The Call (5 page)

Serdra watched her a bit longer as if assuring herself that her words were being heeded.

“Do you understand?”

Katja nodded. She would keep this in mind.

Then she felt her mouth come to life and grinned.

“So you're saying I
might
beat you?”

Serdra didn't answer. At least not with words. But her own smile said plenty. It put Katja in mind of a predator.

Serdra put both hands on the wooden sword and brandished it.

“Let's see what you can do.”

“I'll try not to hurt you, old woman,” Katja said with entirely false confidence. She saw how skilfully the woman handled the stick, and thought about how she'd slaughtered the monsters when they first met and how those rock-hard muscles felt to the touch.

“That's nice of you,” Serdra said and attacked.

She crossed the distance in an instant and Katja narrowly managed to deflect the blow Serdra aimed at her head, and the next one... except that turned out to be a feint. The wooden blade hit her in the gut and Katja lost her breath but struck back. Serdra dodged it, moved to Katja's side before she could react and smacked her in the back.

Katja fell forward, turned around on the ground and tried to stand up.

Serdra kicked her in the chest, and Katja fell on her back. Serdra's next blow landed on Katja's fingers so she lost her grip on the stick. Then the woman pressed the tip of her own weapon against her throat.

Katja lay on the ground, limp and breathless with the 'sword point' over an artery, and tried to put together what had just happened and how it had happened so quickly.

“Well, what do you say now?” Serdra asked.

“I'll... get you... one day,” Katja gasped, and managed to smile through the pain.

Serdra smiled.

Chapter
3.

Katja gathered firewood and grass while Serdra took a throwing stick from her luggage and headed north in search of food. She had filled the bed, lit the fireplace and recovered from the beating when Serdra returned with five dead ptarmigans and a bucket full of water. The clay jars turned out to contain rye, so they could fry themselves some wafers.

The older woman plucked and gutted the birds and Katja tied thin twigs to one of the spears and used it as a broom.

She thought to herself that she could have done chores at home, but didn't bother saying it out loud. She did prefer a relatively clean home if she was to stay here.

“For how long are you planning to stay here anyway?” Katja asked as she swept the gathered dust and dirt out the door.

“That depends on you and the Call,” Serdra answered. “But I'm hoping to spend the winter months here and leave as soon as it thaws.” She put a pot of water over the fire. “Do you have someplace you need to be?”

Katja looked for the right answer for a few moments before realizing the woman had been teasing her.

Serdra starting cutting meat from the ptarmigans and dropped it into the pot. Katja leaned the spear-broom up against a wall and picked up the sword Serdra had unpacked.

She tested the weight in her hands and then slowly unsheathed it. The blade truly showed no sign of having been used and Katja realized this was the first time she had seen a brand new sword.

“Do I get to keep this?” she asked distractedly.

“Yes.”

Katja assumed a pose with the sword as Hjalmar had shown her and felt a thrill course though her. She would be the first person to truly wield it.

She had always been fascinated by swords above all other weapons. Perhaps because they only had one purpose. They hadn't been invented to cut bread, or hunt animals or use in competitions or felling trees. They were for
fighting
. Fighting men. And monsters too, apparently. The fact evoked a certain awe within her, as towards a large fire.

And now she owned one for herself.
Owned
it.

The ceiling was low but Katja could still take some swings and quickly developed a great fondness for her new weapon.

She both felt and saw from the corner of her eye how Serdra observed her and  suspected the woman was further assessing her abilities.

“Do lions still roam Baldur's Coast?” Serdra asked after dropping the last of the meat into the pot.

Katja looked at her and sheathed the sword.

“Well, the occasional beast, I'm told. But farmers mostly complain about wolves these days. Why?”

“I was merely wondering about our competition. We should be able to find wild goats here in these hills. They will make for bigger meals than birds.”

“
Entire
goats? Just how much salt do you have?” Katja asked and reverentially placed the sword up against the wall.

“There is a smokehouse behind the cabin,” Serdra said and was suddenly standing behind Katja. She grabbed her shoulder and triggered Katja's reflexes. Serdra caught the elbow that shot at her in the iron grip from the other day and yanked the girl up against her. Then she quickly moved her grip to the upper arm and squeezed.

“What are you-!?”

Serdra released her.

“You have decent working muscles,” she said calmly and went back to the cooking pot. “But you can improve them with some effort.” She stirred in a bit of salt. “None of us is a weakling but there is always room for improvement.”

“Do you have to sneak up on me?!”

“How else can I teach you alertness?”

“Aler-!”

Katja fell silent but grumbled on the inside. Was she to watch everything all the day always?

“I will make you as dangerous as you can be,” Serdra said with one of those brief little smiles of hers. “But being a good fighter is of little use if it's easy to stab you in the back.”

Katja wanted to say something but couldn't think of any good counter points.

“And speaking of your back, let me see the cuts,” Serdra added.

“And so turn my back on you?” Katja asked snarkily.

Serdra just watched her stoically and Katja gave in. She lifted her jacket and shirt and took off the breast wraps.

Serdra examined the wounds for a bit and Katja was entirely unprepared for the woman touching them. She jerked away but Serdra's fingers just followed until they'd stroked all the way across her back.

“What did the healer tell you?” she asked.

“That I,” Katja hesitated a moment to stifle a pained gasp, “should take it easy for a few days, would be good after maybe ten days but could expect scarring.”

“No. We do not scar. I told you all our wounds heal perfectly and I meant it. Bad wounds do leave marks but those fade away in time.”

Katja put the wraps back on and thought of the ugly scars in Hjalmar's face and those of the hunters who had been mauled by lions or boars. Scars were mementoes of experiences, but the vain portion of her soul rejoiced at these news.

They sat on the bed and ate boiled ptarmigan and drank water from cups which Serdra took from one of the chests.

It was good to have warm food within her, and Katja felt a sudden assault of weariness.

“Did you mean to... do... anything tonight?” she asked.

“One little thing, but it doesn't involve you,” Serdra replied. “Get some sleep. We will start early tomorrow.”

Serdra stepped outside without further explanation and Katja gratefully let herself melt into the bed. She quickly fell asleep with the crackling of the fire in her ears and didn't wake up when Serdra returned.

--------------------

They awoke and ate leftover ptarmigan at the break of dawn and then washed with the remaining water.

Katja couldn't wait and the feeling got stronger every time she saw Serdra look her way. They were both rested, sated and were alone up on a fell with plenty of time. The day would be interesting.

“I need to tend the horse a bit,” Serdra announced as she adjusted her white and brown ponytail. “Go fetch more water.” She indicated her head towards the two buckets. “The horse needs watering. As will you, soon enough.”

“Are you going to ride me a few circles?” Katja asked with her grin and finished with her own coal-black hair. She had shortened it the other day so it only reached her shoulder blades and now tied it in a bun.

“Would it teach you manners?”

“No.”

“Then I won't bother.”

Katja poured the very last of the water in a trough for the horse and walked off with a bucket on each shoulder. She used the trip to ponder why the cabin had been built some distance from the lake. Perhaps sorcerers just enjoyed walks. She also spotted berries among the scrubs and wondered how Serdra would take a suggestion to gather berries before the first freeze. She didn't plan to subsist entire on meat and rye, did she?

She arrived at the little lake, filled the buckets and drank straight from the source since she was there. She dried her lips with the back of her hand and looked up the slopes. She now saw just how tall they really were, and was surprised at how they could be hidden from people. She once again thought of her first conversation with Serdra.

Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised at where things can lie hidden,
she thought.
Given my situation.

She wobbled back with the buckets. She managed to keep splashing to a minimum, but the buckets were annoyingly big. At least it would mean fewer trips for refills.

When she returned Serdra had laid one of the blankets in front of the cabin and arranged weapons on it. She stood over them with her arms crossed and her gaze on Katja.

Katja watered the horse, put the buckets inside and walked to the blanket.

She recognised her sword, the bow as well as some arrows, the throwing stick and a knife which had been in Serdra's luggage, but the rest seemed to have come from the chests: A shorter sword, a battle axe, a throwing axe and an iron-rimmed shield.

“Is there anything here you haven't handled before?” Serdra asked after a brief silence.

“That,” Katja said and pointed at the throwing axe. She had only seen such weapons in the belts of travellers. “But I am good at throwing knives and javelins. I won every throwing contest for the last two years. I'm not quite as good with bows, but still pretty good. I also do alright with those,” she said and pointed at the throwing stick. “But are they used for anything besides birds?”

“Not usually. But they can still be effective against people if you hit a head, a hand or a knee. Of course it's usually better to use something with an edge, but... well, there is another universal lesson you must keep in mind.”

“Oh?”

“Anything in the world can be a weapon.
Anything
. It just depends on how clever you are about making use of your environment. I mean to teach you traditional methods of killing men and devils, but you must also know how to react to unexpected situations with something unexpected. I once killed a man with a bucket after losing my weapon, and then overcame another one with a frozen arm.”

She reached behind herself and took four linen strips from her belt.

“Training will sharpen your reaction and precision, but don't chain yourself utterly to what you get taught. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

Serdra nodded and tossed two strips to Katja. She then began tying one of them around her own hand.

“I'll start by teaching you the basics: What's always available to you, regardless of weapons.”

She wrapped her other hand so her fingers stuck out and punched herself in the palm.

Katja smiled a bit and began wrapping her own hands.

“Do fists harm monsters?”

“Normally not. You'll of course have to ensure you always have a weapon within reach, but sometimes it may be beyond your control. But you know very well they harm humans.”

“So do weapons,” Katja said, though she wasn't protesting.

“Yes, but you might have to defeat someone you don't want to kill, or not have time to draw a weapon. Women with swords are also not as common as before, and some men won't take you seriously until you've knocked them about a bit.”

“The boys took me seriously,” Katja said and smiled at various memories. “I gave them no alternative.”

“Were you a total thug?” Katja asked and limbered up.

“A thug? It's not my fault if someone is too proud to stick their tail between their legs when they ought to.”

“Hm.”

Katja finished wrapping her hands and looked up. Serdra immediately punched her between the eyes. Katja landed hard on her back.

“You must
listen
,” Serdra said and took steps back. “You perception warns you of such things. Let it guide you.”

Katja whipped herself up and attacked.

Serdra kicked her in the chest. It was a hard blow and she staggered backwards, but managed to stay upright. Serdra came after her. Katja tried to throw a punch, but Serdra caught her arm, twisted it and kicked the legs out from under her.

Katja hit the ground again, now face down. She saw Serdra aim a kick her way, rolled to side and sprang to her feet.

She went back on the offensive and already felt the pain begin to move into the background where it wouldn't distract her. She hadn't brawled for three months and it
felt so good
to let herself loose.

Serdra took a defensive pose with her fists up and alternatively dodged or blocked Katja's punches. Katja grumbled with frustration over never connecting and Serdra began hitting back with quick, light jabs which usually hit their mark. Katja was getting dazed but kept on going.

She tried to kick Serdra in the shin, but the woman kicked back and the bones met with full force. Katja's leg buckled and she couldn't react to the jaw punch Serdra followed with.

Katja lost her balance and Serdra kept attacking. Katja tried to create space with a wide swing but Serdra caught her arm again and used the momentum to throw Katja back onto the ground.

Katja landed on her stomach and Serdra wrenched the arm behind her.

“Having fun?” the woman asked quietly.

“Yes!”

“I know.”

Katja got her legs around the arm holding her. She yanked and was able to free herself. She got up once again.

“Good!” Serdra said and Katja got the feeling she had allowed the escape.

Katja charged at her again despite the dizziness and tried to get a hold of her. Serdra punched her in the ribs and the ear.

Katja staggered and Serdra relaxed her stance.

“Well, this will do for now. I can see what I need to teach you.”

Katja attacked and Serdra kicked her in the stomach. She fell to her knees.

“Enough, I said,” Serdra said with a bit of strictness and Katja saw she wasn't even winded.