Heddas Sword.jpg

by Hedda's Sword (lit)

  * * * *

  Cianan stepped through the shadow-ferns. He selected the largest, most mature plants, the ones with dried pods hanging from the undersides of the fronds. The stalks were tough, with sticky sap that clung to his hands. Harvesting the fronds, he shook the pods loose, ensuring the next generation of shadow-ferns. "I wonder what sort of vision-quest they send a dream-walker on."

  "One for the initiated," Kikeona replied. "They are dangerous. The paths are seductive and difficult to return from."

  Yet another example of survival of the fittest. Wolf was right – hard land, hard gods. Cianan filled the bag. When he returned to the tree, Namula waited aside Kikeona. He handed the old wisewoman the bag and tried to wipe off his hands on his breeches.

  "My thanks," she said to him. "I've prepared a room for you and Hedda's Own." She turned to Kikeona. "You shouldn't keep secrets from your partner. Tell him. He will understand."

  Kikeona flattened her ears as the old woman reentered the house.

  Cianan could not penetrate her shield. "Partner? What is wrong?"

  "Nothing. Ignore her."

  "I think not." Cianan laid a hand on her shoulder. She trembled at his touch. "You have been... not yourself... for days. This obsession with getting home, like you fear we shall not return? Is it death you fear?"

  "Of course not. All living mortal things die." Kikeona shook her heavy mane. "That would be a foolish fear for a warrior."

  "Then what?"

  She glowed in the dappled moonlight. "It is foolish. Ignore me and go inside."

  "When your thoughts are tinged with sadness, with... regret?" Cianan frowned. "What would you have to regret?"

  She sighed and relented. "That I would die without family to mourn my loss. I want to know there will be family to follow after I am gone. Hani'ena thinks I am a foolish war mare, but I would like to be a mother someday. To watch a foal of my own grow up to enter the academy stables."

  Cianan's heart ached. "Why would you be afraid to tell me?"

  "Because I do not see us going home, and I refuse to raise a half-common baby here. We are partners in war. Motherhood has no place in my life. I made my choice."

  "There are always choices. I do not think you are foolish." Cianan wrapped his arms around her neck. "I think you shall make a fine mother. Always you have mothered me. I promise you, I shall get you home."

  "But our oath? How – "

  "We shall find a way. Did you have a particular stallion in mind?"

  Now she looked downright embarrassed. "Mayhaps."

  "Anyone I know?"

  "Gloreriell."

  "Dara's stallion? He is big and strong – he shall sire good foals."

  Kikeona sighed. "He is so brave, and he has handsome eyes. He said I fought well in the Shadowlands."

  Cianan grinned. "See? He is smart too. You have already caught his notice, and his admiration."

  She brightened. "Do you think so?"

  "I do. We shall return home covered in glory. He shall not know what hit him."

  "You should go inside and rest. Tomorrow comes soon enough." She nuzzled him. "Thank you."

  "We are partners, and friends. I love you. It is not a foolish dream, and I will do everything in my power to see it come true." Cianan turned and went inside.

  Namula took one look at his face and nodded. "You've spoken to her. Good. Everyone should have something in the future to look forward to. Hope drives us on. You, too, must cling to hope."

  "Kikeona's dream has a better chance of coming true." Cianan helped himself to another cup of tea.

  "Be not discouraged." She frowned at him. "You've had it too easy for far too long. Were you not the one who complained you were bored? You've gotten spoiled, young one. It does you no harm to have to work harder for true love. Mayhaps you'll appreciate her more."

  "Where is Maleta?" he asked.

  Namula nodded toward the stairs. "She's coming up now."

  Maleta appeared in the doorway, wearing clean breeches and a loose tunic. Her cheeks were flushed with the heat from the hot springs. Cianan noticed she had left her breasts unbound. They jiggled with every step, her nipples visible beneath the plain brown homespun. The breeches hugged every curve and the tunic hinted at more. He cursed as his body tightened in reaction.

  Namula chuckled. "There you are, child. Let me show you both where I've put your gear for tonight. I'm for bed. I'm not so young anymore."

  "I washed our clothes too," Maleta said. "Where can I put them to dry?"

  Namula indicated a rope stretched across the corner by the fire. "Hang them over that. They'll be dry by morning."

  After spreading the clothes, Maleta followed the old woman up a winding set of steps to the next level. Cianan followed behind, watching Maleta climb afore him. Lord and Lady, she was beautiful enough to stop his heart! Why did she downplay her femininity? Unless she deliberately hid herself from men, did not want to draw their attention to her in that way. He thought about her earlier comment about interfering with the wife-beater. Had someone in Maleta's past hurt her? That would make any woman want to avoid men. There was so much he did not know about her – and she seemed unlikely to ever share.

  In the next room up, their armor, weapons and packs were stashed in the far corner, their bedrolls in front of them. Cianan swore he could feel the warmth from the fire even up here. Because of the tree's design, the room was tiny. He and Maleta would be in close proximity, even with separate bedrolls.

  "Here you are," Namula said. "I hope you'll be comfortable. I'll see you both in the morning." She retreated back down the stairs.

  Cianan turned to Maleta. "I'll take Guard position." The stairs' side, the first to be attacked.

  "Fine." Maleta tossed him his bedroll and unrolled her own blankets along the far side. Only a few feet separated them. She didn't seem to notice, any more than she seemed to notice she hadn't grabbed a weapon to sleep with.

  He, however, was acutely aware of both. Did she trust him enough to sleep unarmed in his presence? He settled into his own blankets and watched her settle into hers. She lay with her back to him, facing the wall, but squirmed about for several minutes afore she turned over to face him.

  "I have to sleep on my right side," she confessed with a jaw-cracking yawn.

  He grinned at such an ordinary comment. She acted so relaxed around him tonight, for which he was grateful. He never wanted to see that feral wariness directed at him, not ever again. "Go to sleep."

  "If you snore, I'll poke you," she threatened with a fierce frown. Her face lightened and she smiled. Her eyes shimmered at him in the dim lighting. "Good night."

  "Good night."

  She closed her eyes and relaxed. Cianan watched with disbelief as her breathing steadied and she drifted off to sleep. He watched her sleep for a bit, but she did not seem to be troubled by nightmares. Orthia's doing, mayhaps. His own eyelids grew heavy, and he, too, drifted off.

  He stood in a mist-shrouded primeval conifer forest. A pale lady with starlit eyes and blowing silver hair stood afore him. He dropped to his knees. The Lady of Light never visited his dreams without purpose. "Lady, how may I serve?"

  "We need thy help, champion. Orthia would ask a favor of thee."

  He opened his eyes to an armed-and-armored Maleta shaking his shoulder.

  "C'mon, time to get up," she said. "Namula's getting food ready."

  He frowned at her breastplate. "Did you have any odd dreams?"

  "Nay. Did you steal my nightmares again?" She eyed him. "Because I slept with good dreams. I reunited with Jovan, and we lived in Kunigonde again."

  "Nay. I had no nightmares, either." Cianan frowned, trying to remember. "But it was odd... "

  "Well, tell me about it on the road," she said. "Day's not waitin' for us." She grabbed her bedroll and pack and disappeared down the stairs.

  He rolled his bedding and geared up. Within minutes he descended the stairs.

  Maleta set her things outside the door. Namu
la glanced up from her pot as Cianan entered the room. "Oat stirabout with honey?" the old woman asked.

  "Sounds good," he replied, handing his belongings to Maleta to add to the pile.

  "Have you considered our request?" Namula filled three bowls with porridge.

  Maleta turned to Cianan with curiosity in her eyes.

  He frowned. "You made no... " His voice trailed off. A forest in the mist ... "My dream. My Lady came to me in a dream, asking for my help." He tried to remember.

  Namula sat at her table and motioned Maleta and Cianan to do the same. Maleta began eating. Cianan still struggled to recall the details. "A successor?"

  The old woman nodded. "My time on this plane is finite. I've none to leave my knowledge to. I must find someone to take my place or Celtar and her tree die with this body. It must be a woman with the Sight, a woman of this land. Orthia told me you've met such a woman, young though she be. She'll be powerful indeed when she matures." She leaned forward, her eyes pleading, almost desperate. "You must bring her to me."

  He shook his head. "I do not have that power."

  Maleta stared at him, aghast. "You dream-walked with the gods last night?"

  "Oh, dear, did I forget to mention you should always wear gloves when harvesting shadow-ferns?" Namula clucked. "Thoughtless of me. My mind must be starting to wander."

  Maleta arched a brow. "I'm not the only one who jumps when a goddess snaps her fingers."

  Jana. Namula referred to Jana the wild, Jana the irrepressible, that free-spirited Shamaru child? Queen Tzigana's little sister, chained to an ancient goddess and an ancient tree for all time? Knowledge and power aside, they had the wrong girl, seeress or no. He could not do that to the child. He would not. "Her family shall not let her go."

  "It's a great honor to be chosen," Namula argued. "Orthia saw her in your dreams. The child would be the perfect choice. We won't force. Only mention it to her family. That's all we ask."

  "Very well. I shall ask." Cianan thought that a safe bet. Tzigana would never agree. He rubbed his hands on his breeches again, as if he could still feel the clinging sap. Anger rose, anger and a sense of outrage and indignation. He could not believe the old woman had tricked him like that, had drugged him. Did no woman in this land not use coercion and deception?

  "You are sitting across from her," Kikeona reminded him.

  Maleta kicked him under the table. "We should get going soon. We have to make Soto by nightfall."

  Namula nodded. "In exchange for delivering my message, I can tell you the ones you seek to contact in the guild are here already. You shall meet them afore noon."

  "That'll save time," Maleta approved.

  They finished their meal and went outside to saddle the horses. The day was cold, but clear. They should make good time today, Cianan thought to himself as he checked Kikeona's hooves for stones. Namula stood in the doorway, watching them prepare to leave. He glared at the old woman. "You should have told me. You should have asked."

  "You might've said no."

  "I might have said aye, but now we shall never know." Cianan tightened Kikeona's girth and strapped his gear to the saddle. "I said I shall ask, and I keep my word. But it is wrong to cage a hawk, and her family shall refuse."

  "But there are other planes to fly than this one," Namula retorted.

  Maleta walked the pied up to them, leading the two geldings tied to her saddle. She handed one of them off to Cianan. "We'll come back for the wagon."

  Namula nodded. "You'll make better time without it. It will be safe, here. Come see me when this is all over. Orthia's blessing on you both." She went back inside the tree and closed the door.

  Cianan secured the gelding's lead rope to Kikeona's saddle and swung up onto her back. "We head to Soto. We turn back to Nerthus' Abbey when we know Cary and the rest are come."

  Kikeona broke into a trot, the pied following a half-stride behind.

  "You shouldn't be angry with Namula," Maleta said. "She did what was necessary."

  "Expediency," he said, "is no excuse. You of all should be able to relate to that."

  Maleta flinched; her eyes narrowed. "That was low, priest."

  "Truth hurts," he retorted. They rode in silence for several minutes. The morning was alive with small black-capped birds with bright eyes, and white hares with large hind feet. Once Cianan thought he saw a white fox floating along the tree line. A farmhouse appeared in the distance, smoke curling from its chimney. As they drew closer he saw two bony brown milk cows in a split-rail paddock. A pregnant woman fed a flock of chickens in a pen and a young man split wood nearby.

  The man noticed them first. Cianan saw his grip on the ax tighten, Hedda's breastplate not withstanding. "What can we humble folk do for Hedda's Own?" the farmer asked, wariness in his tone.

  Maleta delivered Hedda's message without looking at Cianan. "You must come with us," she finished.

  The farmer's wife blanched as she approached her husband's side. "Will you need the mule?" she asked. Her voice trembled.

  "Nay," Cianan replied. His heart ached for these people. These were not warriors. They should not be called on to make such a sacrifice. "You may ride one of the black geldings. We have food, but bring whatever weapons you have."

  "Hedda wishes all able men to gather at Nerthus' Abbey," Maleta said. She turned to the woman. "Are there others nearby you can spread this message to? We ride to join up with a force coming from Soto."

  The woman nodded. "There is another farm over that far hill." She pointed to the north. "I can tell them. They've a lad can ride to a few others." She turned to her husband. "Let's go get your things."

  They entered their home, returning a few minutes later. He bore a bow, a quiver of arrows and a heavy boar spear. She followed, her eyes red-rimmed as she carried two wrapped bundles she tied onto the designated packhorse. "Clothes and bedding in one, and food in the other," she explained.

  The man swung up onto the free gelding, laying the spear across his lap. "Have Giselle stay with you until I return," he said.

  His wife nodded, hands resting on her belly as she watched them ride off.

  "What's your name?" Maleta asked.

  "Ty," he replied. "I've fought afore. Most of us owe the crown forty days after harvest. And I hunt." His eyes gleamed with the enthusiasm of the young. "It'll be an honor to hunt the ones who can murder sisters in their homes."

  Cianan sighed. Enthusiastic amateurs made him twitchy, but a fighting body was a fighting body and they needed all the help they could get. He pushed Kikeona into a trot, Ty and Maleta following.

  Hours passed in idle chatter, mostly Ty's. Maleta stayed quiet in his presence, riding tail as if to keep an eye on him. They stopped at another farm and were joined by Hal and Ham, twin brothers in their late teens, on a pair of sturdy mules. Each was armed with a sling and bow. Their parents stayed on the farm. The three young men drove Cianan to distraction with their incessant questions and speculations and boasting. Maleta said nothing at all. Cianan saw she now rode with her hand on her short sword and stayed well back of the group. It made him wonder about his initial impression of her, the fear-of-men that had been intertwined with her fear-of-discovery. Hedda had thrown the fear-of-discovery caution to the winds, but the other fear lingered in Maleta's eyes, in her stiff, wary posture.

  Again he considered. There were many reasons for a woman to fear men, abuse and rape foremost among them. It made him wonder...

  A familiar sound from up ahead caught his attention. Cianan ordered a halt and silence. Many boot steps, in precise double-time, and an unforgettable voice. "Aw'right, ladies! Let's move out! My granny can run faster'n you lot! Th' cap'n said move yer asses!"

  Cianan grinned. The guild was on the move. For the first time in a long while, he dared to hope again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maleta lowered her sword and staggered back from Mrow's prone body. She gasped for air and swiped at the sweat running into her eyes as Mrow lumbered to his feet. "A
gain?"

  He shook his head, his own sides heaving like bellows. "Nay, lass, I need some water."

  She nodded and followed him to the well. They headed through guild and sisters instructing Shamar's civilians in the finer points of combat. There'd already been too many amateur-induced injuries. The Shamaru and Shamari agreed Sunniva had to go, but they couldn't seem to work together. The worst injuries occurred when they squared off as sparring partners against each other. She glanced over at Cianan, watching him step betwixt yet another match.

  Off to the side, the guild captain and Mother Kitta were deep in some discussion. They waved her over. She stared at the well with longing, sighed and changed direction, stopping afore her superior. "What?"

  "We march in the morning," Captain said. "They're not ready, but we're out of time."

  "I'm surprised Sunniva hasn't come after us already," Maleta commented.

  Mother Kitta and Captain shared an amused look. "Why chase around the countryside when you can barricade the city?" Mother Kitta replied.

  Maleta frowned. "We're not set up for siege warfare."

  "Nay, we're not," Captain agreed. "But we've a plan. Your little Shamaru friend says there's a series of sewers running beneath the city and out to the river. What leads out can lead in. She'll guide a small force in to take the west gate, and they'll open it for everyone else."

  Maleta didn't like the idea of fighting in the city. Too many noncombatants could get hurt or killed. But there was no way to lure Sunniva out. She was too canny. She stared at Raven, instructing a line of Shamaru women in the art of wielding halberds, and her gaze came to rest on Cianan once again.

  He'd moved back to the archery field, where he corrected Ty's stance. As if he felt Maleta's gaze, he looked up at her and smiled.