by Selina Rosen
"I am not Persius. I am Kartik. I would never reward good with evil," Hestia assured her. "The Amalites are raiding about one in five of our trading ships, killing the crews, and slowing down trade with the Jethrik and the barbarian nations. Worse still, as many as we kill, there are always more coming in on our own ships—the ships they steal from us. Despite our best efforts, the attacks are not lessening, they are becoming more severe. Case in point, the recent attack on your own people. What should we do?"
"I have six ships and a port from which to sail. Even as we speak my people are fixing the boats with Kartik sails and flags. We need supplies. As you know the Katabull people are primarily an agricultural, hunting and gathering culture. We have no wealth with which to outfit our ships. We need supplies from you. I also need a hundred of your best men. I myself will man one ship and put a mixture of humans and Katabull on all of them. We will sail in the areas where the ships are being raided. Then, when the Amalites come to raid us, the Katabull will call the night, and we will attack them. We will kill all on board and take their ships for our own. We will bring the ships back to the closest port where your people will outfit them for the coming war . . ."
"The coming war?" Hestia asked.
"The Amalites will never stop coming after us until we destroy them utterly. At the very least, we must destroy all their ships. Burn them and their ports. Make sure there is not even one fishing boat left. Take away their ability to sail, and you take away their ability to torment us. Send ships periodically to make sure that they never have the chance to rebuild their ships and their ports, and we get rid of the Amalite menace forever."
"I will get you everything you want," Hestia said. "Whatever you need, you have but to ask and I will seal it. I will not make the same mistake that my father made; we will crush the Amalite horde now and forever."
Hestia realized just then that about a half a dozen drunken Katabulls were dancing around the hall.
Tarius smiled at her. "You did say you didn't care," Tarius reminded her.
Hestia nodded, clapped her hands, and musicians started to play. Music filled the air, and then Hestia clapped her hands again and six scantily clad Kartik women came out dancing. "For your entertainment," Hestia said to the reigning Katabull leader. Tarius nodded in appreciation. The Marching Night went crazy with wolf whistles and yells. Jena noticed Tarius paying particular attention to one of the dancers and slapped her.
"Ow!" Tarius said rubbing her shoulder as if wounded.
"You keep your eyes over here," Jena said pointing at herself.
Tarius smiled at her. "But my dear love, you're not dancing . . . I'd of course much rather see you dance."
"All right then, I will." Jena had downed just enough wine to think it was a good idea. She had learned all of the Kartik dancing moves, and could dance as well if not better than any of these girls, and she showed them all she could. When she started to dance, the Marching Night got still louder. Soon all of them were dancing around, including Tarius who was dancing with Jena in a manner that was almost—but not quite—sex.
Hestia looked at Dirk and shrugged. "Oh, well then . . . " She got up, took his hand, and they too started to dance.
A good time was had by all.
* * *
Hestia was walking through the courtyard early the next morning, just looking at her garden and thinking. As luck would have it, Tarius's consort was doing the same thing, and again wearing almost the same dress. It was starting to become embarrassing.
"Good morning," Jena said curtsying.
"Good morning," the queen nodded back. The girl still had court manners. "So, how does someone like you wind up with someone like Tarius the Black?"
Jena laughed. "I'm assuming you don't mean that in a hateful way." She stopped to smell a rose and smiled.
"Not at all. But you are Jethrik. Definitely a lady . . ."
"Oh, you should only talk to my father if you think I was ever a lady. I was sort of a tomboy, actually. But yes, I was of the gentry," Jena said.
"She's not. She's Katabull, Kartik, and a trained killer."
"So am I. Not Katabull or Kartik, but a trained killer," Jena said.
"Ah! But you weren't always. Jethrik women aren't allowed to fight. You have a kind face, a gentleness about you that while it may be somewhat deceptive, is there none-the-less. Your mate has neither quality about her," Hestia said.
Jena laughed again. "See, now? You don't know her the way I do. Yes, she is relentless, even ruthless when it comes to her enemies. But there is nothing she wouldn't do for a friend. True, she is vindictive, but she will show mercy if you can prove you acted against your will or have repented. The Katabull say you can see the merit of a person by their true friends. When the king tried to execute Tarius, the king's own wizard and surgeon conspired to save her. Harris, Arvon, Dustan, myself—we all changed our lives forever to be with her. She is very kind, but only to those who deserve it. As for her gentleness," Jena smiled wickedly. "As I said, you don't know her like I do."
Hestia laughed. "I'm still curious. How did the two of you get together?"
"It's a very long story," Jena said.
Hestia sat down on a bench in the garden and patted the seat beside her. "I've got time."
Jena sat down next to the queen. "All right, then, but I did warn you. You see, in the beginning I didn't even know she was a woman, much less the Katabull . . ."
When Jena had finished, Hestia knew all about the true nature of her new ally, and had no doubts about either Tarius's integrity or her abilities.
"Well, it certainly was a long story, but not at all a boring one. You are very lucky to have kept each other through it all," Hestia said.
"Yes we are," Jena said with a smile. "I'd better go. If she wakes up and I'm not there, she runs around looking for people to kill. Life with her does have a few drawbacks."
Hestia watched Jena go almost with envy. Jena had passion, and she had adventure. Hestia had neither; she had only duty. Her father had died when she was only sixteen, and she assumed the throne. Before that, her life had been filled with school and sword training. After that, her life had been filled with decisions and responsibilities. Even her relationship with Dirk was not so much a love match as it was a convenience. Oh, she cared for him, and he for her, but there was nothing close to the depth of feeling these two fighters held for each other. There was nothing to bring them that close; nothing had tried to rip them apart. Neither of them had ever come close to death. They didn't rely on each other to watch their backs except in a political way.
Hestia decided to make the time to find some passion and adventure and add it to her life. The problem with living a safe life was that it kept you from really living at all.
She decided there would be more dancing.
* * *
The ships were loaded, and they were preparing to take to sea.
Arvon had already told Tarius that he and Dustan would not be going. Dustan couldn't handle the sea even with Kartik seasickness potions, and Arvon wouldn't leave him behind. Tarius not only understood, but she had anticipated their decision and had come up with a plan that would benefit everyone. While the Marching Night was at sea, Arvon and Dustan would take a troop of fifty men and Katabull and comb the shores, cleaning them of any Amalites they found and assuring that no new Amalite beachheads could be established.
Both fronts, land and sea, were being funded directly by the queen.
Tarius divided her people and the queen's people evenly among the ships. To ensure that all pre-sailing problems were addressed, Tarius's ship would leave last.
Before embarking, Tarius stood at the main lodge and addressed all the Katabull. "We will return frequently with more ships. I will handle what I can when I am at port, but in my absence any urgent decisions shall be settled by Jerrad. When we return we will leave some of you, and others will go back out with us. We will do this until every Amalite has been driven from the sea, and their homeports are u
tterly and completely destroyed. No longer shall they blight our land or threaten our future."
The crowd cheered. Tarius nodded to those assembled, and she and the Marching Night headed for their ship. This was their ship, manned almost entirely from their pack. They would take the most dangerous waters. There were ten Kartik soldiers with them whose duty it was to sail back any captured prize. When they had captured a second, they would bring both ships back and take a short break.
Harris followed directly behind Tarius; he had been trying to talk to her all day. "Tarius . . . Tarius!" he said.
"What is it Harris?" Tarius asked a bit annoyed. She was busy checking the last minute details with her herald.
"I'm . . . I'm not going."
Tarius stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. "Excuse me? What did you say?"
"I'm not going," Harris said.
"What about Elise? What does she say about this?" Tarius looked around and realized Elise was nowhere in sight. "Where's Elise?"
"She's not going, either," Harris said. "In fact, her not going is why I'm not going."
"Why not? Did I do something to hurt her feelings? Yours?" Tarius asked. "Have I done anything to either of you? If I have, I apologize. I know I've been busy, but . . ."
"You have done nothing, Tarius," Harris said with a smile. He took her shoulder in his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"She's pregnant isn't she?" Jena asked.
Tarius looked at her then back at Harris who was nodding. "She just told me. She thought if I couldn't give you advance notice that I would go with you, but I can't, Tarius. I can't, and I won't. When she was shot I left her to bleed on the field and followed you into battle. I won't leave her behind again, not now. What if something should go wrong? What if we get stuck out at sea, and I don't get home in time . . ."
"You need not explain," Tarius kissed him on the check. "This is where you need to be. I will do without you for the time being, though it won't be easy."
Harris had tears in his eyes, as did Tarius. Jena suddenly realized that they hadn't been separated for more than a few days since Tarius had come to the academy all those years ago.
They hugged for a long time, then Tarius pushed away and straightened. "I need two volunteers!" Tarius screamed out.
Fifty ran forward, and she chose two. "Quickly go and get your gear and say your good- byes. We sail with the tide."
Tarius hugged Harris again. "I love you, Harris."
"I love you, too. Come back whole," Harris cried openly now.
Tarius nodded silently and started back towards the docks and her ship. She cried as soon as Harris was out of sight, and Jena put an arm around her.
"I'm happy for them," Tarius cried.
"I know," Jena said.
"It's just . . ." Her sentence died on a sob.
"I know that, too," Jena said.
* * *
The sea was rough, and even the most steadfast seamen where throwing up their lunch. Jena was right along with them. Tarius barked out orders, and they brought down all but the storm sail, secured all cargo, and tied off the masts.
Tarius walked over to where Jena stood against the railings. "Jena! Get below," she screamed over the roar of the waves.
"No. Please, Tarius; I'm so sick," Jena said.
"Find a bucket and get below. It's only going to get worse, and I'm sending all the sick below. The last thing I need is you going overboard into that," she said pointing at the churning sea. Jena looked where Tarius was pointing and threw up again. Tarius let her finish, then grabbed her by the back of her shirt and forcibly hauled her below.
The storm raged all through the night, and it was only close sailing and Tarius's cool head that kept them from foundering as the storm drove them further and further off course and towards the Jethrik coast.
Dawn brought calm seas and enough light to see how much damage they'd taken. They were taking on water, and needed to put in for repairs as soon as possible.
With the calmer seas, Jena felt better. She found Tarius in the captain's quarters going over charts and maps with the ship's helmsman. Tarius looked haggard and frustrated. Jena walked over, wrapped her arms around Tarius's waist and lay her head on her back. Tarius clasped her arm with a free hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
"Feeling better?" Tarius asked.
"Yes, thank you. You look like you could use some sleep, my love," Jena said.
"Not just yet. The ship's taken a lot of damage, and we need to dock her," Tarius said. "I just hope the rest of our ships missed the worst of it."
"If it's any consolation, Leader, I think we bore the brunt of the storm, and the others probably missed most of it as they left earlier," the helmsman said.
"You did a damned fine job keeping us afloat," Tarius said.
"So we're going home." Jena shrugged. "I mean it's maddening that we didn't even get to fight one boatload of Amalites, but surely nothing to look so glum about."
Tarius gently removed Jena's hands and turned to face her. "The ship won't make it home. The storm blew us way off course, and the closest port of call is Wolf Harbor . . ."
"But that's in the Jethrik! Not a day's ride from . . . home," Jena said. "Tarius, we can't go there. If you are seen, the king will have you killed!"
"He's tried that before," Tarius said with a smile. "He won't have any better luck now. I will stay on the ship. Our people know how to keep their mouths shut, and hopefully none will be the wiser."
"Isn't there any other way? Even a Jethrik port further away from the capital?"
"We might make it, but why take the chance? Jena, the ship is taking on water, and we can't pump the water out fast enough. There's a breach in the hull that a temporary patch won't seal. We'll be lucky if it can be fixed without dry-dock and full-scale repairs," Tarius said.
Jena nodded reluctantly.
* * *
They docked, and the helmsman set out in search of a shipwright to fix the battered vessel. It was taking on water fast now, and it was obvious that the ship would have to be dry-docked for repair. During high tide they guided it into the log stocks that would hold it, and when the tide ebbed, the ship could be worked on.
Tarius and Jena stayed on the ship while the others ventured out under strict orders not to speak of who they were traveling with, who they were, or what they were doing. If anyone asked, they were tradesmen blown into the wrong port by the storm after having to dump their cargo at sea.
Jena looked out at the land she had once called home. She would never tell Tarius, but she longed to go ashore and revisit those familiar sights and sounds, but she dare not leave the ship for fear of being recognized. They were like sitting ducks here—out of the water with no horses. The day was warm and sunny, showing no signs of the horrible storm that had driven them here. She stood on the bow of the ship looking out at the town with more than a little longing. If nothing else, she was tired of being on the ship. They had been here a whole week, and she was beginning to believe the ship would never float again. The rest of the crew were running around the town spending their money on all sorts of fun things while she and Tarius were stuck here alone most of the time. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, except that Jena was just sick to death of being trapped on the ship. She admitted to herself that if she could have left the ship, she probably wouldn't have wanted to. But since she couldn't leave the ship, the land seemed to call out to her, compelling her.
Tarius walked up behind Jena and wrapped her arms around her. She rested her head on Jena's right shoulder. "Bored?"
"Ah no . . . Not at all . . . OK. Yes, yes incredibly bored," Jena said with a sigh.
Tarius held her tighter. "I have a cure for boredom."
"Yes, you certainly do. But, you know what, honey? We can't just do that all day every day," Jena said.
"We could try," Tarius said.
"You know how they say you can't wear it out? Well, I think you're trying," Jena laughed.
&nbs
p; "All right . . . So, do you have any better ideas?" Tarius said.
"Actually, no . . . Race you to our quarters," Jena said, wrestling out of Tarius's arms and running for the cabin. Tarius chased after her. The shipwright and the workmen just laughed and shook their heads.
* * *
Three days later the repairs were finished, and they were tied to the docks, properly afloat.
"This is it! Go out have a good time, but come in early. We leave with the tide before dawn. May the Nameless One be merciful to the swine I have to go find before we can leave—because I won't be. If you're hung over in the morning then you'll punish yourself," Tarius said addressing the crew. The bulk of the Marching Night left in spite of Tarius's warning. Enough stayed to leave adequate protection for the ship and their leader.
It was still light when they left, and Tarius stood at the end of the gangplank and watched them go. Jena walked up beside her. "Half the bastards will come in drunk," Tarius said with a sigh.
"At least the Katabull haven't been drinking."
Tarius nodded. After a moment, she looked down the side of the boat across the deck in the direction of the capital. "The bastard is less than half a day's ride away, Jena. It would be so easy to get in, kill him, and leave him bleeding on the floor of his own throne room. We could be gone before anyone was the wiser, but I promised Robert I wouldn't kill him."
"No. You promised Robert you'd go to Kartik, and you did," Jena said. Personally, she wanted to see Persius drawn and quartered, and knew the Marching Night could easily get in, do the deed and get out again before the palace guard even knew what had happened.
Tarius laughed. "Those were his words, but I knew his meaning, Jena. He risked a great deal by helping me, and who knows if I would have lived at all if it hadn't been for him? I can't . . . I won't break my word to him. Not only the letter of my promise, but the intent must be safe with me. So Persius will continue to live. But how much joy does he get from his life when he knows that I am alive, and that I possess both the motive and the means to kill him?"