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Common knowledge, huh?

A knock at the door, “come,” Gygr took a breath as Gustav and Tron entered.

“We’ve got lots of things to go through Commander,” Tron began laying papers on the woman’s desk.

“What is all this?”

“Decisions that must be made regarding the mine, the towns, the people, everything. You nearly run a country now, you have things to do.”

The warrior rose and turned to the men pushing their shoulders until they sat in the chairs beside the desk. “I am not an administrator. Find someone.” She grabbed her new light armor and slapped it on, buckling the sides and attaching her scabbard to her back. “Who’s that former treasury official?”

“You mean Eadwar?”

“Yeah, put him in charge of all this stuff, seems like it’s something he could handle.” She strode to the door, “I’m going for a ride. Be gone all day.” She waved and closed the door behind her when she left. .

“Commander,” Yoshi nodded.

“Yoshi,” the warrior returned the nod and smiled as she looked over the grounds. People were everywhere. Former slaves laughed in groups and worked over various chores. “Nice day,” she turned and walked backwards, holding her arms out, “isn’t it?” Then turned and continued to the stable where she saddled Hannibal and mounted her old friend. She ducked under the crossbeam above the open door and heeled Hannibal. On the way out a small hand waved to the warrior and she waved back. Mishal. She slowed the stallion and turned back, stopping where the girl stood in the center of a group of women and children . “Hey,” the gladiator leaned toward the girl, “want to go for a ride?”

Mishal nodded her head and the warrior grabbed the girl under her arm and settled her behind the saddle. “Hold on.” They galloped from Number One, everyone noticing the change in their Commander and not a few thinking they knew why.

Lieutenant Zozo was responsible for the installation at Tang Te Lake. His brigade of 20 protected the men and women who were assigned the construction duties for this outpost. Already a number of buildings were in the final stages of completion. The kitchen included a dining hall was completed and some were already taking advantage of the morning meal that was put together. Aldo’s indoor water system was incorporated into the plans of every building, which was made easier because of the convenient lake. Just as at Number One an area was set aside for gardens to be irrigated by the water released from the various sites.

Gygr was greeted by the soldiers and crew and stopped to speak with Zozo and the crew lieutenant. They walked through the site, Gygr noting and commenting on various new projects. Mishal walked with Hannibal to the lake where they both drank and relaxed while they waited for the warrior. Mishal watched the tall red haired woman as she strode easily alongside Zozo and, what is her name? Oh, yes. Melinda. The young woman watched Melinda lean toward the Commander whenever she spoke and noticed when the warrior slipped to the other side of her lieutenant so he was between Melinda and herself. Mishal had to laugh when Melinda nonchalantly stepped in front of the Commander, walking backwards a few steps, before settling at her side once again. The three stopped and evidently finished with the conversation separated.

“Ready?” A low, sultry voice settled over Mishal.

“Uh, yes.” Mishal stood and looked up at the woman who had already mounted, “may I ask where we are going?”

“Sure.” Gygr looked down on green eyes, “but I can’t tell you.”

“Oh.” The warrior leaned over and offered her hand to help the girl up. Mishal didn’t move.

“Well?”

The girl stood staring straight ahead not moving. The gladiator silently dismounted and stepped in front of Mishal looking into her eyes. She waved her hand before the girl’s eyes, nothing. No movement. Do I shake her? Probably not. Have to ask Bris about this. She waited.

Mishal’s hands shook slightly for only a moment and she looked at the warrior as if she’d never seen her before, then shook her head and blushed.

“You all right?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

Gygr swung onto Hannibal’s back and again, leaned over to help Mishal who smiled and took the proffered arm. Sitting behind the warrior, the girl wrapped her hands around the slim waist and held on as Hannibal was heeled into a gallop.

The gladiator really had no idea where they were going. She’d just wanted to get out of the camp and the headaches of making decisions about things of which she had little understanding. Better someone else take care of operating the mine. Her forte was fighting and she did that better than anyone. She was the best. She knew it, was proud of it, had worked hard for it.

They stopped at the top of a rise that afforded a view of the countryside. Leagues and leagues of scrub, dry, almost white dirt surrounded by more of the same. Gygr slipped her leg in front and over the saddle slipping easily to the ground. She helped Mishal down, holding the girl by the waist and they both stood looking at the desolation before them.

“Hungry?”

Mishal shook her head, “no I’m not.”

“Well, let me know.”

“Sure.”

They stood and gazed at the landscape for quite some time, each with their own thoughts.

Not hungry? Gods Emilie’s stomach . . . Don’t go there Gygr. She glanced quickly at the girl who sat on hard packed earth gazing somewhere southwest. Wonder where she came from? How’d she end up here? So young. So . . . The warrior swallowed the lump in her throat. So innocent. Gods what in Hades am I doing? She pulled her knees to her chest and held them to her. Cristov. Wilem. Bina. Emilie. Tang Te. All gone. All dead. Doesn’t make sense to get close, they just die. And I hurt. She stood quickly and pulled an apple from the saddlebag, expertly quartering it with the knife and giving Hannibal the treat.

She didn’t say anything. She must have noticed. Mishal watched the clouds drift near the horizon. Maybe she didn’t. She’s busy with the camp, why would she notice. Gods I hope not. All I need is for people to become frightened of me again. It hadn’t happened in such a long time. Thought maybe . . . well so much for that thought. Mishal saw the warrior bring up her knees to her chest. She’s probably trying to figure out what to do with me. Wonder if any of them are like Papa. Will they think I’m cursed too? The girl watched Gygr quarter the apple and whisper to Hannibal. Wonder if the horse knows. Wouldn’t be surprised. She rose and turned to the warrior who gave her old friend another quarter of the treat.

“Want a piece?” Gygr bit half a quarter and chewed it, offering the other quarter to the girl.

“No. Thank you.”

“What’s with all this thank you stuff?”

“What?” Mishal snapped her head up and looked into the fierce blue eyes that seemed to bore through her. Tears fell from the girl’s eyes.

Great. Another one who cries. What is it about me that brings out the tears? Damn. “Look. Sorry,” the warrior squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “Let’s go back.” She quickly mounted and helped Mishal up behind her and they cantered back to Number One.

Days turned into weeks and the Commander busied herself with training the new troops, adding to the officer corps and discussing administrative issues with Eadwar. The man was a genius. He’d taken Quella under his wing when he discovered the young man was not charging Gygr enough for the supplies he brought from Alaistria. Almeco had been loosing money and no one realized it until Eadwar checked the books. With Gygr’s approval Quella was paid a salary for the work he did and still retained ownership of Almeco with Bris, who decided to remain a silent partner.

Gustav and Tron had come up with a plan to fortify Number One in case of attack. Gygr approved of the innovative plan and nearly five hundred were put to work immediately on the project. The Commander asked Nellis, a talented young sculptor, to make a model of the proposed defenses. When the workers were shown the model they were enthusiastic in the preparations. Everyone knew the big picture and threw themselves into the project.

Mishal and Gygr had not seen one another since the day of the ride to Tang Te Lake. Each morning and evening, however a bowl of stew and pitcher of goat milk was on the desk for the Commander.

Yoshi had heard of the growing influence of a group calling themselves the Deviners. She had hand picked twenty soldiers who would form the core of their Commander’s personal guard. Without her every knowing it, Gygr would have people watching out for her every minute of every day. When she went off alone into the desert she was followed and her privacy assured by guards posted well away from the moody gladiator.

And she was moody. The morning she and Mishal had ridden into the desert was the last anyone saw of the smile and shining eyes that had graced the warrior’s face. Her officers had been with her long enough to recognize it was nothing they or anyone else did that would precipitate the darkness she fell into. Gygr was just like that. That’s what they told each other. That seemed to be enough explanation for most.

As word traveled from former slave to former slave, the legend of Gygr grew to such proportions it was considered someone like their Commander had to be a god or at least a demigod.  Gods, they believed did not have bouts of melancholy. Their only explanation was their Commander had come under a depraved influence. The Deviners took it upon themselves to seek the serpent out. Everyone the warrior saw, anyone she spoke with, became subjects of the scrutiny of the group. They sought the apostle of Deofol, the despoiler, who wanted to corrupt the pure goodness of their savior. And when they found him . . .

Gygr and her officers led scouting parties into the desert to keep their soldiers fit and encourage them to trust their hard learned new skills, to keep them motivated and from becoming bored and to maintain the security of Number One and the towns they had taken in the west. Copus and Pilon already had militias and a brigades were maintained in each to keep order and assure protection from Jauka’s men.

It seemed to Gygr that Jauka would never learn of the closure of two thirds of his mines. Months went by with no investigation from Misery and she was beginning to wonder if she had been too conservative in not going after the main forces already.

On a cool afternoon the clouds moving from the south brought a dust storm and behind it the forces they had been so long anticipating. Six patrols were out in various areas of west Doria. A new lieutenant, Zofar, taking his first patrol of his brigade took refuge behind some low hills until the dust storm blew over them. It seemed like only heartbeats before his twenty soldiers were decimated by what seemed to be a thousand of Jauka’s men. Not one member of Zofar’s group survived. Even the horses were slaughtered.

When the storm hit Number One the inhabitants took shelter in their respective quarters or the tunnels. The few who braved the blinding, piercing dust were trying desperately to keep their posts as lookouts. It was hopeless. When the storm finally passed the dust kicked up by the approaching horsemen clouded the horizon. Barnali was able to sound the call just before an arrow struck him through his throat sending him backward off the tower onto the hard earth.

As soon as the call of the attack was sounded hundreds of new soldiers ran to their posts as their officers mounted the tower to get a better view of the approaching enemy. Tactics that had been practiced for months were quickly and efficiently put into play.

Yoshi ordered the water be released from the reservoir and the huge nearly overflowing, thanks to a recent heavy rain, pond rapidly emptied into newly dug canals toward to enemy. The reservoir had been quadrupled in size since the rebellion and the Destroyers watched as hundreds of thousands of gallons of water tumbled toward the advancing army. Horses, hit by the surging water struggled to stay on all fours. The force of the water took many down, forcing nearly all the others to panic. Men fell or were thrown from their mounts.

Those who hadn’t been washed away or drowned were surprised by the sudden shadows made by thousands of arrows covering the sky on a flight directly toward them. Hundreds died. Jauka’s men regrouped.

Men who’d lost their mounts followed the mounted soldiers through the opening toward the interior of Number One. The Destroyers fell back nearly to the cavern. Jauka’s men continued toward them and, with a fierce cry, began running, swords over their heads, toward the former slaves. The Destroyers continued to fall back and everyone heard the “Poom” that cracked through the air. Jauka’s men ran into flames and fought to retreat only to find they were surrounded by black billowing smoke and flames that consumed the oil that had filled the very narrow trench surrounding them. As men were pushed or jumped through the flames the Destroyers attacked with a vengeance born of frustration, fear and blood lust.

Jauka’s army never had a chance. The Destroyers had destroyed their first army. Gygr had watched the events not participating. As much as she wanted to, her officers had convinced their Commander the Destroyers needed to know they could win without her impressive skills and efforts. She was proud of them.

Very few prisoners were taken. Those who were became tunnel diggers.

The euphoria rippled through Number One returning again and again, a tsunami rising and falling within the proud beating hearts of men and women who were now really soldiers. Their Destroyer’s soldiers. The Destroyers of Jauka. It felt good.

The bodies of Jauka’s dead were appropriated by Gygr. She and a small group of personnaly selected men and women disappeared into the desert not returning for several days. No one would discuss what they did or where they went.

“All we want is a small lock of hair from the Commander,” the man smiled as he leaned toward Mishal who sat across from him at the communal dining table.

“Why would you want that?”

“We will make from it a sacred charm to protect our Commander.” The man lowered his voice and Mishal had to lean closer to hear, “it is something our high priests can do to enlist the gods to protect her from all harm.”

Mishal thought a moment. Gods. Gods? I’m not sure I believe in gods. But then, maybe Gygr does. What would it hurt? How are you going to get some of her hair. Think Mishal. This is not something you should do.

As if reading her mind the man, Castelmorpus, whispered, “you can do it while she sleeps. We know you take her morning meal to her.”

Mishal, this is not a good idea. “I’ll think about it,” she smiled to Castelmorpus and rose.

The man immediately grabbed her wrist and stood, “you will do this.” He stared into her wide open eyes.

Mishal’s heart began to beat wildly, “no I will not do this.” She tried to pull her hand away and the man squeezed harder.

“You will.”

A deep voice floated over the table, “Mishal, everything okay?”

Mishal tuned to see Bris standing beside Castelmorpus, “Uh,” she pulled her hand away. “Yes, thank you Bris. Everything,” she looked into the Deviner’s eyes, “is just fine,” and quickly scooted around the table and out the door.

The men stood and appraised one another for a moment. “May I suggest,” Bris took a step closer to the man, “you stay away from Mishal. She is a special friend of Gygr’s and our Commander does not take kindly to her friends being threatened or harmed.”

“We only pray for Gygr’s saftey.”

“I would worry about your own if you continue to harrass Mishal.” Bris smiled and strode from the room to seek out the young woman.

He found her in the stable brushing Hannibal her voice barely audible, “. . . want with her hair. I never heard of that.” Mishal rested her head on the white neck, “Oh Hannibal, she hates me now. I just know it.”

“Why would she hate you?”

Mishal jerked around startled. “Uh, . . .”

The tall brown man settled on a hay bale and faced the young woman. “She does not hate you. I know.” He stretched his legs before him and leaned against a post at his back. “She is afraid to get close again.”

“Afraid?” Mishal had seen Bris and Gygr together and knew they had a deep longstanding friendship.

“Yes Little One, she is afraid to lose anymore people she cares for.”

“How will she lose me? I’m not going anywhere?”

“She fears for your safety.”

“Oh,” Mishal blushed, “that assumes, of course, she even likes me. And I know she doesn’t.”

“You know that do you?” Bris surpressed a smile.

“Oh yes. She, uh, anyway it’s really better. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her because of me either.”

“Do you have episodes often?”

“Episodes?” Mishal swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat only to have another develop.

“You suffered an aura while you were with Gygr, did you not?”

“She told you.” Mishal sat beside the man and slumped her shoulders.

“She was concerned. She thought she had hurt you.”

“Hurt me?”

“Our Commander likes you. And she becomes very protective of those she likes. It is something she sees as a weakness. I believe that it is something that gives her great strength and peace.”

“Hurt? Me?” Mishal slowly shook her head.

“What did Castelmorpus ask of you?”

“Uh, he wanted me to get some of Gygr’s hair. I refused.”

“Try to stay away from that one, Mishal. He is a zealot. He is not to be trusted.”

She nodded her head, “yes, I . . . I . . . was afraid of him.” The young woman shivered suddenly and Bris put his arm around her shoulder until it went away.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Bris,” the voice was firm.

“Ah, Little One,” Bris turned to see his friend standing at the front of the stable.

The warrior approached and nodded to the girl, “Mishal.”

“Gygr, how are you?”

“Uh, fine, just fine.” She drew the toe of her boot from side to side and then looked back up, “how are you?”

“Very well, I . . . uh, very well.” She rose to leave and strong fingers gently wrapped around her shoulder.

“Want to go for a ride later?” They looked at each other for a moment, forgetting about the man who still sat on the bale, “I, uh, want to get away from this place for awhile.”

Mishal thought a moment, “yes, that would be nice.”

“Great. I need to speak with Bris for a moment then we can go.”

Mishal nodded. Gosh she actually sounded relieved. Did she think I would say no? The young woman slipped from the livery while Gygr and Bris spoke softly with one another.

“What was that about?”

Bris stood and faced her, “she was threatened by Castelmorpus.”

“Who in Hades is he? Oh yeah,” she remembered the tall skinny man who wore a black robe with stunning red and gold designs. “That idiot. What did he want?”

“Some of your hair, evidently.”

“Gods, Bris what is it with these people?”

“Yoshi has people inside the group who are trying to determine that.”

“Yoshi,” Gygr smiled, “she thinks I don’t know about the personal guard she put together for me."

“You know?”

“Come on Bris. I took me exactly half an hour to find all twenty.”

“She is only trying to protect you Little One.”

“Yeah, yeah. So I’m not letting on I know.” The warrior smiled, “nice of her to do that though.”

“Yes.”

“So what do we do about Castel . . . whatever his name is?”

“I would think nothing until Yoshi finds out what they are doing.”

Gygr nodded slowly. “Yeah, but I don’t like Mishal being threatened.”

“I’ll suggest Yoshi select,” Bris smiled, “a personal guard for her as well.”

They both laughed and hugged. “Bris I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she squeezed the man tight.

“You would go on as you always do Little One.”

The warrior sniffled and turned to Hannibal. Quickly she saddled him and led the stallion outside into the clear bright of day. She turned to her old friend, “talk to Yoshi about those guards,” then mounted and rode toward the group of women and children Mishal was usually with.

Not seeing the young woman Gygr leaned over and spoke to an older woman, “seen Mishal?”

“Oh, yes, Commander,” the woman was startled for a moment, “she asked if you could meet her at the dining hall.”

“Thanks,” the warrior yelled over her shoulder as she heeled Hannibal in that direction. Gods. Why am I getting excited about spending time with her?

Mishal gathered the packages and carefully stored them in the saddlebag. Goodness, I’m excited just to go for a ride with her. What am I going to feel being with her an entire day? Concerned. That’s what Bris said. She’s concerned about me. Okay. She concerned about everyone in camp.

Castelmorpus watched as the Commander and Mishal galloped from the compound, smiles on both faces. Unnatural. The man’s hands began to shake. I spoke with the defiler. Gods forgive me. He lowered his head and held onto a post until he could trust his legs not to fail him.

Hannibal was happy to be out running with his mistress. Her friend wasn’t bad either. Mishal hung tight against the warrior her cheek against the scabbard, she smelled the leather her friend wore and that musty smell that was Gygr. Mishal closed her eyes and smiled to herself. I feel like I’m on a cloud. Gods don’t let’s stop.

Gygr headed west toward the caves Bris, Quella and Tang had used before the rebellion at Number One. No one had returned. Quella had described them to her and she decided a little spelunking was in order. Too bad Tang isn’t here to enjoy it with me. She shook her head and swallowed the lump before it got into her throat.

Mishal felt the sudden tension in her friend’s body and the slight shake of the head. She squeezed the woman tighter and felt warm hands cover her own for a moment then stiffen and retreat.

Why am I doing this? Gygr quickly removed her hand from Mishal’s. Gods. What is my problem? You like her. No. Yes. No. Yes you do. Maybe. She’s a child. Everyone is a child to you. Get real here. Yeah. YEAH! So there. You keep promising you won’t get close to anyone again and what do you do? You get close to someone again. Use your head Gygr. You actually like some people. Okay, so you like her. That’s a given. Yeah. I like her. She likes you. Does she? Of course she does. Look how fast she accepted your offer of a ride. Yes, Gygr she likes you. OK. For the sake of argument lets agree she likes me. So where’s the problem. Everyone I love dies. Love? Did I say love? Oh bullpucky. Gygr slowed Hannibal and slipped her leg over the saddle horn in front and slid down. She helped Mishal to the ground and looked for a place to sit.

“Hungry?” Mishal untied the saddlebag from Hannibal’s saddle. “Hungry?”  She asked again. The young woman turned to watch the warrior sit at the top of a huge boulder just above her. What happened?

The warrior rested her arms on her knees, hands clasped and stared into the horizon. So what’s so stunning? That you actually love someone? “That they die.” Everyone dies Gygr. Didn’t you have this conversation with Bris after Cristov . . . “Yes, I know. Everyone dies.” She held her head in her hands. What’s happening to me? All of a sudden I’m a ball of mush. Gods. Tears even.

Mishal sat beside the warrior and heard mumbles then saw the tears leak through her fingers onto the rock. Gently she rubbed the woman’s back in a circular motion. The young woman felt her body engulfed in strong arms, Gygr sobbing into her shoulder. She wrapped her own arms around the shaking woman and squeezed her tight. “It’s all right,” she whispered softly into the warrior’s ear. She squeezed harder and began rocking. They stayed like that for a very long time.

Gygr threw the apple core with a flick of her wrist. “That was good Mishal.” They sat cross legged before the fire Gygr had hastily built when the sun went down. “Glad someone had the presence of mind to bring eats.” The warrior threw her legs out and leaned on her elbow facing the young woman. “Sorry about that, uh, earlier. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Maybe exhaustion?”

“What?” Gygr wasn’t paying attention, “uh, oh. I don’t think so. What would make you think that?”

“You don’t sleep. You eat only two meals a day that I know of. You’re always out on some patrol or another. You go to Tang Lake and work out there on the construction. You go out with hunting parties every day.” She looked up into startled blue eyes. “Need I continue?”

“Uh, no.” She drew a circle in the dirt and quickly looked up at Mishal. “How do you know all that?”

“Am I in error?”

“No. No. I just wondered.”

“To be honest, I keep track of you.”

Gygr sat up and faced the girl, “why?”

“Because I fear for your health.”

“Hey, if anyone can take care of themselves around here, it’s me.” The warrior chuckled.

“Not your safety, Gygr. Your health.” She looked into the blue eyes until she had their attention. “You don’t seem to take care of you. You make sure everyone else has plenty to eat, but you don’t eat. You make sure even a splinter in a child’s finger is seen to by Stamos or Bris, but you’ll just let a sword cut on your arm go without even being cleaned until you have time. You practice at night while everyone else is asleep and I’ve even seen you take watches to allow the guards more sleep. When do you take time for you Gygr?”

“Tell me about the aura.”

“Very clever. It gets hot and you change the subject.”

Gygr’s jaw clenched, “why are you so interested anyway? All I am to you people is a sword.”

“What?” Mishal rose to her knees, “what? A sword? Is that what you think? Do you think all those people trained and fought just to have your sword with them.” She shook her head, “I don’t think so. I think you’re missing something very important. Those people don’t need a sword. They need a leader. They want desparately to belong somewhere. They want to be and feel safe. You just happen to be the one person who hasn’t taken advantage of them. Yet.”

“Yet?”

“Yes. Gygr. Yet.” Mishal sat down again. “They are afraid you will leave and with you goes their dream of a new life.” She moved closer until their knees touched. “Don’t you realize those people would give their lives for you. They love you. You. Not your sword. You. You gave everything for them and they know it. They feel like no matter what they do, no matter how much they give they will never, ever be able to repay you for their freedom.” The young woman stood and began to pace. “Gods I keep hearing about Emilie and Tang Te and how much you cared for them. I keep hearing about the anger and rage that their deaths caused. But,” she turned to face the warrior, “I don’t see anything in you but this facade of the stalwart warrior who will take it all.”

“So what’s wrong with that?” Gygr jumped to her feet to face the woman.

“Nothing is wrong with that, if,” Mishal yelled, “that’s really you. But it isn’t. You hurt.” She lowered her voice, “you try to hide it but you do. And,” she faced the warrior again, “that leads people to believe you don’t really care about them. Personnaly. As individuals rather than as an army to be led.”

“So, let me see if I understand this,” Gygr took a step closer to Mishal, “they want me to love them?”

“No,” the young woman almost laughed, “no. They want you to be here because you want to be, not because you feel trapped into it.”

“But I am trapped into it.” Now Gygr yelled.

“Are you?” It was so soft the warrior almost didn’t hear. “You could have left at any time. You and Bris and Quella and whomever else you wanted to take with you. You are here because you want to be, not because you were forced to be.”

“So,” Gygr turned her back to the young woman, “what do you want of me?”

Mishal sank to the gound and crossed her legs. “Oh Gygr, I don’t want anything from you. I just want you to be happy and you don’t seem to be happy right now. That’s all.”

The warrior paced for awhile. So does that mean they want me to stay or go? Change the subject Gygr. “So tell me about your aura.”

Mishal sighed, “I started getting them when I was about 13 or so. At first everyone thought I’d just fallen asleep for a few seconds, but then later when it lasted longer they became afraid. The bad crops or drought were suddenly my fault. I was cursed and causing the gods to curse the family and village. After I had my first siezure my father sold me. Every once in a while I go through an aura. I haven’t had a siezure in years.” She looked up at the woman, “that what you wanted to know?”

“Yeah.” Slowly the warrior sat again beside the fire. She grabbed a few small logs from behind her and piled them on. They were quiet for a long time. Gygr lay on her back and looked at the bright stars overhead. “You think they’re diamonds?”

“Huh?”

Gygr pointed into the sky. “The stars. Do you think they are diamonds?”

Mishal lay her head just next to the warrior’s, the tops of their hair barely touching, and looked into the sky. “No.”

“Really? What do you think they are?”

“Little suns. Like ours but very, very far away.”

“Never thought of that.”

“Gygr?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Me too Mishal.”

“You’re sorry I yelled at you?”

“No, no. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Oh.”

“I just wish I knew what you’re talking about. That’s all.”

“You mean you don’t know what I was getting at?”

Gygr shook her head, “no. Haven’t a clue.” She yawned, “maybe one of these days you’ll explain it to me.” She turned onto her side and immediately fell asleep.

“Uh, yeah. No problem.”

Gygr awoke to a mug of hot tea, warmed stew and fruit. “Wow, this is great. You must have been up real early to do get this all ready.”

Mishal nibbled the apple, “When I was a slave I was responsible for the fire. They didn’t want me touching anything and figured if I got burned it was no big deal. I was cursed anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” the warrior took a sip of the tea, “I don’t believe in curses. I had a friend at Inferno who was like you. He wasn’t cursed either. Gods was he good with a net and trident, though. Smart, fast. Really a great guy.”

“Where is he now?”

“Uh, he died.”

“Oh.”

“So I know that it isn’t a curse,” Gygr tried to get the mood back up again. “I remember the first time Wilem had a siezure. Everyone ran away but me and Tang. Then when Bris came we waited until it was over and helped take him to the physicians. We had really good healers, you know. Only the best for the gladiators. And they said it was something in the head. Never really understood it all, but I know it’s not a curse.”

“Yes. Well most people think it is.”

“Most people are idiots.”

Mishal almost choked on the apple in her throat. Gygr immediatley started slapping her on the back until the errant piece of fruit was disloged and spit out. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Gygr smiled. “About ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just pack everything up here.” Mishal swiftly wrapped the leftovers and placed them into the saddlebag which the warrior tied to Hannibal’s saddle.

“Aren’t we going the wrong way for Number One?”

Gygr shook her head, “not going there. Going to look at some caves Bris told me about.”

“Oh.”

“Are you afraid of caves?” Gygr pulled Hannibal to a stop.

“No.”

“Good,” she heeled him to continue. “I like going through caves,” she giggled over her shoulder.

Sometimes that woman is like a little kid. Mishal held on tight. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t understand what I was talking about last night. So think, what do you know about her. Well, she was sent to be a gladiator when she was five or so then when she was around fourteen went to Cleantlisto to be in the games. She’s killed alot of people. She was considered the best of all time. Still is, even. Other than that, just those stories. All those stories. But they are only stories, aren’t they?

Castelmorpus sat beside Belum and the men spoke quietly. “So you never saw her in the clutches of Deofol.”

“No, but I heard that was why her family sold her. And then when her master died unexpectedly many considered her as the cause.”

“How did he die?”

“He was thrown from his horse after the girl stroked the animal’s neck.”

“Yes, she might be in league with Deofol. But we must know for sure. It may have just been bad luck.” Castelmorpus rose, “as I said I am close to Gygr and will ask you be freed.” He nodded to the man and snuck from the cavern.

A raggedly clothed man, laying not too far from Belum, quietly rose and retreated from the cave and searched for his superior.

“What do you think you’re doing Belum?”

“Captain?” The former guard looked into the brown eyes of Lumor and shook. “Nothing. He just wanted to know about one of the slaves at Number Four.”

“Keep away from him, Belum. He’s not collecting information that will be helpful to us. It may even put us in greater danger.”

“Greater danger? How much worse can it get?” He spit the words at the superior officer.

“Death Belum,” Lumor whispered, “death.” He moved away after he saw the man turn white.

Gygr removed Hannibal’s bridal and saddle so he could roam and munch the small grassy areas near the mouth of the cave while she and Mishal investigated. They waited just inside while their eyes adjusted from the brightness of the outside to the darkness they faced, then ventured further. The warrior carried the saddlebag easily over her shoulder and Mishal held the waterskin. Both held a torch.

Inside the interior of the cavern two tunnels led further into the hills. “Mishal?”

“Yes Gygr.”

“Wanna take the right or the left one.”

“Doesn’t really matter.”

“Pick one.”

Mishal examined the front of each and turned to her friend, “the left goes down, the right goes up. Let’s go left.”

“Left it is.” Gygr led them into the tunnel just left of center of the far end of the cavern and began the slow descent. “Wow.”

“What?”

“Look at this.” Gygr held the torch up and at the very top within arms length was the roof of the tunnel. Over their heads charcoal drawn pictures of animals roamed the walls.

“Yes, wow.” Mishal agreed as she took her time to inspect each creature. “I know some of these animals but, what is that?” She pointed to a creature just to their right. It was a huge beast with two tails, one at the back and one at the front. Long hair seemed to fall from it’s shoulders and two long curved teeth extended on each side of the thick front tail.

“Don’t know.” Gygr looked at it carefully. “Bris might know though.”

The two continued ahead, the descent becoming more steep as they traveled. Gygr stopped and turned her head. “Hear that?”

Mishal listened, “no. Don’t hear a thing except for the scurrying of the little animals. Now they’ve stopped.”

“That’s just it they stopped.”

The two stood turning their heads to catch a sound. Quiet. Under their feet they felt the slight tremble of the earth only seconds before they heard the deep rumble from where they had come. “Run,” Gygr grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her further into the tunnel, their boots slipping on loose rock. Mishal stumbled and Gygr caught her with a strong hand under the arm. Dust and light rocks belched over and around them causing the young woman to mistep, falling to the ground, the warrior over and on top of her. They waited until the dust settled. “Mishal?”

“Mmmm.”

“Hey, Mish,” the warrior pushed herself from atop the young woman onto her knees. She brushed the dirt and rocks from her head and shoulders and looked down at her friend. “Oh gods! Mishal. Mishal?”