In the Skin of a Nunqua (9 page)

Bayla came out of her tent, dressed in riding clothes and with her hair pulled off her face. Dark circles outlined the skin around her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. She looked as though she hadn’t slept. Was she worried about her father? About Willovia? Or was it merely the change of scene that had kept her awake?

Shanti walked over to Bayla, feeling more comfortable in their new surroundings than she had ever felt at the castle. “Rega,” she said, “Commander Gy wishes to speak with you after breakfast, concerning your stay.”

“What about my tent? Why hasn’t it been cleaned? The bed needs to be made and the food needs—”

“More important matters need to be attended to, Rega.”

“You have no intention of following my commands. We’ll see what my father has to say about this.”

Shanti crossed her arms. “Your father’s concern lies with the enemy invasion, not with a tent you’re too lazy to clean yourself.”

“My orders will be obeyed.”

“If you want to be obeyed, then start giving orders that make sense. You’ll clean your own tent while you’re here. Every soldier is responsible for his area.”

“I’m a royal,” she said, “and as such, I have expectations that need to be addressed in order for me to fulfill my responsibilities.”

“I heard your father was an excellent soldier before he became king,” Shanti said. “You can discuss your living situation with Commander Gy after breakfast. I’m certain he’ll find it interesting.”

She watched Bayla enter the pavilion and wander about like a lost traveler. The princess stood amid the soldiers, a peacock among eagles. The greasy cook headed straight toward her, rubbing his hands together. Time to intervene.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the princess, come to grace us with her presence!” The cook bent at the waist so his nose almost touched his knees. “What will it be today, Your Highness? Roast beef with red wine sauce, or maybe poached pears with a hint of cinnamon?”

Shanti moved behind Bayla, diverting the cook’s attention.

“Mister Pascha,” Shanti said. “Is something wrong?”

He looked up, a snaggletoothed smile contorting his face. “Of course not, Commander Shanti. I’m just getting breakfast for our guest and making her feel welcome.” Using his shirt as a hand towel, he scrutinized the two women. “Beauty . . . and the beast,” he chortled.

“Pascha, you scum!” one of the soldiers said. “Give us our food and shut up.”

Mr. Pascha’s left eye twitched. He went about his business in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you let him treat you like that, Commander Shanti.” The soldier scooped eggs onto his plate and paid no attention to Bayla.

“Yeah, well, I told Commander Gy that I would
try
to get along with the cook,” Shanti said. “It’s proving difficult.”

She watched Bayla take her food to an empty table and inspect her spoon, polish it with the folds of her shirt, then polish the knife in the same manner. Conversation in the pavilion died down, and Bayla’s ears turned red, as if she had suddenly noticed the soldiers regarding her with odd expressions on their faces. She stopped cleaning the silverware and ate.

*

Shanti, Commander Gy, and Commander Jun stood around the tree stump at the center of camp and informed Bayla of the details concerning her stay.

“Sixty-five soldiers are assigned here for your protection,” Commander Gy said. “The king is alive but with the Willovian forces at the Outer Boundaries. It has been determined that the castle is not safe for your return.”

“How long will I have to stay here?” Bayla asked.

“Until we have written word from your father,” Gy said. “While we’re here, four commanders have charge of this camp. Commander Jun is responsible for supply. Please see him if you need anything. Commander Shanti is responsible for your protection. Guard posts are situated around the camp and continually manned. Commander Vittorio will arrive in a day or two. He’s in charge of training. To be effective, the soldiers need to continue training or their skills will grow rusty. I want you to know, Rega, the men here were
chosen
to be your security; they didn’t volunteer. Most would rather be fighting at the battlefront. As for me, I’m in charge of the commanders.”

“Commander Gy, I was wondering if I could go for a ride this afternoon.”

“That would be up to Commander Shanti.”

Shanti put her hand on her chin and narrowed her eyes in thought. “I’d like to patrol the area first to determine that it’s safe for the princess to leave the camp. Perhaps, tomorrow we can spare some personnel to escort Rega Bayla on a ride.”

Bayla thanked Gy for keeping her informed, then went moping into her tent.

Gy chuckled. “Shanti, don’t you think you’re being too hard on her? Breaking her spirit too soon?”

“I haven’t even begun. Besides, both of you would be treating Bayla differently if she were a man. I’ve seen you make men cry with your cruelty, Gy. You weren’t so nice to me when I trained.”

“Bayla hasn’t started training yet,” Jun said. “I doubt she’ll want to. She doesn’t seem the type.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Shanti said. “There’s more to Bayla than can be seen on the surface. If she’s to lead the Willovian forces as queen one day, she must first learn what it’s like to follow. Only then can she appreciate the sacrifices these men make.”

“Remember who she is,” Gy warned. “If you push her too far, it may cause the plan to fail.”

“She might try to return to the castle,” Jun said.

Shanti shook her head. “She won’t go back there . . . Commander Jun, Bayla will probably ask for some things soon: books and paper and such. I request that you wait to give them to her. For this to work, she has to be absolutely bored, and it’s imperative that she watch the men train.”

“That can be arranged, but I don’t think it will make a difference. The princess will never want to join the soldiers.”

“Are you willing to wager?” she said.

“A silver coin,” Jun said. “Bayla will never of her own accord ask to train.”

“A silver coin it is,” Shanti said. “In five days, she’ll be begging to join us.”

With his right foot on the stump, Commander Gy reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin. He placed his bet with confidence. “I believe it will take only three days.”

*

Shanti hiked alone on a barely discernible trail winding near the river. The terrain was rocky and steep. Remnants of old buildings and ruined bridges dotted the landscape. She sat on a boulder near water that babbled over a stony stream bed. Removing her wristlet and boots, she placed them on a rock and rolled up her sleeves to expose the scars on her forearms. She waded into the clear stream, stopping at knee depth and submerging her arms.

The cold water and solitude were a soothing balm for her soul. A gray heron stood downstream, spearing fish and frogs in the plentiful river, and birds chirped high in the trees.

It would have been easy to take Bayla for a ride this afternoon, even without a large security detail for her protection, for the danger was minimal. But she wanted Bayla to feel trapped, powerless, without control. Even more importantly, Shanti needed time away from people, especially after enduring the suffocating atmosphere of the castle.

The earthy smell and springtime luxuriance of the woods sparked her memory. The dream! It was the same forest, the same river, from Madiza’s spell. The fortune-teller’s prediction returned to her thoughts: if Bayla failed as a soldier, Shanti, too, would fail.

The babble of rushing water calmed her. Shanti was grateful for the opportunity to be alone and unwind. And it was only with great reluctance that she put on her gear and headed back to camp.

*

In the fading light of day, Shanti practiced slow-moving sword drills. A group of barefoot soldiers with soap in their hands headed to the spot where the river ran deepest. “Going somewhere, boys?” she said. Before they could answer, Bayla emerged from the trees. Wet hair hung down her back, and she carried a bar of soap. Shanti and Bayla left the men to splash and clean up in the river.

She escorted the princess to her tent and turned to leave. A black snake as long as her arm slithered out from beneath a bush and coiled into a threatening posture. A rat eater, not poisonous. It hissed and bared its fangs. Bold behavior for a snake. Bayla must have used her power to summon it. Another hollow threat?

With her boot, Shanti lured the serpent to strike. Then she stepped on its outstretched head. Its tail wrapped around her leg. She unsheathed her sword and cut the snake in two. Out of the bushes came two new snakes, larger and more aggressive than the first. Not rat eaters, these. Gray, water-loving, deadly.

So the princess was ready to play. Shanti released a latch on her wristlet to activate the darts. Twisting her torso, she pointed the weapon at Bayla.

“Toy arrows—how precious!”

“More venomous than your slithering friends there,” Shanti replied.

“I don’t think so. No monks are here to chronicle my death.”

“The toxins on the tips of these darts will not end your life right away. It takes a day for the poison to eat away your brain and stop your heart. If I die, so will you. I have every right to defend myself.
Anaya say midea.
”

“What?”

Shanti repeated the phrase and continued to speak to the princess in the language of the Nunqua.

With clawlike hands, Bayla raked the air. The snakes slithered closer to Shanti.

“You would cripple or kill me for
what
? Not cleaning your tent? Such is the folly of nobility.”

“You’ll hold your tongue, guard, and show the proper respect.”

“We’re not at the castle anymore, Princess.”

Bayla’s expression remained aristocratic, emotionless, cold. She dropped her hands and retreated into her tent as the snakes returned to the bushes.

Shanti took her foot off the black serpent’s head and kicked it into the vegetation. Then she picked up the long tail and went inside the pavilion. “Mr. Pascha.”

“Eh?” Clumps of hair drooped down the sides of his face. “Oh, it’s you. Come to take me up on my offer?”

An involuntary shudder ran through her shoulders, but she needed Pascha’s assistance. “I have a request. The princess asks that you prepare a rare delicacy for her.” Shanti stretched the body of the snake in both hands. “I believe you’ll have no problems impressing her with your culinary abilities. Rega Bayla is eager to savor such an unusual treat.”

“Woman,” he said, taking the snake away and inspecting it, “I like your style.”

Shanti rinsed her hands in the river while the cook skinned, gutted, and then cooked the snake and set it on a platter. He even garnished the meal with edible green leaves. With a wicked chortle, he placed the dish on the ground in front of Bayla’s tent.

Bayla came out of her tent and bent low to get a closer view of the long coil of meat on the serving platter. Realization struck, and her hands clenched into fists. She shrieked and kicked the platter, and the roasted snake tumbled into the dirt.

Men inside the pavilion snickered quietly. Shanti watched the princess from the shadows, studying her. But she didn’t laugh like the others.

“How’s that supposed to help?” Jun said from behind her.

“I’m showing her she’s not truly in charge, no matter who her father is.”

“And I’m telling you, she has no desire to be a soldier. Bayla’s going to run to the nearest castle to be with her own kind.”

“She’ll train,” Shanti said. “I’m sure of it. Though I’m not so sure she’ll pass the trials or the final test.”

“You don’t think Bayla will put the needs of Willovia before her own, fight a traitor, face death?” he asked.

“She wants all the glory and none of the pain. Bayla knows nothing of sacrifice.”

*

A dozen soldiers stood around two carts that had arrived at the camp. A squat man in uniform gave orders to unload. The carts contained swords of every size, as well as bows, arrows, battleaxes, lances, shields, and other weapons.

Commander Gy greeted the trainer. “Commander Vittorio! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Vittorio, in his brown uniform, looked like a thick tree trunk. His black hair was cropped short, and a luxuriant mustache divided his square face into upper and lower halves. Curly chest hair rose above the collar of his uniform.

“Looks like I arrived just in time. These weaklings obviously need my help.” Vittorio’s robust laugh carried across the camp. He lowered his voice for only Gy to hear. “Is it true what they say? Shanti’s here, promoted to commander and in charge of the princess’s security, no less?”

“It’s true.”

“I don’t know, Commander Gy. I’ve heard some strange stories about that one. Do you think it wise to have her here?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Vittorio turned to find Shanti standing behind him.

“Commander Vittorio,” Gy said, “meet Commander Shanti.”

“Of course.” He rocked back and forth on the soles of his feet. “I’ve heard some good things about you, too.”

“I’m sure you have,” she said.

*

Jun ate lunch with his fellow commanders at their usual corner table in the pavilion. He saw Bayla come in, pick over the food, put a few scant morsels on her plate, then sit alone.

“She seems so young,” Vittorio said. “And small. I have my doubts that this will work.”

“Some of the soldiers here are younger than the princess,” Gy said.

“I’d no more put a sword in her hands than give one to my own daughters.”

“Your daughters are free to live a simpler life,” Gy said. “They don’t have to deal with the pressures of ruling a kingdom.”

“True enough.” Vittorio turned to Shanti. “I hear you’re good with a sword.”

“Not good enough to defeat such a formidable opponent as you, Commander Vittorio.”

“Indeed.” He beamed at the compliment. “Still, I wouldn’t mind if you found time to join us on the training field. I hear your methods are, um, unconventional.”

“Who would I fight?” she said. “I can’t beat Commander Gy in a fair match without the risk of being sent back to the castle—or someplace worse. And since you’re the trainer, all you do is fight. I doubt I could defeat you. Jun, on the other hand . . .” It was the first time she dropped the formality of calling him by his rank “Jun is merely in charge of supply. I’d hate to embarrass him in front of everybody by winning.”