Rise (War Witch Book 1) (4 page)

“I’m Chara. Of Rheumer,” she offered at last when the warrior simply stood and stared at her. “It’s a village about a day’s journey from here,” she added after a moment, pointing to the south.

The warrior followed her finger and seemed lost in thought for a moment, then extended an arm, indicating Chara should proceed. With a bit of hesitation, Chara headed for the well-worn path she’d been on when the Demon Seed attacked her. A moment later, the warrior fell into step beside her, her eyes lost in thought. Chara sighed and tried to find a way to keep her blouse together as they headed into the woods.

Chara couldn't count the number of times she'd made the trip from Rheumer to Adel, the second largest city in the small agricultural nation of Fival, where she had lived all of her eighteen years. For the last four, she’d made the trip twice a month on her own, her mother too busy to travel with her as she once had.

Never in that time had she had any reason to be afraid. The three day trip to get there, and the equally long trip back, was the most boring part of the week-long ordeal. Nothing ever happened anywhere in Fival, after all. The long stretches of fields and small farming communities held little interest for bandits or Demon Seed.

She knew there was a war going on between the High Gods and the Demon Gods, but it all seemed so distant, and she rarely gave it any thought. During the long walks to and from her tiny home town, all that occupied her mind was how boring everything really was, and how much she wished something interesting would happen.

Nothing bad, of course, but something, anything. She would often stop and stare off into the distance, trying to picture the far-away lands she only knew from books and traveling bards. Places like Isnar, the mighty kingdom built around a massive oasis in the middle of the Great Desert of the southern continent. Or Savacal, the Ivory City blessed by the Empress of Heaven, Isel.

Anywhere but Rheumer. For that matter, anywhere but Fival. The whole country was backwards as far as she was concerned. So hung up on traditions they couldn't even see today, much less tomorrow.

All Chara wanted was to see the world. The most she'd managed so far was the road to Adel, and the city itself, not that it was much to see. Three thousand people did not make a city, and it wasn’t the whole of her world. She couldn't stand the idea of that.

It was a source of constant debate between Chara and her mother. Kate had been born in Rheumer and lived all her life there, never traveling any farther than Adel. It was all she’d ever needed to be happy, and she couldn't see why it wasn't enough for her daughter.

She believed in the traditions of Fival, though, where Chara didn't. That a woman’s place was by her husband, and nothing was more important than giving him children. It was the ways things had always been, and would always be. It was enough.

Maybe for her, but not her daughter. Chara wanted more. She just didn't have any way to get it. With her mother making almost daily mentions of Hale, the butcher’s boy, Chara had started looking forward to her trips to Adel more and more.

At least during her one day there, she could be free, and live as she pleased. It wasn't much, but it gave her some sense of control over her own fate. She knew her mother wouldn't approve of the things she did while in Adel, the reason she never had to spend any money on an inn for the night, but she didn't care. It was her life, and she would live it her way, while she could.

Three years ago, she’d given Allen Dale her virginity before he left to join the army, believing all of his promises that he would write her every week, and come back for her as soon as he could. She’d waited a full year, but never heard from him again. Only when she had accepted she wouldn’t, did things change for her.

She had loved Allen, with all the passion a fifteen-year-old could muster, but beyond that, she’d truly believed that he would take her away from Rheumer and show her the world. When she realized he wasn't coming back for her, her young heart had broken, as she saw her future become nothing more than the butcher boy’s wife, mother of his children, and eventually, another grave in the small village.

It became easy after that to listen to the sweet words of the men she met in Adel. She never went with anyone who was crass or crude, and they had all been gentle, wonderful lovers, but still, the emptiness that had settled in her soul remained.

Chara knew she would spend the rest of her life with the extent of her world being Rheumer, Adel, and the road between them. It was soul crushing, and only the feel of a man holding her, sliding into her, made it bearable.

She knew what people would say, of course. That she was a whore. She didn't care. At least if she was, Hale wouldn't want her. While he was a kind and sweet boy, she didn't love him, and had no intention of becoming his wife. Even if she had to spend the rest of her life with a different man in her bed every night, it was preferable. One of them may even take her away, and show her the world.

It was selfish, she knew, and cruel, not just to her parents, but also to Lucy Kal. Not even Chara's best friend, Melanie, knew how close she’d grown with the village healer’s daughter. Of the kisses and caresses they shared under the cover of darkness.

They would lie together, sweat cooling, and talk of the wonders they would see when they left Rheumer, but both of them knew it would never happen. If Lucy's father, John, ever learned of the relationship the girls shared, he would send her to live with her aunt in Felnor. Chara couldn't stand the thought of that, especially after Allen. Lucy was the closest she knew she would ever come to being in love.

Or rather, she feared it. That the secretive trysts in the reeds beyond Hodge's Pond in the wee hours of the night twice a month was as close as she’d ever get to being in love. The nearest she would ever know to filling the vacant place in her heart.

Twice a month, Chara made the journey to Adel, sold the few small things Rheumer produced to the merchants for a pittance of coins, shared a bed with a stranger, and returned home, to find some small solace in the arms of the young woman she wanted to love more than she did.

Deep down, she hated herself for becoming this way. She could live with that, though. She couldn't live with the emptiness in her soul, or her life. She risked everything, she knew, for that fleeting sensation of being alive, of being happy, as she waited for something, anything, to happen.

When it finally did, it was the last thing she would’ve expected.

Night fell a few hours later. As the sky gradually darkened, the warrior rested a hand upon Chara’s shoulder, bringing her to a stop. A curt nod of her head indicated a clearing a few yards off the path.

“Camp? You think we should make camp for the night, right? Okay.” Chara nodded and followed the warrior to the clearing. She wasn’t sure why the woman didn’t speak to her, but she had a feeling she would find out eventually.

Soon the soft glow of a campfire lit the clearing, accompanied by the smell of the rabbit being roasted. While the warrior had been away hunting the game, Chara had taken the time to better mend her top and now had free use of both hands once again. Not that the woman seemed to notice.

“Can I ask you something?” Chara finally inquired, unable to stand the silence that had filled the clearing ever since the woman had packed away her armor, leaving her in a loosely fitting tunic, the same red as the armor.

The woman waved her hand for Chara to proceed.

“Can you speak?”

The woman looked at her sharply, her eyes blazing for a moment with anger, but it faded quickly, replaced with a tired look. Rather than answer with a yes or no movement of her head, the warrior simply shrugged, as if to indicate that she didn’t know.

Chara chewed her lip for a moment. “Do you have a name?”

A clear no answer this time as the woman removed the rabbit from the spit and used her boot knife to quickly cut it in half, tossing one to her companion.

Somewhat at a loss, Chara ate her rabbit, watching the strange woman curiously. A Blessed of Ramor with no name who wasn’t even sure if she could speak. It was odd. Regardless, the woman had saved her life at no small risk to her own, leaving Chara feeling as if she owed the woman a debt she couldn’t repay.

As they turned in for the night, Chara found herself again contemplating the strange woman. The fireball she’d used clearly marked her as a mage, but her sword skill was that of a warrior. As she drifted off to sleep, Chara wondered for the first time if Ramor had priests and priestesses like other gods, and if the woman who’d saved her was a Cleric of the great War Wolf.

Mostly, though, she was just glad that something had finally happened. Not a minor thing, either, but a Blessed, a servant of Heaven, saving her from Demon Seed. It didn't hurt any that she was stunningly beautiful, a detail Chara couldn't help but notice, and rather like.

She was strong, she was kind, or at least, seemed to be, attractive and capable. She was everything Chara had been waiting for. Everything she’d ever dreamed of.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was to wonder if she liked girls.

“YOU’LL REALLY
like my mother. She makes the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted. If we could keep them fresh long enough to make the trip to Adel, we’d sell them, but that’s three days, and well, you know how well a pie keeps for three days,” Chara said as the two walked down the wagon road.

The warrior gritted her teeth and smiled. For the last eight hours, the girl had talked enough for the both of them. When the Hob-Goblin had come for her, she could’ve simply talked it to death.

In the back of her mind, her Avatar, the living spirit of magic that resided intertwined with her soul and allowed her to cast spells, sang its agreement. Appearing to the warrior as a small, gray rabbit, its singing was the constant companionship she’d known since the day she’d stepped foot in the High World. The abode of the Gods had awakened it, and she’d never truly been alone since.

“Watch out for my brother Daniel, though. He thinks all women find him irresistible. And, I mean, looking the way you do, you’ll be the most beautiful woman in the village, so he’ll really want to get your attention. Not that he’s a bad person or anything, but he has an overabundance of confidence, if you know what I mean. Of course, I’ve never heard any of the girls from the village complain about him, so maybe it really isn’t an overabundance after all.”

The warrior stopped dead in her tracks and clapped a hand firmly over Chara’s mouth, ending the running monologue. Holding a single finger to her lips, she came as close as she could to begging.

“Am I talking too much?” Chara asked when the warrior removed her hand. She was answered by a sharp nod of the woman’s head and a rather tired look.

“My father says I do. Talk incessantly, I mean. He’s not the only one either. A lot of people say that. I guess it’s because I feel like conversation is the best way to pass the time when there isn’t anything else to do.”

The warrior rolled her eyes and sighed. It seemed nothing short of cutting the girl’s tongue from her mouth would stop the endless stream of words that flowed forth like a geyser. She gave the younger woman a discreet look, sizing her up once again. About five-foot-seven with long, dark auburn hair and hazel eyes. Soft features, those of a village girl who’d never really had to fight and obviously couldn’t if her very life depended on it. Still, she had seen no sign of Demon Infection when she’d searched for it the day before.

Her Avatar cooed to her that maybe they’d missed something, and the girl was a new kind of Demon Seed. Perhaps, it whistled, she could sap a person’s life by talking to them. The warrior hushed it before it got carried away, something it was prone to doing.

None the less, she had to wonder why Father had seen fit to return her to the Middle World at that precise time and place. What could possibly be so important about this annoying girl that Ramor had seen fit to have her saved? The warrior shook her head and smiled to herself. She should’ve learned in the ten years she had lived in her Father’s Divine Palace that he always had a reason for what he did and could see things beyond what she could.