."

  "Farewell."

  She embraced them both.

  "Thank you. My debt to all of you can never be paid."

  "Nor should it be," His Eldest said. "You are Solvah Shkarr now."

  "If you should ever find yourselves in the upper Ophirees, you know where my town is."

  "Yes. Farewell, Lady Scorpion."

  Aleena turned and strode from the tent, feeling as if she was running desperately late, but she wanted to say good-bye to the rest of the tribe. She saw that they were gathered together. Then she saw the archers surrounding them and keeping them together. She turned and saw several men around His Eldest's tent with torches in their hands, ready to burn the old man out. Aleena's hand ached for the familiar heft of her scimitar. It hung just on her left hip.

  "They will be dead," a man on a sedan chair a few yards away told her in the international trade language. "Make the slightest move for your weapon and the entire tribe will be wiped out."

  Aleena forced her sword arm to relax and studied the speaker. He seemed to be the leader. In addition to being born on a litter, he had that maddeningly smug self-righteousness that seemed to be a requirement of all head slavers. Even as she watched, he applied perfume behind each ear and brushed his scented hands over his brown curls. Aleena sighed.

  "I suppose I can guess the meaning of all this," she said.

  "Can you?"

  "Yes, I can. I suppose I should be flattered. I had no idea that a total stranger would go to all this trouble just for me."

  "I have my reasons."

  "Yes, well, personally I think you need to get out more often."

  He smiled, unperturbed. "As I said, I have my reasons. We must be on our way."

  "No," a tribesman shouted. "You mustn't do this! Fight them, Ilyah Shkarr! Make the dogs earn their prize!"

  A fellow tribesman grabbed his friend and clamped a hand over his mouth.

  "No, my friend," he told the protester, low enough so that the slavers could not hear. "What she does, she does for us. How many of us would die in the battle? Make her sacrifice worth something."

  "I say, my dear," the dapper devil told Aleena, "would you be terribly upset if I killed them anyway?"

  "Be my guest," she told him, praying that she'd deduced correctly. The Solvah Shkarr’s best chance for safety would be for her captors to believe they meant nothing to her. "They've served my purpose, the miserable curs. I would have done it myself were I not so outnumbered. Death would be a vast improvement over their idea of life."

  His eyes narrowed. "Then why did you surrender to me when you saw my position over them?"

  "I had just finished trying to converse with one of the stupid beasts when I came out and saw your men. I was surprised and off guard."

  “And why did you defend them?”

  “I wasn’t defending them so much as slaughtering slave traders.”

  "So you do not mind if I kill them?"

  "I would pay money to see it."

  He spent several moments deciding while Aleena waited, moment after agonizing moment, to see if she'd gauged his character accurately.

  "Oh, it would be a waste of perfectly good arrows," he finally said. Aleena tried very hard to appear neutral and suppress her enormous relief. "Besides, it is much too hot to put forth the effort. We will go."

  A man approached Aleena, chains and shackles jingling in his hands. She'd rather let him bind her wrists with a cobra, but she stood still as slaver steel once again took possession of her. She looked over the gathered tribe, trying to find Balazai and hoping to appear casual. Some of the nomads were frowning at her, but then she spotted Balazai and His Eldest, and they were smiling at her. They understood what she'd meant with her scorn. Aleena mouthed a single word to Balazai, and he caught it.

  “Survive.”

  They managed one last glimpse at one another before she was led away, and Aleena was already plotting an escape. She paused, though, to silently bid good-bye to her adopted desert kin, the Solvah Shkarr.

  * * *

  The young witch emerged from her trance, her brow slightly furrowed. She’d had another vision of Anlon some time ago, but now she suddenly had one of this girl. In her visions of the girl, the name Aleena Kurrin bobbed to the surface of the witch’s perceptions. The witch knew Aleena was Chosen the instant she saw her. Aside from being Chosen, how were Anlon, Aleena and the witch connected? Where was this all going? The witch knew there was a destination, but what was it? Unlike Anlon, Aleena did not chill the witch’s soul. Indeed, she left the witch feeling somewhat relieved.

  Easy, she cautioned herself. Remember what happened the last time you allowed yourself to hope.

  She sighed, feeling like a young eagle standing at the edge of the nest, staring out into the vast space that awaited her, her wings young and strong, but untried.

  You know this impasse cannot stand.

  Even thoug
h the ancients said multiple Chosen were certain doom, the witch resolved to undertake further divination to solve this riddle. Wherever this was going, whatever was to happen, she was a part of it. She needed to know.

  * * *

  Aleena sat belly deep in mud and sewage, her knees drawn up to her chest and her chains weighing her down. All she could do was to sit there and either watch the centipedes crawl in and out and across the mud walls or stare up through the bars that comprised her ceiling. She had been in this hole for two days. They had denied her any water, and her food, brought by grinning guards, was dumped down through the bars to plop into her aromatic surroundings, rendering the food inedible, so it sat there and teased her hollow body. This was complimented by the constant sound of dripping water. The same jeering guards who brought her food occasionally dumped buckets of sewage and waste from the butcher down upon her. Never had Aleena known misery on such a profound level. However, she stubbornly refused to weep, even though she deeply wanted to. Once she'd mastered that urge, Aleena let them see her hold her head up high. Through it all, dehydrated and starved, hair slicked back by and matted with offal and excrement, Aleena's large grey eyes shone, bright against her fecal surroundings.

  The man responsible for this, the brown-locked man who had led the hunting party, was named Marcus. Aleena never heard a family name or title, but that was irrelevant. As long as she had a name to go along with the face, that was all she would need.

  Marcus' business to which she'd been brought was only a few days from the Solvah Shkarr. As they approached what he informed her would be her new home, Aleena saw an immense building that seemed to be elliptical in shape, and it sat next to a sizable city. She had no idea what purpose it served, but several lesser buildings were joined to it and, under extremely heavy guard, she was taken to these.

  "You must think me a supremely dangerous person," she'd needled Marcus as she was transported under such heavy security.