The Warrior's Tale (38 page)

I allowed my women to be used as common labourers until half the galleys were completed, then stepped in and told Cholla Yi firmly his sailors and marines could finish the task. We had another job - to make sure the fleet would be well fed when we sailed on.

I remember clearly our first great hunt. I remember my women hallooing and rattling their spears against shields as the great boar snorted and broke out of the thicket
...
It pelted towards me, tusks gleaming dirty yellow in the late afternoon sunlight, blood glinting from the spear-wound in its shoulder. There were no other two-legs in the world but me, and for me nothing but those huge curved swords flashing as the boar squealed, put its head down for the charge, and ran onto the head of my spear. The shock sent me stumbling back, and I went to one knee, bracing the spear butt on the ground as the animal ran itself up onto the spear and against the cross-bit halfway down the shaft. It roared its soul to the heavens, stumbled sideways, and fell before it knew it was dead.

My women broke their spearwall and ran towards me, shouting congratulations. For a moment, I paid no mind, but sent up a prayer thanking Maranonia, and begging her to treat the spirit of the animal kindly. It had led us a hard chase along the steep slopes on the far side of the island, turning often to charge and try to break through the tightening cordon. Brought to bay, it had fought hard and died bravely. Polillo was loud in the beast's praise, as were some of the other Guardswomen.

For them, hunting was the noblest of pastimes, second only to war. For some of my women who came from the wilder provinces beyond Orissa, it was, in fact, a religious ceremony. For me, it was a task I enjoyed, since it was outside, it tested my muscles and ability to read the ground, and put food on my table that I myself had harvested. But there were other sports I enjoyed more - a cross-country paper chase, crag-climbing, or, without a weapon, tracking an animal to its lair to see her kits or just to watch how she passed her time. When I hunted, I preferred to take my game as simply as possible, hopefully to stalk it without it being aware, and to grant the gift of death before fear came on it.

It was interesting to see, though, how others felt, and how their feelings affected the way they performed this necessary task of supplying the fleet with meat for salting and smoking. Polillo, as I said, thought hunting the finest sport known. For her, that meant the chase itself. She loved to hunt by herself, or with one or two equally agile Guardswomen. She would start game and then run it down, killing it with a short spear or, sometimes even with a hatchet, thrown with deadly accuracy on the run and then giving the final grace with her gutting knife.

Corais, on the other hand, said she found hunting not only too much like work, but boring. She hunted alone, and
always
made a kill. Her method was simple, but difficult. She'd walk through an area two or three times before she armed herself, generally at first light and again at twilight. When she knew the habits of the animal she wished to take, she'd creep out and find a hide either in the middle of the night or at midday, when the animals slept. When her prey came to feed or water, Corais would strike. She preferred a short, heavy bow, and seldom needed but a single shaft to bring the animal down.

To others, hunting was more social. Ismet dearly loved to organize a hunt, with beaters driving the prey towards positioned killers, a hunt she'd laid out on a sandtable, making sure each hunter understood
exactly
what she was or was not to do. Sometimes I thought the hunt itself, with its precise moves and strikes, not unlike a running-ball match, was an end for her, and the kill no more than a trophy to award a well-played match.

We heeded The Sarzana's cautions, and didn't take any of his beast-men, not that any of us would've considered killing them, either for sport or food; nor did we hunt those animals who wore the diadem of his servitude. We also held to the code of the huntswoman, and took no animal with cubs or who was about to bear young or an unbred yearling. All the game we slew, or fish we hooked or speared, was for the p
ot. We paid no heed to brilliantl
y plumaged birds whose feathers might have graced our helmets, or exotically furred animals whose skin might have decorated shields or hauberk. After gutting and skinning, animals were either smoke-dried, brine-cured or potted. Game birds we netted or quicklimed and then gutted and salted their
bodies before packing them tightl
y into barrels.

We didn't need to spend any time fishing - that task was handled by working parties of seamen and The Sarzana's dolphins. It was eerie to watch. All that was needed was for sailors to wade out on a beach. Then the dolphins would drive the fish towards them, just
exactly
as I'd seen dogs drive sheep into their pens in the highlands above Orissa. Suddenly there'd come a threshing and splashing out in the bay, rapidly moving towards us. Then we'd see the fish, forced into schools, trying to escape the diligent dolphins. Once the fish were close inshore, and within the net's killing circle, the sailors would be ordered to drag out, and yet another bulging net of flashing silver would be beached, ready for cleaning and smoking.

I noted The Sarzana always took part in these fishing 'expeditions', and made sure, when the nets were dragged ashore, a portion was taken for him. He'd wade out into the low surf, moving awkwardly for a man whose trade had been the sea at one time, and toss a fish or two to each dolphin.

I told Gamelan about this reward, and he smiled, and said, 'Didn't I tell you once before that magic held more than its share of flummery? The Sarzana, not being a stupid man, doesn't waste his strength with spells when a well-thrown tunny can keep a servant bonded to him as strongly.'

As for vegetables, these were either dried or kept fresh with a rejuvenating spell The Sarzana cast for us. They would last at least a month, perhaps two at sea. Eggs were dipped in hot tallow, and would be good for three or four months.

Finally all the galleys were nearly ready for sea, and we wanted to be on our way. Orissa lay many, many leagues away, and we still needed help in finding a course home. I think all of us knew that our time here on Tristan was at an end. Now it was time to sail on.

The Sarzana's island gave us more than just a place to refit. It also let us relax, and let the long tension of pursuit,
battle
and blood ooze away, even though all of us knew we were half a world from home, and the seas between us were most unlikely to be peaceful ponds.

There was one strange and ugly incident that marred the calm.

I had the night duty and had just finished changing my guard at the second glass after midnight, when two Guardswomen pelted into the guardroom. One was Jacara, the other Ebbo, a spearwoman. Both of them had been assigned to Corais's detachment on the plateau above with The Sarzana. They brought themselves to attention and took several deep breaths before reporting. There'd been an attack on Corais. 'What happened,
exactly
?'

'We were not told the full details, Captain,'Jacara said. 'We heard shouts, turned to, and Legate Corais and Sergeant Bodilon were outside the building we're barracked in. Legate Corais ordered us to arm ourselves and make good haste to you, and report. She said she hadn't been injured, but requested your presence. She said there was no need to turn out the Guard.'

'Anything else?'

Jacara looked to either side, ensuring no one might overhear her, and even as my anger grew that someone or something had dared to attack one of my people, I noted Jacara's professionalism. 'The legate wore no armour, but was naked, except for her sword.'

I decided Corais might or might not have been right. I told the sergeant of the guard to wake all the watch, and post two sentries at each post. Then she was to wake the Guard, but without causing alarm or disturbing any of the sailors. I turned command over to Polillo, and, taking five of my steadiest women from the nightwatch, went back up those long flights of stairs with Ebbo and Jacara.

Corais's detachment was quartered in a small domed pavilion made of stone that might've been intended as a trysting place. It not only gave luxurious living quarters to Corais's squad, but sat separate from the other buildings on a low rise, and was the most easily defensible structure on the plateau. Torches blazed around the pavilion, and as I trotted towards it I saw The Sarzana's mansion come to life as well.

Corais's women were ready for
battle
, swords unsheathed, bows strung and broadheads tucked into archers' belts. Corais, now wearing full battle array, sat, grim-faced, behind a table just inside the entrance.

She stood as I entered, and saluted. Before I could say anything, she said, 'Captain, may I report privately?'

I dismissed the others. Cora
is looked about her, and evidentl
y decided she might still be overheard. She led me outside. I could see, just at the edges of the torch light, the gleam of armour, where she'd put out sentries in the darkness. I waited, but some seconds passed before she spoke. I could see Corais's face, and it was pale, and shaken, far more than I'd ever seen her look even after a battle where we'd both lost friends. I realized something was very wrong, softened my voice, and told her to report, from the beginning.

Since the weather was so pleasant, she said she'd taken to sleeping on a cot just outside the pavilion's entrance. Perhaps it was wrong, but there were guards set at the four compass points around her, and she 'felt' no
harm could come to her. 'Evidentl
y,' she said, 'I was overconfident.'

She'd gone to sleep wearing what she normally did when on standby, as all of us were - light, quilted underclothing of silk that would serve as padding under her armour if she were called out.

'I was dreaming,' she said. She fell silent for a long rime. I was about to prod her, but something said not to. 'I dreamed of
...
men,' she eventually continued. 'A man, actually. I thought my mind painted him clearly, giving me ever}' detail, but I guess I was wrong. All that I can remember is that he was tall, broadly muscled, black hair close-cropped I think, clean-shaven, and with a smile that spoke of dark sins and their pleasures. He was naked.

'His
...
his member stood erect, and he came towards me.' Corais shuddered. 'I knew what he intended, and
...
and I
wanted
it! I wanted him to take me!'

She turned to the side and was rackingly sick, vomiting again and again, trying to purge not only her body but her mind. I shouted for Bodilon to bring a rag, a washbasin, and wine. Corais started to say more, but I motioned silence until the sergeant had left. I sponged Corais's face, and made her rinse her mouth with wine, then drink a full cup.

'How in the name of Maranonia could I have wanted
that?
she said. 'The idea of
...
of being with a man has
always
sickened me. You know that.'

I did. Corais, like myself, was fortunate in that we'd never thought of the embrace of men as desirable, nor had either of our parents forced the notion on us.

'He was about to
...
about to touch me,' Corais went on, 'and then, for just one moment, I came back to myself, and it was as if I were struggling upward for air, through some pool of slime, and I would never wake in time.

'But I did, and the spell broke, and I saw that loathsome body for what it was. I was awake, and I was naked, and Rali, as I love you, as I love the Guard, as I love Maranonia, I swear that creature was still there, bending over me, one knee trying to force my thighs apart! I shouted, and rolled to the side, and came up with my sword in hand, ready to strike. But—'

'But there wasn't anybody there,' I finished for her. 'And your sentries were fully alert and said no one had come between them.'

I could see what Corais was about to say next, and put out a hand to touch her lips into silence.

'You weren't dreaming,' I said.

‘I
know that. But how can you?'

I didn't have an answer, but I spoke the truth. I did know. Something or someone had tried to rape Corais, rape or more, and it was not a nightmare, but something that stalked this island, and lived, either through sorcery or in the real world. Scribe, don't ask me where this truth came from. From my own ghosts, from the power I was learning from Gamelan, from the goddess herself, from my faith in Corais, who had told me once her only dreams were of sylvan glades with gambolling animals.

Corais's eyes were wet. She stared long into my face, and then nodded once. 'Thank you,' she whispered, 'for believing me.'

I was about to say something more, then noticed, standing beyond the sentries, one of The Sarzana's grotesquely costumed beast-men. I went to him. He held out one of the ivory tablets. I paid no mind.

'Take my greetings to your master,' I said. 'I wish an audience with him in one hour. Go!'

The creature looked at me, and I saw fear in its eyes. It bounded away into darkness.

I turned back to Corais.

An hour later, I tramped up the long path to The Sarzana's mansion. Flanking me were two squads of Guardswomen, weapons ready. There were two beast-men waiting at the steps. I paid them no mind, butstrode past them into the mansion's hall, without removing my helm.