Magistrate of the Dark Land

Part Nine

by G. Lawrence

The Battle of Trodden Castle

This is a fantasy novel providing high adventure and romance, but there are no dragons or wizards. There may be unexplainable occurrences. All characters are over 18 years old.

Recap; to protect a small village from bounty hunters, Owen offered to accept blood challenge from Rotanna.

* * * * * *

Chapter Ten

SWORDS AT SUNRISE

I was awake much of the night sitting near the river outside the castle wall. Melancholy thoughts plagued me, for it seemed nothing had gone as I wished. From the beginning I had thought Rotanna would change her mind, or that I would find an alternative to the challenge. I had been wrong. Stars moved overhead and I counted several of them falling to earth. Never a good sign. The moon appeared in half splendor before disappearing behind angry clouds.

As I rose to go back, I found purple sage growing in a patch near the path. The first good omen I'd had in days. I picked the sprigs and made two small bundles, smelling the fragrance of ages past. The sun rose sooner than I hoped, a blazing red ball in a dark painted sky. I went to the lieutenant's lodging where Jalana and I had spread our furs, finding her already dressed. We had spent a final night together, though I had begged off having sex, pretending weariness of the long trail since Kannae.

"Run into the woods where she can't find you," Jalana urged, sitting cross-legged on our bed.

"You know I can't, much as I'd wish to."

"I would rather see you a living coward than a dead fool."

"Me, too, but I gave oath on the souls of my children. How can I run away from them?"

"What are those?" she asked, seeing the sprigs in my hand. I sat down next to her.

"Sage. It rarely grows this far north, yet there was a field not far from the home Martha and I had in Freehold. When Leila and Little Sam were born, we decorated their cribs with it."

"It hurts to speak of your children, doesn't it?"

"They died so young. I still hear their shouts of excitement. The joy in their eyes. The smiles when I gave them treats. The endless questions they asked as they sought to understand the world. And now they're gone, and all I've done ever since is run away."

"You've helped many people. That's not running away," Jalana disagreed.

"I feel like I've been running away, and now on the morning I should be, I can't. Perhaps it's unwise, attempting to escape our destiny."

"What destiny do you flee from?" she asked.

Visions of my darkest nightmares appeared. Trapped. Struggling against an unmerciful enemy. Falling down and down and down into a deep, unrelenting hell.

"Owen, you're shaking," Jalana said, taking my trembling hands. "You should not be doing this. Let me fight Rotanna for you."

"I didn't bring Rotanna out of Kannae to fight her sisters. She needs your love now. Your bonds of clan are her salvation."

"She's going to kill you and you worry of her salvation? Is this another of your god's cruel jokes?" she angrily argued.

"Maybe it is," I half agreed.

The light of the sunrise appeared through a gap of missing wall. I held Jalana's hand until the last moment before watching her go up the staircase where her sisters waited on the south rampart. Rotanna appeared in hunting leather armed with sword and dagger. We walked out to the courtyard where a soft wind blew through the parted stones. Rotanna took a position between me and the gate, no doubt thinking I might flee. It was certainly a worthwhile possibility, but I still hoped she might reconsider once the weakness of my skills became apparent. I spied a rock just to the right of our battleground and placed the bundles of sage where I could see them, kneeling as I did so.

"What are you about? Praying?" Rotanna asked, her sword drawn.

"I say a prayer for my children," I told her.

"Make it a good prayer for you will never see them again," she answered, though I suspected I might see them far sooner than she expected. I stepped back and drew my sword. Above us, Jalana and her sisters watched from the catwalk, hands on the swords they were forbidden by forest law to draw.

"I don't suppose an apology will suffice?" I asked.

"Apologize all you want. Soon you will be begging."

I took that as a no.

"Come forward, male. I give you first charge," she offered.

"I promised to meet your blood challenge. I never promised to hurt you," I responded, looking in her eyes for clues. But nothing had changed. Hatred burned so hot that it would destroy her if not vented.

"Think not to use coward's tricks. My blade hungers for your blood whether you fight or not."

She charged at me with sword held high. I stepped up and blocked the blow, dropped my sword low to block a side swing, then raised it to chest height blocking still another. Her fighting style was much like Jalana's. Being taller and stronger, I grew hopeful that if she tired, I might get close enough to take the sword away from her. We exchanged blows several more times, stepping and side-stepping, the rhythm increasing as I tried to stay ahead of her attack. Soon it was I who began tiring, the pain in my side slowing my reactions.

"Don't seek to deceive me. You do but play, but soon I will do the playing," Rotanna taunted.

She rushed again, her sword flashing in rapid twists, and again I blocked her attack. Or so I thought. When she stepped back, I discovered a painful gash on my sword arm from elbow to wrist. Blood was flowing down into my hand. I raised my arm so the sword hilt wouldn't get slippery.

The next exchange grew worse. She maneuvered around to my left with quick jabs and slashes, eventually backing me against the keep. My left arm gained a cut below the elbow. Blood was leaking from gashes in both thighs. Continuing her turn, she slipped a thrust to the back of my right leg, cutting the calf muscle. I went down hard, rolling to get away.

"Hah! Now we see who plays," Rotanna boasted, closing in as I tried to get up.

She swung from the waist at my throat, missing by inches, then drove down along my right side, ripping flesh from waist to knee. I backed up blindly swinging my sword. She stepped inward, cutting me across the midsection. I stumbled backward to avoid the next series, catching my balance against the brick well in the middle of the courtyard. Rotanna paused to gather her wind.

"I expected more. Will you not face me honestly? Several times I have dropped my guard," Rotanna mentioned.

I made no answer, doing my best to breathe. Blood was running everywhere. The wounds were shallow. Superficial. Teasing. I looked up at Jalana, whose face was stricken. Her sisters seemed equally distressed. I was glad not to have revealed my true feelings for Jalana, for I would not see her hurt more than necessary. Rotanna was soon ready to resume the offense and I realized there was nothing I could do to stop her. My hands quivered from the shock of the attack. My shoulders shuddered as I saw death approaching in Rotanna's unforgiving eyes. She saw my fear for what it was and laughed.

She was on me again like a lioness, jabbing with precision, turning aside my efforts to block her sword and then slashing, but never deep enough to kill. She seemed more intent on bleeding me than reaching a quick end. Then she twirled and thrust low between my legs, barely missing vital body parts.

"Now I will witness your humiliation, as you witnessed mine," she declared.

Rotanna jumped forward, blade up, and as I rose to defend, she spun around and kicked me in the old wound received at Wagon Bridge. My insides exploded, my lungs lost air, and I dropped to my knees. Rotanna stepped on my sword and drew her dagger, cutting through my shirt, and then my pants, leaving me lying half-naked in the red-soaked courtyard. At last, her knife went to my throat. I could have let her finish it, but I wasn't thinking. Nothing but blinding pain filled my thoughts. As I clutched the wound, Rotanna kicked the sword to my knees.

"Get up and fight!" she demanded in frustration.

"Rotanna, that's enough!" Jalana shouted from the catwalk. "The man has no fight left in him. Have you no honor?"

"Blood challenge I was promised and blood I will have. You may have sympathy for this beast, I do not. Rise, male, or be dismembered where you lie."

To emphasize her point, she stood over me with the sword poised dangerously low. I tucked my knees together and struggled to stand. Rotanna backed away and set herself.

"Do not think any part of you will escape my wrath. Your death will be slow. Much will you beg for mercy that I will not give," she hissed.

I had known from the beginning the hurt Rotanna felt, her desire for revenge of any kind, and realized how naïve I had been to think myself immune. Fear of dying was now replaced by a far greater fear, as if all my worst nightmares were suddenly materializing. Not merely was I to die, but die in humiliation, sliced asunder as I groveled at her feet. I reached to pick up the sword, but my hands shook so badly I couldn't raise it. Blood filled the crevices of my palms and drained through my fingers. I rubbed my hands in the sand to find a grip, but the sword felt heavy.

"Owen, stay down. She won't slay you on your knees," Cathe urged.

"You're a fool if you think that. There will be no coward's escape this day," Rotanna grunted in defiance.

"Face me with a sword, you vicious sow! We'll see who the coward is," Obina challenged, leaning over the railing with a clenched fist.

"No. No, sister, you must not," I said as loud as my voice would carry.

I crawled back against the covered well seeking a way to get up. I held the sword though it wobbled at my side. I looked at the purple sprigs of sage that had blown from their perch and now lay in my blood on the battlefield. To live in cowardly fear does not mean one wants to die as a coward. Nor did I wish to be mutilated, crying for mercy as Jalana watched. Had I a dagger, I might have used it to escape the terror ripping me like sharp talons. Yet I had nothing but an unwieldy sword and arms too weak to swing it. And a faith that forbade such an act.

There was but one hope, to charge Rotanna with enough threat that she'd be forced to slay me in self-defense. Did I have the courage to seek a quick death? Did I have the courage not to? In that final moment, so much of my existence seemed a waste. So much left undone and unsaid. My spirit was faltering, the sickness of heart worse than all the wounds inflicted by Rotanna, for I finally realized how deeply I had squandered life's precious gifts. My family was dead. My kingdom had become a slaughterhouse. The lost daughters were given to a horrifying fate. And what was I but a cowardly drunk? What service had I shown God? Surely this was my punishment, and justly deserved.

I raised the sword with both hands and rushed at Rotanna before my resolve could disappear, half stepping and half stumbling. My charge took her by surprise and she retreated. I swung at her head. She ducked aside and stuck out her leg to trip me, thrusting a quick jabbing blow below my ribs as I fell. It was the same spot as before, still another wound that gushed blood as I landed roughly on my side. My wind was gone, the sword fallen away. The pain was so great it was impossible to think. I reached out, grasping at nothing. Rotanna knelt over me, leaning on her sword. Her other hand held a dagger. She had finally gotten what she wanted, a male dying at her feet. She chuckled in satisfaction.

"You fight like a child. You are no warrior," she said.

"At last we agree," I groaned.

"Will you now beg?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And what do you beg for?"

"Death," I whispered, praying she would grant my wish. Terrified she would not.

"Beg louder! Beg so all may hear!" she shouted, poking me with the dagger.

"I beg death," I said, curling up in a ball with my face shamefully pressed to the sand.

"Why should I be so generous?" Rotanna asked.

"By the Dread Goddess, Rotanna, stop!" Cathe screamed from the catwalk. "If not for his sake, then for yours. You will never call yourself a warrior after today. Never again a sister. You are but a butcher. No better than those who took you."

Jalana said nothing, she had sunk to her knees holding the railing, staring at me in anguish.

"What would you know of being taken? Of the degradation. The dishonor. To know yourself helpless with even your screams for naught," Rotanna cried out.

"And now you are one of them," Yana said, her voice cold.

I tried to crawl through the pools of blood as they bickered. Their words meant nothing to me. I knew now why my side had hurt. The old wound had been torn again at Kannae. Grown infected. It explained the pain, and the fever. I was a dead man regardless of what Rotanna did. Inch by inch, I dragged myself across the courtyard, desperately reaching out, my fingers straining. Rotanna followed.

"What? You think to take up the sword once more?" Rotanna sneered, hovering over me. "Perhaps I will let you die with a weapon in your hand, though it's more than you deserve."

But I did not grasp the sword. I reached past it to the purple sprigs of sage lying in spotted crimson and drew them to my face. Tears ran down my cheeks as I breathed the scent, feeling my lost children in the softness of the petals. I knew no more terror. No more cares. I let out my breath slowly.

"I said you will never see your children again! Take up the sword! Take it up! Take it up, damn you!" Rotanna screamed.

"Rotanna, his children are dead. They died years ago," Cathe said.

There was more talking, but I didn't hear it. My life's blood poured into the sand as aching memories drained my soul.

* * * * * *

I stood on a riverbank. The water was turbulent, churning as if tossed by a storm. Blue skies shone on the far shore, but my side was overcast, chilled by a north wind. A drizzle began, my toes sticking in the festering mud. I wore nothing, exposed to the weather and the world. I shook from the cold. A vision appeared to my left. Two women in their late-teens, eyes filled with pain, long white dresses streaked in blood. They looked at me in hurt. Betrayal.

"You did not come for us," the older said. "We waited and waited. You did not come. Now it's too late."

"Why, Magistrate? Were we not good enough? Not worthy of your attention?" the younger said.

I wanted to answer them. To say they were wrong. That I tried to save them. I could not speak. What solace would my empty words have? They turned and walked down the embankment into the raging water, being quickly swept away.

Blurry images appeared on the far side of the river. A woman carrying a baby, a little girl hugging her leg. They were watching me. Waiting for me to do something. What was I supposed to do?

"Martha? Martha, is that you?" I called out. The woman said nothing. Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Martha, wait. I'll come across."

But the river became a torrent. I saw dead bodies floating down stream. Hundreds of men, women, and children. The carcasses of horses and cows. Strange creatures I didn't recognize. The more I tried to enter the water, the faster it flowed.

"Martha!" I yelled.

The woman's face turned gray. She walked to the embankment and threw the baby in the river. Then the little girl. She stood to watch my reaction before walking away, gradually being engulfed by a fog.

The sun burst from the clouds, hot rays suddenly beating down on me. The ground turned brown and brittle. My skin burned from the heat but there was no shelter, not even the barest hint of shade. I went to jump in the river but the embankment had grown into a tall, jagged cliff. I became dizzy looking down into the chasm. I felt like I should jump but was afraid.

"Cowardly male," the woman said.

I turned. Jalana stood behind me wearing her war leather. She was staring at me with contempt, arms crossed before her. She dropped a hand to the hilt of her sword, offering challenge.

"It wasn't my fault," I said.

"Males always have excuses. Your excuses are the worst. I should have cut your throat," she said, advancing toward me.

"Not you, too," I moaned, backing up toward the cliff. Jalana drew her sword, the tip pointed at my chest. I dropped to my knees, feet dangling over the ledge.

"Beg for mercy, male. It's all you're good for."

"Jalana, don't," I cried as the sword bit my flesh. I backed up perilously close to the precipice, unable to go further.

"Tell me," she said.

"Tell you what?"

"Say it."

"I can't. You know why I can't."

"A worthless coward to the end. I will find a man worthy of my furs," she said, shoving the blade at me. I leaned back and fell, tumbling over and over and over into the river hundreds of miles below.

"No. No. No," I whimpered.

* * * * * *

"Owen," Jalana said, shaking me awake.

I was still alive, my body soaked in sweat buried beneath a pile of furs. We were in the lieutenant's lodging. A fire burned in the hearth.

"Dread Goddess, thank you," Jalana reverently whispered.

No one else was in the room. I was relieved not to be falling anymore, but otherwise forlorn. I had wanted an end.

"You've been feverish for days. Cathe thought you might never wake up," she explained, dabbing my forehead with a damp rag.

I remembered portions of those tormented days, not so much the pain as a murmuring of voices. I had thought of speaking to the voices, asking them to leave me alone, but even this I was unable to do. Some awful heaviness kept dragging me back to the depths where I had no will to swim free. I tried to push the furs off but couldn't move. There was no feeling in my arms or legs. Did I still have arms and legs?

"Your wounds are serious, Owen. Cathe has done all she can. You need food now. We have turkey broth," Jalana said, going to the fire and returning with a bowl.

I closed my eyes hoping she would go away. A spoon was pressed against my lips but my mouth remained closed.

"Eat," Jalana urged, surprised at first when I refused, and then angry.

She tried to force the broth through my lips but it just dribbled over my chin. I turned my head.

Sleep returned, as did the nightmares. A dark cave. No, a cavern. And not dark. Candles around a shrine. Hundreds of candles. And torches. Yet there was still a precipice. A skeleton stood before me with a mocking grin. Taunting me. Why? Want did it want? I have nothing left to give. Nothing worth giving. The black chasms enclose me, steep cliffs all around. The rock beneath my feet grows slick. I'm losing balance, about to fall. There's nothing I can do.

Cathe was sitting next to me when next I opened my eyes, her thin eyebrows bent in worry. The fur was rolled most of the way back, allowing me a glance of what remained. I was stitched together like a badly sewn rag doll. Arms, legs, and torso had been repeatedly slashed. The wound in my side was a ruptured hole leaking yellow puss. Flat on my back, I could not tell if other parts were missing.

"I know it looks bad," Cathe said, sponging me down with soft leather. "We've gotten you to take water and a little soup, but you need more. You continue to weaken."

I looked around the room. A gray sky showed through a crack in the wood beam roof. A light snow had fallen. Winter would be coming soon and the Farina were far from home.

"Have you found Mapps and Fuschia?" I asked, my loudest voice only a whisper.

"No, but they sought a healer for Rotanna at Crowley. It could be another day or two before they arrive."

"The days grow cold. Gather your sisters and leave."

"We cannot leave."

"You have horses and weapons. Farina need no more."

"When your wounds heal we'll take the trail together," Cathe insisted.

"The intestine is ruptured. Food is poison to me now."

"That's not true. I've seen worse," she protested.

"No, you haven't, little sister," I said, forcing her to see the truth.

I struggled to move my arm, reaching for her hand. It was smaller than her sister's, the fingers more delicate.

"You know I travel the long trail. Take Jalana away before nothing but pity remains," I whispered.

Cathe looked down into her bag of herbs and mosses searching for something that would make me well, but I was beyond the healing of the forest. Her dark eyes moistened.

"It's not just the wound. What's happened to you? Why do you surrender?" she asked, squeezing my hand. I could not answer her, but she was right. My spirit had shattered as I groveled at Rotanna's feet. I closed my eyes and said no more.

The following afternoon there was commotion in the castle courtyard. Horses. Voices. Not just female voices. Birds scattered at the approach of riders.

"Dalena, who travels with you?" I heard Obina shout from the gate tower.

"Friends," Dalena answered.

"How fares you, Mapps?" Jalana asked, meeting them on the drawbridge.

"Happy and free, war captain. We bring a healer for the First Sword," Mapps replied, her voice light and musical.

There was a sudden quiet. Even the horses seemed still. I heard hooves enter the courtyard.

"Much is the healer welcome," Cathe said.

"What's wrong? Why is everyone so sad?" another voice asked, one that sounded vaguely familiar.

"Has the Dread Goddess taken the First Sword?" Fuschia asked.

"She claims another," Cathe answered.

"Not Owen? Oh my God, no," the other voice cried.

It was Suzie. I heard a rush toward my small sanctuary. Wishing not to be troubled, I kept my eyes closed pretending sleep.

"My God, Owen, what has happened?" Suzie said, painfully throwing herself on my furs. She pulled the cover back, much to my discomfort, and gawked at my injuries.

"By Satan's Ax," a deep voice growled.

Forced to acknowledge the intruders, I opened my eyes in astonishment. Kaska and young Nilo were standing at my bedside along with a withered old man in long white robes. Kaska kneeled at my side, a death grip on his sword.

"Tell me who did this, friend, and his life is forfeit. By all the gods, I swear it," Kaska said, the eyes in raging anger.

Nilo's face turned green as if he felt sick. The old man pushed Suzie aside and sat down on a stool, peering into my pupils and touching my forehead. Then he took stock of the challenge before him. I looked toward the door to see all but Rotanna watching. The Farina sisters were finally reunited and could now return to their forest. To die with Kaska and Nilo would not be so bad, though I wished Suzie would leave. The doctor probed the festering hole.

"He believes the wound mortal, healer. Is he correct?" Cathe asked.

"It may be," the old man grimly agreed.

"You had best hope it isn't, lest you soon follow," Jalana said, taking the dagger from her belt. All were startled. I was angry. The old man glanced at the blade but a few inches from his throat and returned his attention to me.

"Put the knife away, girl. I've been threatened such before. It will not affect my calling," the physician said. Jalana sheathed her knife. "Nilo, bring my bag. Suzie, we need boiled water and bandages. All you can find. Kaska, I need light. Find lamps and torches. Fuschia, which of your women is best suited to assist?"

"Cathe treats our ills on the trail, healer," Fuschia said.

The old man looked around as Cathe stepped forward. He took her hands, studying the slender fingers, and gazed into her eyes searching for knowledge.

"I am Farnakess, master physician of Crowley. I will have you and my apprentice only. All others must leave. Gather what has been asked for and be swift."

The old man issued orders with the confidence of a baron and was obeyed just as surely. All about ran to fetch the desired items.

"You should not raise false hopes, old one," I whispered, greatly pained by his continued probing. He stuck his index finger through the gap in my flesh and I howled, drawing my legs up. Until then I hadn't been able to move them.

"We will need to bind him. Nilo, find leather. Have Kaska drag heavy beams to the head and foot of the couch," the doctor said.

I really didn't like the sound of that and tried to move back, but there was no place to go. Where I had only annoyance before, I now grew fearful. The more I realized how completely helpless I was, the stronger became the panic.

"Nilo, see how the patient's discharge changes color with the depth," Farnakess said, instructing his novice. "The wound is yet to mortify, but the degrading has begun. Woman, what was your name again?"

"Cathe of the Red Leather," Cathe said, paying close attention.

"What surgery is performed among your people?" Farnakess asked.

"The cutting out of arrow heads. Sewing wounds of sword and spear. Deep splinters and animal bites. We know little of this you call surgery," Cathe said.

"After today you will know more. When the water boils, soak the bandages in soap root. All must scrub their hands until they grow pink. Take the linen from my horse to set the patient on. This, too, must be boiled clean."

Farnakess opened the bag Nilo had brought in and produced a kit of small delicate scalpels. I remembered my mother saying such tools rarely did more than bring a painful death. That I had been lucky with Thory didn't change anything.

"I will forgo this honor," I said, unable to take my eyes from the sharp blades.

Kaska arrived dragging heavy timber from the gatehouse, Jalana and Obina helping him. They set one near my feet, wedging it against the wall. The other was placed past my head. Nilo arrived with leather restraints.

"I will forgo the honor. Leave me be!" I suddenly shouted.

Kaska and Jalana paused to look at Farnakess, who merely nodded for them to proceed. Limbs moved that had not moved in days as I struggled desperately to escape, but I reached the wall and could go no farther. I felt like screaming. My weak arms flailed at my tormentors. Kaska took hold of my wrists, the doctor grabbing my ankles. Nilo dangled the leather.

"God no. No, no, no," I muttered in despair.

Jalana sat down next to me, her hands on my chest.

"Owen. Owen, you must listen to me. Put aside your fear. Listen with your heart," she said. "There is much love for you here. None would do you harm. You had the courage to stand before Rotanna, now you must have courage again. Trust us. I beg you, Owen. I beg you to trust me. Trust me."

Her searching eyes peered into mine. Her hand stroked my shoulder. She kissed me deep on the lips. I tried to calm my nerves for her sake, yet my limbs continued to tremble. She glanced up at Kaska and Nilo who resumed binding my hands and feet to the timber. Farnakess appeared before me with a white cloth.

"Wring weed will help you sleep for a time. Breathe deeply but slowly," he said, putting the cloth over my nose. I did not try to breathe deeply or slowly, fighting the terrible odor of the thing. The cloth was not removed until all around me grew hazy.

Someone was poking my eyes. I pushed the hand away with a snarl. Darkness lay about the room, though the first signs of a new day were breaking to the east. The leather bindings were gone, heavy furs keeping me warm. Jalana and Cathe sat bundled in the corner as Farnakess hovered over me.

"You are not a weak man," the physician said.

He stuck a finger in my mouth, tempting me to bite it off. The drips of saliva he gathered were studied by candlelight. Cathe and Jalana got up to hear the verdict. Nilo entered, Kaska resting himself against the door frame.

"The fever continues but there is no blood in the mouth or urine. You will need to give him broth at first, then the thicker porridges. Use damp cloth to keep his temperature down. When the fever abates, bring him to Crowley and I will continue treatment," Farnakess instructed.

How the man could prattle on so amazed me. Clearly he wished to raise false hopes and escape the death promised him by Jalana. In this I could not fault him, so I said nothing. Nor did I believe any of what he said. One does not sew up a festering gut wound and walk away like it was nothing but a toothache.

Farnakess closed his bag and left the room looking fatigued. Nilo smiled at me and followed. I was glad to see him pursuing his dream of becoming a doctor. Cathe lit a lamp, brightening the room as Jalana and Kaska gathered close.

"How do you feel, brother?" Kaska asked.

"As one trampled by wild horses. How are you here? Where did Nilo and the butcher come from?" I asked.

Kaska smiled, believing I would not talk so if the pain were too great. In truth, I felt little of anything, the opiates not yet worn off.

"I was traveling south looking for you when I met Suzie and Nilo in Crowley. Suzie had come up from Arbor and seen notices that Nilo was posting around town. I had also seen Nilo's posters and rushed to the clinic, where I met Suzie. But a few minutes later, we heard three savage forest women threatening to burn the town if a doctor was not brought at once," Kaska explained.

"For what reason would you search for me?" I wondered, unable to grasp his story.

"The slave traders are angered that you slew their own and freed so many women. They put a reward on your head. I came with warning for you to flee, yet I see now you may not flee."

This was unhappy news. I feared not for myself, believing my remaining days few, but Jalana and her sisters would not fare well against ravaging hordes of bounty hunters.

"I thank you for the warning, friend. We should all go at once," I pressed.

"You can't be moved for several days. Perhaps more," Cathe responded.

"Yet we must flee," I insisted.

"Magistrate, the healer said you will die on the road," Cathe said.

"And all of you will die if we remain. Do not defy me on this necessity," I commanded, the pain quickly spreading through tensed muscles. Jalana put her hands on my shoulders, pinning me down. I breathed harder in feigned rage, for I merely intended to frighten them.

"I am war captain here. I alone say when we shall go and where. You may not defy me. Foolish man, have no fear. We are well armed. These stones make a strong stockade. Let the slavers come, for none who seek battle shall escape our wrath," Jalana dictated. I rested back realizing my arguments were unheard.

"You are quite the warrior again, little bird. When last I saw you, there was no such confidence," Kaska teased.

"When you last saw me, I was bound for your slavery. Were I not in blood-debt to you, my blade would sing a song through your heart," Jalana responded.

Resentment blazed in Jalana's eyes but her honor would not allow it to bring violence. Kaska lost his grin.

"This blood-debt, do you mean bringing the doctor to help my brother?"

"For what other cause could it be?" Jalana asked.

"I came to help Owen, and for this you owe me nothing. If it's swords you'll have, I stand ready, for it's your right to make the challenge. Yet I ask one favor first," Kaska said, his brow earnestly bent.

"You were not so unkind as some others. What is this favor?" Jalana asked, arms crossed and a frown wrinkling her forehead.

"Allow me to stand with you in defense of the Magistrate," Kaska requested.

Jalana appeared surprised. Cathe was shocked. I was displeased that he took such liberty invoking my name, though knowing Kaska would guard Jalana and her women gave me comfort.

"Have a care, Black Axe, to know what you ask. If you stand with us, my sword will protect you from enemies, but there will be no protection from my sisters," Jalana warned. Kaska glanced over at Cathe, who blushed.

"I traveled four days with Dalena, Fuschia and Mapps. Well do I know the danger posed by savage Farina," Kaska said, trying not to smile.

"Let it be as you ask, but call me little bird again and your tongue will hang from my lance," Jalana grumbled, going to find Farnakess. Cathe studied Kaska again before following. Kaska sat next to me with a flask of water, some of which I allowed to splash my lips.

"Kaska, we have been friends, but I'm not of your guild, nor a warrior. When did I become your brother?" I asked.

"When you fell in with eight beautiful women," he said with a laugh.

Suzie returned with warm broth, sitting with a smile.

"Later," I said, declining to eat.

"Not too much later," she agreed, setting the broth aside. "Golan and I got all the captives to Arbor, Owen. They were taken in by the town without question. Many are already returned to their families."

"The journal?"

"Submitted to the town fathers. They didn't talk much of it. Not to me. But Captain Toban mobilized the militia, and all the roads are watched."

"I want you to return as soon as possible," I urged.

"We'll return together," she said.

"No, I won't be going anywhere for quite a while."

"Then I'll wait."

"It's too dangerous. If bounty hunters come, the Farina can't have you underfoot. You need to be in Arbor carrying on my work."

Suzie frowned, unsure what to do. I reached to take her hand. Her fingers were swollen.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I went after that foul bitch who hurt you. Rotanna. Almost broke my knuckles on her face," she said, flexing her hands. "I hit her half a dozen times but the coward refused to fight back. She said I was unworthy. Kaska pulled me away."

"Don't start fights with forest women, it can only end unpleasantly," I recommended.

"I'm not afraid of them," Suzie said.

"You're a brave girl, but I have enough trouble."

"I might have to fight Jalana," Suzie confessed.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's personal," she said.

"Has she threatened you?"

"No, she's been nice to me. Too nice. I'm not letting her get away with it," Suzie insisted with a frown, again clutching her fists.

I didn't understand and decided not to try.

A day went by and I did not die. Much to my surprise, I actually seemed to improve even though I ate as little as possible. Jalana was very displeased that my spirits refused to rally as my body would. Jalana even asked Kaska to force feed me, but this he declined.

Farnakess returned to Crowley, his services needed. Nilo and Suzie went with him, forced by Jalana who wanted none but warriors about should there be trouble. In this I heartily agreed. No sign was yet seen of bounty hunters, but all remained alert. Even Rotanna was occasionally seen on the rampart, though she refused to come anywhere near the room where I lay. Why she had walked away from the blood challenge rather than slay me was still a mystery.

I woke from an afternoon nap to find Jalana kneeling on the floor next to me with her head lying against my arm. I reached to stroke her hair. Her head came up and I saw tears. She was tired, her nerves frayed. She needed food more than I did.

"Your sisters must not see you in such a state," I said.

"I would not be in such a state if you wanted to live. Why don't you want to live?"

I couldn't answer her. The feelings were all confused. When I tried to move my arms or legs, I felt nothing but lead in the muscles. Little did I envision being able to walk again or use a bow. Even scribbling in a journal was beyond my imagination. In my dreams, I still saw a dark spirit hovering over me as pieces of my soul were stripped off. I felt the love of those lost walking away from me. And something even deeper whispered that Jalana would one day see me for my true self.

"Would you rather speak of it to Kaska, as men will do? He should return from hunting soon."

"Hunting? After what your women are doing to him, how does he manage to walk?" I asked. Jalana threw back her head and laughed, a sparkle appearing in her lovely dark eyes.

"Maybe I'm too easy with you. A Farina would be made to eat, and punished greatly if she refused. Is it punishment you desire?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, nor was I inclined to obey. Had I died, they would already be on the road south, safe from harm. I could not bear the thought of them risking danger for me. My guilt lay deep enough already. Cathe entered with another bowl of turkey broth. Jalana stood up to let her have the stool. A spoon was produced.

"This is better than the last. You'll like it," Cathe promised.

"No thank you," I said, turning my head away.

"The old healer said you must eat. Eat," Cathe said, losing patience.

"Owen, I order you to eat," Jalana said, equally displeased.

But I cared not for their petulance. Force feeding had not worked, and what else could they do? Cut me with their daggers? Cathe sat with the bowl in her lap. Jalana glared at me, reaching a sudden resolution.

"You act like a child. Your stubbornness deserves punishment, and I know what that punishment will be."

Jalana took hold of the furs, and before I realized what she was doing, tore them off the platform, leaving me with nothing to cover myself.

"Jalana, don't," I said in a whispered groan, trying to take the furs back. But I couldn't even sit up, let alone reach so far away. Jalana threw the furs near the door to emphasize how little say I had in her decision. What slight blood remained in my body flushed my cheeks, my hands pathetically seeking to provide modesty. Jalana slapped my hands away.

"The hands will stay at your side or I'll tie them there," Jalana said, growing even angrier. "You can have the furs back when you're strong enough to pick them up and not before."

Jalana stormed from the room. Cathe looked embarrassed but made no effort to retrieve the furs, raising the bowl of broth instead. I shook my head at the same moment I felt a chill. It was going to be an uncomfortable night.

"Does Rotanna once again sit with her sisters?" I asked

"No. She broods and spends her time hunting when not standing guard."

"Bring her back into your circle. Do not wait."

"How can you say that after what she did? She dishonored us all."

"There is no dishonor. I knew Rotanna was consumed with hate and thought to overcome it, but I made a poor decision. That it went so far is my fault."

"You have paid a heavy price for this poor decision," Cathe said, not the least bit convinced.

"Then let the price be mine and not your cousin's," I begged, taking her hand.

"Is this another of your cruel god's commands? To forgive that which can never be forgiven?" she asked.

"Our Lord makes hard rules, but for us to achieve everlasting grace, we are asked to surrender the hatreds of this world. I must look to my soul now. Justice will come to Rotanna in God's own time. If she is to have redemption, it must be through the love of her sisters."

There was a noise that startled us both. I looked up as Cathe turned. Rotanna was standing in the doorway, her face a burning scowl. Cathe stood up to protect me as Rotanna entered.

"Why is this male left naked when all know the shame he feels?" Rotanna growled, her fists clenched.

"He refuses to eat. Jalana punishes him," Cathe said.

"Leave us," Rotanna ordered. Cathe resisted the command, staying close. Rotanna's eyebrows bent deeply. "I am still First Sword of the Red Leather. You will obey."

Unsure, Cathe slowly moved toward the door looking for Jalana. Rotanna took the bowl of broth from Cathe's hand and pushed her outside, swinging the heavy door closed. She turned back toward me, setting the bowl on the stool. It need not be said I was frightened, but being so weak, I had no energy for terror. If she wished to finish that which she started, I could only hope it would be quick. I held my breath, waiting as her eyes searched me from head to foot with pent up fury. Then she picked up the furs and covered me.

"There has been enough punishment," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I let out some of my breath, but not all, feeling a quivering in my chest that ran down my spine. Rotanna tucked the furs tighter, then leaned back with a sigh.

"I did not believe you to be a warrior without skill," Rotanna confessed.

"I have never claimed to be a warrior at all," I replied.

"Only a warrior of skill would dare face the First Sword of the Red Leather, therefore I thought my sisters fooled by clever lies, soon to be found in renewed slavery. Even as we fought, I believed you merely underestimated me as males are wont to do, all the while expecting eventual victory. My eyes were blinded with unreasoning rage."

"Why do I still live?" I asked, the question having gnawed at me from the first moment I regained consciousness.

"The weeds holding the spirits of your children. When Cathe told me your children were dead, I realized you expected to die, too. Is that not why you brought the sprigs to the challenge? To hold them dear in your last breath?"

I nodded but could not speak of it.

"As my eyes opened, I knew you never thought to win the challenge. I looked up and saw Jalana crying. I have known Jalana all my life, helped raise her and Cathe when their mother died, but never before I have seen her in such despair. She was dying on that catwalk as surely as you were dying at my feet. I have dishonored myself, just as Cathe said. I've dishonored my sisters and my clan."

She turned her head away from me, a sob shaking her shoulders. I'd have sooner expected to find a lake in the desert than tears staining Rotanna's cheeks, yet there they were.

"You are not dishonored," I disagreed, believing the malady wasn't her fault. My mother had spoken of similar derangements. Sometimes they consume their victims entirely, leaving nothing but raving shells.

"I heard what you said to Cathe, but being a foolish male, you know naught of what you speak. What do you know of a warrior's honor?"

"Little," I was forced to concede.

"So now you see why I am angry with you," Rotanna said, gaining control of herself.

"Angry with me? What is left to be angry with?" I asked, my thin blood bubbling with irritation.

"I took vengeance on one who did not deserve my wrath. One whose sword skills are so hopelessly inept as to invite ridicule. I hurt my sisters and lost their love. And their respect. If you had left me in the woods as I asked, none of this would have transpired."

"You asked too much," I said, closing my eyes as my head dropped back on the pillow in exhaustion. "If you wish another blood challenge, set me on my feet. I'm more ready than you imagine."

"In dark jest do you see my quandary. I must have a reckoning, yet I may not face you in challenge. Nor is the path to reclaiming my honor clear."

"Your dilemma is hard, First Sword. May the Dread Goddess grant you solution," I said, turning my face toward the wall and trying to roll over. Unsuccessfully, for most of my body refused to move. I had heard enough of Rotanna's whining.

"The Dread Goddess has been kind," Rotanna said, turning my head back. The anger was gone from her eyes. The frustration subsided. She found an extra pillow to prop me up, leaning so close I could in no way ignore her. "You were my arms and legs in the woods, now I will be your arms and legs until they are restored. You would not let me die as I wished, now I will not let you die as you wish. Jalana says you travel upon a quest, one that will bring peace to your soul. I will join this quest that it brings peace to mine."

"My time of questing is over," I objected, trying to look away. As she had once tried to look away from me. My success was no greater than hers. How evil are the fates to visit such ironies upon simple men.

"We will have this understood, Magistrate. Only through you may I redeem my honor. Do not think to deny me."

Rotanna reached for the bowl of broth sitting on the stool, bringing it before me. She dipped the spoon and took a taste.

"The broth is excellent, as only Cathe can make it," Rotanna announced.

She dipped again and put the spoon to my lips with no doubt I would comply with her unspoken command. I sucked the broth into my mouth and swallowed, watching her the whole time. She fed me another, finding satisfaction.

"Do you eat because you want to, or because you're afraid of me?" she asked.

"Because I'm afraid of you," I honestly answered.

"Such is as it should be," she said.

There was a pounding on the door and it burst open, Jalana and Obina rushing in ready to fight with many others close behind. Some of the broth spilled. Rotanna and I stared at the intruders. When Jalana saw Rotanna with the bowl in her hand, she relaxed the grip on her dagger. It was a day of many surprises.

* * * * * *

I did not rally so quickly as one would wish, but the melancholy lifted. Rotanna came twice a day to massage my limbs, careful not to rip out the stitching her sword had made necessary, while others visited so frequently I finally begged relief. All seemed intent on keeping up my spirits now that I was eating again. Kaska could be particularly amusing.

"You don't realize your good fortune, Owen," Kaska said. "Only Jalana and Rotanna give me peace. Servicing six forest women is not like a night at the Blue Gill Inn. Sore is my body, and in the worst places."

"I'm sorry to have drawn you into such peril, brother. Next time I will let you take the blood challenge."

Kaska laughed. He drank a hearty black wine and gave me sips from a watered-down cup.

"To be serious, I admire these women greatly," Kaska said, his mood suddenly sober. "Except for my brothers of the Black Axe, there are none I'd rather have at my side should the bounty hunters come. Jalana most of all. I did not see her qualities before. You're a lucky man."

I gazed down the length of my painfully destroyed body, feeling somewhat less than fortunate. But the thought of Jalana did warm my heart in a sad way.

"Brother, we must be away from here before trouble finds us," I said, just as soberly. "The women must return to their forest before the deep snows. Jalana may be reluctant to leave but we must encourage her."

"You would send Jalana away? Why?" Kaska asked, entirely astonished.

"By the gods, look at me. I've seen dead men with more manly attractions."

"You'll get better."

"My right leg is already stiff. It will always be so. If I ever walk again, it will be with a cane. My left arm lacks strength. My days of drawing a bow are gone. Should a war captain of the Red Leather be saddled with a cripple? Must I live out my days being pitied by the woman--"

I broke off my words, unable to proceed. Someone else ended the thought for me.

"Love?" Jalana said from the doorway. By now I should have gotten accustomed to eavesdroppers, though I quickly realized Kaska knew she was there all along.

"Thank you, brother," I said in angry sarcasm.

"Owen, you are stubborn as any Farina. Accept your destiny," Kaska said, leaving the room. Jalana came to sit near me.

"You try my patience," she said.

"I speak truth, a quality much admired by Farina."

"But not the whole truth, something best left to merchants and soothsayers."

She took my hand. I sighed with a sudden contentment, my frustrations melting under her gaze. But it didn't solve our problems.

"Jalana, I ..."

She put her fingers to my lips. "I have known you love me since that day in the Black Axe camp when Kaska let the secret slip. I was confused. I hated you, not knowing what you were doing. When you lay on the dirt road and asked me to fulfill my vow, I cried for the first time. I have never cried over a man before, or anyone else that I remember. I have never cared for a man before, nor knew one whose compassion brought him so much trouble. I don't know what will happen, Owen. A warrior is foolish to see too deep a future. Let us have our moment before the gods take it away from us."

She stretched out next to me, a hand on my chest. I wanted to resist her, for I knew anything between us would be a fleeting thing. But I was weak. I dearly desired the warmth of her spirit. For that moment only, I decided, I would yield to my weakness.

Bounty hunters arrived the next day. Twenty men rode in from the northwest, coming across the Salisbury plain from the River Road. They looked tired and frustrated, even more so when they saw Trodden Castle occupied. Within hours, fifteen more closed in from the west. No groups came from the east, making me wonder if they had run afoul of Sir Philip. I certainly hoped so.

Kaska threw timbers up against the broken gate. Yana, Dalena, and Cathe stood on the wall with their longbows. Rotanna and Obina occupied the partial breach in the north wall, a dozen spears ready. Jalana had Mapps and Fuschia watching the south and east should the villains plan a sneak attack. But for the moment, none of the horsemen crossed the river, choosing to make camp just north of the town. I called Jalana to my room, barely able to sit up.

"We'll go over the wall at sunset," I announced. "They'll expect us to run toward Barlington. We'll go upstream instead, cross the Farris, and flee into the mountains."

"Owen, you cannot climb a wall, swim a river, or flee anywhere," she said.

"Kaska can carry me."

"Your wounds will open from such rough handling," she objected.

"Better than having my head separated from my shoulders."

"This stone fort is strong enough to defy a small army, and there are but forty of them. If you can move in a few days, we'll consider retreat," she decided. "Until then, do not worry. You have sisters to protect you."

"I don't need sisters to protect me. I'm a magistrate. They won't dare harm me, for such an act is treason. It's best if the rest of you leave before there's trouble," I pushed, hoping to bluff her. Jalana was not so easily fooled.

"There's going to be trouble, Owen. That much I promise," she said, leaving to inspect her preparations.

The afternoon remained quiet. I could not see our enemies from the lieutenant's lodging but I heard their muttering and smelled their campfires. An hour before sunset, a deep voice called out from Trodden Bridge.

"Yo, the castle. We would have a parley," the man said.

"What do you want?" Kaska said from the gate tower.

It surprised me at first that Kaska was answering the hail, but Jalana was crafty. Though she would rather have responded herself, she knew the bounty hunters would take a man more seriously. The war captain could be very sensible at times.

"I am Tremesion, captain of the Gibbons. With me are the Allen Jays and half the Green Weasels. More will come. We seek the murderer sought by the Trade Guild of Kannae. Surrender him now," their stocky leader demanded.

"I am Kaska, Brother of the Black Axe. I have friends, too, so I suggest you ride on."

"Not without our quarry. We are proud of our profession and have come far."

"It is good for men to be proud of their profession. Come against our walls that we may honor you," Kaska replied. I heard several of the women shout with approval. Judging by the sound of the man's voice, I guessed him within range of Yana's bow. Jalana must be holding her back, I supposed, waiting for more targets.

"We will talk again," the bounty hunter said, returning to his camp in the trees. No one in the castle made reply. It was not a time for revealing our strength.

At first there was nothing I could do but worry, and it strained my nerves. No one would tell me what was happening outside my small room. None would discuss retreat, though there could be no other choice. I painfully sat up, twisted my legs over the side of the bed, and grabbed one of Dalena's spears to find my balance. The sun had dropped, the night covered in clouds. Suddenly there was a clash of steel.

"To the gate!" Jalana yelled.

I heard grunting. Creaking wood. A group of freebooters had crossed the river in the darkness and were on the drawbridge trying to force the splintered doors. The twang of bowstrings told me Yana and Fuschia were firing at elusive targets from the rampart. The enemy was shooting back with fire arrows. From my door, I saw straw in the courtyard burst into flame. Jalana, Kaska, and Mapps were at the gate with spears fending off the attackers. Cathe used a blanket to bat out the fires. Dalena was guarding the weak north wall where an enemy swimming across the river might climb over the rubble. I didn't see Rotanna or Obina. Why weren't the best swords defending the gate?

The fighting on the drawbridge seemed to go on forever. At first it was too dark to see, much of the battle being moans and groans, curses and threats. When a pile of hay flamed up near the gate, it became easier for the enemy to see inside the courtyard. Mapps was hit by something and went down. Kaska and Jalana were desperately trying to keep the attackers from tearing down the wobbling barrier, but they were too few. Our horses began to buck and nay in their ramshackle stable, made nervous by the smell of battle. I grabbed a blanket and weakly flailed at the fire until Cathe pushed me aside.

"Stay down, Owen, before someone gets hurt protecting you," she angrily hissed.

Cathe turned and ran for the gate as Kaska staggered backward, apparently stabbed. It was too dark to see how many enemies were on the drawbridge. Jalana desperately called for Dalena.

"Farina! Fight on! Fight to the death! None shall be prisoners to these males!" Jalana yelled above the mayhem.

I tried to stagger forward, my weight on the spear, but I could barely keep my feet. I saw Jalana's outline in the dimly reflected light, fighting for her life against overwhelming odds. The gate was giving way, the bounty hunters taking heart at our failing defense. Any moment they would pour into the courtyard and there was nothing I could do about it.

Then a new sound arose from the drawbridge. Shouts of shock. Outrage. They were male voices, seized with surprise. Kaska was back on his feet, pulling down the gate so Jalana and Dalena could climb through the opening. All was chaos outside as I heard the attack falter. Steel was meeting steel. Bodies splashed into the moat. Someone called a retreat, a lone bugle blowing in the darkness, and within moments the freebooters were fleeing for Trodden Bridge. Female shouts of victory filled the damp air.

I leaned against an old water barrel, my heart pounding with relief. I realized Rotanna and Obina had been outside the castle all along, waiting to fall on the enemy rear, their swords ready to drink the blood of unsuspecting enemies. Jalana had pretended our cause was lost, drawing the enemy forward in the tradition of Farina ambush. I felt faint, the fragments of firelight swirling around me, and dropped to the ground in a heap.

The sun was shining when I regained consciousness. Mapps lay sleeping on a straw mattress near the hearth of my lodging, her shoulder wrapped in bloody bandages. I was covered with a thick fur, apparently no worse for wear. Jalana entered, a deep purple bruise above her eye. Her arms were bloodily scratched and her sword hand bandaged. She checked on Mapps before sitting at my side.

"Did you think to enter the fray, Owen?" she asked, frowning with displeasure.

"Do you expect me to lay here a helpless cripple while those I love die in my defense?" I answered, far angrier than she was. Jalana was startled at first, and then her face lit up with a smile.

"Where is the coward I fell in love with?" she asked.

"He is dead, war captain. Who can be a coward when there is nothing to live for?"

Now Jalana was angry. Her brow bent, her small mouth grew tight. Her fists clenched as if holding a dagger. She sighed deeply, wondering how to respond. But what could she say?

Kaska entered. A spear had pierced his right arm above the elbow, forcing him to wear a sling. He would not be using a sword again for several weeks. He started to speak before feeling the tension.

"So, you are wounded, too, my good friend. How many are left to defend this godforsaken rubble?" I asked.

"Enough, Owen. Thory likes to say that any post may stand if brave men will make it so," he answered, ignoring my foul mood.

"Brave women," Jalana corrected.

"I will not have this," I protested. "You place the blood of friends on my conscious, all to save a man with no future. It's intolerable. Leave me with Rotanna and go south before it's too late."

Jalana and Kaska exchanged a conspiring glance. They were plotting against my wishes. Refusing to accept the inevitable. Fury mounted within me until I shook with rage. But when I tried to stand and knock some sense into them, my body failed. I barely managed to sit up before toppling off the bed. Kaska caught me before I crumpled on the floor.

"You are indeed fearsome, my beloved," Jalana said, restoring the fur cover. "Even the bravest of Farina would be frightened of your wrath, but now you must rest and leave warfare to warriors."

I looked at her cuts and bruises. Kaska's wounded arm. Mapps was lying near the fire. Who else had been hurt in the battle? They wouldn't say.

Later in the day, when no one was watching, I dragged my crippled body from the lieutenant's lodging to sit in a gap of the north wall. There would be no further attacks for now, yet the freebooters across the river were slowly growing in strength, now numbering more than sixty. The only advantage I could see was that there were several different groups, and each wanted the bounty on my head. Had the Kannae slavers offered enough gold to please all?

At midday our enemies finally came up with a new strategy, and a good one. Using sturdy hay bales, the besiegers gradually moved up on the north wall from the other side of the river where their archers could rain arrows into the castle. Once securely within range, it would be easy to set the fortress on fire and force us into the open. They had not reckoned with Yana, who could hit a gnat at eighty yards, but even she could not halt the advance of the siege works. The Farina were not familiar with such tactics, but Kaska was. He came to sit near me, bringing a cup of Cathe's soup.

"It's getting difficult," Kaska said even as arrows were whistling into the courtyard. All were keeping their heads down. The horses had been moved into the barracks for safety.

"How much longer?"

"Sunset. Tomorrow morning at latest, if our bows can hold them off."

"Are you ready to go over the wall now?" I asked.

Kaska wouldn't answer. We had more wounded. Mapps, Dalena, and Cathe had all suffered injuries. He and Jalana were weakened by their battle defending the gate. If not for Yana and Fuschia, I think we would have been stormed within the hour.

"Help me to the top of the wall," I asked.

Kaska ducked under my arm and carried me up the steps to the rampart where Yana held the post. Fuschia was in the gate tower with Obina. Rotanna stood guard at the drawbridge. Everyone else was in the kitchen nursing their wounds.

The siege wall had moved a few yards closer, now set in the open ground south of town. They kept ten archers busy, we had but two. Then, much to my distress, I noticed a cloud of dust to the north. More riders, the clouds thick enough to warn that a large force was approaching. I couldn't make out the flags, but they looked blue. Kaska also saw the new threat.

"They won't wait for sunrise now," I said.

"Probably not," Kaska agreed. "I'm sorry, Owen. We should have left yesterday like you wanted."

"Get the horses ready. Gather enough food for a few days. Have the women ready to ride within the quarter hour," I said.

"You can't ride, and it will be hard for Mapps, even if Jalana permitted it."

"There's no time for argument, brother. You'll need to trust me," I insisted.

Kaska was not convinced, but he was a professional soldier and knew when retreat was necessary. I would depend on his good sense.

"Yana, help me stand," I asked.

Yana had heard my conversation with Kaska. She had no desire to flee, but she didn't want to see her sisters at the mercy of slavers, either. One does not thrive in the forest without a strong survival instinct.

There was stirring in the enemy camp. One group had pitched their tents behind the town stables, another just beyond the church. At some point they might loot the mercantile, but they hadn't yet. I tore off a piece of bloody bandage and waved it. A few minutes later, two rogues approached under a flag of truce, halting on the far side of the river thirty yards away. One was Tremesion, their supposed leader.

"Are you surrendering?" Tremesion asked, the stocky man wearing a steel helmet and dented iron breastplate.

"No, you stupid ignorant mucker. I am Owen Vander, once magistrate in the days of King Tarten. I challenge you to individual combat," I shouted down at him. Wearing my bearskin coat, the extent of my wounds was not obvious from so far away.

"Why should I accept such a challenge?" Tremesion answered.

"You have competition," I said, pointing to the north road. "In twenty minutes' time, the Brothers of the Blue Eagle will arrive to steal your prize. Has Kannae offered so much gold that you would share it with fifty more?"

Tremesion and the rest of his villainous rabble looked at the approaching dust. They knew I was right.

"Come down and fight, Magistrate. All say you are a great warrior, but I'm not afraid of you," the leader answered.

The bounty hunter retreated before Yana or Fuschia put an arrow in him. I had hardly caught my breath before Jalana came up the steps.

"What madness is this? There will be no challenge. No fight. None unless I go out and fight for you," she said.

"They don't want to fight you, my brave wildcat. The gold is on my head. But they'll come after you soon enough," I assured her.

"Owen--"

"Damn it, woman, listen to me," I demanded. "I have no intention of dying. See that trail there, along the river?"

I pointed to the wagon road leading to Crowley. The river ran straight for half a mile and then split around a rocky outcrop. The water was wide and calm on the left side of the island with shallow rapids on the right. The road turned sharply north at the bend before turning west again. The embankment was thick with reeds and brush.

"You have no boat," Jalana said.

"They don't, either. I'm not going to fight that idiot. I'll go over the bridge, turn west, and ride like mad. When the bounty hunters start to catch up, I'll dive into the river. It will be dark in half an hour, they'll never find me in all that tall grass. Take your women into the forest. You found me when I washed up on the Great River, you'll find me again."

"We might not. Or you might not outrun them long enough. Or you might drown."

"It's our only chance. You know it."

Jalana stamped her foot. Her fists were clenched. Her black eyes stared at me in frustration. I thought her extremely desirable at that moment.

"Promise you will reach the river and hide," she said.

"Fear not," I said, daring to take her in my arms. "I may be a trembling coward when faced with swords, but none match my swiftness when escaping a battlefield."

"You make jokes?"

"I tell a painful truth," I assured her. I noticed Rotanna on the stairs listening. She came forward, a hand on her sword, and stood before Jalana.

"The Magistrate has spoken well of what must be done. Now you must obey," Rotanna said.

"This is all your fault. We would have departed days ago if you hadn't sought revenge on a man whose only crime was saving your life," Jalana complained with great bitterness.

"You speak truly. That is why I will hold the bridge until you reach the trees, then follow Owen downriver. Your duty is to bring our sisters home," Rotanna lectured.

"Don't tell me my duty," Jalana protested, her brow bent.

"Cousin, we are beset in a strange land. Friends are far away. Owen's life may be numbered in minutes, as are mine. Let us not go into the next world with harsh words between us," Rotanna said, taking her hand.

Jalana looked at me, guessing Rotanna was right. My plan wasn't good, but better than no plan at all. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"May the Dread Goddess protect you both," Jalana said, hugging each of us. Then she took Yana down into the courtyard where Kaska was saddling the horses.

"My plan might work," I mildly protested.

"You wish to give my sisters enough time to reach the woods. Even a fine warrior would find this a difficult challenge, and you are but a feeble male with the skill of a girl-child," she responded.

"I'm glad you pointed that out. I thought for a moment to defeat the bounty hunters all by myself," I replied.

Rotanna laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. Siege workers stopped to see where the sound was coming from. I was startled, never having seen Rotanna so much as smile. I noticed for the first time her eyes were emerald green and sparkled when amused. All else about her was grim.

"Help me to my horse, First Sword. Maybe I will surprise you."

A few minutes later I was mounted on our best steed, a tough stallion sour enough to fight the enemy without my help.

"Try to be careful," Cathe said, looking at me with concern.

"Thank you, healer of the Red Leather. Thank you for everything," I answered. I would have leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, but such movement was impossible.

"We will sing of you at the summer bonfire," Yana said more realistically, tears in her eyes.

Kaska opened the gate so I could ride across the drawbridge. Knowing the horse might be reluctant to move with a cripple on its back, Kaska had loaned me his spurs, though I hoped not to need them. Jalana stayed at my side until the last moment, but I had no courage to say farewell. Rotanna had wrapped a leather sash around my waist and under the saddle so I wouldn't fall off. My left hand held the reins. The sword in my right hand was tied in my fist, for I lacked the strength to hold it. With luck, the freebooting knaves wouldn't guess the truth until too late.

I turned to look back one last time. Kaska had everyone mounted and ready, holding a lead for Mapps and Cathe, who were riding double. Yana had her bow ready, steady on Kaska's right to cover their flank. Fuschia would go last. Rotanna remained on foot, prepared to defend the bridge after I crossed. She alone held both bow and sword.

"Be careful, Owen. Remember your promise," Jalana said, breaking the silence.

"May God ride at your side, Jalana," I answered, suppressing an urge to say more.

I stirred the horse forward, Rotanna walking at my side as we approached the bridge. Tremesion stood on the far side, his sword drawn. The freebooters stood another thirty yards back near the Salisbury Cross, a greedy mob ready to pounce. Some held their weapons, others pawed at their filthy clothes. Several youngsters held the banners of their companies. I let my horse stop short of the bridge.

"Losing your nerve, Owen? What of your marvelous plan?" Rotanna said.

"It's a sad day when a feeble male with the skill of a girl-child is a better strategist than the First Sword of the Red Leather," I chided with a smile.

"Again you make blood insult? Explain before I drag you from that saddle."

"The Blue Eagles are almost upon us, a tough and ruthless scum," I said, seeing the dust cloud approach ever closer. "None of the bounty hunters are mounted. When I ride over the bridge and turn west, the hunters will scramble for their horses. The Blue Eagles will see the confusion and charge into town not knowing friend from foe. I'll be half a mile down the road before they organize a pursuit."

"It would seem I have underestimated you. It takes more skill to be a coward than I thought."

"I'll want a warm blanket when we meet downriver. And a fire. And food. Don't waste a moment longer at the bridge than necessary."

"I will make the fire, but I won't cook for you," Rotanna insisted.

"You probably can't cook anyway. No wonder Cathe does all the work."

"All do our share, even warriors. Perhaps I will cook one meal, but only to prove your ignorance."

"Pray we live so long," I said.

We both knew the truth. If we ever met again, it wouldn't be in this life.

"God speed, First Sword," I whispered.

"May the Dread Goddess watch over you, Owen," she answered.

I paused for a moment to whisper the Savior's Prayer, blessing all those souls proved deserving, and gave the horse a boot, riding toward the bridge where Tremesion waited. The sword was set on my lap so it wouldn't dangle at my side.

"A quarter share is mine for taking your head, Magistrate. I'd have done it for a copper," Tremesion boasted.

"Give me the name of your widow, sheep-boner, and I'll send the copper to her. It's all the slutty tramp is worth," I boldly answered.

Tremesion took no affront. His kind was accustomed to such bantering.

"It's time, slayer of slavers. Get off that nag and take up your sword," he said.

I leaned forward as if to dismount, then gave the beast a subtle kick. But the horse didn't move. I nudged again, without success. The creature just stood there. Finally, frustrated and afraid my plan would fail, I took a deep breath, and I dug my spurs into the horse's flanks as hard as I could. The steed suddenly reared, let forth a fearsome neigh, and galloped over the bridge straight at the Gibbon leader, the hooves clattering on the thick planks. Tremesion jumped aside at the last minute, his expression twisted in rage.

I waved the sword, glad to have it strapped in my fingers, and yanked on the reins to turn the horse left. My heart leapt with joy. The west road was wide open, the enemy caught completely by surprise! Praise God, for a fleeting moment it appeared my mad scheme might actually work. Except for one thing. The stubborn beast refused to turn!

I desperately pulled again and again but the stallion ignored my commands, charging straight for the town square where dozens of bounty hunters stood in clumps. A final yank on the reins availed me nothing as the horse burst upon the scattering enemy, trampling several. A spear flew past my face. Another jabbed close, ripping my leather vest. The horse made a violent turn causing my sword hand to swing out. The blade bit deeply into a man's face, cutting him from cheek to ear. One villain attempted to halt the charge only to be stomped by the raging animal.

An arrow hit my horse in the neck and he bucked, kicking left and right, spinning and lashing out, but the leather sash kept me in the saddle. My sword found another unlucky victim, inflicting a scalp wound, and a brutal kick of hind legs nearly killed another. But then a spear hit home, and another. The horse started down. I let go of the reins, drew a dagger, and cut myself free as the brave but insane creature collapsed, jerking and neighing in its death throes. After rolling free, I staggered to the Salisbury Cross and crawled up the steps, sitting with my back against the oak post. For a brief moment, the square grew still. I had a sword in one hand, a dagger in the other, and fifty angry rogues crowding forward to cut my throat. Six men lay bent and bleeding on the cobblestones. My knees were weak, my legs gone. My heart pounded like a festival drum.

But the freebooters hesitated. Their eyes filled with fear. A tremendous roar filled the air as a pounding shook the earth. Birds burst from the trees as the marauders suddenly fled. And then a shrill bugle sounded the charge.

A horse ran past me, and then another. Two more horses. Four. A dozen. Men in armor breastplates carrying lances pursued the freebooters across the town square riding down everyone they could catch. The enemy turned to make a stand at the Crowley Road, forming a rough line.

Swords clashed in the waning sunlight. Screams of battle raged in a fight that was brief as it was fierce. The hastily formed line broke under the weight of the cavalry attack, a dozen marauders falling before the mounted lancers. Some of the freebooters retreated toward Trodden Bridge only to find Kaska and the Farina coming at them with weapons drawn. I saw Rotanna strike first, meeting Tremesion sword against sword. The freebooter took the threat lightly, initially, but Rotanna drove him back with a Satanic anger, striking left and right before cutting the Gibbon leader down with a vicious slash to the throat. Fuschia and Obina were quickly at her side.

I tried to stand but only found my feet by clinging to the cross. All about me were disciplined soldiers, and in the lead, I saw a banner. In the dust and distance, I had thought it blue, but I'd been wrong. It was the yellow swallow-tailed banner of Sir Philip of Roxbury.

"Do you live, Magistrate?" his daughter asked, drawing her horse up next to me.

"Yes, Rowena. Thank you," I whispered.

"Never have I seen so brave a stand. The campfires of a hundred years will sing of your courage," Rowena said, her eyes wide with admiration. She rode on to join her father. It would take awhile for the absurdity of the remark to sink in.

Some of the freebooters ran north on foot. Several plunged into the river, though I doubt they got very far. I breathed a sigh of relief to see Jalana riding over the bridge with her sisters, all apparently safe. As the battle ended, Sir Philip approached with a victorious bounce in his step. His sword still dripped blood.

"Thank you, Magistrate," he said, reaching to shake my hand.

"Thank you?"

"Your diversionary attack was perfectly timed. These jackals must have thought us kin to let the Yellow Banner come on so strongly," he explained.

"Are these the ones you were searching for?" I asked.

"Those in green have earned death, with your permission," Sir Philip requested.

"You have command of the field, sir. Act according to your custom," I gladly offered, in no mood for dispensing justice to those who deserved none.

* * * * * *

To be continued in part ten, A Startling Discovery