Ree-Lin attracted admiring glances from both men and women. She had large brown eyes that missed little and high cheekbones that were the envy of most. Her shoulder length mahogany hair was pulled up and back in a high knotted ponytail and secured with an ivory hair pin that served as a fastener and as a weapon, if need arose. She also carried the trademark black staff of a bodyguard during peace time.
Nearly her opposite in looks, Jerio’s yellow hair came down to her waist in three long braids, and her bright blue eyes turned up slightly at the corners. Her mouth was small and her nose just a bit long, but the effect was stunning on one as healthy and well-cared-for as she. Today she wore knee length robes embroidered with willow leaves and berries, with bell-shaped sleeves that were long enough to cover half her palms.
She had been looking at a selection of fruits offered by a tired-looking old woman and was about to turn away when she noticed a small boy reach up to the table next to her. He took an apple as another child, a girl perhaps a year older, asked the old woman about the availability of strawberries. Both children were thin and dressed in the homespun garments of the working poor. The old woman politely told the girl that strawberries would not be available until the wind moon, and the girl replied with thanks and walked away. Jerio pretended not to see the boy take a second piece of fruit, presumably for his sister, and instead gave the old woman a senvi to pay for both apples. Ree-Lin saw the old woman look toward the direction the children had gone, and then give a humble bow to Jerio that she returned in kind.
She has a good heart, Ree-Lin thought with pride as she walked over to join her honorary little sister.
The Geiko sighed and chided herself for her maternal ponderings, but she was prone to introspection, and couldn’t help but wonder at Jerio’s future. She is so young to the ways of the world. How do I prepare her for the realities of life without scaring her from living it? The world is changing and this last war was a sure sign that more will come.
Ree-Lin’s thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a young man approaching Jerio as she walked on to the next booth. The Geiko scrutinized him. Dressed as a foot vendor, basket of flowers, clean and well-groomed as required by city permits. No trace of weapons.
Ree-Lin kept one eye on her charge and one eye on the young man as she closed the remaining distance of three paces. He offered Jerio the purchase of a flower and the girl respectfully declined. The vendor bowed slightly with polite acknowledgment and then looked up to see Ree-Lin stopped next to him. He blanched for a second when he realized she was focusing her professional attention on him, then recovered by giving her the traditional greeting of respect, his main and second fingers held together pointing up with his other two fingers touching the thumb as he touched them to his sternum and bowed a full quarter. The gesture was of one who owed respect to the other for reasons known to all; in this case it was because the Geiko had played an important part in ending the war that the festival of lights was organized to celebrate.
Not a threat, she thought as she bowed back to acknowledge his greeting.
A few people passing by at the busy festival noticed the display and also gave her the greeting. Ree-Lin noticed Jerio beaming every time she received the sign. She, however, felt differently about the attention. They need to let me do my job. I have greeted at least three score, and I am in danger of losing my focus. She bowed again and returned to her duty as bodyguard.
Jerio stopped at a pastry booth, staring at the display of fragrant orange rolls and cinnamon crisps. With anticipation in her eyes she turned back to see that Ree-Lin had caught up with her. Ree-Lin was older than her companion by nine years, and looked more like a student than the warrior bodyguard of house Zai. She smiled at the unasked question and nodded her approval.
“Would you like me to buy you a pastry as well?” Jerio asked.
“No, I would prefer to wait for a more nutritious snack of felfey with sweet leaf, thank you,” she answered. Ree-Lin referred to the traditional grilled lamb with spice, wrapped in a bread pocket and garnished with the green sea vegetable. The savory smell filled the air and mixed with the orange and lemon pastry scents as well as several other delicious treats from other booths around the festival ground.
Jerio considered her answer and replied, “You are correct, that would be the best place to start. We will have orange rolls afterward.”
Ree-Lin laughed and they walked over to the nearby felfey booth together.
The festival celebrated the victory of the Liona province over the Swadin province. Yellow and red lights representing their homeland intermingled with the blue lights of humility to the emperor and the violet ones of victory over an honorable enemy.
Ree-Lin had fought as the surrogate for the eldest daughter of a wealthy textile merchant. Her patron, the family Zai, had a standing member on the guild masters’ council that represented the lesser families in the textile guild. The eldest daughter, Salthi, was being trained to take over her mother’s place on the council when the Elder Zai retired. It spoke well of the family that they could afford the adoption of a Geiko from one of the sanctioned orphanages, where children were trained in fighting arts and scholarship. Ree-Lin had come to the family when she was ten years old, and had spent holidays and school breaks with them until she was finished with her training. Then she came to live with the family as bodyguard, tutor, and substitute for the first daughter in the event of war.
Jerio’s face glowed beneath the reflection of the multicolored lanterns and her unreserved smile warmed Ree-Lin’s heart. Such genuine expression; she is a welcome sight after seeing so many young faces dead on the battlefield. She shook her head. No, I need to forget that right now; she will say I am brooding and it will spoil her joy this evening. Her thoughts suddenly brought home just how much she missed her junior sister while she served as assistant to the Tardan in the recent battles. The war, started over a water dispute on the shared river border, was less than ten moons long, but bloody all the same.
After Jerio purchased their meal, the two sat at a bench to eat, shoulder to shoulder. Ree-Lin faced east on the bench and Jerio faced west. In this manner they would not be surprised by attack, yet still faced one another as they talked.
“Ree-Lin,” Jerio spoke between bites. “How does it feel to be in battle? I mean ... what is it like?”
She considered the questions until she had finished her own mouthful of food. “It is like nothing on earth, and everything we fear from man.”
Ree-Lin saw Jerio’s left eyebrow rise in unspoken inquiry, so she continued. “Think of the comforts of home and family, now think of what you would feel if nothing you knew was there anymore. Think of the fear of knowing that when you lay down to sleep the enemy plots to kill you, and that the next time you eat or drink might be the last.”
“That does not sound very romantic or heroic,” Jerio said.
Ree-Lin knew that the girl meant no disrespect by her words, so she did not admonish or humor her. “It is not romantic or heroic ... that domain is for the storytellers and politicians.”
Jerio hesitated but asked further, “What is killing like? Is it ... horrible?”
“It is.”
“But what—”
Ree-Lin interrupted, “My little sister, imagine for a moment that a stranger ... anyone here for instance—” she gestured around her, “is an enemy, and you knew that by killing that person you could either end a war or escalate one, but you won’t know what the outcome will be. Now imagine you are asked to kill that person, up close or far away, and live with the uncertainty of the outcome and the knowledge that you killed someone.”
Jerio stopped eating for a moment and looked around. She saw a mother carrying a baby and walking next to a man that might have been her husband, two older children laughing at a third who was juggling badly, and several clusters of older men and women conversing with one another and buying food. “Yes, it would definitely be horrible.” She looked down at her felfey and did not seem
interested in finishing it. “I’m sorry, Ree-Lin, I do not want to make you think about such things when you should be enjoying yourself and relaxing.”
Ree-Lin finished her food and smiled at Jerio, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “You are trying to find out where you want to be in the world. If I cannot answer the nosy questions of my little sister, who will?”
Jerio laughed and resumed eating.
I could never find offense in any of her inquiries, Ree-Lin thought as she studied the girl. She is a thoughtful person with natural ambitions and a desire to do what’s right by those she loves. How can anyone be offended by that?
Jerio rose after she finished her felfey, wiping her mouth on the paper it had been wrapped in. “Where should we get a dagger cuff for Salthi?” she asked while looking around for a trash container.
“That depends upon whether it will be ceremonial or functional,” Ree-Lin answered as she rose to walk beside Jerio. The Geiko’s tone teased because she knew Jerio would buy a purely ornamental dagger cuff, given Salthi’s position as an attaché for the textile guild. As the eldest child of the House Zai, it was the sister’s duty to represent not only her honored family, but also the honor of the lesser families working under her family’s banner. Salthi was barely trained in dagger fighting, but was expected to wear one as a symbol of the first child’s duty to defend the province and if necessary, the emperor. Ree-Lin, as was the custom, would fight in her place.
Ree-Lin’s own dagger cuff was functional and forged of heavy striling. Its only decoration was a gelden engraving of the Phoenix of Liona holding the textile banner of the House Zai. Just above the cuff a long red gash from the last battle marred her arm, healing well, but not quickly enough for Ree-Lin. She resisted the urge to scratch it and pointed instead to a booth selling fine ceremonial daggers and cuffs.
This cut needs to heal faster; I am sick of its throb and itch. The Geiko sighed at her thoughts. I sound like a novice whining at her first real wound. I was lucky that assassin didn’t cut my arm clean off. He never should have been allowed to get as close as he did.
Ree-Lin had earned more than the traditional honor when she took the wound to her wrist during a dagger fight while defending her Tordan in an ambush. Her defeat of the would-be assassin from Swadin had raised the status of her host family to Defender of the Province. House Zai could now be called Zai-Prin. The family was more than grateful to their Geiko for the honor bestowed upon them.
The pair looked at every cuff on the vendor’s table. The impressive selection of metal cuffs of all types winked and flashed in the fading sunlight, decorated with everything from etchings to jeweled inlays. Jerio asked intelligent questions of the vendor while Ree-Lin observed. She is an excellent negotiator and clearly knows the value of what she is looking at; I will offer no assistance with her choice, she thought with pride.
A merchant’s daughter was expected to know matters of business, but Jerio took to negotiating with a rare grace and charm. As the second daughter of a noble house with four children, she was free to choose her place in society. Jerio was trying to decide between studying to be a bodyguard, like Ree-Lin, or to become a trade attaché, and follow in her true sister’s footsteps.
Ree-Lin watched the crowd as the girl questioned the vendor and scanned every person who approached and walked by. Assassins could be lurking anywhere and disguising themselves as anyone. A festival is one of the worst places to guard someone. We should probably spend no more time here than necessary, especially as it gets darker. She chided herself at the morbid thoughts. Even safe in our own province I cannot help suspecting danger at every turn.
A man wrapped in the green robes of a traveling messenger slowly approached. A badge on his robe identified him as a courier from Swift Dark, a service that prided itself on traveling quickly and at night. His presence at a festival after dark, when he should be on the road, raised suspicion.
Perhaps it is his day off, Ree-Lin thought. The Geiko studied his movements and looked for weapons. His eyes met hers for a moment before he approached the neighboring vendor. He did not seem to recognize her position of honor, but that meant little if he were indeed an assassin; a good one feigned indifference until the moment they struck. She kept her hand ready on her staff and continued to watch. The merchant of that booth seemed to be expecting him and handed him an envelope and a few coins of payment after greeting him.
No threat, she concluded.
Another patron, a man of considerable age, approached the booth where Jerio negotiated her purchase. He was nicely dressed and leaned slightly on a walking cane. When he noticed Ree-Lin he bowed a bit, but did not give the usual greeting.
He does not appear to be a threat, she thought as she bowed her greeting in return. His age is genuine, and he has clouded eyes that probably impair his vision. The only way he could be an assassin is if he were a poisoner. Although ...
A woman of matron age that Ree-Lin recognized from town walked up to the old man behind her. “Greetings, Elder Min-lo ...”
Not a threat, she thought, keeping her eyes on Jerio and an ear on the conversation going on near her.
After a respectable amount of haggling, Jerio chose a gelden cuff with an overlay of striling lined with rare cherly copra, a decorative metal that changed color according to the available light, and was highly prized as a testament to an artist’s skill in design work. A ruby-eyed winged serpent design wrapped its tail around the entire band.
“Good choice, little sister,” Ree-Lin said, one eye still on the man in the hood and messenger’s badge. Jerio smiled at the praise and paid the merchant, then bowed to him and turned back to Ree-Lin.
“You are suspicious of the messenger?” she asked as they moved away from the booth and allowed the next customer proper room to negotiate.
She does not miss much; this is good, thought the bodyguard. “I am glad you noticed. Tell me why you think he caught my attention.”
Jerio smiled, obviously pleased at Ree-Lin’s encouragement. “He was dressed as a Swift Dark, but he is here after nightfall ... and he did not greet you when he saw you.”
“Good observation; can you tell me if he was armed?”
“He should be carrying a dagger or short sword for self defense. I did not see the end of a sword, so I would guess he had only the dagger,” Jerio replied.
“What else could he have had?”
The girl thought for a moment. “He could have had a garrote, throwing stars or spikes, batons in his sleeves ... he could be an assassin, for all we know.”
“True.”
“Do you think he was?” she asked with a hint of teenage excitement.
The Geiko smiled and put her arm around Jerio’s shoulder, “What have I taught you?”
Jerio smiled back and squeezed the hand Ree-Lin had on the girl’s arm. “That when an assassin is good you won’t know until they make their move, and when they are bad they still might get lucky.”
“And if they do get lucky?”
“Fight like it might be your last moment on earth.”
“Better to keep them from getting lucky, I think.”
“You will turn me into a paranoid old woman yet,” Jerio said.
“Better than a young dead one,” Ree-Lin replied.
Ree-Lin was tiring of the festival, the constant barrage of greetings, and her throbbing wound.
Jerio noticed her rubbing the fresh scar gently in an attempt to stop the itching without disturbing the stitches. “Would you like to head home?” she asked.
Ree-Lin sighed slightly. “I do not wish to spoil your evening, but, yes ... I think that ...”
She was interrupted by a small girl, who approached the pair and greeted them with a deep bow. “Would you like to—to—get your fortunes done by m-my m-mistress, the Lady Alima?”
The child was young, perhaps six years of age, and dressed in bright colors worthy of a fore-tellers’ assistant. However, the garishness of her baggy, ill-fitting fuchsia and
yellow robe overwhelmed her pale yellow hair and fair skin.
Poor child, she must be inexperienced, thought Ree-Lin before saying to Jerio, “I do not wish my fortune told, but perhaps you would?”
Jerio nodded, and another smile lit up her face. “Could we? You know I would like guidance on which profession I should choose, and it should not take very long,” Jerio said to Ree-Lin.
Ree-Lin smiled at her sister’s excitement. She hoped that the girl would choose diplomatic attaché, as she possessed a natural friendliness and the excellent manners and tact important to diplomatic postings. It also required an intelligent mind and firm convictions, both qualities that Ree-Lin felt Jerio exhibited.
It would certainly be safer ... well, safer than bodyguard.
If she chose that career, bodyguards would still need to be assigned to Salthi and to Jerio. Ree-Lin knew she could only be an effective bodyguard for one of the girls but not both; the dilemma was compounded if Jerio chose to be a Geiko as well. Then her training would be handled by Ree-Lin, and another would need to be employed for Salthi. Normally this would be a simple matter, but Ree-Lin trusted very few people to protect her adopted sisters, and had yet to agree to any of the applicants who petitioned. Sometimes I wish I were two people instead of one.
Ree-Lin realized that the child still waited for a reply, “Yes, we will visit your mistress,” she said with a nod.
“Thank you. P-please come with m-me,” she said before leading the pair away through the crowd.
They followed the child, who led them to an indigo-colored tent with bright gray streamers and wind crystals decorating the entrance. The child lifted the tent flap to one side and waited for the pair to enter. Ree-Lin took two gelden coins out of her own side pocket to pay the teller’s assistant, as was the custom. Children could not buy a fortune without an escort, and in any case the fee was never paid directly to the teller. It was considered bad luck for one so young to ask too many questions about matters that perhaps shouldn’t be revealed until the right time. Thus a young person had to be accompanied inside by an elder who could correctly judge the questions asked as worthy of answer.
Women of War Page 19