Warrior's Woman

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by Johanna Lindsey


  He didn’t answer, but surprisingly, he did do as she suggested. Yet he was smiling in a very pleased way as he turned toward the stream, and Tedra could guess why. The farden warrior liked the idea that she’d been concerned about him. She, on the other hand, didn’t like it at all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sha-Ka-Ra was not what Tedra had anticipated. Perched on a flat plateau high up the side of Mount Raik, it was reached by a steep, winding road with barren hillsides on either side of it. This made the town ideally located for defense, especially with a solid mountain face behind it, yet she was relieved to see no high walls surrounding it, so obviously defense wasn’t necessary. She hadn’t been there long enough to consider that defense might simply be disdained.

  Tedra got to see Sha-Ka-Ra from a distance, for it was visible as soon as they left the forest, flat cultivated land stretching for several miles before it. She could judge its size, which was impressive, and the types of buildings, all only one or two stories high, except for one. Smack in the center of the town was a white stone castle, for Stars’ sake, with some round sections, some square or rectangular, but all seeming to be of different heights and shapes, as if each room inside had to be unique unto itself. A square tower in the center was the tallest section, spiral-roofed with a crenelated walkway at the top. It likely commanded a view of the entire countryside clear to the Bolcar Range, and maybe even beyond.

  Tedra had seen computer-simulated castles, created from the Ancients’ detailed descriptions of such dwellings from their own times, but nothing like this magnificent barbarian structure that towered over the town like a benevolent guardian. Likely it was cold, gloomy, and dreadfully primitive inside, but that white stone gave it an impression of warmth and welcome from a distance.

  It could only be the residence of the town’s shodan, so Tedra was delighted by the expectation that eventually she would get to see inside this primitive marvel, for surely she would meet with the lordly leader to discuss trade and the hiring of his warriors. But right now, as they approached the first buildings at the entrance of Sha-Ka-Ra, she was feeling nothing but nervous dread to be facing people again, to have them see her as she was, her wrists bound before her, her hair in wild disarray, her feet and legs bare, wearing only a farden scrap of fur. This was not how she had envisioned entering her first town on her first discovered planet, though she had to admit she was going to make an impression anyway, just not the right one.

  The warriors who had returned before them must have given notice that something of interest would be coming along soon, for it seemed the whole town was turning out to watch Challen ride slowly down the wide main street. In windows, in doorways, in small and large groups standing about, there were barbarians everywhere. And if she had thought Challen’s small band of warriors was unique in height and brawn, she was now shown otherwise. All the men of Sha-Ka-Ra were the same, give or take a half foot in height, and the same golden-to-brown coloring prevailed, too, in both hair and eyes, and this in both men and women.

  Her first sight of the women she found of particular interest. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t quite such blatant femininity portraying an image of softness, shyness, helplessness, their thin, scarflike gowns and cloaks floating around them in sections only adding to this image. Many of them might have the height for a Sec, but there wasn’t a firm muscle or aggressive bone among them. And children! Stars, it had been so long since Tedra had seen children—in fact, not since she herself was a child. Yet here she saw dozens, of all ages, some held in women’s arms, some holding the hands of warriors, some older boys even sporting swords. She stared with as much curiosity as they did at seeing a black-haired, aqua-eyed foreigner.

  “What think you of Sha-Ka-Ra, woman?” She wished he hadn’t asked. She saw clean streets lined with trees and gaali stone posts, orderly marketplaces where goods and foods were sold or traded, a lovely green park dotted with shade trees and a small pond where children cavorted. Houses bore beautifully carved arches, large glass windows of different shapes and sizes, some with railed balconies or roof decks open to the sun, and each had its own grass yard, its own garden and stable.

  The town was civilized but still primitive, the golden-skinned people handsome, wearing beautiful materials and jewels, yet also still primitive. Every man wore a sword, be he merchant, craftsman, or warrior; every woman and child were accompanied by a man, not allowed to venture forth alone even in the safety of their own town. So how did Tedra answer him, a man who had shown these people’s attitudes to be the most primitive of all? Next to Kystran, this was the dark ages.

  “Your town is ... well, it’s lovely, of course, open, sanitary, much more than I expected.”

  “Why do I sense constraint in your answer?”

  “That’s merely surprise. Remember, I was expecting caves. And at least your women aren’t running around in animal skins like you men.”

  That was unfair. The zaalskin leather of his tight black bracs was so expertly conditioned, it could have come out of a factory. The men in town wore the same, but with shirts, or to be more precise, a vest-like garment that was sleeveless in deference to the weather, fell just below the hips, and was merely wrapped and belted closed so that a deep V was left to show off the large round medallions they all seemed to favor. Which brought to mind . . .

  “What is it, a warrior thing, that you men go out to face danger nearly naked, but wear more clothes at home?”

  “The less restriction the better.”

  Didn’t she know it, but she said, “You might not buy this, but most warriors, soldiers, or whatever you care to call fighters prefer a little protection in the way of armor or long-range weapons. It tends to increase life expectancy somewhat.”

  He chuckled at her dry tone. “Such warriors must then be lacking in skill.”

  “Oh, great. Conceit before preservation. I should have known.”

  He ignored her sarcasm this time. “We carry shields to war or raid. That is enough.”

  “You people war on each other?” But she answered her own question. “Yes, of course you must. How else would you gain the captives you mentioned, those poor creatures that your rules demand you bind up like you have me?” The bitterness was back, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “I should be grateful,” she added. “At least the rule doesn’t say naked and chained. Our own Ancients used to do that, drag the defeated through the towns in such an ignoble fashion.”

  “So too do we.”

  The color drained from her face as her eyes scanned the crowds so avidly watching her arrival. “Are—are you going to do that?”

  “If such had been my thought, kerima, it would have been done already.”

  She swung around to look at him in surprise. “You’re breaking that rule for me?”

  “You are not a normal challenger loser. Never before has a woman been such.”

  Now if that didn’t beat all. “So you couldn’t break two rules to let me arrive free of restraints?”

  “And leave the Sha-Ka-Ran in doubt of what you are to me?” he replied.

  “Oh, sure,” she said in disgust. “We certainly wouldn’t want to leave anyone in doubt. They might think I’m from another planet, after all, here to improve the quality of their lives if they’re interested.”

  “What they would think is that you are a claimed woman—mine. No other thing would occur to them.”

  “Not even that I’m a free woman under your protection?” she demanded.

  She thought she had him there, but he disabused her quickly of that notion. “A free woman would not be seen in public dressed as you are. She would insist I supply her with the chauri of my household before she was brought into town.”

  And he’d do it, too, which showed her more clearly than anything else could the difference between a free woman of this world and a claimed one, who couldn’t get away with making demands like that any more than a captive could, and she was lower than them all.

&
nbsp; Chagrined, she heard her tone turn surly. “Have you people never heard of public announcements? A single statement from you would clarify what I am.”

  “Is this what you would like me to do?”

  She started to say, “Of course,” but his reasonableness gave her pause. And then it occurred to her that he still didn’t believe anything she’d told him about herself, that all she was as far as he was concerned was a challenge loser, and that was what he was being magnanimous in offering to announce, even after he’d told her how challenge losers were scorned and treated worse than captives.

  “You really are a jerk sometimes, warrior,” she spat out before looking stonily ahead.

  “Because I tease you? Announcements are made only for concerns of war, raids, or the safety of the town. They are never made for the sake of clarifying the status of a woman.”

  “Because we’re so farden unimportant?”

  “Because a woman’s status is of concern to no one but her protector and his household.”

  “That’s not exactly true in my case, but I’m not going to belabor the point. Let me ask you this instead. What if one of these warriors you’re parading me before likes what he sees and wants to offer me double occupancy?”

  “Double what?”

  “The equivalent of a man and woman sharing their life together. The Sha-Ka’ari didn’t have a name for it because all their women are slaves, but you must call it something when two people join up for exclusive sex-sharing.”

  That got a laugh from him, which she didn’t appreciate. “Yes, we have such unions. But you are bound as a captive would be, and captives are rarely offered such union.”

  She had a feeling this was the reason he broke only the one rule for her. He didn’t want to be bothered by offers for her that would require the explanation of her true status.

  “So I don’t keep harping on this, why don’t you give me the whole of it for once? Sorting out these subtle little differences between your women is driving me nuts, especially the difference between claimed and captive, which only seems to be the matter of a farden rope about the wrists.”

  “A woman claimed is one who had no protector. Is she offered for, she becomes a free woman with all rights returned to her. A captive is one who is taken from her protector; thus is her stay to be considered only temporary.”

  “Why?”

  “This should be obvious, woman. If she is desirable enough to be taken captive, it is almost a certainty her true protector will seek her return, either by theft or by purchase. Thus would a warrior think long and hard before offering for a woman who is likely to be stolen from him, whom he must then steal back again if he still wants her, and such can go on indefinitely, year after year.”

  “You mean you mighty warriors would rather play tug-of-war with the poor woman than settle the matter with swords?”

  “Women are not fought over, kerima. ”

  “Oh, excuse me. I keep forgetting how unimportant we are.”

  “Warriors have enough reasons to fight without adding—”

  “Forget it, Challen,” she interrupted coldly, though she wasn’t certain why his words upset her. “Explanations aren’t going to improve on that statement. Even we Kystrani, who think nothing of sharing sex with a different partner every day, still occasionally fight over a woman, or a man, for that matter. Not to the death. That would go against the laws of Life Appreciation. But we get the matter settled. So I commend you for having conquered such a basic emotion as jealousy. Few other cultures can say the same.”

  If she hoped he would tell her she had somehow misunderstood, she was doomed to disappointment. He said nothing more, so she didn’t either, brooding instead on this unusual revelation. From what she had observed so far, it could well be that barbarians lacked many of the more frustrating emotions suffered by the humanoid species, such as anger, jealousy, disappointment, exasperation. And if that were so, then mightn’t they also lack some of the nicer ones—such as love? Did they have living down to the animal instinct of survival, procreation, and nothing more? But they did possess humor, a purely human emotion. She clung to that thought.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tedra’s mood perked up a bit when they made a turn and there at the end of the new street was the white castle. It was set behind high walls of the same white stone, with a wide arched gateway spanning the street and presently open to the public. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up, for who knew when she’d find another?

  “Why don’t we stop by and pay our respects to your shodan before you take me to your home, Challen? I’d really like to meet him.”

  “Why?”

  The question was a mere formality, since they both knew he already knew the answer. So she didn’t feel she had to spell it out, just offer reassurance.

  “I promise I won’t mention a word about my origins, trade deals, or mutual benefits. I just want to meet him.”

  “Is your promise as good as your sworn word?”

  “Good enough,” she replied indignantly, annoyed to have her integrity again questioned. “I’ll even swear to be a model of Kan-is-Tran womanhood, obedient to the letter.”

  “For that alone I would grant your request.”

  “Very funny,” she retorted.

  He must have thought so, for he was chuckling as they passed under the arched gateway. Tedra ignored him, her interest caught by the goings-on inside the wide walled-in yard that circled the castle, and her first close-up glimpse of the castle itself. It really was a spread-out conglomeration of uniqueness, with different-shaped rooms or buildings sitting one on top of another, with square or round towers separating or flanking them, or simply open spaces between that could be roof decks or upper courts. The castle climbed, almost in pyramid fashion, with the tallest, conical-roofed tower at the center.

  There was a long rectangular building at the front of the castle that faced the gate, with a flat, crenelated roof that could be considered battlements. Six wide steps stretched across the whole front of this building so they could be climbed from any point, but they led only to a single set of double doors made of, if she wasn’t mistaken, Toreno steel.

  Likely there were other ways of getting inside such a large structure, but Tedra didn’t see them right off. The doors were closed. Two warriors stood at attention on either side of them, and this was where Challen rode to. But other people who had come through the gate, either on hataari or driving vehicles pulled by large beasts of burden and laden with foodstuffs or goods, were all heading around toward the back of the castle.

  There was a stable in the front yard, with a large fenced and partially shaded area beside it that contained a dozen or so unburdened hataari feeding from big troughs. Tedra actually recognized a few, or thought she did—Tamiron’s animal, for one. But she was almost surprised into not mentioning it by her first sight of a small man coming quickly across the yard to them. He wasn’t really small, just not warrior material by any means. Nor did he wear leather like a warrior, but a thin white material in both pants and shirt that looked cool and comfortable, but was otherwise unremarkable.

  This could be no other than a Darash male of the servant class Challen had mentioned, and one who apparently worked in the stable, for it was the hataar he was after. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t behave in a cowed or servile manner either. Challen got a nod and a smile from him. Tedra didn’t even get a curious glance, bare legs and feet or not.

  She found that unusual enough to ask Challen, “He’s not interested in women?”

  “In Darash women, yes,” the warrior replied easily. “All others are forbidden him.”

  “So he doesn’t bother to look. Smart of him, I suppose, but does that work both ways? Are Darash women forbidden to warriors?”

  He grinned quite unrepentantly as he said, “No.”

  “It figures,” she said with disgust. Then, watching the servant head back toward the stable, she noticed those other hataari again. “Tell me something,
Challen. You had to come here anyway, didn’t you, to check in or whatever?”

  “It was necessary I come here, yes.”

  “Couldn’t you have just said so?”

  “You seemed to prefer making bargains, kerima. ”

  “Sneaky as well as a jerk,” she mumbled, only to get another chuckle out of him as he took her elbow and escorted her up the stairs.

  Neither of the two sentinel warriors moved to open the double doors, but this proved unnecessary, for one side was opened from within before they were reached. The two warriors must have recognized Challen, since they didn’t question his business for being there or anything. They didn’t say a word, but, like the servant, offered him a smile and a nod. Unlike the servant’s, their eyes were all over Tedra until she passed through the doorway, making her feel things were back to normal. Then every thought went right out of her mind with her first look inside the castle. Castle? Maybe the place looked like one from the outside, but inside it was more like a farden palace.

  She was in a very wide, very high-ceilinged entrance hall that was as bright and airy as the outside. A blue carpet ran down the center, about a dozen feet wide, and on either side of it were shining, white marblelike floors. Walls that were barely walls but great open archways were also on both sides of this hallway, revealing rooms beyond spread with long, backless couches, low tables, small flowering trees in great urns, and tall open windows accounting for the airiness and light. Dining or gathering areas, she guessed, but the reason they were divided? Segregation of the classes—or the sexes?

  Tedra was about to ask Challen when she became aware that he was being greeted by the man who had opened the door for them. With a warrior’s height and dress, but much older than any she had so far seen, he bore a marked resemblance to Challen and was as incredibly tall; he had the same aggressive chin, the same strong nose and dark eyes, eyes so dark she still wasn’t sure if they were brown or black. Only the hair was different, shorter, and not Challen’s rich gold, but a chestnut hue.

 

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