Sword-Sworn

by Jennifer Roberson

  I was heading back to the trio of palm trees when I met Del leading her gelding and Nayyib’s bay. “Did you get him settled all safe in his own little bed?”

  Del, pausing, shot me a hard glance. “You might have a little sympathy for him.”

  “I just risked my life for a drunken kid! Why should I have any sympathy for him?”

  “Umir could have killed him.”

  “Umir wanted his book back too much for that.”

  “Which you gave him.”

  “In exchange for the boy. The one you were so all-fired determined to rescue. Well, he’s rescued. He can stay here and sleep it off, and you and I can get on with our lives.”

  She seemed startled. “I don’t want to leave him here.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s drunk.”

  “He can sleep it off.”

  “What if he gets sick?”

  “I never died from it.” I paused. “Neither did you, when you got drunk on Vashni liquor.”

  Color flooded her face. “We are not discussing me.”

  “Maybe we should.”

  “Why? This has nothing to do with me!”

  “He’s not a stray kitten, bascha, or a puppy with a broken leg, or even an orphan sandtiger cub—though you might not be so thrilled with the idea of saving baby sandtigers, now, after our last meeting with one. He’s a grown man; he can take responsibility for his own binges.”

  Del’s eyes narrowed. “You are jealous.”

  I sighed with long-suffering patience. “I think not.”

  “If you weren’t, you’d have nothing against helping him.”

  “Rescuing him isn’t helping?”

  “He spent days nursing us both after the sandtiger attack, and weeks with me at the Vashni encampment.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “Yet you want to just ride off and leave him here to fend for himself when the gods know who might try to rob him.”

  “Sometimes that’s what happens when you get drunk. It’s called a learning experience.”

  “And I’m learning a little more about you just now, aren’t I?” She clucked to the horses and started to move them out. “Do whatever you like, Tiger. I’m staying here with Neesha at least until morning.”

  I watched her disappear between two wide horse butts as she led them down the path. I found the image extremely appropriate, in view of her behavior.

  Aloud, I said, “I think this was the most ridiculous argument we’ve ever had.” I patted the stud’s face. “And we’ve had a few.”

  Being a very wise horse, he did not comment.

  Nayyib was sound asleep when I got back to the little encampment. Del had unloaded gear and set out his bedroll; he lay sprawled upon it on his back with one bent arm flung across his eyes. I contemplated the rest of him, which was partially hidden beneath his burnous. But the legs were free of encumbrance, and one shoulder, and a forearm. Not a big man, not like me, but not small, either. His coloring was Southron, including the big brown eyes that he used to such advantage, curse him. A good-looking kid, no doubt, if still a tad soft around the edges; and certainly closer to Del in age than I was. Maybe that’s why she wanted to mother him. She couldn’t do it to me.

  Not that she’d ever indicated she wanted to.

  Scowling, I turned my attention to the stud, pulling off pouches, saddle, and blankets. I had thought to ride on after a rest, believing the oasis too obvious if Umir sent anyone after us or if there happened to be sword-dancers in the vicinity, but there was not much time before sundown. This place offered water, a little shade, safety in numbers.

  Or maybe just more witnesses than usual.

  I hobbled the stud, grained him, draped the halter-rope over one of the spiky bark segments sheathing the bole of the nearest palm tree. Someone else had built a modest fire ring not far from Nayyib’s unconscious body, but we lacked kindling for it, and I didn’t feel like going on a lengthy hunt for wood. Over the years pickings had become very slim near the oasis, so that most people on wagons carried wood with them if they wanted a fire, and a pot of embers they kept alive by feeding it twigs regularly. Del and I didn’t pack that heavy; if there was no wood for a fire, or circumstances warranted it was safer to go without, we didn’t bother.

  I didn’t bother now. I just set up my own little area with upside down saddle, drying blankets spread next to it, and bedding unrolled. I shed the harness and sword and set the blade within reach. Then I lay down in a posture very similar to the kid’s, if without the accompaniment of liquor fumes, and let myself drift.

  Del came back a little later. Eyes closed, I listened as she finished untacking her gelding and Nayyib’s, hobbled them, told them to behave themselves, then crunched over to where the kid lay.

  “He’s alive,” I remarked.

  She didn’t answer. She just arranged her own bedding—closer to him than to me—and settled down.

  “We’ll spend the night, all right? Make sure he’s alive in the morning. Then we’ll go.”

  There was no reply. Swearing under my breath, I rolled over onto one hip and pulled the corner of a blanket over my face. With one hand draped across the hilt of my sword, I went to sleep. If she was so concerned about the kid, Del could keep watch for any stray sword-dancers looking to get some of Umir’s reward money.

  I woke up to morning when I heard the sound of a body moving nearby. My hand locked around the sword hilt, lifted the blade even as I sat upright—and discovered Nayyib staggering off from our little camp with the frenzied focus of a man in dire need of relief. Since it was very likely his head, bladder, and belly were ready to burst, I hoped he found it in time.

  Dropping the sword back onto my bedroll, I arched backward to stretch my spine and shoulders. Del, coming out of the cocoon of blankets between me and the kid’s bedding, squinted at the early sunlight. Not far from our camp a danjac brayed and was answered by another, which began a whole chain of ear-shattering morning greetings from one end of the oasis to the other. No one could have slept through that.

  Del finger-combed hair off her face as I crawled out of bed and stood. Across the oasis other bodies were doing the same, murmuring to one another as the day began.

  I bent and picked up the sword. “I think the kid’s got the right idea—” I yawned. “—though I don’t believe I’m in quite the same distress. Be back in a bit.”

  Nodding, Del gathered up horse buckets and headed for the spring. Everyone carried water to their animals first thing in the morning, since to take livestock to the spring would form a milling mass of thirsty, impatient animals all insisting they deserved to drink first. Much safer to do it this way.

  When I got back to the camp, I found Nayyib standing near his bedroll, staring at mine and Del’s as if he had no idea who they belonged to. He heard me coming and turned sharply. Momentary alarm faded.

  “Oh,” he said.

  “Yes, oh. It’s us. Or did you forget what happened yesterday afternoon?”

  “I think I have forgotten all of yesterday, not just the afternoon.” He scooped up a bota, unstoppered it and took a long pull. The last mouthful he turned and spat out. “Yeilkth,” he remarked—or something like it. He backhanded excess moisture from his jaw and looked at me. “What happened?”

  “We rescued you.”

  “Oh.” He nodded vaguely. “Good.”

  Near-black hair stood up in clumps all over his head. Stubble darkened the hollows beneath his cheeks, enhancing the steep, oblique angles of the bones above them. He had the look of a slightly disreputable but appealing young man coupled with boyish innocence down to perfection. But the honey-brown eyes, I saw with a stab of satisfaction, were bloodshot, and his color was slightly off.

  “Bright day,” I commented cheerfully.

  Nayyib squinted.

  “Feels like it’ll be a warm one.” I set down the sword, then gathered up my bedding and began to shake it out.

  Nayyib very carefully sa
t down on his own and squirted more water into his mouth, then soaked his hair and let droplets run down his face.

  I spread my blankets, began rolling them up. “You probably won’t feel much like riding today, huh?” He scrunched up his face thoughtfully as he slicked hair back into the merest shadow of obedience.

  “Probably better if you stayed here, waited another day.” I tied thongs around my bedroll. “No reason to get in a rush. Del and I’ll make our goodbyes and head on out.”

  That got his attention. “Head out?”

  “We’ve got business to attend to.” I set the bedroll by my saddle, checked the condition of the saddle blankets. Dry. “Del and I.” Just to make it clear who the “we” meant. “I imagine you’ve got things to do, too.”

  “Not really.”

  Figures. “Well, I imagine something will come up.”

  Del was back with the buckets. Nayyib immediately stood up, took a somewhat wobbly sideways step to regain his balance, then gallantly offered to assist her.

  She took one look at his face and smiled. “No, but thank you. Tiger can help me. Why don’t you sit back down—or lie down—and rest?”

  Recognizing an order disguised as casual comment, I took one of the buckets from her. “He’s a little worse for the wear this morning,” I remarked cheerfully as she and I hiked over to the horses. “But he’ll get over it by tomorrow, and then he can be on his way.”

  Del set the bucket down in front of her gelding. “Why don’t we have him come with us?”

  Startled, I nearly tripped over my bucket as I put it down in front of the stud. “What for?”

  “He said he wanted to take lessons from you.”

  “Yes, but I never said I wanted to give them.”

  “But that’s what you’re going to do. Give lessons. Remember?” She patted the gelding’s neck. “The plan is for you to resurrect Alimat and take on students. At least, that’s what you told me. Has that changed?”

  “No.” Though I wasn’t certain when it might come to be, since we were a bit busy trying to keep me alive.

  “Then you’ve got your first student in Neesha.” She grabbed the bucket, shoving the gelding’s nose away, and lugged it over to Nayyib’s horse.

  “That sounds like a very tidy arrangement—from your point of view—but maybe I’m not ready to start lessons yet.”

  “Why not? Aren’t we heading to what’s left of Alimat? Couldn’t he help us rebuild it?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Nayyib and saw him lying on his bedroll with an arm draped over his eyes once again. I lowered my voice. “What is it with you, Del? Why do you care so much about someone who’s practically a stranger?”

  Her face was set, though her tone was pitched as quiet as mine. “I told you, he helped me when I was ill. I would have died without his help.”

  “Does this mean we have to adopt him?”

  She cut her eyes in Nayyib’s direction, then stepped close to me. Since Del is six feet tall, you tend to notice when she gets that close. “Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind, Tiger? That you’d rather he didn’t ride with us because you don’t want a good-looking man my own age spending time with me.”

  I ground it out between my teeth. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I like it the way things are. You and me. Just you and me. It has nothing to do with the fact he’s a good-looking kid with eyes that can likely get any woman to spread her legs for him with the first puppy-dog glance and who just happens to be your own age.”

  A wry male tone intruded. “Really?”

  Del and I both turned as one. Nayyib stood three strides away, legs spread, arms folded against his chest. “I wasn’t asleep—or unconscious—and I’m not deaf. I don’t particularly care to eavesdrop, either, but when one hears his name mentioned, one tends to pay attention.” His brows arched up as he met my gaze. “Do you think I really can get any woman to spread her legs for me?” He touched a finger to skin below one eye. “With these?”

  I said, “Not the way they look today.”

  His rueful grin was swift, exposing white teeth; at least he could laugh at himself.

  “Maybe by tonight,” Del said thoughtfully.

  Outraged, I glared at her.

  “Really?” Nayyib repeated, sounding more than a little hopeful.

  “Really,” Del confirmed.

  “This is ridiculous,” I announced. “We’re standing here talking about how this kid can get women to sleep with him when there are any number of people who want to kill me?”

  Del seized the opening. “Which is another good reason for him to come along.”

  “Why, bascha? He’s not a sword-dancer. I don’t think he’d be much of a challenge.” I glanced at Nayyib. “Hey, I’m telling it the way I see it.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. But if you taught me, maybe I could be good enough to provide something of a challenge. I do have some skill, you see… though actually you never have, have you? Seen my sword skill.” He shrugged. “So I believe you’re making assumptions with no evidence to shore them up.”

  “Stay out of this,” I suggested.

  “Why? It’s about me.”

  “Because you’ve already proven you’re unreliable,” I retorted.

  “How has he proven that?” Del demanded.

  “Hoolies, bascha, he got drunk while he was a prisoner!” Del’s disdain was manifest. “That’s your evidence?”

  “I got drunk,” Nayyib said, “because Umir felt I might know some things about you that he wanted to know. Something to do with a book. But I didn’t know anything about any book, nor do I know anything about you—except what everyone in the South knows, and Umir already knows all that, too.”

  “What does that have to do with you getting drunk?” I asked, failing to see any point.

  “Because after it became evident that beating me wouldn’t gain him his information, he tried another tactic. He had a supposedly sympathetic servant slip me a jug of—something. I don’t know what it was, but it was certainly more powerful than anything I’ve tasted before. And while I lack your vast experience with liquor—you are old enough to be my father, after all, and thus you have the advantage of significant additional years—I have made the acquaintance of it in various forms.” He shrugged. “It made me very, very drunk.”

  Del was furious. “Umir had you beaten?”

  I was beginning to be intrigued in spite of myself. “Did you tell him anything?”

  “No, because you arrived before he could ask me anything. But it would have gained him nothing anyway. I don’t know anything more about you, or whatever this book is.”

  “The Book of Udre-Natha,” I said, “is a grimoire. It contains all manner of Things Magical: spells, incantations, conjurations, recipes for summoning demons, notes made by men who studied it for years, and so on and so forth. Pretty much anything you want to know about magic is in that book.”

  The kid had the grace to look stunned. “And you gave it to him?”

  “Gave it back to him,” I clarified, “and yes, because it was the only way to get you free.”

  Nayyib looked somewhat diminished, losing the cocky stance as he stared at me in surprise. “You gave it to him for me?”

  “I did.”

  But confidence reasserted itself. “Why didn’t you just ride in there and take me? Without the book. I mean, you are you. Umir couldn’t have stopped you.”

  “He might have.”

  “Stopped the Sandtiger?”

  “I’m eminently stoppable,” I told him. “Permanently, even. What, did you think I was immortal?”

  His chin rose and assumed a stubborn tilt. “You’ve never yet been killed.”

  “Well, no, since I wouldn’t be standing here involved in this ludicrous conversation if I had been. But ‘not yet’ doesn’t mean ‘never.’”

  Del said, “Which is another reason Neesha should come with us. So ‘not yet’ doesn’t bec
ome ‘now.’”

  I stared at her. “You really want him to come along.”

  “I’ve said that several times, I believe. Yes.”

  “Fine.” I stalked past the kid. “Get your sword.”

  He turned. “What?”

  “Get your sword.” I bent and picked up my own. “Let’s see just what kind of skill you have that I haven’t seen. And then maybe my assumptions will be proven by evidence.”

  Nayyib was aghast. “Now?”

  I smiled. “Why not?”

  His mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. “Because… now is not a good time.”

  “You don’t always get to choose your times, Nayyib-Neesha. Let that be your first lesson.” I indicated his bedroll and pouches. “Your sword.”

  “I can’t,” he said faintly.

  “I thought you wanted me to teach you.”

  His color was fading. “I do.”

  “Well then?”

  “Because now… because now—” He swallowed heavily, looking pained. “—I’m going to be sick.” He turned, staggered two steps, bent over—and promptly suited action to words.

  “Gee,” I marveled, “I’ve never had quite that effect on anyone before.”

  Del scowled. “Are you happy now?”

  I grinned. “Yep.” Particularly since it’s hard for anyone, even a pretty kid like Nayyib, to look particularly attractive to a woman while he’s bringing up the inside of his belly.

  She picked up an empty bucket and slung it at me. “Go fill this up. The horses need more water.”

  I caught it, laughing, and took it and my sword with me to the spring, whistling all the way.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  SOME WHILE LATER, Nayyib presented himself to me. He had washed, dusted himself off, neatened his hair. His eyes looked better, and his color was also improved. I had readied the stud and now occupied myself with splitting alla leaves and applying a new coating of oil, waiting for Del to finish tacking out and loading the gelding. It was taking a suspiciously long time, and when Nayyib stopped in front of me and drew himself up, I knew why.

  I sighed and assumed a patient expression.

  He didn’t beat around the bush. “I would like to come with you.”