Disclaimers are at  .

Stefan turned in time to see the young woman’s head slam against the ship’s hull and her body slide limply into the water below. Felco and Picola had used the threat of their swords to part the fleeing crowd and three bodies splashed into the water within heartbeats of one another. Stefan quickly dove in search of the Commander’s Scholar. The water was dark and dirty and she used her now stinging eyes and hands to search for the woman.

Felco took a deep breath and dove below the surface for a second time. He thought the young woman would be close to the ship since she’d smashed into the hull. But then again who knows how far down she is by now? Who knew how deep the damn harbor was? Gygr is going to kill us.

Han had raced to the Governor’s House to inform Grest of the events and disappearance of Mishal. Within minutes the rest of the MG’s were shedding uniforms and diving into the harbor to add more stinging eyes to the search.

Stefan thought she saw a colorful tunic float just beneath the bottom of the ship. Her lungs burned and she began to feel feint. Just another little bit. She kicked her aching legs and grabbed at the cloth pulling it close to her chest. Another swift kick toward the dock and then up and she shot through the surface gasping for air. Callow and Zia moved quickly toward the woman and relieved her of the valuable package she held.

Bris sutured the gash in Mishal’s scalp and waited with everyone else. She was still unconscious. Gygr was still gone. And they were worried. Mish had a concussion and it was not a mild one. Bris was afraid the young woman could suffer permanent brain damage or even worse. Gods, where’s Gygr. He hurt for the girl, but he hurt more for is old friend who would be devastated if the young one died. She can’t take another loss.

The MG’s stood in the large ugly room. Grest had forced Stefan and several others to wash and put on dry uniforms. When they returned he’d sent another group. No one wanted to leave. They all felt responsible. They felt like failures. Dusk brought impatience and fear into the room. The young woman had not regained consciousness. They all knew that to be a bad sign. And Gygr still had not returned.

Gustav sent patrols out to search for their Commander. Although he knew she would be enraged that her Scholar was injured, he also knew it would be worse if she was not sought out and given the news. Gygr did not like surprises.

Dawn brought the sun. That was the only bright spot. Mishal had made no improvement. Her breathing had become slightly more shallow and her body had lost some of it’s warmth. Bris was not one to be pessimistic, but he could see nothing even remotely positive about the young woman’s condition. Except she still breathes.

The warrior wasn’t quite certain why she had become so angry so quickly. She’d spent the entire day just riding. Anywhere. Didn’t matter. Thinking. Mish had not made an illogical request. And true, she did miss the intimate physical contact a lover brings. But I want to share it. “Is that so hard to understand?” And she does as well, why is that so hard to recognize, Gygr? I want it to be mutual. But, it can’t. “Life isn’t fair.” No, damn it isn’t. So let her give what she can. And you give what you can. Is her happiness not worth that? Or is your ego more valuable? “Decide Gygr. You can’t have both.” Life isn’t fair. But then, no one ever said it was. You of all people should know that. The tall woman hugged Hannibal and let the tears flow. Gods, I’m a regular waterfall these days. Yeah, but it’s worth it, isn’t it? Yeah. “Yeah, it is. Isn’t it Hannibal?” The stallion snorted and raised his head up and down. She swung onto the saddle, “let’s get back. I have some apologizing to do.” The sun was slowly descending into the horizon. It would be dark soon.

She felt them first. Eyes on her back. Two on the left, on foot. Three behind, one on horseback. Has to be Jauka’s men from Misery or Doak. She sneered. Cowards. The warrior decided to have a little fun. Well, there are only five. Maybe they’d like to work in the mine? We could use a few more ‘volunteers.’ Yeah, but it would be so nice to smell the blood, feel the bloodlust coursing through my soul. “But, Mish wouldn’t like that.” The Scholar isn’t here. “Good point.” The men, courageous against a lone adversary, raced toward the woman and attacked.

Gygr shook her head chuckling to herself. Toloc and his patrol reached the hilltop in time to watch their Commander knock down the horseman with a firm kick into his chest. The young lieutenant held up his hand for the group to stop. “Aren’t we going to assist?” A pimply youngster leaned toward Toloc.

“No,” the young officer smiled. “Wouldn’t want to take away her fun.” He watched as the woman wrested the sword from another and landed a roundhouse kick to his chin, sending him to his back four body lengths away. “Besides, it’s not she who’s outnumbered.” Gygr smiled as the last of the assailants dropped to his knees holding his groin. Toloc approached and smiled to the warrior. “Commander,” he nodded, “nicely done.” The man called over his shoulder, “take care of the new prisoners.” He dropped from his mount and approached his superior as she inspected a slight cut on Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Damn,” she pulled a pouch of salve from her saddlebag and rubbed the light colored mixture over the cut. “Sorry about that old friend.”

“Huh, Commander?” Toloc cleared his throat.

“Yeah?” She continued ministering to her mount and watched the man shift from foot to foot.  “So, spit it out.”

“Gustav sent us. Mishal is injured.” The man stepped quickly back when she turned to face him.

“What?”

“Mishal is injured.”

“What happened? When? How is she?”

“Uh, I don’t know Commander, we were sent to find you to let you know.”

“Damn the gods,” she shoved the pouch into her saddlebag and swung onto Hannibal’s back. “Take care of the prisoners.” And she was gone, flying on the back of her stallion as his powerful legs carried them over the countryside back to Port Emilie. What could have happened. I’ll kill them. If she is hurt, I’ll kill them.  They were supposed to protect her. “I’ll kill them.”

Stefan stood in the corner of the room waiting, feeling personally responsible for the young woman’s injury and current state. Arms crossed over her chest she watched every movement made by the unconscious young woman and every individual around her. How easy can it be to just protect someone? And I blew it. If that girl dies Gygr will slit my throat. Gods, if that girl dies, Gygr won’t have to, I’ll do it myself.

Bris sat in a chair beside the bed and held Mish’s hand, stroking her forehead every once in a while. Outside the sun sent her final rays over the horizon before settling to sleep into the sea.

Mishal watched the tall woman lift her cupped hand from the lake and drink the cool water held in it. The sun sparkled over the shining water and glistened in the fire red hair as the woman stood shaking excess moisture from her hand. She unsaddled the mount that grazed beside the pool. He snorted and nodded his large white head up and down then nuzzled the woman’s chest.

The dark young woman sat comfortable in the lush grass the warmth of the sun over her shoulders like a blanket. She does not know me. No, she does not see me. She watched the woman settle beside the stallion rubbing his leg as she threw her arm behind her head for a pillow.

The tall woman turned her head to look at Mish. Inexplicably clouds, black, brooding things swiftly covered the small spot the young woman sat in. Thunder cracked to her right and a rush of ice cold brushed the warmth from her body sending shivers through to her soul.

Bris stood and drew the woman away toward the gigantic window that overlooked the harbor. Quietly he informed the woman of the events that had led to leaving Mish unconscious. The tall warrior conferred a look at Stefan with all the disgust, disappointment and rage she held at that moment for the people whom she had entrusted the safety of the woman she cared for more than her own life.

Stefan’s shoulders dropped in disgust at herself for failing, not only her Commander, but the young woman who had been her charge. Her eyes caught the shiver as it ran through the body of the Scholar. Gods please let me die quickly. She swallowed when she caught the jerk of her superior’s head requesting that she step outside the room.

Within a heartbeat of closing the heavy door behind her Stefan was slammed against a wall, a forearm against her neck. “Explain,” Gygr whispered.

Stefan tried to swallow but could not, the arm against her throat forbid the action. “Ulgh, Com . . . I . . .,” Gygr released the woman who slid down the wall holding her throat. She took some moments to regain her breath and looked up to the warrior standing over her. “I failed you both,” she dropped her eyes to her hands dangling between her upraised knees.

Gygr stood over the woman, rage coursing with her blood through her veins. She could feel it. This was more powerful than mere bloodlust. This was barely controllable and that scared her. She wrestled with herself trying to gain control of her breathing, her thoughts, her rage, trying desperately to find something to hang onto to keep her from being swallowed up by the whirlpool pulling her down to pure primal violence. And then she saw the one thing that could free her from it’s tenacious grip. Tears. Stefan was crying, her tears staining the floor in front of her.

The warrior put her back against the wall and slid beside the sobbing guard. She waited until Stefan had herself under control, “did you do your best?”

The guard nodded and turned her wet face toward the red-haired woman beside her. “Always, Commander.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled. “It happened so fast. We all tried. Every one of us.” She felt a strong hand squeeze her shoulder.

“All I can ask is for your best Stefan.” Gygr rose and touched the woman’s head, “get some sleep.”

Who is she? Do I know her? No. Yes. No. Mishal shivered. Surrounded by the sun warmed lake and meadow she was in the dark and cold. She rose to move, but the icy darkness followed. She tried to run away from it and finally dropped to her knees in fear and exhaustion. It won’t leave me.

“Pretty lady,” she held her arm out to the tall red-haired woman who did not even look her way. Maybe she can’t hear me? “Pretty lady,” she said a little louder.

Why can’t she hear me? Why won’t she look at me? “Please help me lady.”

Two days later nothing had changed. Mishal was still in the fetal position her body not responding to the wishes of her brain. Gygr, receiving news that Jauka had finally learned of the loss of Doria, prepared for an invasion by his forces. Every able bodied man and woman were pressed for service. Farmers, butchers, and others who were vital to the production of foodstuffs were excused from duty, as were those who absolutely refused to serve. Enforced service in the army would only bring discontent and possible desertion. Leave desertion for those drafted into Jauka’s service. I will not force anyone to give their life for a cause in which they do not fully agree.

The warrior spent hours going over plans with her officers in the large library of the Governor’s House. She worked with each officer individually assessing their troop strengths and weaknesses and devoted even more hours to training and preparation of both Doak and Emilie. What had remained of Doak was burned to the ground. Large stones were dragged from surrounding areas and dropped into the Doak harbor. To everyone’s utter surprise, ships owned by Jauka still made port in Emilie. For the Destroyers they also made excellent reefs in the Doak harbor where they were sunk.

The man, Reiver, who had tried to kill Gygr was a wealth of information regarding the Jauka’s Navy. The man spit when he spoke of the high born sons who’d purchased a command with no sea background whatsoever. “Dems ledin sailrs who know bout da sea. But dey don lisen to em. Dey don know a mensal frm a rudda.”

“Good,” Gygr nodded her head for the man to be taken back to the storeroom that had been his home for the last three weeks. “Navy won’t be a problem as long as we keep them from docking.” She made arrangements with Gustav to have the former sailors he’d found in the tunnels to begin training for a special mission.

Each morning and evening she ate her meal sitting beside Mish in the large bed. She spoke with the young woman about the plans and what gossip she’d heard, knowing her Scholar loved to keep up with the goings on among her friends. Bris had told her the girl’s brain and body were at odds with each other. At night she slept beside the Scholar, when she slept. Mostly she lay for a while then returned to the office to go over the plans once again. More often than not she’d practice with her sword in the large ornate hall that had been used by the Governor to hear the pleas of those charged with crimes. The large chair used as his throne was chopped into firewood and given to those who had little to boil their cook water. It had been an ugly chair anyway.

Stefan, Picola, Py, Civer, Syndar, Kreil and Zia shared duty inside and outside Mishal’s room. The women would spend time talking to Mish as if she were awake. The Commander had thought her Scholar could hear her and wanted the young woman to not feel alone. And so they talked to her. Syndar spoke of her growing interest in Tella. It seemed the man did everything perfectly. Except he had trouble with the bow. And then there was the slight awkwardness he still had on the back of a horse. But then, Syndar confessed, not everyone was a natural on a horse. And of course, not everyone was a crack shot with a bow. But he was still one of the best soldiers in their army. Syndar was absolutely sure of that.

Kreil confessed her dislike of Zia. “She’s obstinate. And arrogant. Thinks she’s the best rider in camp. Can’t stand the woman.”

“And Mish, she’s just so bullheaded.” Zia held the young woman’s hand. “And thinks she’s the only person who knows how to break a horse. I really don’t like Kreil. Can’t stand the woman.”

“Zia was so beautiful today on that roan she was breaking,” Kreil smiled, looking out the large window into the light of the midday. “Gods she was beautiful.”

“It was the most amazing thing. I helped her up and when our hands met I felt this power go through my arm. And,” Zia took a deep breath. “Gods Mish. Can it be I lo . . . like her?”

Stefan chuckled, “and there they were looking at anything but each other and we all just knew they belonged together. It was really funny Mish.You would have loved it. Actually,” the woman became more subdued, “you wouldn’t have found any humor in their discomfort.”

“Syndar and Tella are together all the time now. The noises that come from their tent,” Py laughed, “did I tell you they share quarters now. Well they do. . . .”

“. . . . Zia followed Kreil and when they thought they were alone . .  .”

Mishal was kept informed of everything. “The Commander doesn’t smile anymore. Bris is worried, I know. So are the rest of us.” Stefan stroked the brown arm lightly, “we are all afraid for her. She misses you so much.”

The red-haired woman stood beside her looking down with tear filled eyes. “Scholar,” she closed her eyes tight, “where are you?”

“Pretty lady,” Mishal looked up into the face in obvious agony, “do you know me?” Who am I? Who are you? Pretty lady?

“We have a milk cow in town.” Gygr stroked the young woman’s forehead, “so you  don’t have to drink goats milk anymore.”

She felt the pretty woman stroke her brow. She does see me now? Mishal cried.

It became a daily ritual. After the afternoon meal Gygr would carry Mish and they would sit outside. Gygr would keep up a running commentary of the goings on before them and many of the Destroyers and all of the MG’s would come by and chat. Never made a difference that Mish did not reply. They acted as if she understood everything they said. They knew she had to. “We waited for Jauka to invade, but the coward didn’t.” The warrior held her Scholar tightly waiting for the day she would awaken.

A large white stallion grazed and stood beside the young woman. He sees me. “Bright White Cloud,” she held out her hand and the stallion lipped her fingers gently.” The darkness dissipated slightly as the horse approached. “How have you been?” The large head nodded up and down. “Good?” Again he nodded.

Gygr stepped closer and the stallion approached the warrior. When Picola again tried to grab his mane he moved away. “Wait Pic,” the tall woman stepped down. “Just leave him.”

Hannibal again approached the warrior and her Scholar. He snuggled his nose into the young woman’s chest and nibbled at her tunic. Slowly, a small dark hand rose and stroked the long face of the animal. The stallion nibbled the dark hair and snorted when light gray eyes opened. “N . . .ni . . .” Mishal rested her head against Gygr’s chest and slept.

“What does that mean, Bris?” Gygr paced between the bed and window as she watched the girl sleep.

“We will not know until she awakens.”

“But is she asleep or unconscious?”

“She appears to be sleeping, Little One.”

Word went through Emilie faster than fire through a dry hayfield. Every member of her personal guard waited for Mish to waken. Leaning against the wall, sitting in a corner, even sleeping on the floor, they gathered and waited. Gygr paced.

“Bright White Cloud? Who is she? Do you know?” But who am I? Does anyone know?

“Mish, how are you.” Gygr held the girl’s right hand and stroked her arm.

Pretty lady hello. Mishal tried to speak but she could not form the words with her lips. I know the words but my mouth won’t let them come out. And why can’t I grab her arm with my hand. What is wrong with me? Who is me? Where am I? Do they want to hurt me? They are soldiers.

“Bris? What’s wrong with her?” Gygr turned to the man kneeling beside the bed.

She’s so pretty. And the man is so nice. Should I know them? Do they know me? I’m so tired. Mishal closed her eyes and slept.

“You’re a slave. Remember that.” The whip cracked and she felt the leather open her back. The warmth of her blood trickled down her legs as the whipping continued. “Slave. Say it. Slave.”

“I am a slave,” tears trickled down light brown cheeks, “I am a slave,” she repeated over and over even after the man had stopped.

“You belong to me now,” he pulled her to him and sunk his sweaty hand into the bowl of salt on the table and rubbed her striped back with it. She screamed in agony as he reached for more and rubbed vigorously. “Shut up,” he demanded and she did.

She felt the probing of his tongue into her mouth and stared at his bright red hair. She’d never been used before. The fear of her being cursed had kept men away. This one either doesn’t know or doesn’t care. Mishal shivered as she saw his organ rise and expand. Oh gods, help me.

The man held the now shaking girl. He released her and she fell to the floor shaking and convulsing. It seemed to go on forever so he kicked her demanding her to stop. He’d been so angry she was forced to eat crumbs from the floor or table. Damn the gods if he would feed the wench. It took a while to find a buyer.

The butcher traded a ham for a month’s service from the cursed little bitch. But after he chopped off his thumb while hacking away at a freshly slaughtered lamb, rumor spread it was the girl who caused it. The man had to get rid of her. Who knew, he could be next. One just doesn’t test the gods.

Jauka didn’t usually pay for mine slaves. The man was lucky to get a miserable eight singli for the little wretch.

Gygr heard choking and quickly awoke and caught her breath as she watched light gray eyes widen in abject terror. The girl tried to speak but could not. “It’s all right Mish.” Gygr tried to sound calm, but her own fears crept into her voice.

Using her left hand and leg Mishal desperately struggled to the other side of the bed and fell off.

“Gods, Mish are you all right?” Gygr used her arms to push herself over the bed beside the young woman.

Mishal, eyes wide, pushed away from the warrior until she was against the wall and could move no further.

Picola, who’d had duty and was sitting in a corner, immediately moved to help her commander.

“She seems to be afraid of me, Pic.” Gygr watched the girl allow the guard to lift her back onto the bed.

“Nonsense Commander,” the guard brushed the girl’s hair away from her face with her hand. “How could Mish be afraid of you?”

“I’m not sure, but she is.” Gygr approached Mishal and immediately the young woman tried to move away. The warrior raised her hands palms toward the girl and backed away.

“Gods Commander, she is. Why?”

The warrior shook her head slowly, “gods only know.” She turned to the door then turned and faced the guard again, “I’ll send Istri with some food. Make sure she eats.”

“Yes Commander.” The door closed behind the tall warrior.

Mishal ate everything. Then threw it all back up. Picola and Istri cleaned the mess from the floor, from themselves and from the crying girl. “Now, now that’s all right. We’ll just have to get you something lighter to start with. A nice broth maybe.” Istri held a mug of cool water for Mish. “Drink it slow. Just a few sips at a time. Understand?”

Mish nodded. Of course I understand. I can hear.

The broth tasted good and Istri forced the young woman to take it slowly. When the bowl was empty everyone was pleased. And when nothing came back up, everyone was ecstatic. Gygr leaned against the wall in a dark corner and watched her Scholar. She doesn’t know me. I don’t think she knows anyone. She motioned Stefan from the room with her eyes.

“I want you to speak with her.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“I want to know if she recognizes anyone here. If she knows her own name. And,” the warrior dropped her head, “and why she’s afraid of me.”

Stefan’s face didn’t change. “Yes, Commander. Now?”

“Yes, please. Now.” The warrior turned and left the hall as Stefan watched the slumped shoulders of the woman quiver ever so slightly.

Stefan sat beside Mish in the large bed and spoke softly. “So now Tella and Syndar are to be married.” The tall dark guard watched the young woman from the corner of her eye.

Mish nodded her head. Tella? Syndar? “W . . .who . . .?”

“Well Syndar is one of your personal guard.”

Mishal’s brows shot up and her eyes widened, “ppersnl ggrd?” Now they have me guarded. What did I do?

“Yes. Like me. We protect you.”

Protect me? Protect me from who? The red-haired one? Must be. Who else would want to hurt me? He must have sent her. They are of the same blood, those two. “Wwhat ss your nname?”

“I am Stefan.”

“Ssfan?” Mish smiled shyly.

The guard smiled, “yes. What is your name?”

The smile faded from the girl’s face. “I . . . I ddon. . .” She shook her head and looked into Stefan’s eyes, “ddon know.” Tears escaped and Mish hastily wiped them away.

“Your name is Mishal. But Gygr calls you Scholar.”

“Gyg?”

“Yes the tall one with the red hair. That is Gygr.” She watched as fear, concern, confusion and terror seemed to cross the young woman’s face. “Don’t you like Gygr?”

Mishal shook her head quickly and firmly.

“Why?”

“I’m a sslave. Sshe wwas ssent tto ttake me awway.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Rred haird one ssent her.”

“Red-haired one?”

Mishal merely nodded.

“Mishal?” She waited until the young woman faced her, “do you recognize anyone here?”

She nodded.
 

“What?” Gygr was stunned. “She thinks Hannibal belongs to her?”

“Yes Commander. She only remembers him. Calls him her Bright White Cloud. Insists he belongs to her.”

“So,” the warrior held up her hands, “she doesn’t know who she is? Doesn’t know who you are? Thinks I’m here to kill her or take her back to a former owner? And Hannibal is her Bright White Cloud?” She drew her fingers through her hair, “Gods.”

The tall guard cleared her throat, “Commander, if I may be so bold as to suggest you spend some time with her. Let her know you have no intention of either killing her or returning her to anyone. She’s confused and scared.”

“I doubt that seeing me again will foster anything but more apprehension and bewilderment, Stefan. Make sure she’s comfortable and has everything she needs and wants.” Gygr turned away effectively dismissing the guard. A clearing of a throat brought her attention back to the room. “Stefan, I really don’t wish to discuss this further.”

“Little One.”

She turned, tears filling her eyes to her old friend and mentor, “Bris.” The warrior sat in the chair behind the desk, “she doesn’t know me. Thinks I want to kill her.” She controlled the sobs threatening to escape her throat, but the tears fell anyway.

“Yes, Little One. She is not here, yet she is. She is not Mishal, yet she is. “

“Will she come back to me?”

“It is hard to say, Little One. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they do not.”

“What can I do, Bris?”

“Let her go in whatever direction she goes. If she should never know you again you must let her go. I wish, Little One, I had more worthy advice.” He placed a dark hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “Let her find happiness where she may. And you must do the same.”

“I . . . I can’t.”

“You must.”

Gygr stroked Hannibal’s mane once again as she spoke softly to him. “She loves you and thinks you belong to her. Will you share yourself?” The large stallion snorted and nodded his head up and down. “Take good care of her, boy. I still care so much for our Scholar,” she wiped the errant wetness from her cheeks with his soft mane and left the livery.

“She is free to go wherever she chooses. I . . . I would like you to stay with her, if you wish to do so Stefan.”

The tall dark guard nodded.

“She is free to take Hannibal for a while.” Gods, this is difficult. Stefan had come to her saying Mishal wished to leave Port Emilie. The warrior’s heart broke yet again. How many times can a heart break? What could she do but agree. “Any of her personal guard she wishes to accompany her is free to go as well.” She faced the silent woman standing before her, “just keep her safe, Stefan.”

“I will, Commander.” She promised.

Gygr watched the party depart Port Emilie early the following morning. Nearly all the MG’s had decided to accompany their charge. Only those who had strong emotional ties to others decided to stay. Stefan, Picola, Civer and Py surrounded the Scholar keeping her safe within their cordon. The warrior sat for a long time on the porch in the chair they had settled there so many weeks ago. “Why don’t you go to the tavern and join some of the others,” Istri had remained with the Commander. She felt it her personal responsibility to keep the tall warrior decently fed. That, she felt would be a full time job, if she knew Gygr as well as she thought she did.

“Just bring me wine,” she slid comfortably lower in the chair and began to drink the heady stuff when it was brought to her. She spent the evening emptying the carafe Istri had brought and was working diligently on her third when a scream from the wharf caught her attention.

The warrior vaulted the porch fence and ran toward the wharf. She turned the far corner of the new warehouse in time to see a large man manhandling a small young woman.

Without thinking the woman launched her feet into the back of the assailant forcing him and his victim to fly into the water just beyond. Her own momentum carried her after them. Gygr felt strong arms grab at her throat as she struggled to hold her breath, kick to the surface and pry the fingers from her neck all at the same time.

She heard more splashes as she surfaced and dragged in a deep breath, then another before being pulled down again. Her large hand grabbed the index finger of the assailant and she pulled it back until she felt it give. The rest of the fingers released her immediately and she saw the man breathe in a lungful of water as his other hand’s grip slackened.

At the surface again she saw Gustav dive in after taking a breath. Yoshi and Syndar tread water beside her. “Get the girl,” she shouted.

“Girl?” Yoshi dove again followed by Syndar. Gygr watched Gustav hand the limp form of the assailant up to Kelt and Carilios who pulled him easily onto the wharf and gave a helping hand to Gustav.

“Got her,” Yoshi spit out water and smiled as she pulled the woman’s head into her arm and stroked toward the wharf.where strong hands relieved her of her burden.

Syndar broke the surface and looked to the Commander. “You all right?”

Gygr nodded and swam to the wharf where Carilios pulled her up. “What happened?”

“Not sure,” she bent over, her hands on her knees, gulping air into her sore lungs. “Heard . . . scream . . . found him . . . all over her.” She coughed and finally stood up. “Gods that hurt,” she held her chest with her hand, “out of shape, all that sitting around.” She shook her head and grabbed Carilios’ arm, “let’s go check on the girl and find out what happened.”

Bris was just lightly rubbing salve into the girl’s scratches when Gygr and Carilios entered the hall. Stringy blonde hair fell onto her shoulders and into her face and she kept pushing it back over her ear. When he finished he turned to the warrior, “nothing but scratches. She’ll be fine,” and wrapped a cloak over the girl’s shoulders.

“So,” the tall woman sat on the stair beside the girl, “why was he attacking you?”

“Tartarus, the horse dung wouldn’t pay up.”

“Pay up?”

“Yeah, I did me part and he decided to skip out rather than pay. So I chased him down and demanded me money.” She wiped her runny nose with her hand and wiped that on her wet and torn dress.

Gygr stood and looked down at her. She’s so young to sell her body. “Oh.” The warrior glanced at Carilios who merely shrugged, then back at the girl. “Want something to eat?” She smiled and held her hand down to the prostitute and helped her to her feet.

“Yeah, I am a bit empty,” She smiled revealing white, straight teeth. “Nice of you to offer.”

Gygr watched the girl go through four bowls of Istri’s stew, two loaves and an entire pitcher of milk before she was satisfied. “What’s your name?”

“Lisiana,” she looked up with her head still down sopping up the last of the stew with the last of the bread. “It’s a real fancy name, I know, ‘specially for one like me who ain’t fancy. But me mum, she liked it. Guess she kinda hoped the fanciness would rub a little off on me.” She shook her head, “mum always hoped I’d get outta the trade, but never had much chance. I do all right, though. Mean, I got a nice little place just above the tannery.”

“Doesn’t that  . . . uh smell?”

“Oh, at first it did. Then ya just don’t notice it. Know what I mean?”

“So, where do you work? Or do you . . . uh . . . have your own business?”

Lisiana laughed. “Your quite the funner ain’t ya.” She lay her arms on the table and leaned toward the warrior. “Gots me a place with One-Legged Paula. It’s just there, across from the wharf. She lets me use a room for three singli a night.”

“Do you . . . make a profit?”

“Course I do. What ya think? I can sometimes make 30 singli a night. Specially when a ship comes in. Must say you bunch sure dropped my trade down quick like. Them sailors of Jauka’s were good customers.” She leaned back into the chair and examined the woman before her. “Hey, you been nice. I’ll give you a free evenin’ anytime you like.” She thought a moment, “cept when a ship comes into port.” She looked into the woman’s eyes. “What ya say, Blue Eyes?”

Gygr sat back. Blue Eyes? Free evening? “Thanks, I’ll . . . remember that.”

“Gots to go now, Blue,” she stood and patted the warrior’s shoulder. “Hey, you know that Gygr?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Tell her, she can have a free one too. On me. Kinda a welcome from Lisiana.” She smiled and strode from the room leaving Gygr watching with her mouth open.

“Close your mouth Commander.” Istri removed the dirty bowls and utensils from the table. “Quite a talker that one.” She jerked her head in the direction the whore had left.

“Yes,” Gygr shook her head. But really a nice person. Free evening? Blue?

The warrior slipped quietly down the stairs to the storeroom being used as a temporary jail and leaned against the wall watching Carilios question the man they’d pull from the sea.

“. . . just a common slut. Didn’t give me my money’s worth so I refused to pay the bitch.”

“You mean you couldn’t get it up, right?” The low quiet voice sounded ominous to the man.

“You? You bitch. Who do you think you are shoving me into the water like that?”

“I really don’t care to see big men strike small women. And I really don’t like it when a woman performs a service and isn’t paid.”

He spit and stared into dark blue eyes. “She’s just a whore and a slut.”

His head snapped sideways by the force of the blow and his body slammed against the solid stone wall. He forced himself to his knees and shook his head. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” He started to rise and felt the air forced from his lungs by the blow to his chest. The big man looked up at the woman standing over him. He did not attempt to rise again.

“How much money did he have on him?” She glanced at Carilios.

“Seventeen sengli.” He handed her the man’s pouch and she removed some coins.

“I think she deserves at least ten of them for all her trouble and pain today.” She looked down at the now frightened man still on his back. “What do you think?”

The man said nothing.

“Good, he agrees.” She dropped the pouch onto his chest and jiggled the coins she had in her hand. “Let him go.” She strode from the room without looking back.

Jiliana approached the warrior as she headed toward the porch, “Yoshi told me what happened. Is the girl all right? Are you all right, Gygr?”

“Yes,” she patted the young woman’s arm. “Yosh doesn’t have to worry about me. And the girl just got a few scratches.” The warrior sat and reached for the pitcher to pour more wine into her mug, “damn. It’s empty. Istri,” she yelled. “Sit down Jili. Got the feeling you want to talk about something.”

The woman sat beside Gygr on the large chair. “Mishal, . . .”

“What you want Gygr,” Istri, her hands on her hips stood before the woman.

“More wine.”

“Only if you eat something with it.”

“What?” The warrior stood looking down at the woman who was just more than a head shorter.

“Don’t give me that Commander. You’ll get your wine, but it’s coming with food.” Istri hustled away with a firm nod at the warrior.

Gygr slumped back into the chair. “I get no respect anymore.”

“Is that truly what you want, Gygr? Respect?”

She thought a moment, “no Jili,” she chuckled. “I guess I’m just floundering.”

“Yoshi thinks all you need is a good tumble with someone?”

The warrior raised her brows at the woman sitting beside her. “And what do you think?”

“I think it does a world of good for Yosh when we’re together and she’s probably right.”

“Jili, please tell me you aren’t serious.”

“Okay. I’m not serious. But that’s still what you need.” She rose and looked down at the pouting warrior and patted her hand, “I talk to you tomorrow about the dock master thing.”

“Wharf Master,” Gygr whispered to herself. So according to Jili and Yosh all I need is a good tumble. Yeah. So, who in Tartarus do I tumble with? She jiggled the coins in her hands, thinking.

One-Legged Paula sat on a plush chair at a table on a balcony overlooking her establishment. Across the entire right wall Gygr could see various small casks laid on their side on a shelf. Some casks had colored markings of an ox, goat, owl, and other animals. Some had an X or XX and even an XXX. The warrior shook her head. Large casks were strewn about the place and patrons sat on benches or smaller casks using the larger ones as a table. The usual quiet enveloped the room as she entered, but most of the customers were her own soldiers and paid no mind to her once she was recognized. She strode quietly to the back and sat on a wobbly cask at what appeared to be the only real table in the place. It wobbled too.

Paula watched with great interest as the tall red-haired woman entered her tavern. She nodded at the bartender who approached the warrior. “Get you somethin?”

“Lisiana here?”

He looked up at Paula and then back at the woman calmly sitting at the table. “Yeah.”

“I’d like to see her.”

“Uh . . .” he looked again at Paula who nodded. “Sure. Be right back.”

“Wantin’ me?” Lisiana entered from a door just beyond the back of the room. “Hey, Blue. Watcha doin here?”

“Came to give you the money you were owed.” She pulled the small hand toward her and dropped the coins into it.

“By the gods, Blue,” the small woman actually blushed. “You didn’t hafta do that.”

“Everyone deserves to be paid for their work.”

The young woman dropped her eyes to the table, “yeah, well Blue, what I do is a bit different than most.”

The warrior touched the girl’s hand, “you performed a service. You deserve payment.” She pulled her chin up with her finger, “if you were a baker you wouldn’t let someone take a loaf without paying for it, would you?”

“No.” She pulled her head away from the large hand that held her chin, “but then I don’t sell bread.” Tears began to fill her eyes and she changed the subject. “Want a drink?”

“Sure, if I can get one for you too.”

“No. No need, besides they water mine down and charge ya the same for it. Don’t be wastin yer money.”

“I insist.” Gygr smiled and motioned the bartender she wanted two mugs of wine.

The warrior had eaten everything Istri had brought and fortified with the food in her belly she spent the evening laughing and talking with Lisiana. The more they talked the more impressed she became with the young woman.

“Lisiana I want you to come home with me.” Gygr stood a little awkwardly and held out her hand for the woman to take.

“Sure, Blue.” Lisiana smiled. She really liked this big woman. She had to let the warrior use her shoulder to lean on as they left the tavern. Outside the stars sparkled above them and Gygr looked up to them.

“Know somn, Lis,” the warrior stumbled over her feet. “I use ta know names of some a those stars.”

“Come on Blue, where do ya live?”

“And where I come from they all look brighter for some reason.” Gygr almost fell but the strong arms of Lisiana held her up.

“Well, well. Lookee here. The slut and her drunken hero.”

“Go way,” Gygr waved her hand at the man who stood smiling at the sight before him.

“Or what?”

The warrior tried to stand as straight as possible and stood before the bully her legs firmly spread. She smiled, “Or I’ll kill you.”