by Bryan Fields
I started to shake my head, but the idea took root and started spreading. “Three months there, three days here. It could work. I guess I could live with a bunch of hairy guys for a few months.”
“Hairy girls, too,” she said. “Dwarven women grow beards as well. The married ones have rings braided into their moustaches, so leave them alone.” She grinned at me and wiggled her eyebrows. “They’re very pretty to look at. The Stonewall order records their life accomplishments with face and body tattoos.”
“Oh, yay, hairy Suicide Girls.” I shook my head to get rid of the image. “I don’t think I could get performance-ready with a bearded woman. The thought does not appeal.”
“I doubt you’d have the strength after a day of training,” Rose said. She brushed my hair back and added, “I think it will be good for you. I can manage on my own for three days. I can come get you any time if something changes with your mother. And I very much want to see what you will be when you return.”
My inner geek grabbed on to the idea’s roots and ran around jumping and shouting. Real weapon training with real Dwarven warriors? How could I not geek out on that? I’d done my part with the Loseitall, and the investigation didn’t need me anymore. Thain was still an issue, but Rose was hardly defenseless. And, deep down, I needed to do something. I kissed Rose’s forehead. “You win. I’ll go.”
Rose smiled. “Dragons always win. I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”
I scooped her up and carried her up to the bedroom. “So, what’s this place like? Some lofty mountain retreat surrounded by snow and ice all year round?”
“Well, it is on a mountain,” she purred. She kicked the door shut, and I decided the details weren’t that important.
Chapter Eight
Blood on the Sand
My first impression of Stonewall was sunshine, sandy beaches, and enough dusky maidens to fill a Gauguin exhibition. The beach ran east to west, ringed by large hills carved with farm terraces. Most of the buildings were cut and fitted stone topped by a thatch roof. They sat far back from the shore, with each building elevated on a stone platform. Major buildings had stone bridges linking them, three and four stories up. I assumed flooding was an issue from time to time. A single, half-mile-high peak dominated the bay, looming over all the lesser would-be mountains. The top of the peak was crowned by a cluster of buildings resembling Machu Picchu.
“Holy crap,” I said. “It looks like Rio. Just with…lots more hair.”
Rose flicked her earfin at me and set her wings for a gentle descent to the foot of the really tall mountain. Another small cluster of buildings waited, lining an avenue leading to the base of a carved stone staircase. It went up the sheer face of the mountain, all the way to the temple complex at the summit. I guess a relaxing donkey ride up the paved road switchbacking up the far side of the mountain was out of the question.
Rose landed down the beach from the monastery buildings, far enough away not to blast sand all over the place while backwinging. No one paid any attention—you’d think they saw Dragons here all the time. It took me a moment to remember that, yes, they did.
A Dwarf wearing a sarong short enough for us to see any blue silk ribbons he might have won bowed to us, hands out to the side and palms up. His hair and beard were both well-trimmed and his upper lip was clean-shaven. His body hair was shaved into precise lines and sections defined by moko-like knotwork designs tattooed all over his face and body. He looked like the Tara Brooch done in ink and hair. “Welcome to Stonewall,” he said. “I am Elder Second Kazan. If you’ve come for lessons, know that our wisdom may only be purchased with pain.”
At least the translator necklace I’d borrowed from Harmony was working. I dismounted and returned the bow. “My name is David Fraser. I’m here to study.” I shrugged and added, “And yes, I expect the lessons to hurt.”
“Then the pain begins now,” he replied. He smiled and clapped his hands together. “Can you make it to the top of the stairs?”
I looked up the side of the mountain. “Sure,” I said. “Any chance a beautiful woman will flash her tits and say, ‘If you catch me, you can have me’?”
Kazan chuckled. “Would that motivate you?”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
“Hmmm.” He gestured down the avenue to the stairway. “I give you ten minutes. If I catch you, I will have you. Is that motivation enough?’
I looked up the stairs. “It’s a start.” I tucked my athletic bag over my shoulder and started the climb.
My physique is worlds better than it was when I met Rose, but I was breathing hard and covered in sweat inside five minutes. It wasn’t a sheer ascent, but it was still bloody steep. To make matters worse, the stairs were scaled for Dwarves. Taking the steps two at a time worked, only because going one step at a time was worse. Buns of steel, indeed.
I came to a narrow terrace with a short stone bench and looked down to see if I had time to catch my breath. Kazan was nowhere in sight, but that wasn’t reassuring. Gold-leafed trees, huge flowers as bright and colorful as a flight of macaws, and undergrowth untouched by machete covered the mountain and the stairs, keeping all but the last hundred feet concealed. I didn’t think Kazan was serious, but you know how it is—different world, different customs, right?
I got moving again before my muscles stiffened up. I seemed to be about a third of the way to the top, and the stairs ahead seemed to be little different from the first set. Before long, I was breathing hard again, and so focused on the next set of steps I didn’t notice my surroundings. I paused to wipe sweat out of my eyes and realized I was staring at a cluster of coconuts right next to the stairs.
I cut one free and sliced through the husk with Kindness, and used the blade of my Leatherman to poke through the eyes. I gulped down the water, thankful for every drop. Kindness cut through husk and shell with equal ease. I’d never tried raw coconut fresh out of the shell, but right then it was wonderful. I drained a second one and ate the meat as I climbed.
The last third of the stairs traversed back and forth across bare rock faces. They weren’t nearly as steep, but the rocks reflected a ton of heat and the winds were gusty and unpredictable. Still, it wasn’t too bad until the stairs ran out of handrails. I leaned over and grabbed on to the stone steps for added stability. Two feet to my right, half a mile of thin air waited for me to trip. The image did wonders for my focus.
And then I was at the top.
The last few steps opened up onto a flower-lined terrace. I walked past the flowers and sat down on a stone bench under a tree bursting with cobalt-blue flowers. I sat there until my breathing evened out, watching a cloud of metallic green dragonflies dance from flower to flower, their rear legs loaded with pale yellow pollen.
A Dwarven woman emerged from one of the buildings and made a come here gesture. I jogged over and bowed.
She was nearly as tall and wide as the Dwarf I’d met downstairs, wearing a short sarong around her hips and a length of linen wrapped several times around her chest. Her body was muscled like a racehorse, but she still had the curves of a pin-up queen. Her chin and throat had moko-style tattoos extending down from her lower lip, with strips of beard knotted into cornrows running between the tattoo lines. The sides of her head were shorn clean and well-tanned, leaving a Mohawk braided into waist-length cornrows. Her torso, upper arms, and thighs were covered in tattoos, all lines of ogham script. I assumed they were passages from her sacred texts. Her upper lip was shaved as well. Turns out it’s the mark of the order running Stonewall.
“Greetings, Dragonbound. I am Ideal Maraz. I am responsible for your improvement while you study with us.” She handed me a folded sarong. “Put this on.” She pointed to the building behind her and added, “In there. Leave your things.”
There’s no way I’m gonna run around here with my dork hanging out. I smiled at her and went to get changed. The building had two hammocks, a stone ledge with a few personal items on it, and two chamber pots. Not exactly four-star a
ccommodations, but I probably wouldn’t be in here a lot. Hopefully my unmet roomie didn’t snore. I got changed and tied my hair back.
When I came out of the building, I asked, “If you don’t mind the question, I was wondering what ‘Ideal’ signified?”
She smiled. “I embody the physical and spiritual goals you should aspire to. Normally you would have a male Ideal, but the Dragon you are bound to insisted on a woman. Still, we can provide a male Ideal for you to reference if you wish. I am here to make you greater, not your Dragon.”
I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “So the building I changed in…?”
“Is my cell. How else will you conform to your Ideal except by being with them?”
“I guess. It just seems a little, well, close quarters.”
Her eyebrow went up. “I’ll promise not to stare while you relieve yourself, if that will help.”
I decided to stop digging myself any deeper. “No, no, that’ll be fine. It’s just… I’m happy to be studying under you. With you.”
Maraz smiled. “With me.” She pointed toward the central group of buildings. “It is time to begin your lessons, Dragonbound. This way to the training ground.”
She led me toward a sand-floored arena where a dozen or so students were already doing drills. While we walked, I asked, “Am I supposed to say, yes, Ideal, no, Ideal, anything like that?”
“If you wish. Most of my students call me sheep-raping bitch. Feel free to be more creative.”
“I’ll do my best. My name is David, by the way.”
Maraz nodded. “I know.” She stepped out on to the sand and picked a buckler off one of the wall racks. “Choose a weapon,” she said.
The weapons on display had blades of silver glass. I tested the weight of a few two-handed swords until I found one matching Kindness. I gave it a few test swings and joined Maraz on the sands.
“This is ghost steel,” Maraz said. “It does not cut flesh, but you will feel all the pain of a real wound. And yes, it was developed for tools of torture and enslavement.” She put on a leather gauntlet covered in ghost steel spikes. “Now, attack me. Show me what you know.”
I gave it my best, but without Kindness guiding my movements, I really sucked. The sand tasted terrible, and I was eating a lot of it. Every time I was slow to get up, I got a literal ass-kicking from Maraz. Worst of all, I hadn’t landed a single blow on her.
My first lesson was that long hair is a disadvantage. Even tied back, Maraz could still use it against me. Fair enough. I grabbed her hair next time. She used it to pull me off-balance and grabbed my wrist. She didn’t pull her hair free—she broke my arm.
As I sat there trying not to move, she said, “If someone can grab your hair, you can grab them. And their hands are full.” She hooked her arm under my good shoulder and hauled me off the sand.
After fixing my arm, we took a rest break, drinking spring water flavored with sliced fruit. Like the coconut meat, it was some of the sweetest water I’d ever drunk. “Hunger is the best sauce,” indeed.
I took the chance to look around at the other students. Most of them were Dwarves, but none looked local. Only one of the Dwarves had any tattoos, a woad-colored spiral on his shoulder. All of them had different styles of beard and hair braiding, jewelry, and skin tone.
One of the students was an Elvish woman who looked to be in her late teens, but was probably over a thousand. She was pale and delicate, like a blown-glass fawn, and every time she landed on the sand I expected to hear bones shatter. Still, she kept getting up and going on.
The remaining students were two Human men and a woman, all of whom turned hostile after hearing Maraz call me Dragonbound a few times. Not surprising, given how Humans here feel about Dragons. I decided to smile and stay out of their way.
After break, Maraz said, “You are not hopeless with the sword. Have you ever studied unarmed combat?”
I shook my head. “No. I didn’t have the physique for it, or the mindset. Most of the time, unarmed combat is used in, well, spectator sports. Tournaments, that sort of thing.”
Her eyebrow went up. “We call them gladiators.”
I shook my head again. “We used to have gladiators. The fights we have now are…formalized. No permanent injuries to either fighter, no battles to the death. You get points for blows to the head, no hitting below the belt, no contact to the legs. That sort of thing.”
“I see.” Maraz stood up. “You take no delight in battle. There is no joy in your heart. When you reached the top of the stairs, did you feel no pride?”
“I was glad.” I stood up and shrugged. “I’ve enjoyed fighting before, and been happy to be alive after being in danger. It’s just… I don’t enjoy hurting people. I don’t want to enjoy hurting people. If that’s what you’re trying to teach me, I don’t want to learn it.”
She shook her head. “That is sadistic glee, and it is not what we aspire to. All warriors seek to unify body, mind, and spirit to attain the state of acting without intention. We seek to go further. We seek to attain battle-joy, the place where life burns so bright that lesser foes are struck down by the mere sound of your laughter. When you touch this place, you are a god of war, and armies will run before you.”
“How do we get there?” I asked.
Maraz smiled. “We fight.” I didn’t quite dodge her fist.
By the time we broke for dinner, I felt like a well-tenderized steak. Maraz helped me off the sands and walked me to the dining hall. My hands were shaking and one eye was swollen shut, but I managed to carry my own bowl of stew to the table and eat it without help. At least Maraz was sporting a few new scrapes and bruises as well.
Still, I was beginning to understand what Maraz was talking about. There is elation in overcoming failure, in discovering new limits and surpassing them in turn. Maraz laughed as she pummeled me, laughed again when I struck back, and cheered for me when I managed to strike her, no matter how poorly.
After eating, I followed the other students to the infirmary. We got a thorough evaluation, and one or two of the others got poultices or potions for their injuries. When the healer got to me, he looked at my eye and called for a pair of leeches. After I jumped off the table, he laughed and held me down with one hand while massaging a cream into my eyelids with the other. Once he let me up, he clapped me on the back and said, “I was kidding about the leeches. Get some sleep.”
Just my luck to get a comedian.
Our next stop was a Roman-style bath, where sweet oil and blunt, curved knives were used to get the dirt off. The main room was heated by steam from a geothermal vent. We hung out for a bit before changing into plain linen bathrobes for the walk back to our hut. It turns out the monastery was built up around the vent. Like many springs and such on Earth, it was reputed to have healing properties.
Back in our hut, Maraz undressed and climbed into her hammock. I wasn’t quite ready for bed, so I pulled my phone and a set of headphones out of my bag and went back outside. The second sun had finally gone down, and the sky was changing from violet to black.
The rainbow-colored planetary rings were gleaming in the night, and it took me a moment to realize that they were in a different part of the sky than they were the last time I came to Rose’s world. I went back into the hut and asked, “Maraz, where is the city of Tianisa from here?”
“On the other side of the world, in the far west of the northern continent. You’re not missing much—it’s the rainy season there.” She gave me her raised eyebrow and asked, “What are you holding?”
“It, well, it stores information for me. Music, images, things like that. I thought I’d listen to a little music before I went to sleep. Just to relax.”
“Hmmm.” She rolled out of the hammock and pulled her robe on. “I would like to hear music from your world. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” I changed the headphones for a speaker dock and went back outside. We found a comfy spot near the cliff edge, giving us an amazing view of the bay. T
he light from the rings danced on the water, and the village looked like a swarm of fireflies moving through the jungle.
I picked out a few instrumental pieces since I didn’t want to have to mess around with translating lyrics. I thought they would be good for kicking back and watching the night sky. They gave Maraz other ideas.
Maraz hopped to her feet, pulled me up, and said, “Dance with me.” How could I refuse? Then she dropped her robe, pulled mine off, and hauled us both to the edge of the cliff. There wasn’t room to do any of the court dances I learned in the Society, so I took her hand and led off into a waltz. After the first twirl, she picked up the steps in no time.
Dancing on the edge of a half-mile drop should have scared the crap out of me. Instead, I was exhilarated. The beauty of the night, the music, the prospect of imminent death, and, in all honesty, the proximity of naked female flesh—it all combined into a state of total, live-for-the-moment euphoria. You know the Fool card in a tarot deck? I was that dude.
When the music stopped, Maraz pulled my head down next to hers and whispered, “Do you want to lie with me?”
The answer was pretty obvious already. I started to answer and got nothing but “Uhhh…” There was no point in lying, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth.
Maraz gripped my hands, holding tight. “This is how you should feel. Fighting me or bedding me, you should feel the same joy.”
“No offence, Maraz, but being with you…? I think I’d be too nervous and guilty to enjoy it, or even to do my part well.” I gave her a half-hearted shrug as an apology. “Comes with dating a Dragon.”
Maraz laughed. “David, all Ideals take a vow of celibacy. Sleeping with students is forbidden. That doesn’t mean I can’t make you think about it if you need motivation.” She stepped away and picked up her robe. “Good night, David. Thank you for the music.”
I watched her walk back to our hut and burst out laughing. I held my arms up to the night sky and shook my head. “It is going to be a long three months,” I muttered. I picked up my gear and headed off to bed.