Zara the Wolf (8 page)

"You have honor?" he asked.

I bared my neck, showing the wolf-head tattoo.

He stared at it for a long time and then nodded. "You
strange, but that Ojaza warrior tattoo. Does Ojaza warrior have honor?" He
moved his hand for a better grip on his sword.

"More than the white men," I said, provoking a genuine
laugh.

"What you suggest, Wolf?"

"I will bring the mule and three hands of long swords
here in a hand-of-hands’ days. You will bring the blonde-haired girl alone. I
will leave the mule and take the girl," I said, and a slight smile touched
his lips. "The white men have explosives. I will carry some with me. If
someone without honor tries to ambush me, the Wolf will kill the girl and will
seek revenge with the white man's explosives. Many will die for the dishonor of
a few."

"You are named well. If we see a trap, we will kill the
girl and seek revenge."

I took out an arrow, pricked my finger with the arrowhead,
smeared the blood on the tip, and handed it to him. He took one of his arrows
and did the same.

"I'm Ohnee the Viper." He bared his neck to show the
head of a viper.

"Zara the Wolf."

* * *

As I made my way down the mountain, I contemplated my
agreement. Neither of us fully trusted the other, but we had given what amounted
to an oath to the spirits we were named after—which was very bad medicine
to break—and we had made sure the other knew the consequences of breaking
the oath. It was the best I could do.
Now
to convince the Baron,
I mused.

Eight days later, I entered Redrock around midday and
decided to stop at the Rusty Mug for a hot meal. I had been eating cold meals,
both to avoid fires that could give away my position if anyone were following
and to make better time. The Pub was full, but I found myself a place at the
end of a long table and sat. I got lots of hard looks. Soon a young girl appeared.

"What can I get you, ma’am?" she asked, smiling.

"What's the special?"

"Stew—" she started to say but was
interrupted by a big man about halfway down the table.

"Me," he said, smiling and pointing to his chest.

"Stew, bread, and water," I said, and she hurried
off.

"Water?" the big guy said it like a bad word.

"Not a good idea to talk to royalty drunk, is it?"
I asked.

"You?"

"I'd rather get drunk, but ... " I left the rest
for him to fill in.

"What about?" Another man asked.

"I think I'd rather go see him drunk than tell you his
business." I laughed and got nods of agreement and snorts in response. One
thing led to another, and I told them I had been a guard on a caravan and an
abbreviated story of the attempted robbery.

The stew was watery but tasty. I sighed in relief as I left.
I had managed to avoid an incident with the big guy, who seemed to be looking
for an argument. The last thing I needed was trouble.

When I reached the gate, the guard held me while a private
went to tell the baron I had arrived. An hour later, I was escorted to the baron's
study by two guards.

"What do you have to report?" he said as he would
to a servant. Fortunately, I had expected his reaction and felt relaxed.

"Your nephew is dead, but your niece lives. They will
trade her for a mule and fifteen long swords," I said, waiting for his
knee-jerk reaction.

"What? You will show my captain where their camp is located,
and he and his troop will kill the whole village!" he shouted as he stood
and came marching around his desk toward me. "We don't barter with savages."

"Your captain will bring home your niece's head. That's
all he will find, unless he has less than five hundred troopers. In that case,
the Indians will get more than fifteen swords—and horses instead of a
mule."

"Who do you think you are? You're nothing but a
savage—"

"A savage who is working for Duke Wetzel, not you. I'll
return and tell him you don't like his solution," I said quietly.
"Oh, their camp is a three-week walk up the mountain. You can't miss it.
I'll point out the peak it's under to your captain before I leave. The duke is
expecting a report from me."

"Alright, we'll do it your way," he said after a
long silence.

I could see that Baron Hillard wanted to have me beaten or
worse, except the duke had sent me, and the consequences of harming me were
unknown. Instead, I could see he planned to follow me and ambush us, and
undoubtedly to give his captain orders to see that I died in the fighting.

I left the office with a headache. I didn't like the tribes,
but I had nothing against the Sheqn, and I had given my word. And my good name might
prove critical in any future dealings with the tribes. Besides, the tribes
would just wipe out the detail Hillard would send and they would kill the girl.
How did that benefit anyone? I lay awake most of the night, trying to decide
what to do.

* * *

The next day, I assembled the necessary ransom and ten
sticks of explosives without any trouble, since the Baron had authorized I get
whatever I needed. I noticed that the soldiers were preparing to leave, based
on the activity going on within the barracks and stables. I estimated around
sixty soldiers. I had sixteen days before the meeting, and it would only take
eight days to reach the site—eight days to play with. I didn't wait for morning
and left as soon as everything was assembled. Instead of heading in the
direction of the meeting, I made my way to a point twenty miles to the west,
and for the next four days, I climbed high into the mountains. By now, the
soldiers were more than a day behind me, because they had to lead their horses and
were falling farther behind each hour. Feeling it was going to snow within the
next twelve hours, I turned east toward the meeting site. The troopers were
lost and confused, and the snow would make it worse. Even if they could track
me, they would be several days late to the meeting. I smiled. They would hate
Zara the Wolf for losing them, never knowing I had saved their lives.

* * *

I arrived a day and a half early and used the time to scout
the area. The next day, Ohnee appeared with twenty warriors and the girl, but
he did stop them a mile short of the meeting site. When he saw me, he was quick
to explain.

"I brought four hands of warriors in case there was
trouble. They are not here for you."

"I left soldiers," I said while opening both my
hands six times. "One day west of here, They are lost, hungry, and think
your camp is higher, in those mountains. They should give up in a day or
two."

"I thought maybe you intended to sneak around behind
us." He laughed, tossing me the rope attached to the girl's collar.

"With that bunch of wives?" I said using the term
meaning an Indian woman who had never been a warrior.

He laughed. "You are welcome in our camp, Zara the
Wolf," he said turning and trotting off with the mule.

I released the collar on the girl's neck before speaking. "What's
your name?"

"Shelly," she said hesitantly.

"Well Shelly, we need to leave in case he changes his
mind and decides he can have his ransom and two slaves," I said, taking
her hand and beginning a slow trot down a small trail going east rather than
south, in case there were warriors waiting on the logical trail down to the
valley. I kept moving well into the night, even though I saw no sign of
trouble. I stopped around midnight when I knew Shelly couldn't go any farther.
I sat back against a tree, and she curled up beside me for warmth and was
asleep in seconds. I waited for her to wake, hoping the sleep would revive her
strength enough for an all-day fast walk.

"Here, Shelly. It's not tasty, but it will give you
energy," I said, giving her a small bag with trail food. "If things
go well today, maybe we can have a hot meal tomorrow."

She nodded and took the bag and began eating.

"How did you get captured?" I asked, not sure how
the Sheqn had been able to kidnap someone of royalty. They were usually well
protected and out of the tribes’s reach.

"Uncle Hillard asked if we wanted to visit the mines.
It sounded exciting so ... Phillip and I said yes. Mother didn't want us to go,
but father said it would be safe with Uncle Hillard." She stuffed another
handful of food in her mouth and chewed a minute before continuing with tears
in her eyes. "Then Phillip decided he wanted to explore the area. Uncle
Hillard sent two guards with us, but Phillip wouldn't listen to their warnings
about the area not being safe, and they had no authority to make us turn back.
We had been out several hours and the sun was beginning to set when the Sheqn
attacked us. They killed the guards and dragged us into the foothills."

"What happened to Phillip?"

"He kept telling them that Uncle Hillard would send
troops and kill all the savages if they didn't let us go. They beat him until
he finally stopped. When we reached the camp, he refused to work, so they wouldn't
give him food. I tried to share mine with him, but they caught me and beat me.
He died a week later. I should have refused to eat ... "

"No, your brother was brave but stupid," I said.
Actually, I thought him an idiot. "I was kidnapped by the Ojaza tribe and
made a slave. I escaped. You survived and you escaped. You can't escape if
you're dead."

* * *

Feeling the Sheqn had kept their word, I hunted game and
stopped for a hot meal every other day. By the time we reached the foothills,
Shelly looked better, and she was a fountain of questions. I concluded the
experience would make her a stronger person.

When we reached the lower foothills, Baron Hillard's captain
found us. He appeared mad at me, but what could he do. I hadn’t agreed to lead
them to the meeting. They had secretly followed me.

"Lady Shelly, are you alright? Where is Lord Phillip?"
the captain asked while glaring at me.

"Yes, Captain Nixsen, thanks to Zara I'm safe. Lord
Phillip is dead."

"We will avenge him, Lady Shelly."

"Thank you for the thought, captain, but I doubt
that," she said and raised a hand to stop him from responding. She and I
had discussed the problems an army would have trying to wipe out the tribes,
and she had proved perceptive in understanding the issues. The captain found a
horse for Shelly, and I declined a halfhearted offer for one. I might be the
slowest of the Ojaza, but I could still run a horse to death.

I reached the compound several hours ahead of the captain's
troop and was saddling my horse and inspecting him and my gear when a man
dressed like a lower level administrator approached.

"The baron wants you in his office now," he half
shouted.

"You may tell the baron that his captain will be here
within a few hours with Lady Shelly. I'm late for a meeting with Duke Wetzel,"
I said, swinging up onto Greystone. I didn't think I could survive another
meeting with Baron Hillard. It had been easier dealing with Ohnee the Viper. I
laughed as I exited the gate and turned toward Calle.

I took my time on the way back to Calle. Saving Shelly had
been very satisfying, if I ignored having to deal with Baron Hillard. Shelly
would have been very unlikely to escape and would have spent her life in
captivity, bearing Sheqn children.

I reached the outskirts of the city on the morning of the
sixth day and made my way directly to the castle. After explaining the duke had
sent me to Redrock and wanted my report when I returned, I was admitted and
taken to a private room where I was served sweets and a strong coffee. I walked
around admiring the paintings of battle scenes, what looked like people and
angels, and portraits. The large room appeared almost empty although it
contained four chairs and several small tables. Sometime later, the same man
came and escorted me to the duke's study. After surrendering my sword and
dagger, I was permitted to enter. He waved me to a chair. I bowed to the Cheyo
Monk, who sat on the floor against the wall, his head covered by a hood three
sizes too big and his body with an oversized robe. If I hadn’t known better, I
would have thought the Monk was but a bundle of discarded cloth. He nodded in
response.

"Your Grace." I bowed in his direction. "You
said you wanted to see me when I returned," I said before sitting.

"Zara, Baron Hillard thinks you should be arrested and
jailed for consorting with the tribes," he said, taking a chair facing me
and sitting. That didn't surprise me and was the reason I had left without
speaking with him. But apparently, the baron wanted his pound of flesh for
thwarting his plans and had sent a messenger to the duke. "Did you consort
with the tribes?"

"I made a deal with a Sheqn warrior—a mule and
fifteen long swords for the baron's niece. His nephew refused to work and was
starved to death. So, I guess I consorted with the tribe for her release,"
I said.

"And I suppose Baron Hillard sent troops to ambush the
trade?"

"Sixty cavalry." I nodded.

Wetzel laughed. "Which you lost on the mountain."

"Yes. The Sheqn would have killed the girl and the
cavalry eventually."

"Good work. How much do I owe you?" he asked, head
cocked awaiting a response. I thought I could reasonably ask for several gold
coins, but I hadn't negotiated a commission, and in fact had been careful not
to. I didn't need the money, and having the duke's good will was worth more.

"Nothing, Your Grace. Saving Lady Shelly was its own
reward. She's a bright young girl who will benefit from the experience."

"Honorable Monk?" Wetzel said as a question to
something. I would have sworn I could see the Monk through a blue haze, sitting
naked lotus style on a boulder in the middle of a small stream. His legs and
one arm were deformed. I too was naked, not just my body but also my mind—and
the wolf-spirit I had never seen.

"The Ojaza medicine man who tattooed you endowed you with
the true spirit of the wolf. That spirit blends perfectly with your basic
personality to make you complete," he whispered, but I could hear him above
the sound of the water rippling in the distance.

"Zara is what she appears to be," the Monk said
quietly, jerking me back into the room.

"I thought so." He turned back to me. "I
would like to hire you, Zara."

"For what, Your Grace?" I asked. I needed a job,
but I wanted one that would allow me to travel Aesona, meet a variety of
people, and determine where I fit and would be comfortable—at peace.

"Candidates for Cheyo Monk are taught at the Trasslat
Monastery. Many are admitted, but few are judged pure and made Monks," he
said.

Blinded
,
I translated mentally.

He went on. "But it appears some of those candidates,
although not pure, were more talented than their instructors realized. They
left Trasslat and started their own school. Their members have formed a secret
society, which has become increasingly powerful over the past few years. I believe
they now have royalty involved or under their influence. I'd like you to do
what you did at Redrock—go look and evaluate the situation for me."

I didn't know what to say—rogue Monks, secret society,
royalty involved, go look? How? Where?

After an astonished pause, I blurted, "Me?"

"You will have all the money you need for travel and
clothes, a letter from me to gain entrance to the royalty, and the Cheyo Monks'
support." Wetzel said, sounding a little desperate.

"How do they get by the Monks?" I asked.

"Not everyone has a Cheyo Monk. But to answer your
question, we don't know. And your other question,
Why you?
Because of your handling of the kidnapping incident. That
shows you're intelligent, have good instincts, and the Honorable Monk believes
your wolf-spirit gift gives you an advantage."

"I'm honored, but ... I need time to think about it. I've
spent more time as a savage than a citizen of Aesona."

"I understand. Most people would jump at the
opportunity. The pay and benefits are great if you forget it's extremely
dangerous and the odds of living through it aren't good. But then the odds of
getting Lady Shelly free weren't good either, especially with Baron Hillard's
unrealistic view of the world." He grinned. "Will you be staying at
the Lazy Mug?"

I nodded, too numb to speak.

* * *

Two monsters waged a battle of epic proportions inside my
bruised and battered skull: one with battle ax and chain whip, demanding I
refuse the duke's commission since it was too dangerous and wouldn't help me
find what I was searching for; the other with a hammer and long sword,
demanding I take the commission or incur the wrath of the duke and the royalty
throughout Aesona. I tossed and turned each night, waking soaked in sweat. I
gagged on my food and wandered the town aimlessly until late into the night.

I was barely fit to be loose in Aesona society, and the duke
expected me to interact with royalty. And I needed a cover story. I couldn't
just announce I was looking for rogue Monks without inviting a knife in my
back. And how was I going to deal with people who could get inside your head?
The duke's Monk had stripped me naked and opened my mind like a book.

On the fifth day, I found myself back at the castle, asking
to see the duke.

"Have you decided?" he asked when I entered the
room and then shook his head. "No, I see you haven't."

It was like a slap across my face, and I realized I hadn't
bathed or changed clothes since I had talked with him. I must have looked like
a street beggar.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace, I'll leave ... " I
mumbled, beginning to back out.

"Zara, stop!" he said, and I froze. "You came
here for a reason. What was it?"

"I'd like to speak to the Honorable Monk." I
didn't know how that was going to help, only that it was important.

"Guard, get Minister Niver." He sat back and
sipped at his wine while we waited. Thankfully, Niver wasn't long in coming,
because I felt scared like a wolf in an iron leg-trap. "Niver, see that
Zara gets a bath, clean clothes to wear while hers are being cleaned, something
hot to eat, and a place to rest for as long as she wants. Zara, when you are
rested, the Monk will speak with you." The duke looked to where the Monk
sat in a corner to the side of the duke.

"Zara, you have learned to calm your mind, or you would
not be alive today. When you have rested and cleansed your mind of the turmoil,
I will speak with you," said the Monk, but I had the strange feeling that
only I heard him.

"Thank you, Honorable One," I said as I followed
Minister Niver out the door and up the stairs down another hallway and into a
spacious bedroom.

"If you will get undressed, someone will be in shortly
with hot water, soap, and towels to help you," he said, giving me a small
bow before leaving. I took a couple of steps into the room and stood there
still in shock. The room was five times the size of my room at the inn. It had
a large puffy bed big enough for three people, with small tables on each side,
two easy chairs with silk cushions, and two large elaborately carved dressers.
I stood on a rug embroidered with vines and yellow and orange flowers, and red silk
drapes covered the long narrow windows on either side of the bed. It was a room
fit for royalty.

As I stood there unsure what to do, a knock at the door
jarred me back to the present. "Yes?" I said, and two women entered
with a steaming bucket of water, towels, jars of something, and clothes.

"Lady, we are here to help you … freshen up," said
the older one, who was several years younger than me, as the other began
filling a bowl with the hot water. "My name is Melisa. I will help you undress
if you like. I have clothes for you to wear while yours are cleaned."

Still in a fog, I undressed and was led to the bowl, where
the two scrubbed me from head to foot, dressed me in a skirt and blouse of
silk, grabbed up my old clothes, and disappeared out the door. As I stood fascinated
by the feel of the material, there was another knock at the door.

"Yes?" I answered, still confused, and the same
two girls entered with plates of food they sat on the table next to one of the
chairs.

"Can we get you anything else, My Lady?" Melisa
asked.

"No thank you. Melisa, you can call me Zara. I'm not
royalty, just hired help."

"… Zara, just pull the red cord," she pointed to a
cord by the bed, "if you need anything." She bowed and they left. I
sat staring at the array of food on the table, enough for three or four
people—very hungry people: two stuffed birds, a meat stew with carrots
and potatoes, a good sized flayed fish, bread, cheese, and wine. The smell made
me realize I was hungry, and I began eating. I took a sip of the wine only
because no water was available. My hunger satisfied, I crawled onto the bed and
fell asleep.

When I woke, the room was dark. Looking out the window, it
appeared to be about midnight. Rested, I found a small space along the wall and
sat. It took a long time for me to quiet my mind, to forget where I was and why
I was there. A knock at the door brought me back.

"Enter." I said, finally at peace. Melisa entered,
looked around the room until she found me, and froze; her face pale with
fright.

"Don't be afraid. You aren't disturbing me. I'm just
relaxing."

"If you are ready to eat or wash … "

"Just water to drink, please. I'm still full from
dinner yesterday. I think I'll fast today."

"Yes … Zara," she said hesitantly and quickly
left. She returned several minutes later with a large jug of water she placed
on the table. "Pull the red cord if you want anything," she said
before closing the door.

After a cup of water and relieving myself, I returned to my
place, sat, closed my eyes, and quieted my mind. I had much to consider. No one
bothered me as the day turned to night and the night to day twice. My panic was
gone, and I was ready to face the issues with a clear mind, so I pulled on the
red cord. Melisa appeared instantly, as if she had been waiting outside the
door.

"Yes, my la … Zara?"

"Some food. Simple fare: cheese, bread, fruit, and water,
if it's available. She bowed and left. Interesting how the people serving
nobility—or their guest—conducted themselves like Ojaza slaves.
They might not be slaves, but like slaves they were at the bottom of the
hierarchy and dependent upon goodwill.

The food was less but still enough for five hungry Ojaza.
When Melisa returned to check on me, she seemed more relaxed in my company, as
nothing bad had happened.

"Would you have someone inform the Cheyo Monk that I'd
like to see him at his convenience?" I said, feeling ready. I still didn't
like my options but knew the Monk could resolve my conflict. Sometime later,
there was a knock at the door and Minister Niver entered.

"Zara, if you will follow me, I will take you to the Monk.
He's in his room," he said, and I followed him out the door and down
several hallways. He stopped and knocked at a door at the end of one hallway,
waited for acknowledgement, opened it, and stood aside for me to enter.

The room was dimly lit and almost bare except for a mat, one
dresser, and several rugs. He sat in the center of an octagonal white rug that
was embroidered with black symbols at the edge of each section.

"Sit, Zara," he said, and waited for me to fold
into a sitting position facing him. "How may I help you?"

"I don't know. I don't want to offend Duke Wetzel, but
how can I survive against people who can get into my mind?" I said, not sure
if I was looking for a compelling reason to gracefully refuse the duke's offer
or to understand how I could survive if I had to accept his offer.

"If you were a mercenary or a soldier or a trusted
friend of the duke, I would say you couldn't. These are not Cheyo Monks, but
they did attend the Trasslat Monastery and have varying degrees of talent. From
the rumors I hear, a few are very talented. But the Ojaza have given you a
gift—"

"A gift?" I blurted. "You mean training me to
fight? That wasn't a gift. It was entertainment for the tribe, while they
taught the uppity slave her place, or crippled her, or killed her."