The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (15 page)

"Master?" Jatel whispered. Fear was heard in his voice.

"Squire," Ka-Ron stated, allowing the seriousness of her tone not escape the ears of her lover. "You forget yourself. I, personally, taught the Queen the feminine arts of Ki-Qui."

"Ki-Qui?" Hathaway inquired. His eyes kept darting from the invading Captain to that of Ka-Ron's brave stance.

Jatel smiled. The squire hit himself, softly, upon the forehead.

"In the ancient days of Idoshia," Jatel explained, "the women of our kingdom fought along side of their men. They were fierce warriors, as cruel in combat as they were gentle in love. The warring tactic they used was called Ki-Qui. In the ancient tongue, the words meant "Spinning Death."

Hathaway said nothing. He silently thanked the squire for his explanation with a grateful bow. The Ship's Captain was certain that Jatel meant well, but clearly, the expression of worry on his face showed great concern about Ka-Ron's future. He stretched out his arms, ordering his men to give Ka-Ron all the room on deck she would ever need.

The Main Deck cleared itself for the battle that was soon to begin. Not only did the living respect what was coming, but the dead were also moved by hands wishful for a fair field of battle.

"I will use your breasts as wine sacs!" the
Xow
Captain bragged. He took several steps backward, swinging his sword through the air.

"And I will have your balls for earrings." Ka-Ron retorted, smiling.

The Xow Captain raised his sword above his head, slanting it at a jaunty angle.

"Ahh!" Ka-Ron said, "You are using the classic assault of the armies of Caffeh. A noble start."

The Xow said nothing. His eyes narrowed.

"Captain," Ka-Ron said, not looking away from the Xow
.
"My apologies."

For an instant, Hathaway had no idea why Ka-Ron had offered up her apologies. In his eyes, she was doing nothing wrong. In his eyes, she was protecting the honor of her man - a noble endeavor, if there ever was one! He was soon to see why she thought it best to give sympathies.

With one hand on her sword, and the other on her dress, Ka-Ron ripped her dress top off, revealing the full beauty of her appearance. Gasps of wonder came from all on board, including the Xow
.

Jatel knew this was coming.

"Captain, the female of our lands fight bare breasted." the squire tried to explain.

Ka-Ron's beauty made it impossible for anyone to hear.

"Let us make war." Ka-Ron whispered.

The Xow Captain took only one step forward.

Deep in concentration, Ka-Ron challenged herself to remain calm. In her teaching of the Queen of Idoshia the knight always stressed the importance of remaining calm. Women had a tendency to rule their actions by the fire of their passions. This made them volatile - valuable in war. A man used calculations and rage when in war - both unpredictable in battle. If one were to engage unpredictability and rage, passion was an end to the argument. Ka-Ron hated to admit it, having once been a man, but women had a natural ability to protect that which they honored or loved. Could a warrior ask for anything less?

Again, the crew gave way, giving both Ka-Ron and the Xow Captain all the room they needed. This was indeed a novelty. No one had ever seen a woman weld a sword at a Slaver Captain.

"I'm going to own your soul." the Xow Captain warned, scanning Ka-Ron's body. A sneer formed upon his face. "Then, I'm going to own you."

"Blow me," was Ka-Ron's response.

From the corner of her eye, Ka-Ron saw Captain Hathaway and his men taking bets on the outcome.

"Five to one on the fair lady," Hathaway challenged, writing odds down on a piece of paper. "Any takers?"

One brave sailor counter-offered.

"Seven to one on the Xow!"

All froze, giving the unfortunate one a hard and isolated glance.

"Well, you know&" the sailor fidgeted. "Free enterprise, and all that."

"Place your bets!" Hathaway barked.

The deck sang with both anticipation and capitalization.

Ka-Ron broke her concentration only to smile in the amusement of the thing.

That was when the Xow Captain struck his first blow.

"Oh, shit!" Ka-Ron huffed, blocking the attack.

The Xow's attack was both hard and calculated.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Ka-Ron thought as she countermanded the blow. The damn scum was just waiting for the right moment to strike. His strength was fantastic, and the knight discovered far greater than that of a woman's. Brute force was not on her side. She would have to rely on her wits to overcome this shit-storm.

The crew of the
Raxziel
started to shout, giving the sailor arranging bets against Ka-Ron an evil look. Hathaway was gathering up the monies, making sure that all sides were honest.

Brave and loving Jatel was positively a nervous wreck.

"Die! You bitch!" the Xow shouted.

The force of impact upon her sword caused it to sing out in a shimmer of agony. An agony she had never heard it shudder before. She opened her eyes, bit down on her bottom lip, and struggled with all her passion and power, finally realizing that, on this day, she was not going to die. That raised her hopes immensely!

"Ka-Ron!" Jatel shouted, his voice filled with great concern.

The shout brought the knight strength.

Forced on one knee, Ka-Ron pushed the Xow's weapon away from her face. Her arms were on fire. Her back ached with the song of impending doom. And her ass was becoming a distraction because of a curious itch. The salt air was irritating the rug burns, which had been placed there by Jatel in the indulgence of their passions. Damn!

Another curious sensation hit her. She was becoming seasick.

The knight slowly rose to her feet, pushing the Xow Captain's blade back upon himself. She was breaking out in a cold sweat. He, on the other hand, was smiling. A subtle laugh came from his struggles.

"I have all day, love."

Ka-Ron's eyes opened. She paid little attention towards her queasy stomach.

"You are toying with me!" the knight shouted.

The Xow winked at her, confirming her suspicions.

"Jatel!" Ka-Ron yelled, posing an empty hand in the Squire's direction. "My other sword, please!"

The squire responded with lightning speed. A flash of steel, and a loud thump in her hand, Ka-Ron backed away from the slaver captain, welding two swords. Her face was filled with rage.

"No one makes a fool of me, dear sir!" Ka-Ron huffed.

"You are worse than a fool," the Xow laughed. "You are nothing but a woman."

A hush filled the ship. Hathaway and his men let out a low moan, knowing quite well that the slaver's remark had hit a sensitive spot. Any one who had any limited experience with women knew, quite well, that you do not bring up sex in a competition with one of them. To do so invited disaster.

Ka-Ron closed her eyes, as if in prayer. She bent her knees, placing both feet in a single line. Her arms were extended outward, making her look like a top about ready to spin.

"Captain," Jatel whispered, sneaking up behind him. "Take your men off this deck to the command deck above."

"Why?" the Captain inquired.

"Just do it," the squire insisted. "Then, when I call, get ready to take your vessel back."

Ka-Ron began to spin the swords in each hand, making them appear to be nothing but steel blurs. A curious breeze was created by this effect, making it feel almost inviting.

The Xow Captain watched Ka-Ron in great amusement.

Ka-Ron began to hop up and down.

"What in blooming hell is she doing?" Hathaway asked.

"Her duty," Jatel replied, beaming.

Ka-Ron bowed her head, resting her chin upon her breastbone. She glanced towards the left, allowing her eyes to focus, solidly, upon that field of vision. The knight then tilted her hips to match the momentum of her body. If asked to speak, or to explain what she was doing, at this point, it would have been impossible for her to do so - her concentration would not have allowed for it. Indeed, if a medical practitioner were to hear the beating of her hearts, he would have heard close to nothing!

The surrounding slavers backed away from Ka-Ron, thinking her mad.

Ka-Ron started to spin counter-clockwise, with herself almost becoming a blur.

"To the gods!" Hathaway whispered. His confusion showed honestly to Jatel as he looked at the squire in amazement. "She knows the arts of the invisible!"

"No," Jatel stated, shaking his head negatively. "She is still there, Captain. It is not called "The Spinning Death" for nothing."

On the defensive, the Xow Captain lowered himself even with the ship's deck, pointing his sword outward. He could not see Ka-Ron, but he could hear her. A strong humming sound was coming from her swords, which, were spinning in an opposite direction from her.

"All hands attack!" the slaver captain ordered.

Hathaway took his sword out, moaning, miserably. "Gods! I curse the day my father met my mother. For by the end of this battle I will be either in chains or close to my death."

"That could happen any day, Captain-friend," Jatel suggested, pulling several daggers out from his vest and armor. "We must each fight for the end of the day. That is the way of the world."

Hathaway said nothing. He only ordered his men to the attack with a tired moan.

Before any could take action, several slaver sailors exploded into nothing more than a cloud of pink mist. One by one, limb by limb, seemed to evaporate and dissolve before any other action could be taken, as if the gods were so insulted by their existence that they all called the sailors back to the shadows and nether regions from wince they came.

"It's black magic!" someone cried.

"No! It's Ka-Ron," Jatel reassured them.

The Xow Captain was not so amused.

"I shall find you, woman!" the salver captain sneered. He squinted his eyes, concentrating on the air around him. He waited. Held his breath. And waited some more.

Then, he shivered once, and attacked.

With a scream, the Xow Captain approached the ship's helm and hacked away at the huge wooden wheel. He was mad with rage, and appeared to be slicing away at the air.

Then, for no reason, he paused.

Like a statue, the Xow stood with his sword pointing up toward the suns.

The fighting stopped.

All eyes were on the Xow.

A gull, looking for a place to rest, innocently perched itself upon the slaver captain's right shoulder. It did not rest there for long.

As a huff of surprise came from all the men, the Xow Captain's body collapsed, hitting the wooden deck and breaking into several bloodied pieces.

At almost the same time, a blur of flesh and steel came to a dizzying halt.

Ka-Ron stopped spinning. In her exhaustion, she dropped her swords.

"Sire!" Jatel yelled. He managed to catch her before she hit the deck.

Hathaway, smiling ear-to-ear, spread the winning bets out among his men. He was more than happy to do the duty. "All hands! Let's show our guests the door."

Ka-Ron, exhausted, meekly opened her eyes to see Jatel's panicked features gazing down upon her. To the Errant-Knight's surprise, Jatel was crying.

"Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Got something in my eye, sire."

Ka-Ron smiled. "Of course."

The crew of the
Raxziel
found a new energy in their defiance. With the Captain of the
Skree
dead and in several pieces, they knew the threats from him were no more. And, a slaver ship without a captain was truly a pathetic thing.

Blood sprayed upon the deck like a ship caught in a maelstrom.

"Should we not help our boarders?" Ka-Ron whispered. She was low on energy, and could barely keep her eyes open. Ki-Qui had the ability of doing that.

"Are you up to it?" the squire asked.

Ka-Ron kissed one of Jatel's hands. "My love, when was I ever not prepared for battle?"

Jatel shook his head. "You are impossible!"

"Of course."

Both rose to their feet and joined the fight.

With the taste of blood in her mouth, Ka-Ron's energy level improved. She was once more able to wield a sword. Before she turned and disappeared into a wall of slavers, she gave Jatel an order. "Go to our cabin and get my armaments."

Jatel followed his orders.

Jatel ran down several flights of stairs until he reached the door to his and Ka-Ron's cabin. The door burst open, and the squire bolted through it with thunderous speed and determination. Upon pausing, the man found his hands shaking uncontrollably. Exhaustion and stress caused his knees to give way, and the man literally collapsed upon the threshold.

"For the gods! I am in love with a mad woman," Jatel whispered.

The man's senses returned to him, however, and he reached out to gather Ka-Ron's armaments. These consisted of leg daggers, leather coverings, and a few more battle swords.

He was indeed proud of her performance. It was her first since losing her manhood. Still, Jatel cared for Ka-Ron and did not wish to light a funeral fire in her honor any time soon.

There was a feeling about the room.

Jatel sensed it.

Also, there was a scent of sulfur.

The men above, on deck, chanted a battle cry that caused the squire to liven up his pace. His master needed his aide, and he intended to be by her side until the last blow. Jatel wiped the sweat off his brow and turned to join the fight.

Kai stood inches away.

Her gaze locked with Jatel's.

"For the gods!" the man cried, backing away more out of surprise than fear.

The Wicca Master sneered down at Jatel, allowing herself to grow in size. She towered higher than any man he had seen in battle. She was a devil to reckon with.

The squire squared his jaw, bit down on his fear, and unsheathed his sword.

"Dear woman!" he shouted, "I fear you not."

"Dear man," Kai countermanded. Her amusement only added to Jatel's frustration. "If I were you, I would fear!"

The stateroom filled with a powerful wind, not unlike that of a crazed hurricane. Jatel found it hard to stand. A foul stench filled his nostrils, and he had to swallow hard his breakfast, which, in his disgust, was coming back up for air. Still, these were simple tricks taught in the ranks of Idoshian combat. He would live.