Zara the Wolf Read online

  "Enough for now. Except for your Ojaza gift, it would take several years to get a student to your present state of awareness. But that isn't enough. As you know from sword fighting, if you only defend yourself and do not counterattack, you will eventually lose." He smiled. "Tonight at midnight."

  * * *

  "Close your eyes, Wolf. You will not need them for what comes next. In fact, your eyes will distract you from seeing what the Siren is doing," he said, beginning our session. I did close them, but it took a long time for me to quiet my mind, as I didn't know what to expect. Then the room became bathed in a blue light. The Monk sat naked on a large rock in the middle of a stream; I sat among wild grass. Then a man appeared in armor, drawing his sword as he strode toward me. As I thought about rising to defend myself, an image of me rose, drawing my sword. We fought; I won with several quick strokes to legs, stomach, and neck and the image disappeared.

  "Very good. If you see multiple images, you need to find the one he considers himself. Attack!" he said, and another soldier appeared and another and another. I fought my way to him. "Good. That was easy for you because you know how to use a sword." Instantly, a large mountain cat charged me. Instinctively, I created an image of a wolf. "Excellent!" Again the session lasted until sunrise, and I exited feeling more exhausted than my most grueling training day with the Ojaza. Each day, Melisa brought us dinner and I learned more about castle life and a few interesting stories about the resident nobility. The routine continued day after day until I lost track of time.

  A knock at my door interrupted my morning quiet time when I reviewed the previous session with the Monk.

  "Mistress Zara, Lady Shelly wishes to speak with you," Melisa said, peeking through the partially open door. I rose, pleased to see her but confused as to her presence. "Show her in, Melisa."

  Shelly entered smiling and to my surprise gave me a hug and kiss on both cheeks. "No, I didn't bring my uncle," she gave me a mischievous laugh. "The duke invited me. I've been here two days. I would've stopped in sooner, but the duke said you couldn't be disturbed."

  "Lady Shelly, you look … recovered," I said still, trying to deduce why the duke had invited Shelly. I doubted it was a coincidence.

  "It was an unpleasant experience but one I'm glad I had," she giggled. "But don't tell anyone that. I've learned what it feels like to be powerless; I've learned what it means to live someone else's life; and I got to meet you. You've shown me my time with the Sheqn can be a tragedy to suffer all my life or a useful learning experience. It's opened my eyes, and I feel I've matured well beyond my years."

  "Does the duke know you're here visiting me?" I asked, hoping she wasn't defying his wishes.

  "Oh, yes. He sent me to get you." She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. I quieted my mind as we walked, enjoying seeing Shelly well and happy and thanks to the Monk's training, content not to anticipate what was to come. As we approached the duke's office, one of the guards opened the door for us to enter.

  "Well, Zara. You look much better than the last time I saw you. Sit." He waved toward the three chairs that had been arranged around a small table, loaded with cheeses, breads, sweets, and a variety of drinks.

  "Thank you, Your Grace," I said and bowed to the Monk sitting off to the side against the wall. "I feel much better."

  "Since you haven't run off, I assume you are at least considering my offer," Wetzel said, taking a sip of wine as he watched me. I nodded, realizing the truth of what he said. "My Monk tells me you have the ability to defend yourself against a Siren based upon what we currently know. Lady Shelly has agreed to provide you a cover story, without any coercion on my part, I may add. You would be her escort to visit Duke Phipps in Kariso. She and you will have letters from me—Shelly as being under my protection, and you, Zara, as responsible for her safety. That will ensure you can stay close to her at all times. And lastly, I will be disappointed if you refuse my offer, but I give you my word I will not hold it against you. What I'm asking has great risk … " He smiled. "And great rewards, in addition to my gratitude."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The decision

  I knew the sessions with the Monk had certainly helped, since I should be panicking but I had managed to stay relatively calm and to quickly quiet my thoughts. I believed the duke when he said he wouldn't take any action against me, which meant refusing his offer was a real option. So the real question was whether his offer helped me find my place in … civilization. I would never be a noble, so did mixing with them help me? On the other hand, nobles were a ubiquitous part of life in civilization and understanding them might. And what if the Sirens came to rule? How would that affect me versus the status quo? Both wanted the same thing—power. Maybe my place in civilization was helping others: Ethel, the Manola community, Raigosa, Shelly, the duke. I would never know those answers unless I accepted.

  "I accept, Your Grace."

  "Thank you, Zara," Wetzel said with visual relief and turned to Shelly. "As nobility, you must be seen as in charge—"

  "But Zara is in charge." She nodded to the duke. "I trust her with my life, or I wouldn't be going along." She grinned. "She may still be learning our ways, but she's shrewd like the wolf she is named after. I expect she is going to teach me to be a duchess."

  The duke laughed and turned toward the Monk.

  "They are well matched and will make a good team," the Monk said quietly.

  * * *

  The next week was a blur of activity. The duke chose eleven of his royal guard to accompany Lady Shelly's caravan: a lieutenant, two sergeants, and eight corporals, all with years of service.

  "For this mission, Zara is Lady Shelly's personal escort and in charge of her security. You will follow Zara's orders without question," Wetzel said to the assembled eight men and three women. "Zara?"

  "Our responsibility is Lady Shelly's safety first and foremost. Your own safety secondarily, and the caravan a distant third," I said by way of clarification.

  "Our safety?" the lieutenant asked, frowning. He was tall, muscular, and looked to be in his thirties and to have seen action, judging by the scar that ran from his forehead to his right ear.

  "Yes, dead heroes make poor guards. We can discuss it more later, but I expect you to fight smart. That means remembering your objective is to protect Lady Shelly, not to be a martyr." I felt encouraged at seeing several nods of agreement.

  A cook, four men to manage the mules, and two ladies in waiting completed the caravan's compliment. While the caravan was being assembled, I was sent to the dressmaker's for the clothes I would need to accompany Shelly at various functions.

  Shelly and I negotiated over each article: she attempting to dress me properly for each occasion, while I attempted to maintain my image or rather avoid being made into something I wasn't. I think we arrived at reasonable compromises since neither of us was happy. The outfits were a blend of male and female wear, silk and leather, beautifully made and expensive—like an eccentric noble or a flamboyant mercenary.

  The morning we were to leave, the duke summoned Shelly, Lieutenant Eaton, and me to his office.

  "Lieutenant Eaton, you are in charge of the troopers and responsible for protecting Lady Shelly, the caravan, and the servants; however, you will defer to Zara on all matters. I know that is unusual, but this trip is not about Lady Shelly visiting Duke Phipps. Zara is on a mission for me. That information is for you only. Is that understood, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, Your Grace. What about protecting her?" he asked.

  Wetzel turned toward me.

  "I will help you and your men if trouble arises, and I would expect the same from you, but only if protecting me does not jeopardize Lady Shelly. You must think and act as if Lady Shelly is the only reason you and I are along," I said.

  After a minute, Eaton nodded.

  "Lieutenant Eaton, meet Zara the Wolf. She managed to single-handedly free me from two hundred Sheqn Indians. I trust her." Shelly smiled at me.

  "I do
also," the duke said into the silence. "Shelly, this letter explains the trip to Kariso and authorizes you to commit money or services in my name for your needs. That will indirectly establish your importance and earn you special treatment." He handed the parchment to Shelly. "And this letter, Zara, will acknowledge you as my hand-picked companion for Lady Shelly. That should give you unrestricted access to her and the nobility."

  "Thank you, Your Grace. You have been very patient and generous." I bowed. He could have ordered me to do his bidding, but he hadn't. He had made his Monk available, waited while I debated the issues, and was gambling his reputation on me—maybe his life.

  In the courtyard, we mounted our horses and Shelly gave the lieutenant a nod to start the caravan moving. The ride through the city was made at a walk, and the citizens paid us little notice—just some noble going someplace. I waited until we had left the city gates to talk. I doubted anyone on the streets would have heard our conversation or cared but best to be overly cautious.

  "Well, Lady Shelly, have you worked out our itinerary?" I asked, interested now that I had made the decision and we were on our way.

  "Actually, the duke made our itinerary. He wanted us to visit specific places on our way to Kariso. Salman on the Black River is our first stop. It's a six-day trip inland. Earl Pelote is the ruling noble, in service to Duke Wetzel."

  "It's rugged country ripe for bands of thieves and close to the Vulture Mountains, which has Indian tribes who occasionally raid the smaller communities. As a result, the earl maintains a larger than normal military garrison," Eaton said.

  Interesting, I mused. The duke had included a lieutenant to command ten men when a senior sergeant would have been sufficient. I wondered if he hadn't given him and Lady Shelly special instructions. Were we each told to go and look for something different: the lieutenant among the military, Shelly among the nobility, and me the Sirens? If so, I'd wager the duke hadn't shared that information.

  "I understand you lived among the Indians in the Black Mountains," Eaton said as he sat down next to me that evening as we gathered around the campfire.

  "Yes, the Ojaza."

  "I heard rumors that you are very good with that sword, and you saved the Raigosa caravan from a band of mercenaries."

  "I disrupted their sneak attack," I said, hoping this wasn't leading to a challenge.

  "I heard it was more than just disrupted, and you claim the savages are better trained than our soldiers," Eaton's voice dripped with scorn. I needed the lieutenant as an ally if we were going to succeed at whatever the duke had planned, and therefore chose not to defend myself directly.

  "What do you think, Lady Shelly? You spent a year with the savages." I hoped he would take her assessment better than mine.

  "Much better. Any six-year-old savage can use a bow and hit the target. At ten, they are given a sword and begin training. Black and blue bruises are common, even deaths," she said, eyes downcast as if reliving the scenes.

  "What makes them so dangerous to the average sword fighter is their approach. We are used to matches; one-on-one contests where there are rules. They are trained for clashes where the object is to wound or cripple, knowing the next warrior will finish the kill," I added.

  "That doesn't sound ... effective." he said hesitantly.

  "Even against equal numbers, it is." I said. "The frenzy of the attack freezes the opponents. They charge, slash at you, wounding or killing you, and keep on going to the next person. But it is even more effective when your opponent outnumbers you. Imagine twenty mercenaries are attacking us. If you meet each in a match, then soon it will be two or three to one, and you'll lose. However, if you charge each person in a one or two-stroke clash and continue on, you can't be tied up and the person behind you will likely encounter a wounded or dazed opponent and have an easier kill."

  "Like a cavalry charge without the horses." He laughed. "I see what you meant when you said you disrupted the mercenaries, and it makes sense of the rumors I heard."

  "It may be something to consider, Lieutenant Eaton. It's going to be a long way to Kariso, and if we are attacked by a large group of mercenaries or Indians ... " Shelly left the consequences to his imagination. She was a smart girl, understanding the lieutenant would be much more amenable to suggestions from her than me.

  "Alright, I'm interested. Would you mind a demonstration, Zara?"

  "No," I said.

  Eaton picked his best fighters, two sergeants and a corporal, and stationed them about twenty steps apart as I had with the troopers at the Manola compound. I was sure they’d keep their swords readily available—unsheathed.

  I walked about forty steps away and lay hidden behind a clump of bushes.

  I waited for well over an hour and then jumped to my feet, screaming an Ojaza war cry. I raced toward the nearest, Sergeant Dagan. As I suspected, he had been lying with his sword in hand. I’d only run a few paces when he stumbled to his feet, but his sword tangled in his bedroll. He fumbled it free and swung at my head as I reached him. I dodged and slashed his belly as I ran past. The second sergeant was up with his sword ready as I ran at him. I caught his blade on mine and forced his blade high. I jerked my blade free and slashed his arm.

  The corporal stood frozen as I charged, screaming. He managed a weak block to my downward slice at his neck. We locked sword hilts. I punched his belly with the pommel of my knife. He doubled over, heaving.

  I strolled back to where Eaton and Shelly were standing, with the three troopers following.

  "Damn, you're fast," Sergeant Dagan said, rubbing his stomach.

  "And scary," Corporal Fagin said, holding his stomach in obvious pain.

  "She's right, Lieutenant. I was expecting a duel when she arrived, but she was past me before I could recover from the initial contact. It wasn't a fatal cut, but I wouldn't have been ready for another one coming behind her." Sergeant Buzza ruefully rubbed his arm.

  "That was impressive, Zara. I'll admit I didn't believe you and agreed to the demonstration only to embarrass you." He gave a wry smile. "Could you teach us?"

  "Yes, with some practice. It is more of an approach than a special technique. While you are attacking an opponent, you have to know that Sergeant Dagan or Corporal Fagin is running behind you and will finish your opponent if you don't. You are a team, not individuals." We talked for several hours, and I felt a little more accepted by the time we retired for the night.

  When we reached our bedrolls, Shelly whispered, "How does your demonstration help me?" She smiled. "My job is to convince everyone I'm on my way to Kariso to visit Duke Phipps for reasons of my own, and that you are my chaperone and security. The duke also wants me to evaluate the nobility while I'm providing you a cover story. And I want you to mentor me. So, how is your demonstration applicable to me?" She gave a soft laugh while I lay speechless.

  "Mentor you, Lady Shelly? I'm still working on becoming civilized."

  "I've spent time with you. You see people for what they are, and that helps you deal with them realistically—like the tribes, the soldiers, warrior Ohnee, my uncle. The nobility see the Indians as savages and stupid. You see them as people, ignorant in our ways but smart in their own way. I want you to help me do the same." She smiled. "And it's Shelly when we are alone."

  "I'll try, Shelly." I didn't know if she was right or not, but maybe just hearing a simple slave turned commoner's perspective of life would be helpful to a noble.

  "The savages' real advantage is our ignorance. We assume we are better fighters, that we are smarter than them, and that they are cowards because they raid small settlements. We judge them against our standards: they can't read or write, can't make fine clothes, don't have permanent houses, don't farm, and on and on. But they are hunters and nomads who have no need for those things. And raiding is just another form of hunting. We ignore the fact we don't have the knowledge to survive in their environment. They consider us ignorant," I said, thinking it obvious but knowing it wasn't to most people, especially the n
obility and soldiers.

  Shelly laughed. "Like my uncle, who wanted to send sixty soldiers to kill the savages and free me." She shook her head. "He would have gotten me and the soldiers killed. He would never have thought of trading a mule and swords for me, or that they had honor."

  "So I guess the lesson is: the better you know your opponent, the better prepared you are to succeed. And surprise gives you an advantage. Do you carry a knife, Shelly?" I asked

  "No. I can, but why would I? There are guards ... "

  "A precaution. You are spying for the duke. You may discover things worth killing for." I shrugged. "If you carried one openly, it would be of little value since you weren't trained to use one. But if you carried it hidden, you would have the element of surprise, which could be better than knowing how to use one against a trained fighter."

  * * *

  For the next few nights, I worked with Eaton and his troops. After we had finished, he waited until Lady Shelly had joined us around the campfire to speak.

  "What you've shown us is very interesting, but who will protect Lady Shelly as we go charging off like crazed savages?" His smile was more of a sneer. It had been obvious that he resented me for any one of several reasons: Shelly's interest in me, the duke putting me in charge, that I lived with the savages, or ...

  "Lieutenant Eaton, I have no interest in directing your troops or telling you how to deploy them. I've merely shown you how the savages fight so that if we encounter any, you'll be better prepared. I'm sure Duke Wetzel selected his top lieutenant to guard Lady Shelly and her caravan." I didn't need tension among the troops.

  "The duke said you were in charge!"

  "I don't think he meant to imply that. This is Lady Shelly's caravan, and she is in charge. The duke asked each of us to look at something in our area of expertise and hoped we would work together to ensure he got what he wanted from each of us."