Sword Sisters

by Tara Cardinal

  I felt my eyes grow wet and scrunched my lids shut. I cleared my throat, an old trick to stop tears that I’d learned during my time with the Demons. But I kept my eyes closed just in case.

  She sang:

  The brave girl stood beside the men,

  Hey lally lally oh,

  And drew her sword with them again,

  Hey lally lally oh,

  She fought with skill, she fought with grace,

  Hey, lally lally oh,

  And fought the Demons face to face,

  Hey, lally lally oh,

  And when the men had all been slain,

  Hey, lally lally, oh,

  Only she remained, to fight again,

  Hey, lally lally oh my oh…

  She stopped brushing, fluffed my now-untangled hair, and said, “There you are, dearie. My goodness, you’re a lovely little thing.”

  I opened my eyes and turned to her. She was still smiling, still regarding me with a kindness I didn’t really know how to accept.

  She saw my discomfort and began putting things away as she spoke. “I remember the end of the war with the Demons, you know. I was a teenager then, just becoming a woman. Exactly what the Demons were looking for. I knew if they found me, I’d either die at their hands or a year later when I gave birth to one of you. At any rate, my father and all the other men in the village decided the only way to protect us from the Demons was to bury us alive. We were put into graves with slender reeds to provide air, and we had to lie still for days at a time. It was awful but not as awful as what happened above.

  “The Demons came through and killed all the men they could catch, including my father. They tortured them to find out where we were, but they held firm. My father…I can only imagine how strong he had to be.

  “Then came the Reapers. They dug us up, made sure we were safe, then went on after the Demons. My grandmother was terrified of them. Many legends tell of Reapers doing horrible things, even worse than the Demons. But these Reapers were all good. I was told to be afraid of them too because they weren’t human. They had it in them to be as bad as their enemy. They might decide they wanted human women as well. And then we’d be in just as much danger.”

  “You’re right, Sela, but only the half-blood Reapers of the first generation were evil. Many of them did take human mates, both male and female, and those Reapers were more human than demon. It was those Reapers that rescued your grandmother and those Reapers that have sworn to protect all humans. We’re all—every one of us—the result of rape. There’s no worse heritage to have, and we’d never propagate it.”

  “I don’t know that word, ‘propagate.’”

  I smiled. “It just means we’d never do it.”

  “I’m glad to know that. Tell me: Can you…people…have your own children?”

  I thought back to Eldrid’s certainty that I was not the Red Reaper but merely the chosen one’s brood mare. “We can. It’s rare, but it has happened.”

  “Then you don’t need humans to mate with to make more of your kind.”

  “No. We’re here to protect you, Sela. We know the world is for you, not us. We’re content with that.”

  “I don’t see how you can be.”

  “Some days, I don’t either. But you know why I can be now? Because I know that you, that humans, care for each other in ways Reapers don’t. And maybe we never could. You deserve the world because of that.”

  “We also hurt each other in many awful ways.”

  “I know. But nobody said the world would ever be perfect. That’s why we have a very strict code to live by.” I smiled as I thought back to the endless teachings of the code, the main one being that Reapers could no longer mate with humans.

  Which reminded me. “Sela, this may seem an odd question, but do you happen to know a boy with beau—I mean, brown eyes, dark hair and—”

  Then a man entered the room, and everything changed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The man was tall, bulky, and had the swagger of a bully. He wore fancier clothes than Sela, and his hair was freshly cut. That marked him as an important person or at least a big fish in this small pond. A bright red sash decorated his chest.

  Always play weaker than you are. I stepped back, hunched my shoulders, and demurely looked up. I resisted the urge to bat my lashes; that would’ve been overkill. A female warrior’s greatest asset is surprise.

  In his hand, he carried one jointed section of giant spider leg. “Where is she?” he demanded of Sela.

  “Amelia? She went to find you.” Sela stood, defending her turf.

  “Not Amelia, this great warrior she told us about, the one who supposedly killed Lurida Lumo.”

  “I don’t know who you mean,” Sela said, hands on her hips. “She told me nothing. She just showed up here covered in all manner of disgusting slime, saying Lurida Lumo was dead. We insisted she go find the council first thing.”

  “Well, she did. And there’s an uproar. She’s being held for further questioning, but I want to find this supposedly great battle master. I mean, I could accept it if she’d said a man like Damato did it, but what woman could possibly defeat a god?”

  I seethed but kept silent.

  Sela moved slightly in front of me. “That’s the second time today you’ve burst into my house without knocking, Sixle. First, you took my daughter. Then, you act as if I’m a criminal. If it happens again, I might mistake you for a bandit and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

  “That’s not the issue. Where is this warrior?”

  Sela’s eyes narrowed. “I remember when we were children, Sixle. You knew nothing about women then, and I see you haven’t learned anything in all the years since no matter how many fancy council belts you get. A man might be taller and stronger, but height and brute force aren’t the only weapons in the universe, are they? Now get out of my house. The gods have given Amelia back to us, and I intend to keep her.”

  “Not until…” Finally, he noticed me. “Who are you again? What’s your name?”

  “Aella,” I said, and curtseyed. I got it exactly right. Adonis would be so proud.

  “This isn’t one of your children,” he said, both certain and puzzled.

  “No,” I said, weary of the charade. “I’m the woman who couldn’t possibly defeat a god.” Calling myself a “woman” felt weird in my throat. But it was close enough.

  It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did, he chuckled, “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Your belief doesn’t change the truth one way or the other.”

  “You’re a child.”

  “No, I’m just not very tall.”

  He shook his head, still amused. “I don’t know what sort of game you and Amelia are playing here, but it’s not funny. And it’s over. Whatever this is,” he said as he shook the spider leg, “it’s clearly not Lurida Lumo because he’s a damn god and can’t be killed.”

  Now, I stepped in front of Sela. Behind Sixle, I saw Horva watching from the back door. All the hatred I felt for the authority figures in my life, from distant Adonis to smug Eldrid to hateful old Vilikal the boot maker, swelled in me as I faced this petty little village despot. “I don’t care what you think,” I said carefully. “I don’t need your belief or approval. I know what I did. I would appreciate it if you’d stop threatening these people in their own house.”

  He put his free hand on my shoulder and smiled patronizingly. “Listen, sweetheart, I know you’re not from here, or I’d know you. So you probably don’t understand how things work in Cartwangle. But your little playmate has been chosen to serve a larger purpose than you can comprehend. Her death, while it’s unfortunate to the people who know her, keeps our village blessed with strong crops and strong people.” Then he lightly pinched and patted my cheek. “When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

  I saw Horva slide further back until only one eye peeked around the doorframe. She was embarrassed for me, for herself, for her family.

&nb
sp; I looked up at Sela. “I’m very sorry for the mess I’m about to make. I will help clean it up.”

  “Do you what you must, dearie,” Sela said and stepped back.

  I grabbed Sixle by his pompous sash and swept his feet out from under him with one kick. I spun and drove him back into the wall so hard I worried I might shove him right through it. I wanted him to understand my strength, to see how he’d underestimated me because of my size and my gender. I wanted to see the exact look on his face that now gaped down at me.

  I pulled him down until we were nose to nose.

  “I am Aella,” I said calmly. “I am a Reaper, and I am really tired of hearing you talk down to this nice lady. Tell her you’re sorry.”

  His mouth worked a few times before the words came out. “I’m sorry, Sela.”

  “Good. Now tell me you’re sorry.”

  “I apologize,” he said.

  “Horva? Come here a minute.”

  I felt the little girl move into the room and stop beside me.

  “Now tell Horva you’re sorry and that you’ll never treat her the way you’ve treated me or her mother.”

  “I’m sorry, Horva. I’ll never treat you this way.” Then he resumed staring at me. “You’re really a Reaper? From Raggenborg Castle?”

  “I am. We like to make spot checks through the area to make sure you humans aren’t doing anything stupid like sending your daughters to feed a giant spider.” I don’t know where that idea came from, but I liked the sound of it, and decided I would recommend it when I got back to the castle. Well, once Adonis was through yelling at me.

  “I had no idea,” Sixle said. “I haven’t seen one of your kind since I was a boy, right after the war. I thought you’d all died off.”

  “Like everything else today, you’d be wrong about that.” I released him. “I killed your spider god. I brought Amelia back to the village. I will stay here for a few days and evaluate what else you gentlemen might have convinced yourselves was a good idea before I report back to Raggenborg.” Crap, why did I say that? I sounded just like Adonis myself.

  “Oh, of course,” he said quickly. He straightened his clothes and walked rapidly to the door, pivoting as he moved so he didn’t turn his back to me. “I’ll make sure everyone knows. Thank you.”

  “Send Amelia home when you get back,” I added.

  “Of course. Anything you say.”

  “And don’t forget your piece of god.”

  He grabbed the dropped spider leg and practically ran out the front door. When he was gone, Sela said, “You didn’t make as big a mess as I hoped.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’ll do better next time.”

  “Was any of that true?”

  I smiled wryly. “Well, I am a Reaper.”

  “Why did you say it then? It seems to needlessly complicate things.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I didn’t like his attitude.”

  “I never liked it either. You know, he was the first man I was betrothed to when were much younger. But the more I got to know him, the less I liked him. I broke it off and fasted myself to Heod.” She shook her head. “Some days, I’m not sure it was an improvement. But at least Heod is honest with me.”

  “Honesty is important,” I agreed.

  “Can you teach me to be that tough?” Horva asked. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. How old was she? Maybe twelve? The same human age I was when I met Aaron.

  “Not if you can’t keep track of your little brother like I asked,” Sela said. “You have one job, and you can’t do that. Why would Aella want to teach you anything?”

  Horva looked at her scuffed shoes. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Now go find your brother and get him out of whatever trouble he’s in.”

  “The last time I did that was when I beat up Borsaw, and you said I shouldn’t do that anymore!”

  Sela glared at her. “Go!”

  Horva rushed out the back door.

  Sela turned her attention back to me. “Are others of…your kind…likely to come looking for you?” For the first time, she sounded genuinely worried, genuinely afraid of me. These humans don’t make any sense. First she says she wanted me to make a bigger mess, and now she seems afraid that I will.

  “I don’t think so,” I assured her. And that was true: Andre and Keefe could track me at will and therefore wouldn’t bother. Adonis was too busy preparing for the coronation of the new King, which was still five years off, to stop to wonder about me. Goran might notice, but then he’d forget due to that head injury. “I won’t talk to Horva if you don’t want me to, you know.”

  “No, dearie, that’s fine. It’s not like she wouldn’t hear this sort of thing anyway. You’re so much like Amelia, it’s like suddenly having twins. Are you hungry?”

  She was still afraid, and all I’d done was slam a guy into the wall. Was that really why Amelia wasn’t here? I mean, she’d seen me in full-on Reaper mode, and the gods knew that could be terrifying to Demons, let alone humans. Should I just gracefully depart, leaving only my name as local folklore, the legend of the Red Reaper? I’d never gotten the answer to my question about Aaron either. But now seemed like the wrong time to ask.

  So I smiled and said, “Thank you, Sela. Something to eat would be nice.”

  #

  She fed me stew, flavorless after Goran’s lavish meals, but certainly not repulsive. I reminded myself that sharing it with me meant the rest of the family might have to make do with less. That was something those of us in the castle never worried about.

  Horva and Hatho watched me eat. I guess they thought I might have retractable fangs or a snake’s tongue. I wondered just what these villagers really thought about the Reapers. We really did need to get out of the castle more to show the humans that we weren’t crazed killers like the Demons.

  I ate enough to be polite and was about to beg off for seconds when voices rose outside. A large group of people approached. My hand went for my sword, propped beside me at the table, but I caught myself before I picked it up.

  The door burst open, and a man entered, pushing Amelia ahead of him. Behind them, a crowd of villagers all watched and murmured among themselves.

  The man released Amelia, turned to the crowd and bellowed, “The show’s over! Go gossip amongst yourselves!” He slammed the door then turned to face the room. “I am not a happy man.”

  “Of course not, dear,” Sela said as if she heard this every day. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, I’m not hungry!” He ran his boots over the scraper then kicked them off into the corner. “I started the day mourning my daughter, then she shows back up with some cockamamie story about how a Reaper had killed Lurida Lumo. Then Sixle comes scampering back, saying that same Reaper was in my own damn house!” He glared at me then.

  Amelia, still dressed in her blood-and-gore-splattered sacrificial gown, said, “Aella, this is my father, Heod.”

  I did not stand. “Hello.”

  “I knew you were trouble when Amelia brought you in,” Heod said. “I let myself feel sorry for you because you were hurt, but I knew.”

  “You leave her alone,” Amelia snapped. “She’s my friend. She’s not part of this stupid village. If anyone started the trouble, it was you adults and your idiotic game of blind faith.”

  “Worship is not a game,” her father snarled.

  “Is that why you let them take me this morning?” Amelia demanded.

  “No! Of course not. It broke my heart. You’re my child. But damn it, we can’t ignore the will of the gods!”

  “Your god,” I pointed out, “was just a big bug.”

  “I think you have done enough damage,” Heod snapped at me.

  “Daddy, you will not speak that way to my friend,” Amelia said.

  He sat heavily in the chair directly opposite me. “You’re right,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blame for you for whatever the hell this mess is. You saved my daughter, and I should be more gracious to you. Sti
ll…you’ve left our family in a real pickle.”

  “I’d rather be in a pickle than a casket,” Amelia said.

  “We’ll get by, dear,” Sela said as she put a bowl in front of him. “We always do.”

  He turned to look at Amelia the way Adonis looked at me when I did something stupid. Except Amelia wasn’t being stupid. “Well, don’t just stand there, Amelia, sit down. Your mother’s made dinner. We can at least pretend we’re a normal family.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Go change clothes first,” Sela said. “Whatever that is all over you, I don’t want it getting on my dinner table.”

  Amelia went into the one other room, one I assumed was for the children. We all sat in silence until she returned a few moments later in a dress very similar to the one I wore. She sat down between Sela and me and slumped sullenly. I was quite certain she still had spider bits in her tangled hair. For some reason, that made me respect her more.

  “Say the blessing, dear,” Sela said.

  I wondered if they’d still pray to Lurida Lumo, but that wasn’t the case. We all put our hands flat on the table, and Heod, eyes closed, said, “Ahamatdeen, Great Creator of All Things, we offer thanks for this food, for the home, and for these people. Ahamatdeen.”

  “Ahamatdeen,” we all said in unison. Then we began to eat.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After dinner, I helped clean the dishes in the wash bin outside. Hatho, the least conspicuous member of the family, got water from the village well. We caught people peering around the house to catch a glimpse of us—whether Amelia or me, I couldn’t say—but no one bothered us, and Heod ran them off as soon as he saw them.

  “You’d think they’d never seen a damn red-haired girl before,” he muttered as he stomped back after one such encounter. He winked at me, and I smiled politely.

  Washing dishes was new to me. Amelia seemed to put all her strength into the scrubbing, and I broke two plates following her example before I realized I didn’t need to attack with quite so much vehemence. And I got a real sense of satisfaction from seeing the stack of clean plates I created.