The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1)

by Keech, Jenny Rebecca

  Davaris blinked. “The wædym?”

  Ishar winced. She turned to Eira and grimaced. “Perhaps this was not the best topic on which to start our goodwill.”

  Eira gave her an encouraging smile. “Please. Go ahead. If we never discuss our differences, how will we begin to understand each other?”

  Ishar nodded. She still paused before continuing. “Then please forgive me but among my people the word is an insult. Among the Haaldyn, the only women who would wear their hair long and flowing in public, for other men beside their husbands to see, are the women who sell their favors on the streets to strange men.”

  Jaya dropped her knife to the table with a clatter. Eira also looked surprised. Ishar continued quickly. “I mean no insult to any of you; however it was probably things such as this and other culture clashes that kept us at the war we fought for so long. As to the term I just mentioned,” Ishar looked directly at Jaya and then at her, “I personally do not view either of you as such but I will admit that seeing your long and flowing hair is unusual and strange to me.”

  Jaya cast a bemused glance down the table and blinked. “I have grown up hearing tales about the Haaldyn all my life, and they made your people emerge in my mind as a people beyond our understanding. Yet here, you appear so similar to me now in your actions that these stories seem just that: a storyteller’s yarn. Then you say something strange and I began to believe those stories once more.”

  Eira nodded. “Which is the reason why Ryen has sent his daughter to us: to dispel these rumors and let us at the truth so all may understand each other and give us room to unite.” She sighed. “You are right though, Jaya. Sometimes it is easy to forget we have the cultures of three peoples in this room.” Lysandr cast his gaze upon her and Eira smiled graciously, “Forgive me, make that four peoples. There are differences among us all and before we can work together as one group we must learn to understand each other better so war does not come between us as we face a common enemy. We Lute, Britai and Raanans have learned to do so. The Haaldyn are not so different as we are,” Eira stated as she fingered her cup gently.

  Ber was not one to let go so easily of a target. “Why the tattoo?” His voice whipped hard from the other end of the table.

  Eira saw even Lysandr winced. She sighed and waited for the coming explosion Ber seemed determined to provoke.

  Ishar sent a wary glance down the table. “What about my tattoo? I take it you mean the one I have upon my left cheek?”

  Ber nodded, “Yes. Why do you have it?”

  Ishar shrugged. “It is the symbol of warrior status among my people. It is a mark of honor borne by both men and women.”

  Lysandr had closed his eyes as if in prayer. Eira was not certain what Ber would offer up next but she doubted it would indicate acceptance of the Haaldyn. He did not fail her expectations.

  “I heard it means you cannot be a wife and mother.” His tone was one of suspicion. What people did not understand, they feared, Eira realized. She frowned at his words.

  Ishar tilted her head in thought as she spoke. “When a Haaldyn woman chooses to become a warrior, she sets aside the desire for being a wife and mother. She can become a wife and mother at a later date if she so chooses, but only if she retires as a warrior. There is a mark added to this tattoo that signifies her choice. It is our belief that we cannot serve two masters. Our focus must be on one thing at a time. For now, my choice is on defending my people from the threat of the coming Tourna.” Throughout the entire conversation, Ishar kept her tone light and her voice calm.

  Eira herself was taken aback by the explanation. “Why can you not be both?” She asked, puzzled. “Do your men not do this?”

  Ishar shrugged. “Some men hold off from taking wives until later also. Women are not the only ones to follow this practice. However, it is felt among my people that a mother nurtures and shapes a child. A father provides protection and loves his children, but it is our mothers who define our lives. If I was a mother and a warrior, my thoughts would dwell on my children when they should be with my warband, fighting in battle. Such thoughts can get one killed, and who would raise my children when I am at war? No Haaldyn woman would willingly give up her children to another. It is a foreign concept to us. Why would I allow another woman to shape the lives of my children, my future?” Ishar shook her head. “No, when a woman decides her path, the tattoo helps remind her of her foremost duty. It does also help indicate those who stray from this path. This happens at times and the tattoos mark such a person who might attempt this as a betrayer of the warrior code.”

  “What happens to such a woman?” Davaris asked, shocked.

  Eira herself was stunned by Ishar’s remarks. She had not realized such differences were between her and the Haaldyn woman. Eira continued to listen as Ishar explained.

  Ishar took another sip of her drink. “You must understand. When a person becomes a warrior and joins a warband, the warband is seen as one. Our individual actions do not just affect ourselves but that of the entire group. Anyone who brings shame to themselves brings shame to the entire warband. In the case I just spoke of, it would be left to the discretion of the warband to determine the individual’s fate, be they man or woman. The warband would be judged by the choice they made. The very least that would happen is the person would be relived of warrior status and a second tattoo would be placed upon their right cheek, signifying their shame.”

  “The very worst?” It was Glyndwr who spoke up. He sounded curious.

  “The warband could order banishment or even execution.” Ishar kept her words simple. “If the offender was a woman who chose to become a wife or mother while under warrior status, her punishment would be dictated by the warband and the man who had participated with her in this shame would also be punished, but if he was not a warrior, it would be left to the local magistrate.”

  “Some women try to be wives and warriors at the same time?” Gavin asked.

  Ishar nodded. “They have the opportunity to retire as a warrior but chose rather to defy the law.”

  Davaris’ voice was soft as he spoke. “What if the woman was not a wife but found to be with child?”

  Ishar paused and sighed. “Then more than likely,” she stated simply, “The woman would have a mark of shame placed upon her right cheek and be allowed to live.” She took a swallow of liquid from her glass. “We value the life of a child, no matter what the parent has done. We do not kill them.”

  There was silence at the table as all took in her words. Eira tried to think of a way to return the conversation to a lighter note and failed.

  Ishar continued. She focused on keeping her voice light. “Punishment would happen also to any man who dishonored his warband. You must understand, hair lengths may vary so a warrior is known by their tattoo and the standard of the warband which is upon their chest. Warriors and their warband are judged by these marks and held to a high standard of honor. Any sign of dishonor is unacceptable.”

  Lysandr had stopped eating by now. “You lead a warband?” At her slight nod, he continued. “You have had to determine judgment on a fellow warrior?”

  Ishar studied the table for a moment. She looked back up. “We are both warriors. We both lead warriors into battle. We cannot have a weakness within our ranks that will risk the lives of others.” Ishar took a deep breath. “To answer your question, yes, I have had to bring a warrior before the others for judgment. But it was not a woman.” She paused, then continued, “My warband already had a strong contingent of dedicated men and women when I was selected as leader. Over time, battles claimed lives and I had to choose and add new warriors. I have watched many of them grow into hardened combatants.” Ishar shrugged. “I looked for strengths when I chose these men and women, but I also tried to look for deadly weakness.” Her glance took in Lysandr. “I have seen leaders who overlook such weaknesses as something minor that can be trained out. I know better. By the time a soldier has earned the right to be chosen as a warrior, some things are
ingrained unto death.” Eira watched as Ishar lips tightened for a moment. There was a bitter look in her eyes as she continued. “I overrode that judgment once and unfortunately it cost others.” Her eyes turned toward Eira. “He was a relatively young warrior. We were in Lute land and encountered a Lute raiding party. We engaged them in battle. When they scattered, so did we, searching out our then foes. Later, after we gathered together we came upon a destroyed Lute village. It had been deserted of warriors. There were only the bodies of the old and children lying about. Since we were the only Haaldyn in the area, I knew one of my warriors had to have done this horror. Among us, as I feel would be among you, this was considered a dishonorable act, the killing of the old and weak, even in time of war. Ishar narrowed her eyes. “He did not even have the sense to hide what he had done. This young warrior came forward. He bragged of it.

  Eira felt the blood drain from her face at the words.

  Gavin spoke up quietly. “What happened?”

  Ishar turned toward him. “We did not kill him, if that is what you think.” Eira saw surprise flicker in Gavin’s eyes and Ber’s narrowed. Ishar continued, “We burned the dead in Lute manner and left him staked out on the ground for the Lute to find upon their return.”

  Ber’s mouth dropped open. “You left him for the Lute? Alive?” Ber turned his face to the ceiling and laughed out loud. “Even I do not know if I could be so hard as to do that. He was a fellow warrior. You should have given him a quick death.”

  Ishar turned a calm face across the table. “What else could we do? It was the only honorable thing. To kill him seemed too quick and minor after the shame of his actions. Those people did not deserve what happened to them. My blade does not slaughter children and old men and women. As a warband we realized the returning Lute would provide the perfect judgment.” Ishar turned and glanced toward Eira.

  Eira gave a slow nod. “Thank you for telling me this. I am glad to know such honor exist even in the time of war. It does not always happen and I will say that goes for all involved.”

  Eira finally managed to turn the talk back toward the training of the Britai soldiers, everyday matters of the holding and news from the village, and for the rest of the meal that was all that was discussed. Ishar seemed glad that the attention was focused elsewhere. Everyone had apparently had enough uneasiness for one night. Eira noticed Traevyn still studied Ishar, though now with more discretion. His black eyes stared out at her from beneath his long hair while he ate. He was the first to leave. When he was done with his food, he rose and gave a nod to Eira and looked at Ishar. “Until the morning,” he stated abruptly but not unkindly. He left the main hall as silently as he had come. Gavin and Glyndwr also rose and left right behind him, citing the need to ride out early and check the progress of several watch towers being built along the east beaches. They said their goodnights to Eira and sent nods to Ishar.

  Lysandr flicked glances Ishar’s way several times, even as he kept up the conversation with Eira on refortifying the Hadwri earthworks. She could see he was still uncertain at having a Haaldyn within Taryn. She tried to tune in and listen as he talked of this first line of defense needed against the Tourna. But the night was late and Eira found that she was quite weary after the long day.

  With the loud scraping of his chair, Ber rose and stretched. Jaya stood quietly with him. “Eira,” he stated pointedly with a nod. “Lysandr. See you in the morning.” He walked out without a backward glance. Jaya gave a polite nod in their direction and followed him.

  Ishar flinched. Eira watched as a flash of resentment slipped across the Haaldyn’s face. A moment later it was gone. Eira understood the anger. Ber had purposely insulted her by not giving leaving words. She made a note to have Lysandr speak to Ber. The Raanan warrior would handle such words of discipline better from Lysandr than from her. She kept her face impassive for Ishar’s sake and glanced down the table as Davaris rose. He nodded at Eira and Lysandr before directing his attention at the Haaldyn. “Ishar,” he murmured quietly. He walked out without another word. Eira smiled. She sensed Davaris was trying to make up for Ber’s rudeness.

  With his men now vacant, Lysandr finally rose. He turned to Eira. “I will check with you in the morning before I send Gavin and Glyndwr.” Lysandr glanced Ishar’s way. “I will make certain Traevyn is available as a, guide.”

  Eira groaned inwardly. Perhaps Ber was not the only one who needed the guidance of words. Lysandr had said his remark in such a way to let Ishar know he intended Traevyn to be her keeper more than guide. Eira frowned but said nothing. She would have to deal with Varyk’s second in command at a later time.

  Lysandr grabbed his cup, raised it to both of them before turning and walking out.

  Ishar glanced at Eira. “They really do not like me, do they?”

  Eira sighed. She turned to the hovering servants and motioned for them to begin cleanup. Eira looked back at Ishar. “Walk with me.”

  Ishar rose and followed her out. They took the same path back toward the stairs and Ishar’s room but instead of entering there, Eira went to the right and down the hall to the next door on the left. This was her and Varyk’s private room. Eira went in and motioned for Ishar to follow before pushing the door closed and throwing the latch. If Ishar thought her actions strange, she said nothing, only inspected the space as Eira went over and stirred the red coals of the started fire. The room was warm; the draping tight across the window that overlooked the back wall and grassy hills beyond the keep. The room was a haven for her. Warm and comfortable, with furs thrown across the floor for warmth against the cold stone.

  Eira motioned toward several cushions set on fur next to the fireplace before sliding downward atop a lush wild cat pelt. Ishar walked over and knelt before sitting to the side on a cushion. Ishar looked into the flame and waited for Eira to speak. Eira hoped Ishar understood the politics of their time and the need for privacy. This space spoke of confidentiality. It had served her and Varyk well in the past.

  Eira cleared her throat. “Now. Where were we? Oh yes, your talk of the Raanans’ feelings. Please understand. My father, Wyn, sent word you had passed through his land so I was expecting you within a certain time. Lysandr knows nothing of this. My father knows why you are here and so do I. We are both in agreement that this peace must prosper and extend to the entire island if we are to survive the coming Tourna. You asked if the others welcomed your presence, but sadly, they do not. Right now, Lysandr does not trust you. Or, rather he does not approve of you being here. We are in the process of preparations for the coming war with the Tourna. Lysandr thinks that should be our sole focus. Having you here distracts from that purpose.”

  Ishar frowned. “And Ber?”

  Eira continued. “They are both the same in many ways. Both think your people, the Haaldyn, are safe in their holdings in the mountains. Therefore they do not understand the want of your people to offer help to those of us here in the lowlands who will face the full brunt of the Tourna wrath.” She shrugged. “And what they do not understand—”

  “They fear and distrust,” Ishar finished and took a deep breath. “Eira, each time the Tourna come, they are bolder. They have already begun to seek our northern shores to allow access for their smaller boats. We learned this, to our dismay, the last time of their coming. My people know if the Tourna gain a foothold on Alsaar, eventually they will work their way into the mountains and force their way into our holdings to haul us off as slaves. We understand, then we will be no different than any other person on this island, except by that time we will have no recourse or help to aid us. We must help you prevent the Tourna from gaining that foothold to safeguard all of our futures. Agreeing to that is what brought our two fathers together and helped bring peace between our people.”

  Eira nodded. “I agree. But even that took time. And so will this. These warriors of Varyk are good men. They are strong and honorable but prone to not give their allegiance easily. You must win their respect and admiration before they open th
eir hearts to hearing what you have to say, and to do that you must overcome all they have come to believe about your people and hold to be true.” She reached out and laid her hand on Ishar’s shoulder. “I was intrigued to hear you speak so honestly tonight. I must admit I also learned much of your people.” Eira shook her head. “We are all so different.” She glanced up curiously. “Does it really bother you that I wear my hair loose and long?”

  “It is just something that is unusual to how things are done among my people,” Ishar admitted slowly.

  Eira smiled. “And it is just as strange to me to think that only Varyk could see my unbound hair. To a Lute, our long hair is a sign that we are women. Some wear it braided or up when in battle but in everything else it is something that defines us. We do not see this as something to hide.”

  Ishar listened to her words. “When you go into battle, who decides who will care for the children?” She asked slowly.

  Eira’s reply was honest and sincere. “We try to find a place of safety for them. With the Tourna coming, many will be sent to the higher caves in the mountains to hide until we come for them. A few chosen able warriors will stay with them but also it is the duty of the older women and men and those who cannot fight long combat, for whatever reason, to safeguard them. If many of the Lute parents were to be lost in battle, at least our elders would still be alive to rear up these children with their knowledge, which is also our knowledge, and so guide another generation into men and women. Our history of who we are would not be lost.” Eira smiled. “My hope, though, is that with the island united that this will not come to pass.”

  Ishar nodded. “What you were telling me earlier, about Lysandr and his men, is that I must be patient.”

  Eira smiled sadly. “I might add extremely patient, but they will come around, some before others. You may trust me in this.” She paused before adding, “If you need to discuss something, feel free to talk with me. I do not mind the questions. I would only ask that we find privacy before we do, like your room or mine, or perhaps I can go one afternoon with you riding. The reason for the privacy is that most of the walls of this holding have ears and I try not to talk about personal issues like this except where I know there will be privacy.”