by Selina Rosen
"What think you, Tarius?" Herek asked.
"Yeah, fine," Tarius said with a shrug.
"I think Tarius should be leader in Tarak's place," Herek said.
Tarius's head snapped up. "Oh, now I don't think that's such a great idea."
"Why not?" Farel asked. "There is no greater leader among the Katabull."
"Because I'm a warrior, a mercenary, my pack is not even pure, my own wife is of a different race. Because I don't understand anything but battle, and you definitely don't want someone like me to lead the Katabull people."
"It's precisely for those reasons that we need you," Sharel a female pack leader commented. "The Marching Night is the tightest pack in our nation. Only your pack among all the others never goes to the council to settle disputes, and yet your pack should have more trouble than all the others because you aren't all the same."
"Besides, if there is to be a time of war, who better to lead the Katabull than a proven warlord? One who has beaten the Amalites before. The one who brought us this great victory today." This time it was Jerrad that spoke.
"Your father was a great leader, Jerrad. You, too, will be a good leader, after all, he set you an excellent example," Tarius said.
"But I don't want to lead. I am happy to lead my own pack at my father's death. I am unworthy of such an honor," Jerrad said.
"You're unworthy? Then what am I? I am a killer of men. A single-minded warrior. Just now when the meeting started I was not thinking of the people or of who would best fill the position. I was thinking of having sex with my mate. Is that the sort of person you want to lead the Katabull people? I certainly don't want the position. It will take up too much of my time."
"We have two worthy candidates," Sharel said. "For who is more worthy to lead than the person that doesn't want the power?"
"I'm telling you," Tarius started in disbelief. "I would rather be having sex right now than wasting time in this meeting."
"So would we all," Herek said with a grin. "I say we put it to the vote. All in favor of Jerrad . . . "
"There has not been enough discussion," Tarius interrupted.
He ignored her. "All in favor of Jerrad."
"Me," Tarius said holding her hand high. Only two other people voted for Jerrad. Tarius glared at Jerrad, who just smiled back. "You might have at least voted for yourself," she mumbled to him.
"As I'm sure you would vote for yourself," he mumbled back.
"I've changed my mind," Tarius said quickly. "There is nothing I want more than to be Great Leader. Power—give me power!"
They looked at her as if she'd gone crazy.
"And for Tarius?"
Jerrad was the first to hold his hand up, followed swiftly by all but three hands of the pack leaders. "Long live Tarius, great leader of the Katabull!" Jerrad screamed.
"You'll all be sorry," Tarius said standing up and addressing the group with a glare. "You'll see I'll do a horrible job. Now since I'm leader I'm closing this meeting so I can go have sex." She stomped away from them, and they all looked at each other and smiled.
"Oh, she really hates the position," Farel said rubbing his hands together.
"Far more than I would have hated it," Jerrad said. "We couldn't have made a better choice."
* * *
Tarius hit the front door of the hut mumbling and flopped down in a chair. Jena handed her a cup of hot soup she had just finished making. Tarius took it from her still mumbling.
"What's wrong?" Jena asked with a smile.
"Oh, nothing. They've just gone and made me leader!" Tarius said hotly. "I should have demanded they choose me from the beginning and I would have been safe. As it was they knew just exactly what I was doing and they all laughed at me. I spent too much time away from my own people, I forgot how the Katabull mind works. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"
"You'll be a good leader, Tarius," Jena said gently, sitting down across from Tarius.
"You're supposed to be on my side," Tarius grumbled. She sipped at the soup. "It's good."
There was a knock on the door.
Jena opened it and two men walked in carrying the throne of the Katabull.
Tarius sighed and slapped a hand to her head.
"The leader must always sit on the throne," one announced.
"Oh, for craps sake!" Tarius said standing up. "I don't want that in my house. I don't want to be leader. I don't want that throne." They took her chair and carried it outside, and then put the throne in its place. It was a plain wooden chair that was way too big for any one person, and it was draped in rare animal skins. She looked at it and sighed. It took up too much room.
"Thanks a lot," Tarius said facetiously.
"The council wishes to know what to do with the bodies of the Amalites," one man asked, and Tarius realized with a pain in her stomach that he was the equivalent of a king's herald.
"Tell them I said they can stick them up their . . ."
"Tarius," Jena scolded with a laugh.
"I don't want to lead," Tarius told her, "and it's not fair for them to make me do it."
"No one would be as good at it as you will." Jena said. "It's a done deal, so you might as well make the best of it."
"Oh, all right. In the morning we will strip the bodies of anything of use. Then we will haul them up to the ridge where the hurricane took out all those trees a season ago. There should be enough deadfall there to burn the bodies and keep the stench from bringing in flies and disease," Tarius said.
"Very good plan, Great Leader," the herald said grinning.
"Don't rub it in, just go away," Tarius said.
They had taken her chair away, so she moved to sit in the throne. It was actually quite comfortable, and she found that she liked sitting in it. She looked up at Jena, smiled, scooted over and patted the chair beside her. There was plenty of room, so Jena came and sat beside her on the throne. Tarius finished her soup and set the cup on the arm of the throne.
"So, you know what I've been thinking all evening?" Tarius asked with a wicked grin.
Jena smiled back and moved to crawl into Tarius's lap. "If I didn't, I wouldn't know you at all."
They found a new use for the Katabull throne.
Chapter 18
Hestia looked from the report the Katabull had sent to the report she had just received from the tradesmen's guild.
"The Amalites have become too aggressive," Hestia said. "We must put an end to them now before it is too late. Bring me Tarius the Black, the leader of the Marching Night and the Katabull Nation."
"At once, my Queen," the chancellor said. "But what if the Katabull should decline your invitation?"
"It's not an invitation, Colin, it's an order. The Katabull still come under Kartik rule," Hestia said.
"My Queen . . . The Katabull are celebrated among our people and no Katabull more so than Tarius the Black. Do not, I implore you, order the Katabull or their leader to do anything. Instead, prepare a feast in honor of this woman who has killed so many of the queen's enemies, and who is now leader of the queen's mightiest subjects," Colin said.
Hestia nodded with a sigh. "You are right, of course. I'm sorry to be so ill-tempered. I was just hoping that the Amalites would not so darken our shores during my reign. My father did not see the signs, Colin. The Amalites swept down on his shores, falling first on the Katabull and then on us. He waited till it was almost too late to drive them away. I do not want to wait that long. I want to stop them now, and I need this Tarius the Black and the Katabull people to drive the Amalites away. Therefore I should approach her with friendship, not orders."
* * *
Tarius sat in her throne surveying the workers below, having taken a break from her own work. Jena brought her a mug of water and sat in her lap as she gave it to her.
"The work goes well," Jena said.
"In a week it should be done," Tarius said.
The Katabull were building docks for their newly acquired ships. It was a huge undertaking, but all took turn
s with the work. Since Tarius and the Marching Night worked alongside them, they didn't feel inclined to complain about mistreatment. The docks and the boats would serve the entire Katabull nation. First as a means of defense, and second as an obvious boon to fishing. They had the perfect harbor for the docks and more than enough trees.
Her herald, Rami, came running up to her out of breath.
"Great Leader . . ."
"What did I tell you about that?" Tarius asked sternly.
"Tarius . . . the queen's herald has come with word from Queen Hestia herself," he said excitedly.
"Well don't just stand there, bring him on," Tarius said.
A few minutes later, the queen's herald stood before Tarius. He seemed only a little surprised to see Jena in the Katabull leader's lap, and Jena smiled.
"Great Leader," the Herald said. "My Sovereign, Queen Hestia, Ruler of all the Kartik, Herald of the Dawn, and Daughter of the Moon, requests the presence of you, your mate and the Marching Night at a great feast to be held in honor of your great service to our kingdom."
Tarius smiled broadly at Jena. "What did I tell you?"
"You told me," Jena said with a smile.
"When is this feast to take place?" Tarius asked.
"The queen leaves the time to you."
"Then make it three weeks from today. We are engulfed in this project, and I must not leave it unattended. Tell the queen we will be happy to dine with her."
The herald stood there for a moment just looking at Tarius.
"Is there something else?" Tarius asked.
"I'm sorry, Great Leader. It's just . . . you're bigger in the stories."
Tarius laughed. "Am I really, now? Go boy, tell the queen we'll be happy to meet with her." The boy started to go and Tarius reached out quickly and grabbed his arm. Startled, he turned to look at her. "Tell Hestia that I have the answer to her problem and will explain it upon my arrival. Can you remember that?"
He nodded and repeated. "You have the answer to the queen's problem and will explain it upon your arrival."
"Good man, now go."
"What was all that about?" Jena asked.
"Hestia needs help with the Amalites," Tarius said. "When we are finished here we can give her the help she needs."
* * *
Hestia waited with baited breath. Her heralds had just informed her that the Marching Night could be seen from the castle garrison. She had word sent to the kitchen staff, and she dressed and prepared to meet her guests. Her consort rubbed at her shoulders.
"Everything will be fine, Hestia. Did she not send word saying she has a solution to your problem?" he said gently.
"Which problem, Dirk?" Hestia asked. "The Katabull talk in riddles; it's their way. The gods alone know what she meant. What if I say the wrong thing? This woman is a mighty warrior. I run an army, but I know nothing about warfare. I only do what has been tried and true. I do know that it would be a grave mistake to ignore what the Amalites are doing to our shipping lines, and I need her help to find a solution. I need the help of the Katabull Nation. If I make a mistake, the entire kingdom will pay for it."
"Then you won't make a mistake, my love." Dirk gently kissed her neck.
* * *
The queen stood in her throne room with her champion standing on her right hand side and her consort on the left. Her retinue stood all around her. The trumpet sounded, the door opened, and her herald strode in.
"My Queen, Tarius the Black, the Leader of the Katabull Nation, her consort, Jena of the Jethrik, and the Marching Night.
She had tried to prepare herself for any kind of entrance, but still wasn't prepared for what she saw. Tarius the Black was tall and dark, her long hair braided in small braids all over her head. Her armor was leather as black as the darkest night and studded with metal that shone even in the darkened castle hall. Her pauldrons and knee cops were pounded into the shape of skulls. Her arms were bare except for studded black leather vambraces. She wore black leather breaches with a loincloth and a cloak of a dozen brilliant hues. She bore the scars of a hundred battles. Little scars ran up and down both her arms, there was a scar across her throat and one down her face. She looked every bit as powerful as her legends proclaimed.
Yet she gave Hestia a smile that put her instantly at ease.
The woman at the warlord's side was definitely of the Jethrik and an unquestionable beauty. She wore a colorful wrap-around dress, not unlike the one the queen was wearing, but she also carried a sword on her back that wasn't much smaller than the one her mate carried.
The Marching Night was a mixed batch who had obviously cleaned up for the occasion, re-dyeing their leather armor and shining the metal parts. And they didn't bow to her. That meant that at least their leader was a follower of the Nameless God. Must be hard to wield such power and yet harbor the belief that no person was any better than another.
"My Queen," Tarius said.
"Great Leader." Hestia remained standing to show that she, too, thought herself no better than anyone else. She knew that any show of fear would lose her the respect of this woman and her followers, so she walked right up to her. "Sister," she said holding up her hand.
"Sister," Tarius said, taking her hand and bringing their elbows together. "We have much to discuss concerning the Amalite menace."
"Yes. But first we shall feast."
* * *
The queen watched as the Katabull throne was placed at the table next to her own.
"Some stupid custom of my people. The leader always has to sit on the throne. You should see the way they fall apart if I go to sit on a rock. Not that it stops me anyway," Tarius explained to Hestia.
Hestia nodded graciously.
They sat on their thrones at the same time. Tarius on the queen's right hand side in the place of honor. Everyone else sat only after Hestia nodded and Tarius waved her hand wildly in obvious and utter impatience with the whole procedure. Jena sat to Tarius's right, followed by Harris, Elise, Arvon and Dustan.
The queen's retinue consisted of her consort, her councilors and their respective mates. They were not nearly as colorful or as good looking as Tarius's people. Nor were her subjects as entertaining as the Marching Night. They all started to reach for the food in the middle of the table, and their leader looked at them and growled. They snapped their hands back to their laps like scolded children.
The hall steward filled the queen's glass, and then the servers around the room filled all the glasses of the waiting guests.
Tarius coughed, looking at the Marching Night and moved her head closer to the queen. "Queen Hestia . . . You are aware that I myself and a good half of my troop are Katabull and that we therefore have no tolerance to alcohol."
"Well aware," Hestia said with a smile. "And as I have no desire to have my hall filled to the brim with drunk Katabull, this toast will be made with grape juice. Then we will bring out the wine, and if your people choose to get drunk, then so be it. I will hold no grudge."
Tarius nodded, looked at her people and nodded again.
The queen raised her glass and stood, motioning with her hand that they should remain seated. "I raise a glass to our honored guests. Tarius the Black, Great Leader of the Katabull Nation, to her lovely and capable consort Jena, and to the Marching Night. May your people forever prosper and have power over your enemies."
They all drank, and the queen sat down.
Tarius stood up raising her glass. "May the queen and her consort live long, healthy lives, and may all our enemies be as the dust beneath our feet."
They all drank, and Tarius sat down.
Then the servers started bringing the food in. First to the queen and the others seated at the head table, and then to everyone else.
"So, I'm assuming that you are a follower of the Nameless God," Hestia said conversationally.
"I am, as are most of the Katabull," Tarius said.
"Yet you have leaders?"
"Yes, it does seem contradictory, but only to tho
se who don't understand our philosophy. See, all are equal, from the monarch to the man who cleans the public privy. Both serve important functions, and both are needed. I am leader; it's a job. If I abuse the power of that job, if I treat people as if they are underlings, then I am breaking the code. A good leader is not the master of the people, but the servant," Tarius said.
She's eloquent, not at all the barbarian I was expecting, Hestia thought.
"Well put," she said.
"Thank you. The leader does not make laws, nor does the leader pass judgment on the people except when problems cannot be solved within the pack. My main job is to defend my people, to make sure we have a strong defense, and that's what I will do. I personally believe that a strong offense is the only real defense. What say you, Hestia?"
Tarius didn't blink an eye; she seemed to look right into Hestia's soul. She dispensed with any formalities, either real or implied, and called Hestia by her name not her title. Hestia found herself so off balance that she felt obliged to tell the woman the plain and simple truth.
"I know nothing of warfare except what is in books, and what I have learned in a training ring," Hestia answered in a whisper.
Tarius smiled. "Well, then we truly are the same. Because I know nothing else."
Riddles . . . why must the Katabull always talk in riddles? Never a straight answer. It puts me off my guard.
Jena stuck her head around Tarius to address Hestia. "She means that you are missing the skills she has, and that she is missing the skills you have."
Jena slapped Tarius on the shoulder playfully. "Say what you mean, dunderhead."
Then she again addressed Hestia. "The food is good." Jena went back to her plate.
Hestia watched the way Tarius's whole face seemed to light up when the woman spoke to her. She wasn't offended, and Hestia realized she had to relax. This woman knew nothing of a gentle life. She was a mercenary—a killing machine who had lived by her wits, but she was also filled with good humor.
"I need your advice, but it can wait till after dinner," Hestia said.
"The last time I gave council to a monarch I was shot through with an arrow and left to be dragged to death behind a horse for my efforts. As for dinner, I do my best thinking while I am eating," Tarius said.