Zara the Wolf

by C. R. Daems

  Where was that, I wondered. I had no memories of a favorite place growing up in our small village like the Monk apparently did. I liked my time at the Manola community but again had no favorite place. And my time with the Ojaza wasn't pleasant. No, it wasn't pleasant, but it was where I had become a spy, warrior, and Zara the Wolf. Yes, that was my place, where I had become who I was now.

  The Monk suddenly became a giant woman-of-fire advancing on me with a flaming sword. I grew to match her size and drew my sword. She attacked; her sword arching toward me. I raised my sword to stop hers, but when they made contact, hers melted mine and I had to jump aside to avoid being killed. I ran to the river and scooped up water I threw in her direction. She laughed. Steam filled the air but didn't stop her or put out the fire. I became the wolf and ran. She changed into a fire-eagle with steel talons and was over me in seconds. I changed into armor as her talons sank into my shoulders, slowly melting through the metal. My body grew warm then hot as the heat from the fire-eagle enveloped me. My heart was beating like the wings of a humming bird. Then she was a little girl back in the river, smiling. She said nothing while I fought to regain a quiet mind. I sought the Ojaza camp and felt earth beneath me, roots extending from me into the ground, deeper and deeper.

  Again she became the fiery giant and came running at me, sword ready to strike. I grew into a tree, bigger and bigger. Her sword slammed into the tree but did little damage. I swung a limb as thick as two men and knocked her several steps away.

  "Good. You learn quickly. The key is to remain anchored to your place of strength. As you saw, panic is your weakness and your eventual defeat and death." Her whisper was somehow warm and comforting. "Go now. You need rest."

  She was right, I thought as I staggered back to Shelly's room, dropped onto my sleeping mat, and slept.

  The light of morning filled the room as I heard Shelly get out of bed.

  "You were out late last night," she said. "Did you enjoy your session?"

  "No. Unless you call being chased by a giant fiery monster with a flaming sword entertaining. I don’t think I've ever been that scared in my life."

  "Why did she do it?"

  "A lesson. One I'll never forget." I barked a laugh. "I’d rather fight a hand of Ojaza warriors than that child-like looking little girl. If she wanted, she could rule the kingdom."

  "That's what terrifies the dukes. These Cheyo schooled people have enough power to eventually gain control of the dukedoms," Shelly said. "That would mean I’d never become a duchess, so you and I will have to stop them."

  "Yes, Lady Shelly. We will have to stop them."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JQEDIT: Earl Arriaga

  We stayed three days while Shelly and Eaton did whatever snooping Wetzel had assigned them. Fully provisioned, we left the morning of the fourth day for Jqedit, following the Areva River. Given no problems, it should have been a three-day journey.

  "What do you think, Zara?" Eaton asked as he joined Shelly and me at the head of the caravan.

  "I don't know anything about this part of the country. The trail does run close to the Broken Mountains, and it's summertime, which is the most likely time for an Indian raiding party, but Duke Dewan claimed he hadn't heard of any incidents over the past two years. I'd say we need to assume there will be an attack while at the same time hoping this isn't their year to raid," I said.

  "Their year to raid?"

  "If they are anything like the Indians in the Black Mountains, they live high in the mountains. So it's a two or three-week trek to the lowlands. Consequently, they don't tend to conduct raids every year or even every other year. Of course, if they haven't been active for two years or if there’s more than one tribe there, who knows?"

  "So you don't know." Eaton grinned.

  "True. And I can't see this caravan as a good target. We have too many guards and little to steal besides the mules. But Lady Shelly is reason enough to be cautious."

  Eaton nodded. That night, he posted four guards instead of two, which I thought a good idea. Two years of inactivity was sufficient reason—supplies could be running low and the young were always eager for excitement. And although I didn't think the group was a likely target, warriors were unpredictable.

  Unlike the rest of the nobility, Shelly was satisfied with cold meals at breakfast and noon, so we were off early each morning and didn't stop except for short rests. The second night, Eaton and I worked out. I thought it helped promote a feeling of a common purpose and eased his initial resentment of me.

  The next day we would reach Jqedit, and that night would be the most likely time to attack a caravan this well-armed. With bows, the thought sent shivers through my body.

  "What's wrong, Zara. Are you cold?" Shelly asked as we sat around the fire eating.

  "I need to speak to Lieutenant Eaton," I said preparing to stand, but she stopped me with a hand.

  "Lieutenant Eaton!" she shouted. When he looked up, she waved him over. "Please join us."

  That had him up and at a double-time run to her. "Yes, Lady Shelly?"

  "Sit. Zara has something on her mind which I'd like to hear." She looked to me.

  "Lieutenant, if Indians are going to attack a caravan of this size, they will attack tonight. Your four-man guard would be sufficient for almost anything, except arrows." Every Ojaza was an expert with the bow and arrow, so I had to assume the same would be true of the Indians in these mountains. "How will you protect yourself against arrows?" I asked, since they didn't carry shields.

  Eaton's face turned pale in the firelight, and he was silent for a long time with his forehead wrinkled in thought. "We have crossbows, but they need assembly, and we don't have shields."

  "I think the odds of an attack are low, but the potential danger is extremely high."

  "What do you suggest?" Eaton asked hesitantly with the resentment of me being in charge creeping into the question.

  "You would know better than me, but if a raid happens, anyone will be a target: those in sleeping rolls as well as those who are standing. I'll scout the area and hope to give you advance notice if I see anything. But if I do see something, I want you to be aware the attack will be with bows and arrows." I said it this way hoping he'd be more likely to act on a suggestion than an order. I hoped to keep the tension between us to a minimum.

  Nodding, he walked off in the direction of his detail.

  "That was a good approach," Shelly said. "Do you think an attack will happen?"

  "I don't know. But if it's going to happen, it will be tonight with arrows, and I don't think the soldiers are ready for that kind of a fight."

  "What about you wandering around at night on a horse?" Shelly looked worried.

  "That would be stupid. I'm going to try watching with my mind. If that doesn't work, then I'll scout the area on foot."

  "Be careful. I need a lot more mentoring," she quipped, but the worry didn't leave her eyes.

  "I will. Stay in the tent if an attack comes. That will be safer than running around in the open." I picked up my bow and quiver and headed north. I stopped on a small hill around a hundred paces away from the camp. There, I folded into a sitting position and sought my place of strength in the Ojaza camp. The night disappeared and everything around me turned blue. Time didn't seem to exist, nor did I feel the need for sleep.

  A lone Indian ghosted low to the ground using the bushes and low areas for cover. He stopped and surveyed the camp for several minutes before retracing his steps back over a small hill and out of sight. Now what, I wondered. Would alerting the camp help? Or should I wait? I decided to move closer to the position the Indian scout had used to approach the camp. I had just gotten settled when they began coming over the hill following the same path. There were fifteen and I joined at the end. As they got within fifty paces of the camp, they began spreading out to encircle the area, and I could wait no longer.

  Screaming an Ojaza war cry, I shot one ten paces in front of me and nocked another arrow. I shot the n
ext man and began running.

  It had the desired effect: the Indians all spun in my direction and the camp began to come alive. The next Indian I encountered was too slow getting his bow up and ready to fire. I sliced through his bow and neck and kept going. The next man fired but missed as I jogged left when I thought him about to release the arrow. I sliced through his stomach as he reached for his sword. Several arrows were so close I could feel the feathers brush by. One scraped my side, but the pain was but a thought; I was deep into a warrior's battle trance as I sought the next warrior, a woman. She drew her sword and screamed a blood-curling war cry as she charged, excitement glistening in her eyes. At the last moment, her sword changed direction from my neck to my leg. I caught it in my guards, and she and I collided—my knife buried to the hilt in her chest. I turned her at the last moment as another warrior bore down on us, and his sword struck her in the back.

  Now I could hear fighting all around me. I pushed her away, and just in time blocked a hard strike to my waist that slid along my blade and into the guard. I twisted and his sword flew loose. As his eyes followed his sword, I cut deep into his neck. When I looked around, the fighting had stopped and Eaton was approaching with one of his men.

  "You're crazy," Eaton said, looking around. "But you know the Indians. I've been fighting you—a savage in charge—but no more. You've been nothing but helpful. If I hadn't reluctantly listened to you, we'd all be dead. I wasn't thinking arrows, and knowing their style of fighting definitely saved lives."

  "How did you do?" I asked.

  "Four dead, five wounded; we killed nine." He snorted. "Three more than you. Come, you need those wounds taken care of."

  Just then, Shelly came running toward us. "Thank God, you're alive ... barely," she said after inspecting my wounds. "What if you had been killed?" She half shouted, frustration evident in her voice.

  "What if you had been killed?" I asked. "That was a raiding party. I don't understand why they would attack a well-armed caravan with little of interest to them, but without some distraction, they might have overwhelmed us."

  "She's right, Lady Shelly. We had our hands full with the nine that attacked the camp. Even being ready for an attack, without the practice demonstration Zara gave us we wouldn't have survived those nine." Eaton looked dejected and bone tired. Shelly dragged me to where the other wounded sat and proceeded to patch me up.

  "You have scars on your scars," Shelly said as she stitched the gash in my side. "What lesson am I supposed to take from this ... disaster?" She looked like she wanted to scream. I couldn't blame her. This was uncharacteristic of the Indians and just plain bad luck.

  "Know your enemy. The soldiers prevailed because they knew what to expect. The warriors failed because they assumed us a typical caravan that would have been easy prey for fifteen warriors."

  "Assumptions can be dangerous." She nodded slowly as if burning the lesson into her memory.

  * * *

  The next day, the general mood was better than one would expect—they had survived and that was a reason to celebrate. The going was slow, and we limped into Jqedit late that night. Minister Garris saw to it that the wounded were quickly moved to the barracks and a physician summoned while Shelly and her party were settled in their rooms.

  "Lady Shelly, Earl Arriaga would like to speak to you if you are up to it. He would like to understand what happened in case he needs to take any action," Garris said.

  "Of course, if I can have an hour to freshen up," Shelly said.

  "I'm sure that's acceptable. I'll have hot water brought up immediately. Just ring when you are ready." He turned and hustled out of the room. Shelly spent most of the hour inspecting my wounds and cleaning me up, before washing and putting on a casual daytime outfit.

  "Are you well enough to accompany me?" she asked. "You look like you should be in bed. Never mind. I'm sure you think you're all right. Let's get this over with." She pulled on the red velvet cord, and a few minutes later Garris appeared and walked us down to the earl's study, where two guards were on duty. Garris knocked, peeked in the partially opened door, and then opened the door for us.

  The earl stood as we entered. Although elderly, he walked with the stride of a younger man.

  "Lady Shelly, thankfully you appear unhurt, although your companion seems to have been injured. Please sit. Would you like something to eat or drink?" he asked, waving toward the chairs. Shelly handed him the letters from Duke Wetzel before sitting. He read them quickly and handed them back before returning to his chair.

  "What happened? They tell me there were four dead and five wounded. It's a miracle you weren't killed or wounded," Arriaga said, visually upset.

  "I agree, I was very fortunate," Shelly said, looking at me. "An Indian raiding party attacked us, fifteen warriors. We only survived because we were prepared for such an event."

  "You must have a very smart Lieutenant ... caravan leader." He smiled and took a drink from his crystal goblet.

  "He and his men were very courageous." Tears formed in her eyes. I agreed they had fought well against the warriors. The Lieutenant had picked his team well. It spoke well for Shelly that she felt the deaths of those men and didn't dismiss them as just doing what they were paid to do.

  "Stay as long as you wish, Lady Shelly. There is no need to move on until your wounded are well and you feel ready to travel. When you do, I'll send an escort with you back to Castra. That is the least I can do."

  "That's very kind of you, Earl Arriago. But I'll be going on to Budia next."

  "I thought you would be returning to Calle."

  "I'll have to consult with my caravan leader, but I'd like to continue on," she said, and I could almost sense her amusement. Arriago thought she meant the Lieutenant, whereas I knew she meant me. Shortly afterward, Shelly excused us as being exhausted, and we returned to the room.

  "What do you want to do?" she asked when the door closed. I had been considering our options. We couldn't travel light. Royalty needed an entourage, and that required sufficient guards to preclude tempting bandits. The Lieutenant and six soldiers—seven guards—might be tempting for a band of thieves.

  "Your caravan might look very tempting to an organized group of raiders. I think you need to add a few more guards before moving on, especially since we are moving closer to Siren country. I'd wager robbery is one of their main sources of income."

  "Mercenaries?"

  "If you had someone you trusted to vouch for them, maybe. What if you sent word to Ayus or Calle?" I said, thinking out loud. Shelly was quiet as she prepared for bed.

  "If Earl Varisko sent troops, they could be here in seven or eight days." She went to the desk and began writing. When she finished, she sealed it. "I'll give this to Eaton tomorrow morning and let him decide the best way to get it to Ayus." She looked relieved as she crawled into bed.

  * * *

  "I don't like the idea of sending anyone though the Pass with the Indians active, but with a spare horse, a man could make Ayus in three days. Going around the Broken Mountain would take an extra two days. I'd prefer to send two men, but I only have one unwounded and fit to make the trip," Eaton said, frowning in thought.

  "I agree. I've changed my mind. You and one other, ride to Castra. Tell Duke Dewan what happened, charter a boat to Calle, and report to Duke Wetzel. He can either send replacements back with you or instructions, if he wishes us to return to Calle."

  "But—"

  "No arguments, Lieutenant. I'll wait here until your men have recovered and Earl Arriaga has offered a detail to escort me back to Castra. By then you should only be a few days from returning," Shelly said decisively. I agreed that was a very sensible idea. It would be at least a week before the more seriously injured could travel. "If I'm not in Castra when you arrive, join me here in Jquedit. I may just choose to wait for you. It would give the wounded time to heal properly."

  "Yes, Lady Shelly. That would make Duke Wetzel and me feel better." He smiled, then saluted and ran o
ff to make arrangements. He and his uninjured corporal departed Jqedit shortly after noon.

  * * *

  By the end of the first week, I was sure there were several nobles in Jqedit who were considering having Lady Shelly's chaperone killed or otherwise disabled. At first it was, ‘Lady Shelly and I need to discuss something in private,’ or ‘Lady Shelly is safe with me,’ or ‘There is no need for you to be here ...’ When that didn't work, a few tried having their retainers attempt to stop me from entering the room or garden—a knife at the throat usually won me admission.

  "Zara, have you noticed how unpopular you are?" Shelly asked one evening while managing to look serious.

  "I'd say I'm getting very popular. A few have offered me a gold to get lost."

  "Who?"

  "That would be telling. I imagine it won't be long before some noble will challenge me to a duel. They are getting desperate."

  "Maybe I should turn down the charm, but it's fun and has reduced the boredom."

  "Lieutenant Eaton should be returning soon. Tomorrow is twelve days."

  "I'm scared. The Indians ... that was bad. How do you ...?"

  "When you take on something that could result in your death or injury, you need to make sure your reason for doing it is worth your death or injury. When the Ojaza captured me, I decided I'd rather be dead than a slave. Death didn't scare me—being a slave did."

  "And now?"

  "I don't know where I belong. I hate the Ojaza, so I don’t belong there. I was comfortable at the Manola Community but didn't feel it was where I belonged. Having saved you is very satisfying, because I've found you a person worth saving." I paused as Shelly gave me a hug. "The duke's cause also seems worthwhile, and in the process, I hope to find where I fit in Aesona society. That is important to me. And the Cheyo Monk convinced me I had a reasonable chance of surviving. So in the end, the reward is worth the risk."