Chapter
6: Warrior Princess
Vasanta glared in anger
at the man in front of her. But
glaring was all she could do.
“How can you allow your son to go unavenged?” she asked,
controlling her voice only with difficulty.
“I allow nothing,”
Churgan Razan answered slowly, regarding his striking dark-haired daughter
from the comfort of his favourite soft-backed
chair. He was not so comfortable
now under the intensity of her gaze, but he was not about to back down from
his decision.
“Sit down, daughter,”
he commanded, regretting the fact that he had always encouraged his vibrant
and headstrong daughter to speak her
mind. “I will not have you
raging over me while we discuss this.”
Reluctantly Vasanta took
a seat across from her father and watched while he carefully filled two cups
of wine. She took the one he
handed to her, unwilling to offend her father any
further.
“You know that I have
done everything possible to avenge Kaylan’s death,” her father
said. “I dispatched warriors
to scour southern Vedra for the redheaded barbarian who killed
him. I even went so far as to
hire assassins to hunt her down.
None of this has met with success.
It has all taken a great deal of time and effort; not to mention
considerable amounts of gold.”
He held up his hand as Vasanta began to
speak.
“I know what you are
going to say; that avenging my son should not be based on how much I am willing
to spend. However, I have a
responsibility to my people to do more than throw away gold in a fruitless
search for vengeance. Kaylan
was warned against attempting to control the high pass between
Vasanta bit her lip in
vexation. This was not the first
time she and her father had discussed the matter of avenging Kaylan’s
death, but he had never seemed so final in his determination to quit the
search for her brother’s murderer.
“I am sorry,
daughter,” her father continued.
“Kaylan was my son, but his venture was poorly considered and
he should never have jeopardized his honour by kidnapping the
barbarian.”
Vasanta put down her wine
glass and got to her feet. “I
accept your decision, father. But
do I have your permission to seek Kaylan’s murderer on my
own?”
“You are the youngest
of my daughters, just as Kaylan was the youngest of my sons,” the father
replied. “I should hate
to lose you as well. It is reported
that the barbarian has fled south into lands that are not particularly friendly
to women.”
“I am a warrior of
Nahn, father,” Vasanta answered.
“Allow me enough gold for one final search and I will return
with the barbarian whore’s head.”
“I do not question
your courage,” her father responded.
“You have enough bravery for two
warriors. But you are headstrong
and may find yourself in situations beyond your
control.”
“Please father,”
Vasanta pleaded. “Give me
this one last chance. If I have
not found the redheaded barbarian in six moons I will return and say no more
about it.”
“Six moons,” her
father mused. He could see his
daughter’s mind was made up.
It was his fault in a way for encouraging her to be so
independent. Kaylan’s death
had hit her hard. He was the
closest to her in age of his children and they had grown up
together. Somehow she had come
to see Kaylan’s rash decisions as partly her fault and was determined
to put things right by tracking down the woman who had killed
him.
“Alright,” he
said finally. “I will let
you go. But you do this on your
own. I will give you enough gold
to hire the men you need to help you, but you will go without any of my
warriors.”
“Thank you, father,”
his daughter replied. “I
will go now. There is no time
to be lost if I am to find Kaylan’s murderer in the time
allotted.”
Her father nodded his acceptance
and Vasanta strode from the room.
Already she was visualizing the barbarian on her knees at the point
of her sword.
Kirdan stared in amazement
at the six heavily armed warriors who had just entered the
courtyard. All were remarkable
for their size and apparent strength.
But that was not what had him staring
open-mouthed. Another woman
warrior. He would have
bet his mother’s teeth that he would not live see another warrior to
match the exotic northerner who had visited his establishment barely a day
ago.
It was too bad about the
redheaded barbarian. He had almost
liked her. She had been polite
for all of her fierce appearance and had paid
well. But business was
business. Zenon had paid him
a gold piece not to interfere while he dealt with her, and in spite of the
fact that the abduction of guests was sometimes bad for business, he had
little choice but to stand aside.
Zenon was after all, a regular customer; unlike the barbarian who
was clearly just passing through.
And there was always the fact that there was very little he could
have done to save the barbarian in any
case. Men like Zenon were the
law in Meldin now, and it was best to stay on their good
side.
He approached the group
of warriors looking for some sign as to which was the
leader. Why did it not surprise
him when the tall woman stepped forward?
Things just got stranger and
stranger. The next thing he knew
Taya would be traipsing off on some adventure and disgracing her
family.
Although she was a woman,
the warrior who turned toward him could not have been more different in
appearance from the redheaded barbarian.
They were both tall women, but the redhead topped this woman by half
a head and the rest of their appearance was completely
different.
Where the redhead had been
the fairest woman in complexion Kirdan had ever seen this woman’s skin
was a deep golden-brown. And
where the northern barbarian had eyes like emeralds, this woman’s eyes
were almond shaped and as dark as the strong coffee he brewed in his
kitchen.
She held her ornate helmet
under her arm and a waterfall of raven hair cascaded over her shoulders and
spilled down to the small of her back.
With the possible exception of the northerner, she was undoubtedly
the most beautiful and exotic woman he had ever seen, a fact that was emphasized
by her gleaming black armour and enamelled helmet shaped like the head of
a demon.
“Ah, you are the innkeeper
I expect?” she said. Her
voice was musical and strongly accented.
He had encountered a few of her
cousins. If he remembered correctly
they had been fierce warriors from some remote area of the central
mountains.
“Yes , my
lady. Kirdan at your
service.” Unlike the barbarian
there seemed little doubt that the appellation ‘lady’ was
appropriate. This was a young
woman used to giving orders.
Up close he could see that
she was a little younger than the redhead; probably in her late teens or
just touching on twenty, but she had an air of authority of someone much
older.
“I would like a
room. My men will sleep in the
stables. They will eat here but
bring my food to my room. We
have already turned over the horses to the stable
boy.”
Kirdan frowned and looked
toward the male warriors. If
they were disturbed at such unequal treatment they did not show
it. He noted that they seemed
to be of the same ethnicity as the woman, but their armour and weapons were
of a different design. During
his thirty years as an innkeeper he had seen many different peoples and guessed
that they were probably another of the multitude of mountain
tribes.
As if guessing his thoughts
the woman sneered. “They
are dogs. I killed their captain
and they accepted me as leader.
They are well suited to the stables.”
Now,” she continued
changing the subject, “I also require
information. A silver coin suddenly
appeared in her hand, but she made no attempt to hand it
over. Instead she rolled it in
and out of her fingers.
Information, my lady?”
he asked, forcing his eyes away from the coin.
She looked him in the
eye. “About a week ago a
northern barbarian passed through this
way. Please don’t tell me
you know nothing. I have checked
the stables and that thing she rode is still in
there.”
I
should have gotten rid of that beast,
Kirdan
thought.
But
no matter. The barbarian was
not likely to ever come back from where she was
going. “Are you
a friend?” he asked.
“She murdered my
brother. Honour requires that
I repay the debt.”
The words were spoken calmly,
but they sent chill down Kirdan’s
spine. This would be a very bad
women to cross. Given the
circumstances the was no point in hiding anything he knew, not if he valued
his life. “You just missed
her. She was here only yesterday,
but she fell afoul of slavers. I
suspect she is somewhere in the middle of the Tombau
now.”
“Perhaps I would be
wise to take rooms elsewhere,” the woman said.
“This is the only inn
in Meldin. And I don’t make
a habit of allowing my guests to be
enslaved. I really had no choice
given the fact that Biel Zonon had ten men staying with
him. There really is no law in
this town except that of the sword.
I am sorry to disappoint you, but I think your vendetta is
over.”
“You have camels and
yeggers in your stables. I and
my men will stay here tonight. I
expect by morning you will have the animals properly outfitted for a party
of seven and a desert journey. I
also require a guide. You will
do if you can’t find one.”
She dropped the coin into
Kirdan’s greedy hand.
“Thank you, my
lady. Everything will be done
as you say.” Kirdan hurried
away before she thought of something else. It was going to take a bit of
organizing to get everything ready by
morning. And he had to find that
guide. A desert journey was certainly
something he was not interested in.
Vasanta turned away and headed for the shade of the colonnade. A glass of wine while the innkeeper got the rooms ready would be most pleasurable. Slavers. The barbarian was getting what she deserved. But that would not save her. They had a one day lead, but slavers moved slowly. She licked her lips, savouring the prospects of revenge. “I hope that bitch is enjoying the company of slavers,” she muttered, “because in two days I will have her. Things will not be so pleasant then.”
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