Andrev led the reindeer to his chosen spot along the edge of the riverbank. He wouldn’t have to tether them; they listened to him and would obediently graze nearby while he pitched his tent.
He made quick work of his lean-to, a patchwork of furs and skins. His bed was another pallet of furs he’d collected over the years, more from his own hunting and scavenging than Savva knew; the women had never wanted to give him clothes or blankets despite the shaman’s insistence that every woman was mother to the boy who was a gift from the gods.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Summer Plains
It took another four days to reach the summer plains, but once the massive encampment came into sight on the horizon, Andrev felt hope soar. He could take the reindeer to the edge of everything, just by the river, and hide for all three months. As long as he brought his share of food back to the tribe, he could roam free and study the animals, trees, plants how he chose.
Savva didn’t look twice at Andrev to dispatch him to set the reindeer for grazing; Savva cared about the massive market built in the midst of all the tribes.
Savva didn’t look twice at Andrev to dispatch him to set the reindeer for grazing; Savva cared about the massive market built in the midst of all the tribes.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Savva's Son
The tribe caught up with Kir and the other hunters mid-morning the next day. Most of them wore shiny new trinkets and exchanged sly grins. Andrev walked at the rear of the caravan, driving the reindeer.
“Kir, you positively glitter with jewelry,” Savva called out, proud of his son.
Kir tossed his head and preened. “There are many lovely girls in our sister-tribes.”
Andrev resisted the urge to make a low remark that there were many people in Kir’s own tribe who’d gone without food the night before. But everyone was pleased for Kir; he was Savva’s son.
“Kir, you positively glitter with jewelry,” Savva called out, proud of his son.
Kir tossed his head and preened. “There are many lovely girls in our sister-tribes.”
Andrev resisted the urge to make a low remark that there were many people in Kir’s own tribe who’d gone without food the night before. But everyone was pleased for Kir; he was Savva’s son.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Shelter from the Midnight Wind
The matrons of the tribe looked up, surprised, when Andrev set down a rack of fresh, unconscious but still-living fish for gutting and cleaning.
“Where are Kir and the others?” one woman asked.
“Fetching trinkets from girls,” Andrev said. “The nearest tribe is half a day’s journey. Expect Kir and the others home tomorrow.”
The women exchanged looks; they knew that Andrev would never receive a trinket from a girl. Andrev shouldered his spear and headed toward the edge of camp where he’d made his own bed for the night. The reindeer would shelter him from the midnight wind.
“Where are Kir and the others?” one woman asked.
“Fetching trinkets from girls,” Andrev said. “The nearest tribe is half a day’s journey. Expect Kir and the others home tomorrow.”
The women exchanged looks; they knew that Andrev would never receive a trinket from a girl. Andrev shouldered his spear and headed toward the edge of camp where he’d made his own bed for the night. The reindeer would shelter him from the midnight wind.
Friday, October 9, 2009
When They Think I Can't Hear
Kir wanted him to be ashamed of what he was. Andrev had spent his whole life being ashamed. Sometimes, he was so ashamed that he became angry.
“They only say that because I hunt so well,” he said coolly. “But when they think I can’t hear they call me the spawn of a demon. Too bad I don’t have demon powers.” And he lifted his head, deliberately shook his hair out of his eyes.
The girl couldn’t even scream.
Andrev handed Kir his spear. “I’ll be at the river getting fresh fish for the women. See you back at camp.”
“They only say that because I hunt so well,” he said coolly. “But when they think I can’t hear they call me the spawn of a demon. Too bad I don’t have demon powers.” And he lifted his head, deliberately shook his hair out of his eyes.
The girl couldn’t even scream.
Andrev handed Kir his spear. “I’ll be at the river getting fresh fish for the women. See you back at camp.”
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Not Quick Enough
The exchange of trinkets - bracelets, necklaces - was the first step in courting. Kir usually received the most trinkets, but he still had yet to take a girl to wife. Andrev lingered at the rear of the pack, spear in hand. The river wasn’t far - he could slink off, catch some live fish, and return to Savva’s camp.
Only he wasn’t quick enough.
One lovely girl with hair like the midnight sky and skin the color of warm earth smiled at him, toying with her necklace. “This one is new, Kir.”
Kir’s smile turned cruel. “He’s a gift from the gods.”
Only he wasn’t quick enough.
One lovely girl with hair like the midnight sky and skin the color of warm earth smiled at him, toying with her necklace. “This one is new, Kir.”
Kir’s smile turned cruel. “He’s a gift from the gods.”
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Their Girls
The best thing about spring was that it meant the big migration - along the river, toward the summer plains. The summer plains meant crowds and crowds of people where it would be easy for Andrev to blend into the shadows and go about his tasks unnoticed. He liked seeing the other animals the other tribes brought, hearing about the places where they roamed most of the year.
But this year he was a hunter. That meant running ahead and scouting, bringing back food. That meant meeting other tribes and trying to court their girls.
He always made their girls scream.
But this year he was a hunter. That meant running ahead and scouting, bringing back food. That meant meeting other tribes and trying to court their girls.
He always made their girls scream.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Fishing
“I know your secret,” Kir said as he and Andrev stood side-by-side in the river, armed with spears.
“Oh?” Andrev asked.
“You’re half demon. That’s why you hunt so well,” Kir said.
“Maybe I’m a gift from the gods, destined to bring this tribe to greatness,” Andrev said dryly. He set his spear on the riverbank and reached into the clear water, hands poised.
Kir gaped. “What are you doing?”
Andrev closed his eyes, waited, listening for the tiny heartbeat, the frantic animal thoughts. And then he opened his eyes and closed his hands over a live fish.
“Oh?” Andrev asked.
“You’re half demon. That’s why you hunt so well,” Kir said.
“Maybe I’m a gift from the gods, destined to bring this tribe to greatness,” Andrev said dryly. He set his spear on the riverbank and reached into the clear water, hands poised.
Kir gaped. “What are you doing?”
Andrev closed his eyes, waited, listening for the tiny heartbeat, the frantic animal thoughts. And then he opened his eyes and closed his hands over a live fish.
Monday, October 5, 2009
What To Believe
That night, around the fire, Andrev sat away from the others as he always did, gnawing on his share of the antelope meat and steadily avoiding everyone’s gazes. He could hear the men and women whispering.
“Perhaps he really is a gift from the gods,” one of the women whispered. “If we’d had him hunt for us before, we never would have wanted for food.”
“I don’t trust him,” another woman said. “He might try to poison us.”
Andrev dared to glance at Kir where he sat with Savva and the other hunters. Now no one knew what to believe.
“Perhaps he really is a gift from the gods,” one of the women whispered. “If we’d had him hunt for us before, we never would have wanted for food.”
“I don’t trust him,” another woman said. “He might try to poison us.”
Andrev dared to glance at Kir where he sat with Savva and the other hunters. Now no one knew what to believe.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Aren't I?
Andrev strode into the camp and laid the antelope carcass at Savva’s feet. Savva stared.
Kir, who had leveled the butt of his spear at Andrev as if to strike him, almost dropped his spear.
“Will this please the women?” Andrev asked, voice low. He kept his head down, let his hair obscure his features.
“I - where did you find it?”
Andrev couldn’t keep the bitter, sardonic twist out of his voice. “Apparently the gods favor our tribe, my chief.”
“You killed it yourself?” Kir asked.
In reply, Andrev leveled the bloody spear at him. “I’m a hunter, aren’t I?”
Kir, who had leveled the butt of his spear at Andrev as if to strike him, almost dropped his spear.
“Will this please the women?” Andrev asked, voice low. He kept his head down, let his hair obscure his features.
“I - where did you find it?”
Andrev couldn’t keep the bitter, sardonic twist out of his voice. “Apparently the gods favor our tribe, my chief.”
“You killed it yourself?” Kir asked.
In reply, Andrev leveled the bloody spear at him. “I’m a hunter, aren’t I?”
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Before He Threw
He walked toward the trees, toward the place where he knew the antelope went to drink every morning. Most days, he did his best to ignore the chatter of the animals around him, hyperaware of the fact that others could not hear what he heard. But he knew when rabbits nested underfoot, when a falcon soared overhead, when a fox was protecting new cubs in her den.
He came across an antelope and her young, and he lifted his spear. It should have been to heavy for him, but he wasn’t like the other boys.
He apologized before he threw.
He came across an antelope and her young, and he lifted his spear. It should have been to heavy for him, but he wasn’t like the other boys.
He apologized before he threw.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Opposites
Andrev murmured a soft farewell to the reindeer and rose to his feet, crossed the camp, kept his head bowed so his long hair obscured his face.
Savva handed him a spear. “It is almost daybreak. Go with Kir and the others. Come back with something big and fat to please the women, yes?”
Andrev took the spear in one hand, tested its weight. It was heavier than most, designed for an experienced hunter.
Kir started for the edge of camp. “This way, Andrev.” He spoke as if he addressed a dog.
Andrev turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Savva handed him a spear. “It is almost daybreak. Go with Kir and the others. Come back with something big and fat to please the women, yes?”
Andrev took the spear in one hand, tested its weight. It was heavier than most, designed for an experienced hunter.
Kir started for the edge of camp. “This way, Andrev.” He spoke as if he addressed a dog.
Andrev turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
He Will Hunt
Andrev heard the tribe council whispering, wondering what to do with the cursed child.
“He will never marry, never learn a trade - no one would trade with a demon,” Savva said.
“Perhaps,” his son Kir said, “he will hunt. Look at him - he is weak and frail. A large animal would kill him easily.”
Andrev pretended he heard nothing and continued feeding the reindeer. Kir was his own age, professed to be a loving step-sibling, but his cruelty was blatant, if ignored by the elders.
Savva called out. “Andrev, come over here and take a spear, hunt with Kir.”
“He will never marry, never learn a trade - no one would trade with a demon,” Savva said.
“Perhaps,” his son Kir said, “he will hunt. Look at him - he is weak and frail. A large animal would kill him easily.”
Andrev pretended he heard nothing and continued feeding the reindeer. Kir was his own age, professed to be a loving step-sibling, but his cruelty was blatant, if ignored by the elders.
Savva called out. “Andrev, come over here and take a spear, hunt with Kir.”
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sleeping Outside Camp
The answer was messy hair. If Andrev ducked away from the shearer’s knife for long enough and let his hair grow, let it tumble into his eyes, no one could see the horns. They could pretend they didn’t know what he hid, pretend they had forgotten what he really was.
The other boys picked on him when the adults weren’t watching; tripped him up as he walked, flung stones, tried to dunk him in the river. He learned not to fight back, but he learned to get away.
He learned, over time, that it wasn’t so bad, sleeping outside camp.
The other boys picked on him when the adults weren’t watching; tripped him up as he walked, flung stones, tried to dunk him in the river. He learned not to fight back, but he learned to get away.
He learned, over time, that it wasn’t so bad, sleeping outside camp.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Talking Back
People disliked Andrev, but he disliked them right back, so he didn’t mind eating alone on the edge of the firelight or sleeping curled up with the deer who pulled the sleds across the Steppes. The deer liked him - he fed them, watered them and pulled burrs out of their pelts when they walked through prickly brambles.
Sometimes, when other people weren’t around, the deer talked to him, told him when a storm was coming or when they were going the wrong way, that they usually headed a little more easterly.
Sometimes, when other people weren’t around, Andrev talked back.
Sometimes, when other people weren’t around, the deer talked to him, told him when a storm was coming or when they were going the wrong way, that they usually headed a little more easterly.
Sometimes, when other people weren’t around, Andrev talked back.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Only a Child
Andrev had known the story for as long he knew what knowing was: they found him in a cave, abandoned by his dead mother’s side. Some whispered that his father was a demon, but never when he could hear. They’d smile weakly at him and tell him he was a gift from the gods, and they were all blessed to have him.
He knew he wasn’t blessed - he was cursed. The five tiny bony bumps on his forehead were a curse. He was the son of a horned demon, and they were afraid of him.
But he was only child.
He knew he wasn’t blessed - he was cursed. The five tiny bony bumps on his forehead were a curse. He was the son of a horned demon, and they were afraid of him.
But he was only child.
Interlude 5
Rain turned his colorless hair into moonlight-white. Lightning flashed in the sky, sharp slashes of energy reflected in the momentary pitch-black of his eyes.
The mother’s cries pierced above the ominous veil of thunder, and he had to strain to hear the voice of her child. The third wound in his shoulder began to tingle and itch when he heard the first lusty cry of infant life.
He sensed it, moments later, when the mother’s life flickered, then faded, as if swept away in the driving wind. In the distance, a caravan approached. They would find the child.
The mother’s cries pierced above the ominous veil of thunder, and he had to strain to hear the voice of her child. The third wound in his shoulder began to tingle and itch when he heard the first lusty cry of infant life.
He sensed it, moments later, when the mother’s life flickered, then faded, as if swept away in the driving wind. In the distance, a caravan approached. They would find the child.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
First Demonstration
“Where’s Old Master?” Rastaban asked.
“He’s gone.”
“As in dead?”
“As in doing necessary work.” Shanka hoisted her pack. “We have to go.”
“Where? Why?”
“You don’t want it to be just the three of us forever, do you?”
Rastaban leered. “If it were just the two of us --”
“We have a fourth to summon.” Shanka faced him squarely. “Now, it’s been long enough that people have forgotten Shanka’s army. You’ll have to pretend you’re in charge. Consider this your first demonstration of your tactical skills.”
“So you have to call me Master?”
“Hardly. Although you will call me Kana.”
“He’s gone.”
“As in dead?”
“As in doing necessary work.” Shanka hoisted her pack. “We have to go.”
“Where? Why?”
“You don’t want it to be just the three of us forever, do you?”
Rastaban leered. “If it were just the two of us --”
“We have a fourth to summon.” Shanka faced him squarely. “Now, it’s been long enough that people have forgotten Shanka’s army. You’ll have to pretend you’re in charge. Consider this your first demonstration of your tactical skills.”
“So you have to call me Master?”
“Hardly. Although you will call me Kana.”
Friday, September 25, 2009
Infiltrate and Retrieve
“I spoke to my colorless friend,” Old Master said.
Shanka stirred the pot of stew idly with a stick. “And?”
Old Master tossed a map at her. “You won’t have to go far.”
“This one’s next?”
“He didn’t say. Just pointed it out.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Infiltrate and retrieve, of course.”
Shanka nodded.
Old Master caught her gaze. “You know what you’ll have to do.”
“Yes.”
“The legends of Shanka’s Women have faded.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to enjoy this too much.”
“I won’t let it get to his head.”
“Good.” Old Master stood up. “I’ll be on my way.”
Shanka stirred the pot of stew idly with a stick. “And?”
Old Master tossed a map at her. “You won’t have to go far.”
“This one’s next?”
“He didn’t say. Just pointed it out.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Infiltrate and retrieve, of course.”
Shanka nodded.
Old Master caught her gaze. “You know what you’ll have to do.”
“Yes.”
“The legends of Shanka’s Women have faded.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to enjoy this too much.”
“I won’t let it get to his head.”
“Good.” Old Master stood up. “I’ll be on my way.”
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Completion
“If you pass this final test,” Old Master said, “you will have completed your training.”
Rastaban grinned at Shanka and settled into a fighting stance. “Completion, here I come.”
Shanka bowed. Old Master gave the signal, and before Rastaban knew what was what, she was on him, driving a fist into his ribs. He spun away before she could throw him, and then they fought, blow for blow. He chased her up a tree, across a river, down the side of a mountain and through a valley.
When he finally caught her in a kill hold, she’d caught him too.
Rastaban grinned at Shanka and settled into a fighting stance. “Completion, here I come.”
Shanka bowed. Old Master gave the signal, and before Rastaban knew what was what, she was on him, driving a fist into his ribs. He spun away before she could throw him, and then they fought, blow for blow. He chased her up a tree, across a river, down the side of a mountain and through a valley.
When he finally caught her in a kill hold, she’d caught him too.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Acting Lessons
He slid closer to her, leaned down so his breath tickled her ear as he spoke. “Maybe I just wanted some time with you alone.”
A knife blade slid cleanly between his ribs. His breath hitched, but he couldn’t breathe. He was choking. He could feel --
Shanka let go of the knife and stepped back, let him fall. He lay there in the darkness and stared up at her. Her expression didn’t waver. “Let’s see how well you act. I’ll fetch the package and meet you back at Old Master’s.”
Rastaban felt his vision go gray, but she was gone.
A knife blade slid cleanly between his ribs. His breath hitched, but he couldn’t breathe. He was choking. He could feel --
Shanka let go of the knife and stepped back, let him fall. He lay there in the darkness and stared up at her. Her expression didn’t waver. “Let’s see how well you act. I’ll fetch the package and meet you back at Old Master’s.”
Rastaban felt his vision go gray, but she was gone.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Become the Same
“Old Master said you wanted to come with me.” Shanka tugged the folds of her cloak closer. They stood at the edge of the crowd around the bonfire.
“I’ve been training like this for over a year. I’m as capable as you are.” Rastaban lifted his head defiantly.
“If you say so.” Shanka turned and studied the crowd.
In this entire year, Rastaban hadn’t seen a single instance of Kana in her, none of her sweetness or gentleness. It was as if Kana had never existed. Shanka was a soulless soldier and nothing more.
Rastaban refused to become the same.
“I’ve been training like this for over a year. I’m as capable as you are.” Rastaban lifted his head defiantly.
“If you say so.” Shanka turned and studied the crowd.
In this entire year, Rastaban hadn’t seen a single instance of Kana in her, none of her sweetness or gentleness. It was as if Kana had never existed. Shanka was a soulless soldier and nothing more.
Rastaban refused to become the same.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Trying to Survive
“Where’s Shanka?”
“Focus, young man,” Old Master said, gesturing at the smattering of black and white stones in the dirt.
Rastaban sighed and turned his attention back to the game. Every time he was sure he’d learned all the rules, Old Master would surprise him with something new. He placed a finger on a white stone, surveyed the ‘battlefield’, moved the stone, sighed when Old Master locked it into place with a smooth swoop of a black stone.
“What am I trying to do again?”
“Survive,” Old Master said. He was grinning.
Rastaban groaned. “Why can’t I go with Shanka?”
“Focus, young man,” Old Master said, gesturing at the smattering of black and white stones in the dirt.
Rastaban sighed and turned his attention back to the game. Every time he was sure he’d learned all the rules, Old Master would surprise him with something new. He placed a finger on a white stone, surveyed the ‘battlefield’, moved the stone, sighed when Old Master locked it into place with a smooth swoop of a black stone.
“What am I trying to do again?”
“Survive,” Old Master said. He was grinning.
Rastaban groaned. “Why can’t I go with Shanka?”
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Catch Up
“You want me to what?”
“Beat me to the top of the mountain,” Shanka said.
Rastaban craned his neck, peered up through the flurries of snow. The peak of the mountain was beyond his view, lancing high into the winter-white sky.
“What did you call this again?”
“The rooftop of the world,” Shanka said. “The locals call her Sagarmatha, goddess of the sky.” She wore only a simple shift and seemed unconcerned with the frigid air.
“So I have to climb this?”
Shanka started forward. “Faster than me.”
“You’ve been doing this longer.”
“You have time to catch up.”
“Beat me to the top of the mountain,” Shanka said.
Rastaban craned his neck, peered up through the flurries of snow. The peak of the mountain was beyond his view, lancing high into the winter-white sky.
“What did you call this again?”
“The rooftop of the world,” Shanka said. “The locals call her Sagarmatha, goddess of the sky.” She wore only a simple shift and seemed unconcerned with the frigid air.
“So I have to climb this?”
Shanka started forward. “Faster than me.”
“You’ve been doing this longer.”
“You have time to catch up.”
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Makes Perfect
Rastaban stood in the mouth of the cave, shivering, dripping wet.
“I can’t do it - you’re faster than me!”
Shanka crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I practiced.” She pointed. “Make a fire and dry yourself off.” She stepped around him and shrugged off the makeshift raincoat of leaves she’d fashioned earlier. “You’d better be at my side before the moon reaches the Sky Hunter’s Belt.” And she sped into the rain.
Rastaban, dripping wet again, found Shanka standing beneath and outcropping of rock, completely dry despite the torrents from the sky.
“How can you run between raindrops?”
“Practice.”
“I can’t do it - you’re faster than me!”
Shanka crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I practiced.” She pointed. “Make a fire and dry yourself off.” She stepped around him and shrugged off the makeshift raincoat of leaves she’d fashioned earlier. “You’d better be at my side before the moon reaches the Sky Hunter’s Belt.” And she sped into the rain.
Rastaban, dripping wet again, found Shanka standing beneath and outcropping of rock, completely dry despite the torrents from the sky.
“How can you run between raindrops?”
“Practice.”
Friday, September 18, 2009
As I Taught Her
Rastaban eyed Old Master and Shanka speculatively.
“So...basically, I can’t die, and you want me to come with you and do...what?”
“I shall teach you as I taught her.” Old Master nodded at Shanka. “You will learn warfare and subterfuge, politics and languages, things you’ve never learned before.”
“I already understand warfare,” Rastaban said.
Shanka’s smile was dangerously serene. “Your sense of war changes when you take into account the fact that you cannot die.”
“Why would you teach me these things and trust that I won’t kill you once you finish?” Rastaban crossed his arms and smirked.
“So...basically, I can’t die, and you want me to come with you and do...what?”
“I shall teach you as I taught her.” Old Master nodded at Shanka. “You will learn warfare and subterfuge, politics and languages, things you’ve never learned before.”
“I already understand warfare,” Rastaban said.
Shanka’s smile was dangerously serene. “Your sense of war changes when you take into account the fact that you cannot die.”
“Why would you teach me these things and trust that I won’t kill you once you finish?” Rastaban crossed his arms and smirked.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Lack of Permanence
Old Master sighed. “Be gentle with him, Dakshana. He’s not as strong as you are yet.”
Shanka released Rastaban and stepped back.
Old Master smiled gently at him. “I know this is a lot to process, lad, but we have work to do, and you have much to learn. Understand that you can die, and you will die many times, but your death will not be permanent. You will just sleep as long as it takes to heal, and then wake up. You will not grow old, and you will never grow ill. However, everyone you know will pass on.”
Shanka released Rastaban and stepped back.
Old Master smiled gently at him. “I know this is a lot to process, lad, but we have work to do, and you have much to learn. Understand that you can die, and you will die many times, but your death will not be permanent. You will just sleep as long as it takes to heal, and then wake up. You will not grow old, and you will never grow ill. However, everyone you know will pass on.”
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
At Least, Not Permanently
“You were a general,” Shanka said. “Between the three of us, you’re the least experienced. Now you’re just a grunt until you earn your place.”
Rastaban lunged at her. “How dare you speak such to me, you insolent woman --”
Her hand closed over his throat, and she squeezed. Fire raced through his limbs, and he struggled to breathe.
“You’d think, after the war you just fought, you’d know better than to insult me on the basis of womanhood,” Shanka said, her tone disturbingly casual. She rolled her eyes. “Stop squirming - lack of air won’t kill you. At least, not permanently.”
Rastaban lunged at her. “How dare you speak such to me, you insolent woman --”
Her hand closed over his throat, and she squeezed. Fire raced through his limbs, and he struggled to breathe.
“You’d think, after the war you just fought, you’d know better than to insult me on the basis of womanhood,” Shanka said, her tone disturbingly casual. She rolled her eyes. “Stop squirming - lack of air won’t kill you. At least, not permanently.”
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A While Yet
Rastaban stared at her. “How old are you?”
“Older than I look.” Shanka seemed uncaring of his shock. “Which way?”
Old Master patted down his pack, drew out a folded piece of hide. “I have a map.”
“What did your colourless friend say?” Shanka leaned over to check the map.
“It’ll be a while yet before the next one comes along,” Old Master said. “We have time to get this one all trained up and ready to help with the cause.”
Rastaban threw his hands up. “Wait just a moment - train me? What cause? I’m a soldier and a general.”
“Older than I look.” Shanka seemed uncaring of his shock. “Which way?”
Old Master patted down his pack, drew out a folded piece of hide. “I have a map.”
“What did your colourless friend say?” Shanka leaned over to check the map.
“It’ll be a while yet before the next one comes along,” Old Master said. “We have time to get this one all trained up and ready to help with the cause.”
Rastaban threw his hands up. “Wait just a moment - train me? What cause? I’m a soldier and a general.”
Monday, September 14, 2009
Madness and Reality
“I have to get back to my men, make sure they’re all right.” Rastaban pushed himself to his feet cautiously, and was surprised to realize that he felt perfectly fine.
Shanka shook her head. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly a week. They’ve all headed back to their own villages; the war is over.”
“Khouri and Rhajj --”
“Think you’re dead,” Shanka said. “I let them check your corpse.”
Rastaban’s stomach roiled at the word corpse. “This is madness.”
“This is reality.” Shanka shouldered her pack, handed another to Old Master. “And I wasn’t joking when I said I knew your mother.”
Shanka shook her head. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly a week. They’ve all headed back to their own villages; the war is over.”
“Khouri and Rhajj --”
“Think you’re dead,” Shanka said. “I let them check your corpse.”
Rastaban’s stomach roiled at the word corpse. “This is madness.”
“This is reality.” Shanka shouldered her pack, handed another to Old Master. “And I wasn’t joking when I said I knew your mother.”
Sunday, September 13, 2009
A Favour
Shanka shrugged, sheath her sword. “Then we’re the same kind of monster, we three.”
Rastaban shook his head, and then he remembered the wound at his throat. He reached up and touched the stickiness of dried blood again, and he knew what had happened.
“No.” He shook his head. “Impossible. I’d have noticed if I were one of the unkillable!”
“It doesn’t quite work like that,” Old Master said. “You have to completely die once to realize your full potential. The lass did you a favour.”
Shanka was ignoring the conversation and packing provisions into a sack of animal hide.
Rastaban shook his head, and then he remembered the wound at his throat. He reached up and touched the stickiness of dried blood again, and he knew what had happened.
“No.” He shook his head. “Impossible. I’d have noticed if I were one of the unkillable!”
“It doesn’t quite work like that,” Old Master said. “You have to completely die once to realize your full potential. The lass did you a favour.”
Shanka was ignoring the conversation and packing provisions into a sack of animal hide.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Monster
Horror ricocheted down Rastaban’s spine when he saw Shanka standing in the corner, holding her sword.
“I am Shanka and he is Old Master,” she said.
Rastaban closed his eyes. “I’m dead, and this is hell.”
“Open your eyes and watch. I’m only going to do this once,” Shanka said.
“It’s important, lad,” the old man said.
Rastaban opened one eye. Shanka drove a her blade into her own hand. She flinched only slightly, then held out her hand. As Rastaban watched, the wound closed.
Rastaban sat bolt upright. “I knew I’d shot you!” Then he recoiled. “You’re a monster.”
“I am Shanka and he is Old Master,” she said.
Rastaban closed his eyes. “I’m dead, and this is hell.”
“Open your eyes and watch. I’m only going to do this once,” Shanka said.
“It’s important, lad,” the old man said.
Rastaban opened one eye. Shanka drove a her blade into her own hand. She flinched only slightly, then held out her hand. As Rastaban watched, the wound closed.
Rastaban sat bolt upright. “I knew I’d shot you!” Then he recoiled. “You’re a monster.”
Friday, September 11, 2009
Not Anymore
Rastaban blinked slowly, trying to clear the haze from his vision. An old man with white hair and a white beard - Vishnu? Shiva? Rama?
“I thought I was dead,” he said.
The old man smiled. “You were. But you’re not anymore. In fact, it’s probably going to be a while before you’re dead again.” He offered a hand. “In the meantime, we should probably get you some clean clothes.”
Rastaban lifted a hand to his throat. It was sticky with drying blood, but - there was no wound. Then he realized precisely what the old man had said. “Who is ‘we’?”
“I thought I was dead,” he said.
The old man smiled. “You were. But you’re not anymore. In fact, it’s probably going to be a while before you’re dead again.” He offered a hand. “In the meantime, we should probably get you some clean clothes.”
Rastaban lifted a hand to his throat. It was sticky with drying blood, but - there was no wound. Then he realized precisely what the old man had said. “Who is ‘we’?”
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Join Us
Rastaban was sure that he was dead. Whenever he even thought about trying to move, echoes of the firebrand at his throat from where Shanka had cut him shot through his body like hot sparks. But he was definitely dead. If he managed to open his eyes, he’d be greeted with the afterlife. He’d see Rami and his mother and the soldiers he’d fought with over the years. There would be food and drink, music and dancing.
Or there’d be an old man leaning on the shaft of a spear, peering at him.
“So good of you to join us.”
Or there’d be an old man leaning on the shaft of a spear, peering at him.
“So good of you to join us.”
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Worth It
“What did you do with the troops?” Old Master asked.
“I turned command over to Malia. She’s leading them home. Feigned a little shame and tears so she left me alone.” Shanka stared down at Rastaban’s body. He hadn’t moved since she’d slit his throat, and she’d checked his pulse, but he was still firmly dead.
Old Master arched and eyebrow. “You don’t have to feign shame, you know. In fact, you ought to feel some shame. You led those women into a trap.”
Shanka slewed him a glance. “I know what I did. You’d better hope he’s worth it.”
“I turned command over to Malia. She’s leading them home. Feigned a little shame and tears so she left me alone.” Shanka stared down at Rastaban’s body. He hadn’t moved since she’d slit his throat, and she’d checked his pulse, but he was still firmly dead.
Old Master arched and eyebrow. “You don’t have to feign shame, you know. In fact, you ought to feel some shame. You led those women into a trap.”
Shanka slewed him a glance. “I know what I did. You’d better hope he’s worth it.”
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Interlude 4
He stood on a slender outcropping on the face of a sheer drop, overlooking the valley. The sheer number of dead made something twist in his gut. That so many of them were women made it all the worse. But watching her in all her battle glory made the fractured pieces in his soul want to sing, a discordant ballad of longing and love.
Pain lanced through his shoulder, and he looked down, checked the wounds there. Another had healed; five more to go. His colorless eyes flashed brown momentarily, and then he stepped off the edge and into nothing.
Pain lanced through his shoulder, and he looked down, checked the wounds there. Another had healed; five more to go. His colorless eyes flashed brown momentarily, and then he stepped off the edge and into nothing.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Warm, Sticky, Sweet
Shanka gazed down at the valley, at the scattered bodies of men and women alike. She’d never wanted it to come to this. She’d spent years building and training an army, creating a new life. And now it had to end.
She’d much rather have killed Rastaban in his sleep.
“You’re so stubborn,” she said.
Battle exploded across the valley. Dying screams and clashing metal rang toward the sky.
Rastaban writhed, and Shanka saw him straining, reaching for his sword.
Not strong enough, Shanka thought, and drew the blade across his throat. Warm life spilled across her hands, sticky, sweet.
She’d much rather have killed Rastaban in his sleep.
“You’re so stubborn,” she said.
Battle exploded across the valley. Dying screams and clashing metal rang toward the sky.
Rastaban writhed, and Shanka saw him straining, reaching for his sword.
Not strong enough, Shanka thought, and drew the blade across his throat. Warm life spilled across her hands, sticky, sweet.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Fight On
“I’d applaud your general for all he’s taught you,” Shanka said, and her voice rang across the valley. “Unfortunately, the one thing he never learned was how to take care of himself, and a soldier who cannot keep himself alive has no business telling others how to do the same.”
Rastaban thrashed, humiliated and furious, but Shanka’s grip was immovable.
“Lay down your weapons, or your leader dies.”
Rastaban closed his eyes. This was his demise, then. At the hands of a woman. And then fire burned in his veins once more. He yelled. “Fight on! Fight for your honor!”
Rastaban thrashed, humiliated and furious, but Shanka’s grip was immovable.
“Lay down your weapons, or your leader dies.”
Rastaban closed his eyes. This was his demise, then. At the hands of a woman. And then fire burned in his veins once more. He yelled. “Fight on! Fight for your honor!”
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Good Of You To Listen
Shanka threw her head back and shrieked.
Rastaban shuddered, disoriented. Shanka was strong and fast and - he squirmed, tried to crane his head. Her grip was immovable. He squirmed some more, and then he saw - the wound on her arm where he’d struck her was gone.
What was she?
Shanka shook him like he was a disobedient cub and let loose with another shriek, a volley of words he couldn’t understand.
Fire exploded across the valley floor. Burning arrows. Rastaban heard them zip through the sky.
Then slowly, inexplicably, the cacophony of battle ceased.
“So good of you to listen.”
Rastaban shuddered, disoriented. Shanka was strong and fast and - he squirmed, tried to crane his head. Her grip was immovable. He squirmed some more, and then he saw - the wound on her arm where he’d struck her was gone.
What was she?
Shanka shook him like he was a disobedient cub and let loose with another shriek, a volley of words he couldn’t understand.
Fire exploded across the valley floor. Burning arrows. Rastaban heard them zip through the sky.
Then slowly, inexplicably, the cacophony of battle ceased.
“So good of you to listen.”
Friday, September 4, 2009
Too Fast
“I do have lovely hands,” Shanka said. She struck.
Rastaban stepped back, fists up to guard, but she was fast. Too fast. Inhumanly fast. She closed the distance between them in the moment between two breaths, and then she planted a fist in his gut.
Rastaban staggered back, winded and struck with the sudden urge to retch. Shanka caught him by the shoulders, and then she swept his leg out from under him. Rastaban’s world went head over heels and he was on his knees on the ground, Shanka’s arm locked across his throat and a blade tickling his pulse.
Rastaban stepped back, fists up to guard, but she was fast. Too fast. Inhumanly fast. She closed the distance between them in the moment between two breaths, and then she planted a fist in his gut.
Rastaban staggered back, winded and struck with the sudden urge to retch. Shanka caught him by the shoulders, and then she swept his leg out from under him. Rastaban’s world went head over heels and he was on his knees on the ground, Shanka’s arm locked across his throat and a blade tickling his pulse.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Like A Real Soldier
“Might makes right,” he said, and struck.
Shanka was fast. She dodged, but his blow landed true, caught her across the upper arm in the gap between her armor and bracers. She shrieked in fury and stepped back.
“You cut me!”
“I could do worse,” Rastaban said.
Shanka’s eyes flashed. “You can try.”
He smirked. “I will.”
Shanka set down her sword and her knife and stepped back, curled her hands into fists. “Then fight me like a real soldier.”
Rastaban paused. Then he set his sword down. “I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you, my lovely warrior.”
Shanka was fast. She dodged, but his blow landed true, caught her across the upper arm in the gap between her armor and bracers. She shrieked in fury and stepped back.
“You cut me!”
“I could do worse,” Rastaban said.
Shanka’s eyes flashed. “You can try.”
He smirked. “I will.”
Shanka set down her sword and her knife and stepped back, curled her hands into fists. “Then fight me like a real soldier.”
Rastaban paused. Then he set his sword down. “I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you, my lovely warrior.”
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Just As Fast
“Your women are dying,” Rastaban said.
Shanka spun, slashed at his ribs.
He dodged, struck back, but she sidestepped neatly.
“So are your men.”
“By the time this night is done, your army will be gone.” Rastaban lunged and caught her across the ribs, but her armor took most of the blow. “Shouldn’t you be leading them?”
Shanka switched her sword to one hand, drew her knife with the other. “Only because your men fight on vengeance and lies. My women fight for their nation.”
Rastaban was surprised she was that strong, but he was just as fast as her.
Shanka spun, slashed at his ribs.
He dodged, struck back, but she sidestepped neatly.
“So are your men.”
“By the time this night is done, your army will be gone.” Rastaban lunged and caught her across the ribs, but her armor took most of the blow. “Shouldn’t you be leading them?”
Shanka switched her sword to one hand, drew her knife with the other. “Only because your men fight on vengeance and lies. My women fight for their nation.”
Rastaban was surprised she was that strong, but he was just as fast as her.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Never Looked More Beautiful
“What are you waiting for?” Rastaban asked.
Rhajj drew his sword and led the second wave down the hill.
Khouri signalled the archers for another volley. Rastaban drew his sword and waited. The last of Shanka’s phalanx fell beneath the second wave of men, but Rastaban was unsurprised when she emerged from the slaughter with a severed head in one hand and murder in her eyes.
Her hair was wet with blood and her armor was stained with gore, but she’d never looked more beautiful.
She flung the head aside and lunged at him.
He blocked her strike and laughed.
Rhajj drew his sword and led the second wave down the hill.
Khouri signalled the archers for another volley. Rastaban drew his sword and waited. The last of Shanka’s phalanx fell beneath the second wave of men, but Rastaban was unsurprised when she emerged from the slaughter with a severed head in one hand and murder in her eyes.
Her hair was wet with blood and her armor was stained with gore, but she’d never looked more beautiful.
She flung the head aside and lunged at him.
He blocked her strike and laughed.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Unfazed
“That doesn’t look good,” Khouri remarked. A single phalanx of Shanka’s women broke through Rastaban’s ranks and were forging their way slowly up the hill.
“It doesn’t look too bad either,” Rastaban said, and signaled for the archers to fire.
By the time the women made it up the hill, they’d lost over half their numbers to archers, but Shanka was leading the charge, blood-smeared sword flashing in the moonlight.
Rastaban squinted. Her shoulder was bleeding, and it looked as though she’d been struck by an arrow, but she seemed unfazed by the pain.
She headed right for him.
“It doesn’t look too bad either,” Rastaban said, and signaled for the archers to fire.
By the time the women made it up the hill, they’d lost over half their numbers to archers, but Shanka was leading the charge, blood-smeared sword flashing in the moonlight.
Rastaban squinted. Her shoulder was bleeding, and it looked as though she’d been struck by an arrow, but she seemed unfazed by the pain.
She headed right for him.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Bare Hands
Rastaban’s men were up in the hills lining the valley, she knew that already. That he’d had archers waiting in the trees as the first wave came forward was startling. His army hadn’t been that large before, and Shanka’s scouts had watched the village for days and days on end.
But they hadn’t watched nights.
The women reacted smoothly to the archers. Shanka was distantly pleased, but that didn’t matter. She needed some way to get a troop of women up the hill, attack the archers and whoever was left.
She was going to kill Rastaban with her bare hands.
But they hadn’t watched nights.
The women reacted smoothly to the archers. Shanka was distantly pleased, but that didn’t matter. She needed some way to get a troop of women up the hill, attack the archers and whoever was left.
She was going to kill Rastaban with her bare hands.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
To Win
Shanka cursed and ducked when the arrows flew, but she wasn’t fast enough. She knelt down behind a wall of shields and checked the wound. It wasn’t in deep, but it was in deep enough that it wouldn’t close as quickly as she liked, and she was liable to pass out from blood loss.
She had a battle to win. One great heave, and the flesh tore, burned, sent her nerves screeching warnings in her brain, but then she wrenched the arrowhead out, and she flung it aside. Blood streamed down her shoulder, and she had to switch sword hands.
She had a battle to win. One great heave, and the flesh tore, burned, sent her nerves screeching warnings in her brain, but then she wrenched the arrowhead out, and she flung it aside. Blood streamed down her shoulder, and she had to switch sword hands.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Dogs of War
Rastaban stood atop the hill and watched the front ranks go down in a serried frenzy of flame and blades, but he had others watching, waiting for that moment when Shanka thought she had regained control.
Her women were good, and soon they’d formed ranks shaped like triangles that thrust jaggedly into his ranks. They had their shields up and they positively bristled with spears, but that wasn’t enough.
Rastaban gave the signal, and the air sang with arrows.
Shanka’s front rank fell, but the second and third ranks snapped their shields into place.
His men dogpiled onto the formations.
Her women were good, and soon they’d formed ranks shaped like triangles that thrust jaggedly into his ranks. They had their shields up and they positively bristled with spears, but that wasn’t enough.
Rastaban gave the signal, and the air sang with arrows.
Shanka’s front rank fell, but the second and third ranks snapped their shields into place.
His men dogpiled onto the formations.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Crowd Search
Shanka’s women reacted instinctively, using their torches as weapons, a mark of their excellent training, but the men had a distinct advantage, and unless one entire flank of them stumbled, the women would be surrounded. Shanka thrust her torch at a man, winced at the stench of burning flesh, and drew her sword. Malia and the other lieutenants shrieked for the women to fall into formation, but the men were circling tighter and tighter, and Shanka could see her ranks start to crumble. She thrust her other torch at another man and drew her sword.
Then she searched the crowd.
Then she searched the crowd.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Raining Men
It was a trick as old as time - or so Old Master liked to say - to give each of her fighters two torches and have them hold both aloft, burning bright into the night and turning a small army into a tidal wave of destruction. Shanka didn’t care if the lights gave away their coming, because the fear would wreck any semblance of military organization Rastaban’s farmers could hope to achieve.
They advanced into the valley, relentless and unstoppable. The first village surrendered without question, and Shanka ordered her women on.
And then armed men rained down into the valley.
They advanced into the valley, relentless and unstoppable. The first village surrendered without question, and Shanka ordered her women on.
And then armed men rained down into the valley.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
The Meaning of Waiting
Rastaban knelt in the trees, surrounded by a hundred of his best and brightest soldiers. He knew he had to trust that Khouri and Rhajj were competent commanders, that they’d trained the men well, but when he first saw those torches go up at the mouth of the valley, he felt his heart crawl into his throat. Shanka hadn’t had that many women when they’d last fought; his men had cut down a good number of them before Shanka had called her women to retreat.
Maybe she’d had these women laying in wait. Rastaban would show her what waiting meant.
Maybe she’d had these women laying in wait. Rastaban would show her what waiting meant.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Fires of Hell
Something about Old Master’s guileless smile and light tone was unnerving, but he had not given her cause to genuinely distrust him yet despite his general penchant for trickery.
“General.” Malia snapped off a sharp salute. “The entire valley is asleep. The scouts have returned from the villages.”
Shanka tugged on her breastplate. “Then we march. The first village will be for prisoners - keep only the strong and useful men. Destroy the rest.”
Malia saluted again. Two scouts knelt beside her, working feverishly to light a blaze. The army was marching, and they were coming with the fires of hell.
“General.” Malia snapped off a sharp salute. “The entire valley is asleep. The scouts have returned from the villages.”
Shanka tugged on her breastplate. “Then we march. The first village will be for prisoners - keep only the strong and useful men. Destroy the rest.”
Malia saluted again. Two scouts knelt beside her, working feverishly to light a blaze. The army was marching, and they were coming with the fires of hell.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
All The Work
“Are you ready?” Old Master asked. He leaned against the wall of the cave, cleaning his fingernails with the obsidian blade of a dagger.
“My women are fine warriors. We spent a long time raising a generation of the best fighters in the world,” Shanka said. She stood at the mouth of the valley and gazed down at the place Rastaban had called home for most of his life. Her scouts were out now, confirming that the men were asleep in their villages like the boring farmers they had become.
“You did all the work, not me,” Old Master said.
“My women are fine warriors. We spent a long time raising a generation of the best fighters in the world,” Shanka said. She stood at the mouth of the valley and gazed down at the place Rastaban had called home for most of his life. Her scouts were out now, confirming that the men were asleep in their villages like the boring farmers they had become.
“You did all the work, not me,” Old Master said.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The Invisibility Game
Khouri and Rhajj grinned fiercely. Both saluted and hurried to obey their orders. Rastaban turned to the boy he’d been teaching.
“Go gather the women and the elderly and tell them to remain calm, to continue working as usual. The men are going to war.” Rastaban turned and headed for his tent. He scooped up his weapons and his armor. Then he rounded up the rest of his men from the village and headed up into the hills. If Shanka wanted to play the invisibility game, Rastaban was going to play.
And he was going to play it much better.
“Go gather the women and the elderly and tell them to remain calm, to continue working as usual. The men are going to war.” Rastaban turned and headed for his tent. He scooped up his weapons and his armor. Then he rounded up the rest of his men from the village and headed up into the hills. If Shanka wanted to play the invisibility game, Rastaban was going to play.
And he was going to play it much better.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Hardly Any Consolation
“It’s been three months.” Malia drove her knife into the dirt beside the map Shanka had drawn. “What are we waiting for?”
“Our agreement was that they stayed out of our lands, and they have,” Shanka began.
“They broke that agreement,” Malia said. “That they decided to abide by it after is hardly any consolation for the women they killed or the fact that they’ve been robbing and killing our people.”
Shanka glanced over her shoulder at Old Master, who was feigning sleep in the corner of the tent.
She rose to her feet. “Fine. Tomorrow we march to war.”
“Our agreement was that they stayed out of our lands, and they have,” Shanka began.
“They broke that agreement,” Malia said. “That they decided to abide by it after is hardly any consolation for the women they killed or the fact that they’ve been robbing and killing our people.”
Shanka glanced over her shoulder at Old Master, who was feigning sleep in the corner of the tent.
She rose to her feet. “Fine. Tomorrow we march to war.”
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Preparing
“Do you really think you ought to be antagonizing her like that?” Khouri asked, watching as Shanka rode away.
“If she’s angry enough, she’ll be rash in the midst of battle,” Rastaban said. “How are the men?”
“It’s daylight,” Khouri said. “Hunting amiably. What else?”
“Good. How are the weapons coming along?” Rastaban turned and headed back toward the village.
Khouri fell into step beside him. “Each man will have a spear, a sword, and a good knife.”
“I want archers as well.” Rastaban paused and studied the bustling action in the village below. “We have to win this war.”
“If she’s angry enough, she’ll be rash in the midst of battle,” Rastaban said. “How are the men?”
“It’s daylight,” Khouri said. “Hunting amiably. What else?”
“Good. How are the weapons coming along?” Rastaban turned and headed back toward the village.
Khouri fell into step beside him. “Each man will have a spear, a sword, and a good knife.”
“I want archers as well.” Rastaban paused and studied the bustling action in the village below. “We have to win this war.”
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
As I Look
“You knew my mother?” Rastaban asked.
“She was an excellent warrior,” Shanka said shortly. “Apparently you inherited more than her handsome face.” She turned and reached for her horse’s tether. “I’ll be watching you.”
Rastaban stayed her hand. “All I remember was that my mother died.”
“Fighting honorably to defend her land, as opposed to ceaselessly harassing other nations for stores she was too lazy to work for,” Shanka said. “She’d have been sad to see you a warrior, and even sadder to see you reduced to this.”
“How did you know her?”
“I’m not as young as I look.”
“She was an excellent warrior,” Shanka said shortly. “Apparently you inherited more than her handsome face.” She turned and reached for her horse’s tether. “I’ll be watching you.”
Rastaban stayed her hand. “All I remember was that my mother died.”
“Fighting honorably to defend her land, as opposed to ceaselessly harassing other nations for stores she was too lazy to work for,” Shanka said. “She’d have been sad to see you a warrior, and even sadder to see you reduced to this.”
“How did you know her?”
“I’m not as young as I look.”
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Do Me Good
The kiss was two seconds of bliss before Shanka planted the hilt of her dagger in his sternum and shoved. Hard.
Rastaban staggered back, one hand pressed to his chest, eyes wide. She was strong. And she looked angry, more angry than Rastaban had ever seen someone look, which was impressive, given how often Shruti had glared at him when he was a child.
“I’d kill you now if it would do me any good, but it wouldn’t.” Shanka sheathed her dagger and sword, drew herself up proudly. “It would do me much good, however, to kill you very slowly.”
Rastaban staggered back, one hand pressed to his chest, eyes wide. She was strong. And she looked angry, more angry than Rastaban had ever seen someone look, which was impressive, given how often Shruti had glared at him when he was a child.
“I’d kill you now if it would do me any good, but it wouldn’t.” Shanka sheathed her dagger and sword, drew herself up proudly. “It would do me much good, however, to kill you very slowly.”
Monday, August 17, 2009
Nice to Think About
“Again, I say, I have a hideous soul,” Shanka said. “I was never the lovely Kana you knew.”
“That’s too bad,” Rastaban said, “because I really did enjoy Kana.” He stepped closer, uncaring of the blade of her dagger. “She had such a lovely mouth.”
That lovely mouth pressed into a thin, angry line. “Even now, after so many of your men have been killed by my women, that’s all you can think about?”
Rastaban said, “That’s not all I can think about. But it certainly is nice to think about.” He leaned down and covered her mouth with his.
“That’s too bad,” Rastaban said, “because I really did enjoy Kana.” He stepped closer, uncaring of the blade of her dagger. “She had such a lovely mouth.”
That lovely mouth pressed into a thin, angry line. “Even now, after so many of your men have been killed by my women, that’s all you can think about?”
Rastaban said, “That’s not all I can think about. But it certainly is nice to think about.” He leaned down and covered her mouth with his.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
A Child Then
Shanka leveled her dagger at him. “Then you’re a fool.”
“A fool who was in love with a beautiful woman.” He stepped closer.
“A beautiful face is a matter of opinion,” Shanka said, “but a hideous soul is, I think, fairly obvious.”
Rastaban arched an eyebrow. “What happened to the lovely Kana who fed chickens and did laundry and smiled in the sun?”
“What happened to Reshma’s son, who chased dogs in the village and cried whenever his mother went to war?”
“You keep speaking of my mother as if you knew her, but you were a child yourself then.”
“A fool who was in love with a beautiful woman.” He stepped closer.
“A beautiful face is a matter of opinion,” Shanka said, “but a hideous soul is, I think, fairly obvious.”
Rastaban arched an eyebrow. “What happened to the lovely Kana who fed chickens and did laundry and smiled in the sun?”
“What happened to Reshma’s son, who chased dogs in the village and cried whenever his mother went to war?”
“You keep speaking of my mother as if you knew her, but you were a child yourself then.”
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Only Me
“Your villages must be growing hungry,” Rastaban said, “given how long you’ve lingered in these hills and watched us hunt and fish all day.”
Shanka was on her feet in an instant, sword and dagger drawn. Rastaban stepped back, raised his hands to show he was unarmed.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning,” she said.
“What am I planning? I didn’t realize I was planning anything.” Rastaban’s smile was guileless, almost sweet.
Shanka glared. “I can be more patient than time itself. When your army comes, we’ll be ready.”
Rastaban arched an eyebrow. “And if it’s only me?”
Shanka was on her feet in an instant, sword and dagger drawn. Rastaban stepped back, raised his hands to show he was unarmed.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning,” she said.
“What am I planning? I didn’t realize I was planning anything.” Rastaban’s smile was guileless, almost sweet.
Shanka glared. “I can be more patient than time itself. When your army comes, we’ll be ready.”
Rastaban arched an eyebrow. “And if it’s only me?”
Friday, August 14, 2009
The Plague
In the moonlight, swords flashed like a sea of stars. The men moved in smooth unison through the sword drills: a butterfly sweep, a block, a crescent. Rastaban stood on the hill above the river, Khouri and Rhajj by his side, and watched his army with glowing pride.
“Shanka’s harpies will never know what hit them,” he said.
Rhajj coughed. “We had to, er, compromise on some of the details to convince some of them to join us, but they are more than willing to help us drive back the plague of upstart women.”
“They are a plague all right.”
“Shanka’s harpies will never know what hit them,” he said.
Rhajj coughed. “We had to, er, compromise on some of the details to convince some of them to join us, but they are more than willing to help us drive back the plague of upstart women.”
“They are a plague all right.”
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Up To Something
“Who says they’re hiding?” Malia asked. She nodded in the direction of the hunter who’d come to stand beside Rastaban, chiding him for bothering the women. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s his lieutenant. He hasn’t done anything but hunt for days.”
“Rastaban’s definitely up to something. Send the scouts further into the valley. Rendezvous in seven days.” Shanka slithered back through the grass and to her horse. She rode back toward camp, mulling over what she’d seen. If Old Master was right, then Rastaban was secretly plotting something. If Old Master was wrong, Shanka was in for a long haul.
“Rastaban’s definitely up to something. Send the scouts further into the valley. Rendezvous in seven days.” Shanka slithered back through the grass and to her horse. She rode back toward camp, mulling over what she’d seen. If Old Master was right, then Rastaban was secretly plotting something. If Old Master was wrong, Shanka was in for a long haul.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Frustration
“You look frustrated,” Malia remarked blithely. She and Shanka lay on their bellies in the tall grass, watching Rastaban annoy the women of his village mid-chore as he tried to charm them.
“He’s just doing nothing,” Shanka replied. She remained utterly still, studying the scene with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t the Rastaban we know, the fierce general whose pride is as fiery as his lust. He wouldn’t lay down and play dead.”
“From what we’ve seen, he seems more than willing to just lay down,” Malia said.
Shanka gritted her teeth. “Where are the rest of his men hiding?”
“He’s just doing nothing,” Shanka replied. She remained utterly still, studying the scene with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t the Rastaban we know, the fierce general whose pride is as fiery as his lust. He wouldn’t lay down and play dead.”
“From what we’ve seen, he seems more than willing to just lay down,” Malia said.
Shanka gritted her teeth. “Where are the rest of his men hiding?”
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Her Turn
“Status?” Rastaban asked.
Rhajj yelped and went to draw his sword.
Khouri had heard his commander’s horse arrive and turned, calm. “We’ve recruited at least ten thousand men from villages throughout the valley. They’re willing to take up arms and join us in battle.” He grinned. “A few of them are looking forward to taking such fierce women captive.”
Rastaban shook his head. “Don’t count on taking them captive - they won’t take prisoners, and neither shall we.”
“Should we rally the men?” Rhajj asked.
“Tell them to stay where they are. We’ll come to them. It’s her turn to wait.”
Rhajj yelped and went to draw his sword.
Khouri had heard his commander’s horse arrive and turned, calm. “We’ve recruited at least ten thousand men from villages throughout the valley. They’re willing to take up arms and join us in battle.” He grinned. “A few of them are looking forward to taking such fierce women captive.”
Rastaban shook his head. “Don’t count on taking them captive - they won’t take prisoners, and neither shall we.”
“Should we rally the men?” Rhajj asked.
“Tell them to stay where they are. We’ll come to them. It’s her turn to wait.”
Monday, August 10, 2009
One Way to Look At It
“Any news on your quarry?” Old Master sharpened his cimeter absently.
“Rastaban’s army has vanished,” Shanka said.
“Really? How?”
“Based on what the scouts have told me, they lost too many men and disbanded.” Shanka knelt to sharpen her own sword.
“Sounds like you disbelieve your own scouts.” Old Master’s tone was smug.
“I’m patient,” Shanka said. “And if he really has disbanded, then we can take the Indus River Valley as we’ve always wanted.” A smile played across her lips. “I’m sure the daughters of Maya and Kali will make wondrous warriors.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“Rastaban’s army has vanished,” Shanka said.
“Really? How?”
“Based on what the scouts have told me, they lost too many men and disbanded.” Shanka knelt to sharpen her own sword.
“Sounds like you disbelieve your own scouts.” Old Master’s tone was smug.
“I’m patient,” Shanka said. “And if he really has disbanded, then we can take the Indus River Valley as we’ve always wanted.” A smile played across her lips. “I’m sure the daughters of Maya and Kali will make wondrous warriors.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
What To Do
It was ingenious, the way the women did it, blended right back into village life while they made ready their weapons of war. Unless Rastaban knew each soldier by face, he’d never be able to tell precisely how big her army was. Blending right back in was a matter of solidarity, as well. The soldiers would always have a place to hide.
Invaders would never expect it when they stormed a village and it was already bristling with soldiers.
Rastaban hovered on the edges of the village, watching and waiting. And then he knew, clear as day, what to do.
Invaders would never expect it when they stormed a village and it was already bristling with soldiers.
Rastaban hovered on the edges of the village, watching and waiting. And then he knew, clear as day, what to do.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Do It Better
Rastaban sent Khouri and Rhajj ahead to spread the news, set ablaze the fires of war in the hearts of the men back home. He stayed behind for a few days, meditating in the silence of a battlefield of defeat. Then he mounted his horse and set off.
If there was anything he’d learned from General Rami, it was to learn, and he’d seen what Shanka’s army was capable of. Whatever the women do, the men could do it better.
And by the gods, when he got his hands on Shanka, he’d show her how he could do it better.
If there was anything he’d learned from General Rami, it was to learn, and he’d seen what Shanka’s army was capable of. Whatever the women do, the men could do it better.
And by the gods, when he got his hands on Shanka, he’d show her how he could do it better.
Friday, August 7, 2009
What Now
“Do you think we did well?” Malia asked.
They stood on the edges of the plain, watching Rastaban’s men bury their comrades.
“I think we woke a sleeping dragon,” Shanka said.
“What now?” Malia asked.
Shanka glanced over her shoulder at Old Master, dressed as a foot soldier and lurking silently. “Now we wait and let him gather more troops, and then we finish them for good.”
“We just wait?” Malia arched an eyebrow.
“No. Back to the villages - we need iron for swords and spears.”
Malia brandished her sword and held it high, and the women prepared to march.
They stood on the edges of the plain, watching Rastaban’s men bury their comrades.
“I think we woke a sleeping dragon,” Shanka said.
“What now?” Malia asked.
Shanka glanced over her shoulder at Old Master, dressed as a foot soldier and lurking silently. “Now we wait and let him gather more troops, and then we finish them for good.”
“We just wait?” Malia arched an eyebrow.
“No. Back to the villages - we need iron for swords and spears.”
Malia brandished her sword and held it high, and the women prepared to march.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Many
“We’ve buried all of our dead, sir,” Rhajj said.
Rastaban stood overlooking the battlefield, blood-spattered grass and strewn with enemy bodies. Rastaban wanted to behead them and display them on pikes around his camp, but he couldn’t afford to delay.
“Gather the rest of the men. We’re marching back to the valley.”
Rhajj nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Khouri stepped up beside them. “So that’s it? Where will we find food?”
“We will take our spoils from those she-demons,” Rastaban said. “But first, we must rally more troops.”
“More, sir?”
Rastaban sheathed his sword. “As many as we can get.”
Rastaban stood overlooking the battlefield, blood-spattered grass and strewn with enemy bodies. Rastaban wanted to behead them and display them on pikes around his camp, but he couldn’t afford to delay.
“Gather the rest of the men. We’re marching back to the valley.”
Rhajj nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Khouri stepped up beside them. “So that’s it? Where will we find food?”
“We will take our spoils from those she-demons,” Rastaban said. “But first, we must rally more troops.”
“More, sir?”
Rastaban sheathed his sword. “As many as we can get.”
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
General Duties
Rastaban lunged to strike again, but Shanka vanished into the ranks of his men, cutting a swathe of destruction as she went. Rastaban wanted to scream at her, call her a coward, but she was a general, and it wasn’t her job to trade blows with him - it was her job to ensure her army killed, as efficiently and quickly as possible.
By the time her army was done, only a third of Rastaban’s men were still alive, and a good quarter of them were severely wounded. Khouri was sporting fresh bandages when he came to stand beside his general.
By the time her army was done, only a third of Rastaban’s men were still alive, and a good quarter of them were severely wounded. Khouri was sporting fresh bandages when he came to stand beside his general.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Same Kind
Rastaban lunged at her and swung. She side-stepped nimbly and brought her sword up for a swift thrust. He blocked, but her blow jarred his arm. She was stronger than she looked.
“You said one week,” Rastaban snarled.
Shanka’s smile was Kana-sweet. “I gave you more than a week - you should be grateful.”
“Grateful that my men are dying?” Rastaban swung.
Shanka blocked. “They had three extra days to dig themselves graves.”
Rastaban closed distance with a swift leap, locked hilts with Shanka. “You’re a monster.”
Her grin was battle-fierce. “I am, but you’re the same kind.”
“You said one week,” Rastaban snarled.
Shanka’s smile was Kana-sweet. “I gave you more than a week - you should be grateful.”
“Grateful that my men are dying?” Rastaban swung.
Shanka blocked. “They had three extra days to dig themselves graves.”
Rastaban closed distance with a swift leap, locked hilts with Shanka. “You’re a monster.”
Her grin was battle-fierce. “I am, but you’re the same kind.”
Inside
Rastaban swore and lunged for his sword. To the woman, he said, “Stay here!” And then he dashed out of his tent.
Shanka’s women had surrounded his camp. His guards were dead, and Rhajj and Khouri were yelling, trying to organize the men into some semblance of formation to defend the center.
Some of the women were carrying away the food and water, and Rastaban scooped up his shield, plunged into the thick of the fray to fight them off.
“Where the hell did they come from?” he yelled at Khouri.
“Inside,” a woman said.
Rastaban turned.
Shanka drew her sword.
Shanka’s women had surrounded his camp. His guards were dead, and Rhajj and Khouri were yelling, trying to organize the men into some semblance of formation to defend the center.
Some of the women were carrying away the food and water, and Rastaban scooped up his shield, plunged into the thick of the fray to fight them off.
“Where the hell did they come from?” he yelled at Khouri.
“Inside,” a woman said.
Rastaban turned.
Shanka drew her sword.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
You Should
Khouri showed the woman - staggering, cloaked - into the tent, and then at Rastaban’s look he steered Rhajj out.
“What message from the People back home?”
She sank to her knees at his feet, breathing light and shallow, clearly weak.
Rastaban leaned over her, concerned. “Do you need water? Food?”
She said nothing, and he saw her hands were trembling. Rastaban turned and reached for the tent flap to call for fruit and water, and a hand closed around his ankle.
“Wait.”
Rastaban froze. Something in her voice was...off. “What?”
She said, “You should get your sword.”
Screams erupted outside.
“What message from the People back home?”
She sank to her knees at his feet, breathing light and shallow, clearly weak.
Rastaban leaned over her, concerned. “Do you need water? Food?”
She said nothing, and he saw her hands were trembling. Rastaban turned and reached for the tent flap to call for fruit and water, and a hand closed around his ankle.
“Wait.”
Rastaban froze. Something in her voice was...off. “What?”
She said, “You should get your sword.”
Screams erupted outside.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Messenger From the People
“They said one week.” Khouri stood just inside Rastaban’s tent, watching the general pace circles. “It’s been ten days. The men are getting restless. Again.”
“I know,” Rastaban said. “Don’t tell me things I know. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Rhajj poked his head into the tent. “Sir, it’s a messenger from the People.”
Rastaban turned. “What?”
“The women. They sent a messenger. From the valley. She has been walking for days to speak to you.” Rhajj glanced over his shoulder, then asked, “Shall I send her in?”
Rastaban nodded. “Of course.” The women back home needed food - soon.
“I know,” Rastaban said. “Don’t tell me things I know. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Rhajj poked his head into the tent. “Sir, it’s a messenger from the People.”
Rastaban turned. “What?”
“The women. They sent a messenger. From the valley. She has been walking for days to speak to you.” Rhajj glanced over his shoulder, then asked, “Shall I send her in?”
Rastaban nodded. “Of course.” The women back home needed food - soon.
Friday, July 31, 2009
A Little Longer
Shanka arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’d call it magical.”
“Perhaps.” Malia tested the edge of an arrowhead against her thumb, unconcerned when it cut. “What’s the big battle strategy?”
“He’ll be expecting us to mobilize and form up in regular lines out on the steppes, just the way his father taught him. He’ll move fast so he can get what high ground he can, stake out a water supply, and establish a line of scouts.”
“Men are so predictable.”
“He’s a good general,” Shanka said. “Don’t underestimate him.”
“And?”
“And we make them wait. Just a little longer.”
“Perhaps.” Malia tested the edge of an arrowhead against her thumb, unconcerned when it cut. “What’s the big battle strategy?”
“He’ll be expecting us to mobilize and form up in regular lines out on the steppes, just the way his father taught him. He’ll move fast so he can get what high ground he can, stake out a water supply, and establish a line of scouts.”
“Men are so predictable.”
“He’s a good general,” Shanka said. “Don’t underestimate him.”
“And?”
“And we make them wait. Just a little longer.”
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Magically
Malia was laughing. “Did you see his face? I don’t think a woman has ever said no to him.”
Shanka sharpened her sword with broad, even strokes. “He thinks he knows war, but he’s just a child playing a game.”
Malia nudged a bowl of arrowheads closer and picked one up, began to sharpen them. “What was all that about his mother?”
“I doubt you remember her. She was one of the first, when the army was small and still hidden among the men,” Shanka said quietly.
Malia hissed in a breath. “I keep forgetting your face is magically youthful.”
Shanka sharpened her sword with broad, even strokes. “He thinks he knows war, but he’s just a child playing a game.”
Malia nudged a bowl of arrowheads closer and picked one up, began to sharpen them. “What was all that about his mother?”
“I doubt you remember her. She was one of the first, when the army was small and still hidden among the men,” Shanka said quietly.
Malia hissed in a breath. “I keep forgetting your face is magically youthful.”
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Son of War Itself
Rastaban’s blood went cold.
“What do you know about my mother?” he hissed.
Shanka stepped back; her golden eyes were half-lidded, hypnotizing. “More than you ever could.” Louder, she said, “One week.”
She and Malia vanished into the shadows.
“...General?” Khouri asked.
Rastaban’s hands curled into fists. “If it’s war she wants, it’s war she’ll get.” His head was spinning. He was Rami’s son, and he hadn’t lost a single battle yet. He would show this upstart woman and her band of harridans what war really meant.
And he had no mother - he was the son of war itself.
“What do you know about my mother?” he hissed.
Shanka stepped back; her golden eyes were half-lidded, hypnotizing. “More than you ever could.” Louder, she said, “One week.”
She and Malia vanished into the shadows.
“...General?” Khouri asked.
Rastaban’s hands curled into fists. “If it’s war she wants, it’s war she’ll get.” His head was spinning. He was Rami’s son, and he hadn’t lost a single battle yet. He would show this upstart woman and her band of harridans what war really meant.
And he had no mother - he was the son of war itself.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sporting Chances
“I do, however, believe in sporting chances,” Shanka continued. “I will give you one week to prepare your army to meet me on the Steppes, far away from both of our nations to spare both sides undue casualties.” She stepped forward, steps slow, hips swaying, and for one moment she was Kana again. She reached up and wound an arm around Rastaban’s neck, leaned in, and for one moment he was frozen, sure she was about to kiss him.
Kana had never kissed him.
“Sweet Rastaban,” she whispered. “Your mother was one of our finest warriors. What would she think?”
Kana had never kissed him.
“Sweet Rastaban,” she whispered. “Your mother was one of our finest warriors. What would she think?”
Monday, July 27, 2009
Let Yourself
“Surprise is such a delightful thing, isn’t it?”
Rastaban started.
Kana and Aliana stood at the entrance of the tent. Both wore their brightly-colored dancing skirts - and both carried swords.
Shanka and Malia. Impossible.
Khouri reached for his sword, but Rastaban shook his head.
“So, you knew all along.”
“Our accord was that you kept your army out of my nation,” Shanka said. “But you decided not to stand by your word. I, on the other hand, always stand by my word. And we will kill all of you.”
“You tricked me,” Rastaban said.
“You let yourself be tricked.”
Rastaban started.
Kana and Aliana stood at the entrance of the tent. Both wore their brightly-colored dancing skirts - and both carried swords.
Shanka and Malia. Impossible.
Khouri reached for his sword, but Rastaban shook his head.
“So, you knew all along.”
“Our accord was that you kept your army out of my nation,” Shanka said. “But you decided not to stand by your word. I, on the other hand, always stand by my word. And we will kill all of you.”
“You tricked me,” Rastaban said.
“You let yourself be tricked.”
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Element of Surprise
“Then we’ll muster our forces and draw them out,” Rastaban said. “Attend to your weapons. Khouri, with me.” He stepped away from the fire, headed into the darkness beyond the others’ earshot.
“So you’re going to do this?” Khouri asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You were in that village for almost a month before you summoned us,” Khouri said. “I saw you with her - you were never like that with any of the women back home --”
“We’re doing this for the good of the people back home, understood? We have to strike while we have the element of surprise.” Rastaban sighed.
“So you’re going to do this?” Khouri asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You were in that village for almost a month before you summoned us,” Khouri said. “I saw you with her - you were never like that with any of the women back home --”
“We’re doing this for the good of the people back home, understood? We have to strike while we have the element of surprise.” Rastaban sighed.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
A Little Troublesome
“What have you learned?” Rastaban stoked the fire with an absent poke of his staff.
“Glad to see you managed to drag yourself out of your enemy’s bed,” Khouri said dryly.
“I’m not in her bed,” Rastaban began, and several of his men looked surprised. He sighed and shook his head. “Look, that’s not the point - what have you found?”
“Given how most of our men were in something akin to abject terror when they saw the women, recognition has been a little troublesome,” Khouri said, “but we think at least some of the women are hiding in plain sight.”
“Glad to see you managed to drag yourself out of your enemy’s bed,” Khouri said dryly.
“I’m not in her bed,” Rastaban began, and several of his men looked surprised. He sighed and shook his head. “Look, that’s not the point - what have you found?”
“Given how most of our men were in something akin to abject terror when they saw the women, recognition has been a little troublesome,” Khouri said, “but we think at least some of the women are hiding in plain sight.”
Friday, July 24, 2009
Each Other's Family
“So...your parents died in the wars?” Rastaban was holding one of the smallest children to prevent him from squirming while Kana did her best to feed him.
“No, they died long before.” Kana shrugged. “Most of these children are orphaned as well, so Aliana and I take care of them.”
“I’m sorry.” Rastaban smiled down at the little boy, who scowled and attempted to spit lentils at him. Rastaban laughed and dodged, which only earned him more scowling. “So...who takes care of you?”
“Everyone in the village takes care of each other,” Kana said. “We’re each other’s family.”
“No, they died long before.” Kana shrugged. “Most of these children are orphaned as well, so Aliana and I take care of them.”
“I’m sorry.” Rastaban smiled down at the little boy, who scowled and attempted to spit lentils at him. Rastaban laughed and dodged, which only earned him more scowling. “So...who takes care of you?”
“Everyone in the village takes care of each other,” Kana said. “We’re each other’s family.”
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Maybes
If Khouri or Rhajj or any of the others had been present, Rastaban would have been horrified at what he was doing, but there was something oddly soothing about standing beside Kana, helping her feed the chickens. Maybe it was the rhythmic mindlessness of casting seeds in a circle about him.
Or maybe it was the way Kana smiled up at him.
“It’s so kind of you to help,” she said. “It’s not easy, with so many of our men...gone.”
“Gone?”
“Killed. In the wars.” Kana’s smile faltered. “But you don’t want to hear about that. Ever done laundry?”
Or maybe it was the way Kana smiled up at him.
“It’s so kind of you to help,” she said. “It’s not easy, with so many of our men...gone.”
“Gone?”
“Killed. In the wars.” Kana’s smile faltered. “But you don’t want to hear about that. Ever done laundry?”
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
A Lovely Story
“That was a lovely story,” Rastaban said.
Kana jumped and turned, one hand going to her throat. “Rastaban! You startled me. Is there something I can do for you?”
He shrugged insouciantly, flashed a smile at the children. Several waved at him.
“Actually,” he said, “I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you. My traveling companions have moved on, and I thought I’d stay here and make friends with the locals, make myself useful.”
Kana’s smile was as bright as the noonday sun and made Rastaban feel just as warm.
“We’d love to have you stay.”
Kana jumped and turned, one hand going to her throat. “Rastaban! You startled me. Is there something I can do for you?”
He shrugged insouciantly, flashed a smile at the children. Several waved at him.
“Actually,” he said, “I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you. My traveling companions have moved on, and I thought I’d stay here and make friends with the locals, make myself useful.”
Kana’s smile was as bright as the noonday sun and made Rastaban feel just as warm.
“We’d love to have you stay.”
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Happened Next
Rastaban waited until the earliest risers of the village stirred before he crossed the green and headed for Kana’s place. He pushed aside the cloth that hung in the doorway of her hut - and paused.
Kana stood over the fire, stirring a massive pot of stew, while the children sat on the ground in a circle, watching her avidly.
She was telling a story, her voice low and lulling. Rastaban could barely catch the details, but it was about a songmistress who fell in love with a shadow demon.
“What happened next?” a little girl asked.
“He died for her.”
Kana stood over the fire, stirring a massive pot of stew, while the children sat on the ground in a circle, watching her avidly.
She was telling a story, her voice low and lulling. Rastaban could barely catch the details, but it was about a songmistress who fell in love with a shadow demon.
“What happened next?” a little girl asked.
“He died for her.”
Monday, July 20, 2009
Too Many Pieces
Shanka stared into the dying embers of the fire.
“It’s not much of a plan at all, is it?” Malia asked.
“Rastaban’s a chauvinist pig. It won’t occur to him that I’m three steps ahead of him,” Shanka said. “Send runners out and tell the women to be ready.”
“Of course. The dancing was a nice touch, by the way.” And Malia faded into the shadows.
Shanka waited until Malia was out of earshot before she spoke again. “Are you amused, Old Master?”
“Immensely.” He slurped his soup loudly. “Have fun. Just don’t break his heart into too many pieces.”
“It’s not much of a plan at all, is it?” Malia asked.
“Rastaban’s a chauvinist pig. It won’t occur to him that I’m three steps ahead of him,” Shanka said. “Send runners out and tell the women to be ready.”
“Of course. The dancing was a nice touch, by the way.” And Malia faded into the shadows.
Shanka waited until Malia was out of earshot before she spoke again. “Are you amused, Old Master?”
“Immensely.” He slurped his soup loudly. “Have fun. Just don’t break his heart into too many pieces.”
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Know So
“I know you’re just doing this so you have an excuse to woo Kana.” Khouri stood beside Rastaban and watched the men depart in ragged little search parties.
“If she really is General Shanka - and we have every reason to believe she might be - having conquered her off the battlefield will only make conquest in the heat of battle more sweet.” Rastaban’s smile was sun-bright and heartbreaking, and more than one foolish woman in their clan had succumbed to it.
Khouri sighed. “If you say so.”
Rastaban’s laughter was soft, dangerous. “I don’t just say so - I know so.”
“If she really is General Shanka - and we have every reason to believe she might be - having conquered her off the battlefield will only make conquest in the heat of battle more sweet.” Rastaban’s smile was sun-bright and heartbreaking, and more than one foolish woman in their clan had succumbed to it.
Khouri sighed. “If you say so.”
Rastaban’s laughter was soft, dangerous. “I don’t just say so - I know so.”
Saturday, July 18, 2009
In Plain Sight
“And the plan is?” Khouri asked.
“You saw them - lieutenant and general, look-alikes. Two too many for coincidence, if I say so myself.” Rastaban knelt and drew in the dirt, brow furrowed in concentration. “Have the men check the other villages as we did, as traveling strangers, see if they recognize any of the women. Have them ask for rumours and legends about the army of women. An entire army doesn’t just disappear.”
“Her army did,” Rhajj said.
Rastaban grinned. “Maybe it did. Or maybe it’s just hiding in plain sight. Now go - we have an army to find.”
“You saw them - lieutenant and general, look-alikes. Two too many for coincidence, if I say so myself.” Rastaban knelt and drew in the dirt, brow furrowed in concentration. “Have the men check the other villages as we did, as traveling strangers, see if they recognize any of the women. Have them ask for rumours and legends about the army of women. An entire army doesn’t just disappear.”
“Her army did,” Rhajj said.
Rastaban grinned. “Maybe it did. Or maybe it’s just hiding in plain sight. Now go - we have an army to find.”
Friday, July 17, 2009
A Plan
“What is he thinking?” Rhajj asked, poking his head into the tent. Khouri glared at him, and he snapped off a belated salute.
“He’s thinking of wooing Kana,” Khouri said sourly.
“It would be an excellent tactic,” Rastaban said. “Woo her, get her to trust me, and use her as...bait. For Kana’s army. They’ll come running when they discover we’ve taken their general.”
“Except we won’t actually have their general,” Khouri pointed out.
“We won’t need to,” Rastaban said. He beckoned to Rhajj. “Tell the men to divide into small groups and recon the villages. I have a plan.”
“He’s thinking of wooing Kana,” Khouri said sourly.
“It would be an excellent tactic,” Rastaban said. “Woo her, get her to trust me, and use her as...bait. For Kana’s army. They’ll come running when they discover we’ve taken their general.”
“Except we won’t actually have their general,” Khouri pointed out.
“We won’t need to,” Rastaban said. He beckoned to Rhajj. “Tell the men to divide into small groups and recon the villages. I have a plan.”
Thursday, July 16, 2009
What I Know You're Thinking
“I don’t think I like the look on his face,” Khouri said to Rhajj. They’d thanked Aliana and Kana and before heading out of the village to rendezvous with the rest of the men.
Rastaban was glad to note that his men had quickly and quietly set up camp and spent the day preparing their weapons and gathering food.
“Any news of the army, sir?” the scout asked.
“None,” Rastaban said, and swept toward his tent.
Rhajj blinked, confused, and Khouri waved him aside to go organize the men.
“You can’t be thinking what I know you’re thinking,” Khouri said.
Rastaban was glad to note that his men had quickly and quietly set up camp and spent the day preparing their weapons and gathering food.
“Any news of the army, sir?” the scout asked.
“None,” Rastaban said, and swept toward his tent.
Rhajj blinked, confused, and Khouri waved him aside to go organize the men.
“You can’t be thinking what I know you’re thinking,” Khouri said.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Parody of a Man
“You really think she’s a general?” Rhajj asked.
Khouri elbowed him.
“She’s a real woman,” Rhajj said. “That Shanka is a female-shaped parody of a man.”
Rastaban wasn’t listening. He was watching. Kana moved like a snake, slow and sinuous, twining her limbs as if she had no bones, and then she would shimmy her hips, drum-fast and hypnotizing. After the first dance, more women stepped up to join her, and Rastaban had to swallow some wine to cool himself down.
“Well,” he said to his men, two hours later. “That was fun. But we should...go. Now.”
Khouri elbowed him.
“She’s a real woman,” Rhajj said. “That Shanka is a female-shaped parody of a man.”
Rastaban wasn’t listening. He was watching. Kana moved like a snake, slow and sinuous, twining her limbs as if she had no bones, and then she would shimmy her hips, drum-fast and hypnotizing. After the first dance, more women stepped up to join her, and Rastaban had to swallow some wine to cool himself down.
“Well,” he said to his men, two hours later. “That was fun. But we should...go. Now.”
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Already Lost One
Dancing? Rastaban paused, the goblet halfway to his lips. He knew the dancing of Shruti the other clan matrons and sisters, the jingle of bangles at wrists and ankles as they flirted with their eyes, stomped and spun, poised mid-air on one foot and arced their wrists to form lotus flowers. He knew, somehow, that this dancing would be different, slower and more potent, sensual and bewitching.
And when Kana emerged from the shadows, clad in silk scarves with gold coins glittering at her hips and chest, throat and hair, Rastaban knew that he had already lost one battle.
And when Kana emerged from the shadows, clad in silk scarves with gold coins glittering at her hips and chest, throat and hair, Rastaban knew that he had already lost one battle.
Not Coincidences At All
She blinked at him, confused, and then she threw her head back, laughed, the sound musical and deliriously sweet. “Oh, aren’t you sly? My name is Aliana, but you were close. Been listening to the children, have you?”
“The children?” Rastaban asked. She thought he was flirting with her? He’d been about to try that, granted, but -- this was uncanny. Two such coincidences were not coincidences at all, he was sure.
“They call me Mama Aliana - perhaps the little ones who cannot quite speak call me Malia.” She refilled his goblet with deft hands. “Eat! There will be dancing next.”
“The children?” Rastaban asked. She thought he was flirting with her? He’d been about to try that, granted, but -- this was uncanny. Two such coincidences were not coincidences at all, he was sure.
“They call me Mama Aliana - perhaps the little ones who cannot quite speak call me Malia.” She refilled his goblet with deft hands. “Eat! There will be dancing next.”
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Veritable Twin
Khouri and Rhajj looked suspicious of the food, but it wasn’t as if Kana could poison the food without harming all of the children who were eating it as well.
“Is it to your liking?” another woman asked.
Rastaban turned on his brightest smile, and his expression froze. The woman was a veritable twin of Shanka’s lieutenant, but she was dressed in lovely bright skirts and had a baby in a sling sleeping against her back.
Rhajj’s hand went to his belt, but Kana had asked them to stow their weapons out of the children’s reach.
“It’s delicious. Thanks, Malia.”
“Is it to your liking?” another woman asked.
Rastaban turned on his brightest smile, and his expression froze. The woman was a veritable twin of Shanka’s lieutenant, but she was dressed in lovely bright skirts and had a baby in a sling sleeping against her back.
Rhajj’s hand went to his belt, but Kana had asked them to stow their weapons out of the children’s reach.
“It’s delicious. Thanks, Malia.”
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Shanka's Nation
Supper was a loud and friendly affair. Kana’s home swarmed with children - orphans, she said, of the wars and raids that had plagued her village over the years, the same wars that had taken her parents. The children were bright-eyed and cheerful, climbing over everyone and everything, quick to squabble over their food, and just as quick to share it. Kana was mother and sister to them all, helping the little ones eat their food, mopping mess and wiping tears.
Rastaban was surprised at how delicious the food was, and he dug in heartily. So this was Shanka’s nation.
Rastaban was surprised at how delicious the food was, and he dug in heartily. So this was Shanka’s nation.
Friday, July 10, 2009
None Familiar Yet
She turned and led him toward a squat, smoky hut on the edge of the village green. Rastaban turned to look at his lieutenants, who were pale-faced, as if they had seen a ghost.
“That’s her!” Rhajj hissed.
Khouri elbowed him. “We have been invited to dine with a friendly local. Shut up!”
“She’s going to poison our food,” Rhajj said.
“If that’s her, we’ll find out soon enough,” Rastaban said. He followed the woman who called herself Kana and studied her carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the other women. None were familiar - yet.
“That’s her!” Rhajj hissed.
Khouri elbowed him. “We have been invited to dine with a friendly local. Shut up!”
“She’s going to poison our food,” Rhajj said.
“If that’s her, we’ll find out soon enough,” Rastaban said. He followed the woman who called herself Kana and studied her carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the other women. None were familiar - yet.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Call Me Kana
A little child darted out of the crowd and tugged on the woman’s skirt. “Sister, hungry!” he whined.
The woman smiled and ruffled his hair, and Rastaban swallowed hard. Behind him, Khouri and Rhajj shifted uneasily.
“All right, I shall cook soon. These travelers will dine with us tonight, so you be on your best behavior, hm?”
The boy peered up at Rastaban with wide, dark eyes. “Brother?” he asked.
“No, not my brother,” the woman said. “We call everyone brother and sister here, but if that is not your tradition, you may call me Kana. Please, eat with us.”
The woman smiled and ruffled his hair, and Rastaban swallowed hard. Behind him, Khouri and Rhajj shifted uneasily.
“All right, I shall cook soon. These travelers will dine with us tonight, so you be on your best behavior, hm?”
The boy peered up at Rastaban with wide, dark eyes. “Brother?” he asked.
“No, not my brother,” the woman said. “We call everyone brother and sister here, but if that is not your tradition, you may call me Kana. Please, eat with us.”
Kind Stranger
Rastaban spun around - and stared. The woman who stood before him might have been General Shanka but for the simple linen shift she wore and the baby she bore in her arms.
The little child peered up at him and gurgled happily.
Rastaban was quite sure that General Shanka couldn’t smile so sweetly.
“What brings you to our village? We have little food, but you are just in time for the festival of the new moon, if you would like to share our hearth fire.”
Rastaban summoned his most charming smile. “So generous of you, kind stranger. Your name is...?”
The little child peered up at him and gurgled happily.
Rastaban was quite sure that General Shanka couldn’t smile so sweetly.
“What brings you to our village? We have little food, but you are just in time for the festival of the new moon, if you would like to share our hearth fire.”
Rastaban summoned his most charming smile. “So generous of you, kind stranger. Your name is...?”
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Hello, Stranger
Sometimes, in distant dreams, Rastaban remembered life in his old village, before there was fire and death and blood. Sometimes he remembered his mothers eyes.
Just now, standing on the edge of this tiny village, he remembered that, for all he was the head of this army, he wasn’t one of Rami’s people, not the same color or height or anything but battle tactics and weapon fierceness.
These people here - they looked like him.
Most of his men were encamped beyond sight-line of the village with weapons and horses. Rastaban, Khouri, and Rhajj were playing travelers tonight.
“Hello, stranger.”
Just now, standing on the edge of this tiny village, he remembered that, for all he was the head of this army, he wasn’t one of Rami’s people, not the same color or height or anything but battle tactics and weapon fierceness.
These people here - they looked like him.
Most of his men were encamped beyond sight-line of the village with weapons and horses. Rastaban, Khouri, and Rhajj were playing travelers tonight.
“Hello, stranger.”
Monday, July 6, 2009
Following the Leader
“Here,” the scout said. “We were camped here. And we established a perimeter - they were over there.” He pointed. “And when we woke up, they were gone.”
Rastaban knelt and placed a hand on the flattened grass. The ashes from the fires were almost gone from the wind, faded over the week, but a massive camp had been here. He wished there was some way to find out how big her army truly was.
“They were headed north.” He straightened up. “We know where they live. We can draw them out.”
“How?” Rhajj asked.
“Follow me.” Rastaban hefted his spear.
Rastaban knelt and placed a hand on the flattened grass. The ashes from the fires were almost gone from the wind, faded over the week, but a massive camp had been here. He wished there was some way to find out how big her army truly was.
“They were headed north.” He straightened up. “We know where they live. We can draw them out.”
“How?” Rhajj asked.
“Follow me.” Rastaban hefted his spear.
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