Blood Sabers

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Blood Sabers Page 9

by Burbaugh, MF;


  I watched, I felt, I remembered. “That.” pow, “black,” pow, “bitch,” pow, pow, “was my wife.” Pow, pow, pow, all dead or something close. I remember a girl full of arrows saying, “I love—” and dying in my arms. I swear it felt like I was right there. I felt sorrow and hate and love. Maybe from the book? I remembered reading it now that I saw it.

  “Weird,” I said aloud.

  “The feeling you were there? Happens to a lot of people. It is as gut wrenching now as it was that day, and our nation mourned a great victory,” he said.

  “That queen was black. I have only seen blue people.”

  “The Koteck were made by an evil demi-god we call the Creator’s Mate. They enslaved peoples from different star systems over several thousand years. One blue and one black were among the last. They then managed to almost destroy themselves and the planet in a war among themselves. The Blacks that escaped went south, the Blues likewise went north, and the Koteck and slaves that didn’t get away stayed in the equatorial regions. When the sun darkened as the Firsts took energy from the system, the Koteck decided they wanted all the remaining resources of a dying planet and warred the south. We recovered a few from slave pens, but they barely hold onto their culture and identity today,” he said.

  “Interesting, they look a lot like the Australian Aborigines.” I said. I had been there once for some training.

  “Not American or African Blacks?” Rodel said with a questioning tone.

  “No, the indigenous Aussies have many with the blond and even some red hair ones and different eye colors too,” I told him. “Mostly when they are young, as I understand.”

  “I will research that. I will need to go back through my old Earth files. They have been removed due to memory and code updating. You care to see more?” he asked.

  “Something more happy, maybe?” I asked.

  “The four royal weddings and demonstrations are Regal, well, for a bunch of half-naked Barbarians, they were.”

  After I watched all four scenes, I said, “The Linda I met in the shop is almost the same as that one, very close,” I noted. “Except she is blue.”

  “Yes, she is a descendant of hers.”

  Next, he ran The General as he called him, one of his early sword demonstrations. Again as slow as he could go. Amazing was an understatement. Rodel said, “Reminds me, one of his great-great-grandsons has his swords and is also a master. Almost a match too.”

  I was a few minutes into The General battling the Bronze Goddess called Linda when Sylvia came in. She said she was okay, kissed me, and sat and watched the fight with me. After a bit she screamed, “You see that? You see that damned move? My God!”

  A bit later she screeched again, “There, he did it again!” She was shaking me so hard my teeth ratted and the Goddess stopped dead. The General pulled off and she told him she had never seen anyone but some Japanese warrior hundreds of years ago do it, and she saw it twice. Sylvia did too. The match ended in broken wooden swords.

  Rodel was sobbing through the speaker. “You saw? You both saw? You aren’t pulling my leg, well, if I had one. Truth! You saw?” He was, um, shocked.

  “I saw most of it, yes, but they were both so damn fast it was hard to follow. I saw him pull some weird foot and hand movements I didn’t think a body could do. As Sylvia said, two times. Truth,” I said.

  Sylvia said, “Of course, it wasn’t that fast, his foot work was truly fantastic! From where I came in I think the girl was a little slow off the mark but got better fast. By the end I think she had the upper hand, but the guy looked extremely tired by then.”

  Rodel, a computer, was stammering. “In over 250 years maybe a million times it has been shown. All except a special few said it was just a blur.” But two aliens come and see it happen.” He was talking to himself.

  “If I may, Lady Sylvia, might I show you a couple other clips? The first is the death of our Queen Queastra. John has already viewed it. Reaction for the record. The rest are real and deadly sword plays by our queens and The General. Some are very, very gruesome, but I truly want a reaction to each. I, I don’t know, you saw them fight!”

  “Can I watch too?” I asked.

  “Only if you will be quiet until it is all over. This is a very important experiment to me,” he said. “Swords have almost religious meaning here.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good, get the door and invite them in. Also some tea is coming for all.” Rodel said, as there was a knock. I said come in; Sylvia started to say something, but stopped. The Chief, a guy with a jeweled blood red sword hanging from a sash, and the very pretty young woman from the honors shop, came in and sat down.

  “Rodel, if you are wasting my time I will pull out your tubes one at a time and watch you die!” Chief said.

  “You know I don’t have any tubes, so can the crap and try to be almost human,” he snickered, and the girl laughed.

  “The gentleman with the sword is the great-great-great-grandson of The General in the video and one of our three current Grand Masters in swords. The other two are council ladies and are off training troops at the moment.”

  “The young lady holding the bokken sets is our weapon smith, Patricia; you met her. A couple grand’s removed daughter of Latwasa, maker of the Twin Swords of Power for the Bronze Goddess and King Jake.” She bowed as did the Master guy.

  I bowed and Sylvia bowed.

  “I wait for the only person in Camelot who has refused to see the clips of the fights. I think you met her, Princess Linda Spoonbill,” he said. “Bitch, it is time, I think. I sense trouble, as I know you do. She must be ordered to watch it.”

  I smiled.

  She saw it and said, “I may not be able to hit Rodel, since I broke his metal jaw he stays out of range, but I can tear an arm off; keep it up.” She smiled. I didn’t.

  The door knock came and I said come in. Linda entered and said hello, and she was told by Chief in no terms doubtful that she would join Sylvia and watch the show.

  I gave all some tea and pulled up a chair alongside the sword guy behind the couch.

  The battle between the Bronze Goddess and The General came up again. We watched the first of the great moves and Rodel froze it.

  “Your opinion, Sylvia?”

  “I don’t see how he gets that combo together at all. It’s like he wills his body to reform into the third position,” Sylvia said.

  “Linda? Your comments?” Rodel asked.

  “The General is one of the few humans known to be able to do the—um—Mushi move that I am aware of.”

  The Sword guy stared at her, The Chief was dumb struck. I tried to figure why it was so important.

  Rodel said, “Close, Musashi. You remember a first name?”

  “Mya, mia, Miya, Miyamoto Musashi, an early swordsman I think, challenged all his teachers or something, never lost a fight in his life.” She beamed.

  “Where did you learn that, Linda? Please?” Rodel asked.

  “School I think, maybe at work, someone talking. Is it important?”

  “Not really, just curious. Shall we continue?” He ran it until the second time it happened and Sylvia shook her head. “It is impossible to do that!”

  Rodel asked, “You use the sword, Lady Sylvia?”

  “Well, no, but I always loved watching the movies. Most are so phony, but these, even with wooden swords, a mistake and someone could have been killed. I just sense it,” she said.

  “Linda, your feelings on it?” he asked.

  “The Goddess is good, The General is better, but I see vast improvements in her style. I, of course, received my official training years ago. You can tell she prefers a two bladed weapon like in the bed chamber, rather than the Japanese type,” she said. “Again, I’ve seen them and know our history.”

  “Good, she did, but she was a master in any blade. Even as a human.”

  The death of the queen was replayed. As they moved forward, a Koteck guy holding a spear had his arm cut off.


  Sylvia said, “That wasn’t The General!”

  Rodel stopped and backed up and played it again; it was little more than a flick and his arm was gone.

  “See, angle’s all wrong, style and grip are different too. Even the sword is different,” she said.

  “Any idea who it might have been?” Rodel asked.

  “No but it was a woman from her hands. Young too.”

  Next were two beautiful girls with more wooden sticks against the Goddess. One had Red battledress, another blue. They fought hard, but the Goddess beat all but one hit. "Of course, the one in the blue, it was her, look at the hands and stance. It’s obvious isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Not to me,” I said. I got one royal ass chewing for talking.

  Linda agreed, “Had to be; the other, Queen Aawasa, holds her’s more traditionally. Queen Katawasa’s grip was slightly different, her own style I think. A little more free and relaxed.”

  “Both are correct,” Rodel said.

  This next one I felt in my gut. A guy running upstairs, dead bodies all over. At the same time the same two women slicing apart men by what seemed like the hundreds. A woman and a baby sitting on the floor in the corner. Some Koteck jumps out a window, another is shot and the clip ended.

  I felt woozy and, unfortunately, it was noticed.

  “Two of our finest swordswomen protecting Aawasa’s baby during the assassination attempt on King Jake. They still show that one in school,” Linda said.

  I noticed Sylvia was sweating profusely, clenching her hands, even shaking a bit. “I, I, they wanted to kill the baby!”

  Chief said, “Anyone think no?”

  Nothing.

  “Now why? We have no threat. Humans rule the universe, the Father has his mate, and we have Rodel. No reason for them to show again and only after 250 years.”

  I goofed again, “No, the HH, they hunt us.”

  All looked at me. Rodel said “What? Who are they?” he asked.

  “You have our ship files?” I asked.

  “Well, yes, access to them, but I haven’t gone through much until I re-install my old Earth files,” he said.

  “Access a file called First Contact-Explorer #1. It is a video, you can show it,” I said.

  As he played it I said, “Our President, Secretary of State, and a few scientists went to meet them with open arms.” The vid showed all entering the ship and taking off. Next, the humans letting in the aliens.

  The hatch closed, the humans took off their helmets and each head was slowly removed. When the last of the screams died, a jump to a long-range view showed the ship accelerate, loop, and crash into the big one, then go nova.

  “Damn,” the guy with the sword said. “Almost as bad as the Koteck.”

  Rodel said, “That is the same type of ship that came through a few years back. Royal Yacht #2 tried to catch it, but they got away. We thought it was a lost colony someplace.”

  Sylvia said, “They are not lost!”

  “Well, we have the why, we need the seers to find the missing two ASAP,” Chief said.

  Chief said to Sylvia, “Look, I know a lot of this is weird and strange, but you will find the answers on your own.”

  Nothing else was said as they all went out the door. Linda came back in and told Sylvia, “I shouldn’t go against Chief, but think of swimming in an ice hole and a cave.” She kissed Sylvia on the forehead and left.

  “Strange folks, nice, but very strange,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Sylvia said. “It’s very late, let’s get some sleep.”

  I woke the next morning; she was already up and showered. She was sipping a cup of coffee, humming, and combing her hair. I took the comb out of her hand and continued combing it for her.

  “A girl in ice water with blue skin pulled to the surface and is in a cave with a fire?” I asked.

  “You had the dream too?” she asked, eyes darting into mine.

  “No, I don’t think so. I re-read his book is all.”

  “I had the dream and I never read his book since the Academy,” she said.

  “I get the distinct feeling we are stepping into a pile of hot shit, barefoot,” I told her.

  “But on a cold day that feels so good squishing between the toes.” She grinned.

  I bent to kiss her; she said, “Shoot, know what tomorrow is? Our official reception and our wedding day.”

  “And it is a bad situation because?” I asked.

  “Because after that we get a two day honeymoon and I don’t know if I can be ready for that.” She rubbed lightly on the bandage on her stomach.

  Rodel came on and said, “No fear, you will both be fine, believe me.”

  “How did he die? I didn’t see anything,” I asked.

  “Who?” Rodel asked.

  “This King Jake guy.”

  “Most tragic, he was skiing. Waved to Aawasa and wasn’t watching, hit a rock, lost his control and died on impact with a tree.”

  “Damn, that sucks. Still young?” I asked.

  “Yes he was, um, 98 Earth years old. Aawasa died of a broken heart three weeks later. Katawasa died giving birth to his child three months after that. No medical reason. Linda died of a heart attack the day after the last child was wed.

  “He was 98 and a new father? Quite a man!” Sylvia said.

  “Yes, his wives all thought so,” Rodel said. “Jake loved his wives and they loved him.”

  He almost sounded wistful. “Well, when you two are ready, you have a museum date, then by the blacksmith real quick. Then John has a meeting with The Chief and you with Linda. Times a wasting, chop, chop.” Now that was truly an old saying.

  I grabbed a shower and a cup of tea and we were off.

  The museum sign said it was the Camelot Museum of History.

  Inside were five paintings. A man with a woman on the left and three on the right.

  Red, blue, white, and white-with-blue mixed, battle dresses. Rodel explained, “Linda wore white and pale blue as her color, which was hers, and Jake’s sword colors and armor. On official matters, she wore white in respect to Queastra as the true third Queen. For the painting, she wore the white/blue. All are in combat attire; the dress isn’t much really, it is a version of the Amazonian warriors’ dress depicted by Homer at Troy. The women prefer it to the full battle armor they really wore. In order, they are Queen Aawasa, King Jake, Queen Katawasa, Queen Queastra, and Queen Linda.” He paused a second and said, “Quite a group of women. Master swordswomen, master lovers, master archers, and wives all. They loved one man, and one people, the tribe, totally and unselfishly to their dying days. Linda gave up being a Goddess and traded it all for the love of Jake and making Camelot happen.”

  I noticed Sylvia crying a little. “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “No, something right, first time in my life other than with you I feel something is right.” She kissed me. “Don’t you feel the dedication they all had? The joy and pain they felt. You can see it in their eyes—look close.”

  As I did. “Ouch,” I said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Like all the women are trying to rip my soul out and are caressing it at the same time. Hurts a bit,” I said.

  Rodel said, laughing, “They were often accused by Jake of doing that to him. Maybe it was more than his head in the clouds.”

  Next was the display case, four pair of silk panties and battle dresses. Red, blue, white/blue and a pair covered in brown, dried blood, with a bloody dove necklace alongside. Above each was a handmade formal silk dress of the same colors except the pale blue, which looked like cotton and plain-some ancient Earth style.

  I ran my hand over the glass of the pale blue item.

  “Linda’s wedding dress on Earth the night they died, before her soul came here. It showed up here soaking wet. She married Jake in it.” Rodel was choking up. “After her daughter went to the Father as his companion, she became a human woman.

  “This next picture is an artist’s rendition of me
playing the soul harp one last time to celebrate the Father’s wish being fulfilled. They said I played it for two years straight—it felt like a few minutes. There are several strengths I can play it at. They said a few hours were hard on everyone, and I switched to a very light background. I remember none of it really.” He sounded reflective. “Harp! Of course; damn what a dunce!” he almost shouted. “Sorry, we are looking for some others. One doesn’t know it yet, nor do we know her. We have need of a harpist for the wedding!”

  “A harp at the wedding?” I asked.

  “Of course not, we don’t even have one. I prefer bagpipes myself, but you’ll probably want the organ, correct?”

  “It is more traditional, yes.” Sylvia smiled.

  “Figures, the bagpipes are so much more soothing to me.” He laughed, almost a gut wrenching guffaw.

  We moved on. I saw a gun. “A 44 cal belt fed?” I asked.

  “Yes, standard issue back then,” he said.

  “Excellent weapon, I’m told. You have an equal?”

  “We don’t use firearms much, far too modern. It is better to look someone in the eyes when you kill them, don’t you think? You draw a sword there is no doubt of the intention.”

  We saw ancient books, clay tablets, and a rusty old cutlass with a rotten wooden handle. A picture of a plane, and depictions of three very pretty necklaces. Red, blue and green.

  Sylvia’s hand ran slowly over the red one, like some lost picture that had been found.

  “All hand-made by Jake and a little help from Katawasa on two of them. We call them the royal jewels. The king’s wives each wear them at official functions.”

  “What is your favorite color, Sir?” he asked me.

  “Um, probably the royal blue. Seems most regal,” I said.

  “Lady Sylvia?”

  “The red I guess. I always liked it,” she said.

  “Yes, those colors would suit you both,” he said.

  “The next items you should recognize from Earth.”

  We moved over to a different display case. Inside were four bows and two crossbows.

 

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