Sword Masters (12 page)

"Oh, would you just come on!" Darian smiled in spite of himself. "You two bring constant shame upon my head!"

* * *

The next three days were rough. Tarius didn't get much sleep. Arvon shit himself at least a dozen times, and Tarius had to clean him. Each time a humiliated Arvon apologized and Tarius told him to forget it. Tarius forced liquids down Arvon and wiped his brow with cool water. When the fever got too high, Tarius swabbed Arvon's entire body to bring his temperature down. Just before dawn on the third day, the fever finally broke. Arvon had been talking out of his head for most of the night, but as the first lights of dawn slid in the surgery's upper window, Arvon spoke clearly and crisply, startling Tarius out of a near sleep. Tarius rose from the chair she'd been sleeping in and went to Arvon's side.

He was looking at the light that streamed in the window. "My mother was a creature of infinite wisdom and beauty. I often wondered what she saw in my father, who was but a plain and simple farmer." He turned to look at Tarius. "She used to say that in the mists of a fever you saw crazy things, but you also sometimes saw things the way they truly were. Now this is a funny thing you see, because I always believed that I got all of my father's traits and none of my mother's. Yet last night I was sure I saw my own dead mother."

"That's not too odd. I often see my parents in my dreams," Tarius said.

"Ah! But this was odd because I wasn't asleep at the time, and I was looking at you," Arvon said thoughtfully.

Tarius laughed. "Now that is rich. You mistook me for your mother?"

Arvon nodded, troubled now, and not sure of the thought he had been so sure of only moments before. He went on with quiet deliberation. "Yes. I thought you were my mother because, for a moment, you looked just like her."

Tarius left Arvon's side and went to get the glass of water she had drawn earlier.

"See, I haven't told anyone this, but my mother was Kartik," Arvon said.

"Ah! I thought I noticed a bit of the island in your features," Tarius said. "See, I knew we were brothers in more ways than one."

"Well, yes, that's just the thing. Because, you see, my mother said she was Kartik, but in reality she was of a much older people." Arvon looked at Tarius hard then, although Tarius didn't notice, being too occupied with trying to get the overfull glass of water to Arvon. It was too much trouble, so Tarius stopped to take a sip. "You see, Tarius, my mother was the Katabull."

The glass fell away from Tarius's mouth and crashed on the floor, sending pottery shards everywhere. Tarius looked at Arvon in stunned silence.

"Well that explains why the arrow did so much damage," Tarius said.

"So. Was my vision right, Tarius? Are you, the greatest swordsman of the Jethrik, the Katabull?"

Tarius sat on the edge of Arvon's bed carefully. "Yes, I am the Katabull."

"And are you a man or a woman?"

"Did you mean the oath you swore to me?"

"Yes, I did," Arvon said.

"Then yes, I am a woman," Tarius said cautiously.

"Does Jena know?" Arvon asked, lowering his voice still more.

Tarius's features took on a tortured look as she answered. "No. She's young and inexperienced; she knows nothing of the Kartik people, and I make up things about our culture and my religion to cover myself and my methods."

"Do you love her?" Arvon asked.

"With all my heart and with all my soul."

"How long do you think you can fool her, Tarius? How long can you fool everyone including yourself? It's a dangerous game, my sister."

"I know that. But I've made love to her, and she was none the wiser. "

"And what about you? How long are you going to be happy to never have her touch you?" Arvon asked quietly.

"I can't deny my longing for her touch, but I would do anything, absolutely anything, no matter what the sacrifice, to be with her," Tarius said.

"What happens when she wants more than you can give her, Tarius?" Arvon asked gently. "She thinks you're a man."

"I am a man in every way that matters," Tarius said. "I look like a man. I fight like a man. I can satisfy her. What else does she need?"

"
It
my friend. Eventually she's going to want
it
, and you ain't got
it
."

"I'll worry about
it
when the time comes," Tarius said. "I have to live for today. None of us may have tomorrow. I know it's wrong to deceive her. I tried to run her off—you know that I did. But she wouldn't go. Look at it this way. Any other man here would make her miserable, tie her up and gag her. Only with me can she be the person that she truly is."

"I'm not judging you, my dear friend. I only know what happens when one tries to live in a web of lies. Eventually one strand comes down, and then the whole weaving falls in on itself. Only know this; if there should come a day when that should happen to you, I will be there for you in any way that I can be."

Two months later they were graduating, and Arvon walked to the ceremony. Everyone said it was a miracle.

The ceremony bored Tarius almost as much as the new uniforms annoyed her. She longed to be back in the black leather she'd grown up in instead of the blue and white gambeson and chain mail shirts with metal pauldrons they were issued. It was cumbersome and noisy. They had practiced in it for months, and she was used to it, but knew she could do better without it.

Jena met her directly after the ceremony, threw her arms around Tarius, and they hugged. Jena made a face. Apparently she didn't like the armor any more than Tarius did. They started walking towards the courtyard away from the great hall. Most of the new Swordmasters would be going home with their families for a massive celebration. Tragon's family had big plans; he'd been telling them about it for weeks. Family and friends had come from all over the kingdom, and they would be having a three-day feast.

There would be no such celebration for the orphaned Tarius. They would save their celebrating for the next month when she and Jena would be married. Tarius wasn't looking forward to that ceremony and would be glad to have it over with. The ceremony would make Jena happy and the sooner the better. Tarius knew she and Tragon would be sent on their internship soon afterwards, and the way things looked now they would spend their "internship" on the front.

Harris rushed to catch up to the couple. He squeezed in between them, putting an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Are we going to fight?" he asked eagerly.

"I hadn't thought of it," Tarius said. She looked around Harris at Jena. "What do you say?"

"I have to change; I'll meet you there." Jena dislodged herself from Harris and ran off towards her father's house.

Harris looked down at his feet suddenly.

"So, what's on your mind?" Tarius asked, she could read him like a book.

"You'll be going away soon," he said.

"But I'll be back," Tarius said. "My wife will be here, and you my brother, you are my family now, Harris."

Harris nearly glowed then, and her words seemed to give him the courage to say what was on his mind. "You're a knight, Tarius, you should really have a squire."

Tarius felt like an absolute idiot. This was quite obviously what the boy had been hinting at for weeks. It hadn't occurred to her before now, because she simply didn't think in those terms. "So I am. I suppose I should really have a squire then, and since I have already trained you and know you to be as fine and good a person as I have ever known, and as good with a sword as any Swordmaster, I suppose you should be my squire."

The boy pulled back, took Tarius's shoulders in his hands and looked her square in the eyes, "Do you mean it, Tarius?"

"Yes, my brother, I do."

* * *

Darian saw Jena run into the back of the house in a beautiful gown befitting the fiancée of a knight and Swordmaster. A short while later, he saw her come out in something that looked like it had been cast off by a scullery maid. He wondered what she was up to, and having nothing else to do for once, he followed her.

* * *

Jena ran into the field and happily picked up her weapon. Tarius had been letting her spar with Harris, but today Tarius was going to spar with Harris first and he told Jena so. Jena looked somewhat disappointed. She sat on a log and watched Tarius bend over and shed the hated chain mail.

"Don't worry, my love, your time will come," Tarius said with a smile.

Jena smiled seductively, "You know I hate waiting."

* * *

Darian heard the familiar sound of practice swords. Up ahead of him he could just make out a clearing. As he got closer he could see Tarius and Harris fighting with Jena sitting to the side watching them. From the looks of the well-beaten dirt they played here hard and often. There was no doubt that the crippled boy no one had wanted had turned into a fine swordsman. His daughter seemed totally wrapped up in what Harris and Tarius were doing. She was happy, and thank the gods she had found someone who not only accepted the fact that she wasn't cultured but actually appreciated it.

Then something happened that literally made him weak in the knees. Jena took up a blade and started to fight with her intended. What was more, from the way she fought it was obvious that this wasn't the first time she'd had a blade in her hand. He watched with feelings of both dread and pride.

But it was so wrong! Women weren't supposed to take up steel. It was an unwritten but widely understood law. Women made life, they weren't supposed to take it. It went against the very laws of nature.

But she was good. Damn good, and not just for a girl. She was graceful and strong. She knew where to throw a blow, and when she went against Harris instead of Tarius she matched him blow for blow.

Darian watched them practice for several minutes. Then the youngsters took a break. Jena and Harris sat on the downed log and Tarius lay on the ground with his head in Jena's lap. Jena looked at the lad, and her love for him shone through every fiber of her being. It had been years since anyone had looked at him like that. Not since Jena's mother had died, leaving him to raise their baby daughter as well as he could.

He was a man, he knew nothing of raising babies or young women, but Jena was all that he had of her mother, and he couldn't bear to be parted from her. He'd done the best he could, but it was no small wonder the girl acted the way she did or even that she had a lust for steel. She had grown up in a swordsman's academy for the gods' sake! What chance did she have to learn to be a lady? A few weeks at her aunt's whenever Darian thought she was becoming too wild and woolly. Ruefully, he realized that it hadn't been enough. Not if he really wanted Jena to be a lady of refinement like her mother.

But Jena was happy, and she'd found a man who accepted her for all that she was. Who loved her for the person she was, and not what he could make of her.

Darian should stomp into the field and condemn the three of them. He should order Jena to stop these lessons. He should let Tarius have it for inflicting his strange ways on his daughter. And he should give Harris living hell for helping and for keeping their secret from him. Truth was, he just didn't feel like it.

It would be an act, a show, inflicting on them what he knew other people expected. Truth was, he was proud of all of them. Besides he doubted very seriously that either Jena or Tarius would bow to his wishes or even pretend to, no they'd argue with him and he just wasn't up for it. Quietly, he turned and walked back to the house without saying a word. It was easier to pretend like he didn't know.

* * *

Tarius now lived in the house with Darian and Jena, and most mornings found Jena mysteriously missing from her bed. Darian knew if he looked in Tarius's bed he'd find her there, so he just didn't look.

It was early on a weekend morning, so the banging on the door aroused him from his sleep. It was a messenger from the king. He handed a note to Darian, clicked his heels and left.

The letter was for Tarius, and Darian feared what it was. He stopped outside Tarius's door, and he heard what sounded like scuffling coming from the other side. Knowing those two, it was just as likely that they were wrestling as making love.

He knocked on the door, and it was suddenly quiet on the other side. In a few seconds Tarius opened the door a crack. Seeing it was Darian he walked out, fully dressed—if obviously hastily so—his sword on his back. He closed the door quickly so that Darian shouldn't see into the room.

Darian handed Tarius the message, and Tarius opened it carefully. He read the letter twice to make sure.

"Well?" Darian asked impatiently.

"The troops morale is at an all-time low. The king will ride into battle and take over command of our forces. He wants me to serve beside him. To command." He looked up from the paper. "Tragon and I will leave with the king at the end of this next week."

Darian was surprised. Tarius seemed less than pleased with the honor. Then he saw the boy's eyes go back to the closed door and knew why.

"Harris will be going with us," Tarius said thoughtfully.

Darian nodded. "I had expected as much. It's Jena you're worried about."

"I want to marry her tonight," Tarius said quickly. "That will give us a week together as husband and wife. I don't plan to die. But if I should, I don't want to leave her unmarried with no pension." Tarius added almost to himself, "Damn it all, she has ruined everything."

"Why's that?"

Tarius looked at him and smiled. "Because before her all I ever loved was my steel. All I ever longed for was battle and a chance to revenge myself on my enemies. Now none of it matters to me as much as just being able to look at her."

Darian smiled. "I thought as much. May the gods watch over the man who comes up against one who has everything to live for. I will get the Shaman; you tell Jena." He motioned his head knowingly at Tarius's door, and Tarius blushed.

"I don't ask her to come to me; she just does," Tarius said in an embarrassed tone.

"I know. After this evening it won't really matter where she's been sleeping these last few weeks." He smiled and left.