Heart of a Lion

Book One of the Dark Sun Dawn Trilogy

Stephen Zimmer

Copyright © 2015 by Stephen Zimmer

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be copied or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise, without express written consent of the publisher or author.

Cover art: Bonnie Wasson

Cover art in this book copyright © 2015 Bonnie Wasson & Seventh Star Press, LLC.

Editor: Scott M. Sandridge

Published by Seventh Star Press, LLC.

Stephen Zimmer’s logo created by Elizabeth Lowery

ISBN Number: 978-1-941706-23-7

Seventh Star Press

www.seventhstarpress.com

info@seventhstarpress.com

Publisher’s Note:

Heart of a Lion is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are the product of the author’s imagination, used in fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, places, locales, events, etc. are purely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Bonnie Wasson for taking on the challenge of creating the first image of Rayden Valkyrie. Bonnie is a wonderfully talented artist and a very dear individual to me, and it is a great honor to have her incredible talent on the cover of the first Rayden Valkyrie book. She delivered the magic just as I knew she would.

I would like to thank Scott Sandridge, my editor on this novel. Knowing how Scott has a passion for the genre and is very versed in it, I had the greatest of confidence in the care he had for this project.

I would like to thank Susan Roddey, whose encouragement and nudges during a difficult period leading into 2014 helped to get me back on track with my writing. The project I immersed into was this very book, as both Susan and Rayden helped me find my way forward again creatively. Susan is a true friend and I’m very grateful to have this special gal in my world.

I would also like to thank dear friends such as Robin Blankenship, Christina Butcher, Amanda Parks, and Eric and Kylie Jude, who helped me stay the course during times of storm.

I always will thank my mother, who I miss each and every day. She opened my eyes to the world of fantasy fiction and creative writing. Her encouragement and support throughout the years truly guided me to the path I am on now.

I want to thank my loyal readers. I put my best into any book that I turn into an editor as nothing less is acceptable for the readers who buy and read my work. My readers motivate me to push harder always to grow as a writer, as we take this wild and crazy storytale journey together.

Dedication

To the Power underlying this and all Universes.

To my mother and father for making my road possible.

To my sister for the gift of family.

To Elizabeth for bringing the sun back into my skies.

Chapter 1

Hooking her arm around his body, Rayden snatched the boy off his feet. Carrying him forward she dived to the ground, a massive set of jaws erupting from the waters just behind her.

Snapping down on empty space, the river predator found itself denied what should have been easy quarry. The creature swung its elongated head toward her and the child, locking its gaze upon them.

Rayden got her feet under her and with the boy in her grasp ran up the bank. She knew the great speed of the reptilian giants inhabiting the rivers of the Mystic Kingdom. The monstrosities could chase down a person on land.

Focusing all her energy on gaining distance from the river, she bounded forward with all the haste she could muster. She did not spare a glance over her shoulder until they were far away from the river’s edge.

Seeing no sign of pursuit, she slowed, before finally setting the wide-eyed boy down on the ground. Catching her breath, she watched the monster turning and slipping back into the river. The creature drifted along the gleaming surface, beginning its search for other prey.

“Never trust the waters!” Rayden snapped at the boy, turning her attention back to the child. “You would have been eaten had I not seen that monster coming for you!”

“He doesn’t know what you are saying,” Ammanus said to her calmly, from where he had stood watching the entirety of the rescue.

“I am sure he understands the idea,” Rayden replied to her companion with a surly edge. Adrenaline still raced through her veins and the chill of another close call with death lingered in her heart.

The boy was staring toward the river with eyes glistening from terror. His body trembled and she had no doubt he realized just how close his brush with death had been.

She had seen the giant crocodile from higher above, moving in slowly under the water’s surface towards the unaware boy playing by the riverside. Had the water been cloudier, she might not have perceived the approaching danger.

Even then, she had gotten to the boy just in time. An instant later and one of them would have been dragged back into the waters, clenched in the massive jaws of the river predator.

Hot from the sun and exertion, rivulets of sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes until she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She looked into the blue skies draped above. Barely a cloud to be seen, a few wisps of white drifted here and there.

“I won’t be needing the pelt,” she remarked, looking back to Ammanus. “You can keep it in your care.”

A gift of the tribal people far to the south, the great desert cat’s skin had been hard won in battle. Killing the long-fanged beast had been difficult enough. Surviving the massive battle that took place soon after had been nothing short of miraculous.

The dark-skinned people of the far southern lands had been fascinated with her lighter complexion, having never seen anyone from as far to the north as Rayden. By the time she departed they called her the White Lightning, in honor of her prowess in hunting and on the battlefield.

Even the little, elderly tribal shaman, whose visions had driven him to the northern coast to seek out her help, had appeared awed by what she had done. Her axe drank from the blood of a dangerous predator that had savaged the tribe for years. Not long after, her sword imbibed the blood of a king, one whose warriors outnumbered that of the tribe she aided by more than five to one.

Now the time had come at last to return to the northern lands, across the Great Sea. She had a visit with a sorcerer on her mind, one who would experience her ire in a highly physical manner if she could lay her hands upon him.

“I would have to say it is most unfortunate that you need a tunic,” Ammanus remarked, grinning with a look of mischief.

Rayden cast him a sharp glare. “Walk with caution, Ammanus. Your tongue can still get you in trouble.”

“It is ill of me to fail to recognize a beautiful, amazing woman, even if she can slay me in an instant,” Ammanus retorted, smiling wider.

Shaking her head, a grin came to her lips. For all his perversions, he never failed to amuse her. “What am I to do with you, Ammanus?”

Hearing panic-laden shouts, Rayden looked up to see a woman hurrying toward them. She made a great commotion, arms extended wide and looking toward the boy Rayden had just saved. Her face reflected a mix of fear and relief, announcing her identity at once.

“The mother returns … I shall handle this,” Ammanus said, turning to face the incoming pair.

“Better you than me,” Rayden said evenly. “My words to her would not be so measured. Foolish woman, allowing her own child to play unwatched at a river holding such monsters.”

After clutching the boy fast to her, the woman looked at Ammanus and Rayden with a mixture of anxiety and defensiveness. Ammanus spoke quickly with her in the regional tongue, gesturing back toward the river at one point in the conversation.

He then indicated Rayden with a nod. From his hand motions she could tell that he was describing the scaly river hunter and her rescue of the boy.

As Ammanus spoke, the woman’s expression began to soften. Not long after, the mother walked toward Rayden. Clasping her right hand, the woman began speaking in a lower voice.

“She is thanking you, for what you did for her boy,” Ammanus said in the way of translation. “She understands now.”

“Tell her she is welcome,” Rayden said, feeling awkward as the woman continued her expression of gratitude. “But tell her to heed the dangers in the water. One like me may not be around the next time.”

Ammanus paused for a moment and then translated. The woman nodded her head emphatically and Rayden hoped she took the warning to heart. It only took one lowering of her guard for the mother to lose the boy to one of the river monsters in the future.

The woman then took the boy away and started for the village she had come from. Rayden watched them walking together for a few moments, remembering a time long ago when she felt the arm of a mother around her shoulders. Those days seemed so ephemeral and distant, little more than the fading mist of a dream.

Looking back to Ammanus, she said. “It is time to resume our journey.”

Together, they continued on their way, shadowing the course of the river. When the day grew late, the river curved to the left, where it eventually merged with a much larger channel of water.

“Ah, the Queen’s River, the city is not far away now,” Ammanus stated, looking relieved at the sight of the confluence. “Before the next sun sets we will see its walls.”

“It had better not be far,” Rayden said. “I intend to have a hot meal and a roof over my head soon.”

“Ah, that would be very welcome,” Ammanus said. “Perhaps a few things more.”

“I have had enough of all this dust and heat,” Rayden replied, ignoring the second part of his statement.

“How long will we stay in the city?” Ammanus asked.

“I need to find passage to the west, to Kartajen,” Rayden said. “From there we can find passage across the Great Sea ... if you would like to continue with me. I have not changed my mind. I am returning to the north.”

She eyed her dark-skinned friend, who always seemed to have a smile shining through his thick black beard. She found in him a kindred spirit, in that he also sought to journey to distant lands.

They had been through so many trials already, sharing the kind of bond that could not be easily broken. It was one of the reasons she refrained from laying him out with a hard punch following some of his more lascivious remarks.

“I would like to see the lands of the north,” he said, nodding. He then chuckled. “I could be the interesting one among your people, as you were the interesting one among mine. They have probably not witnessed one with dark skin where you are from.”

“They would find you interesting, without a doubt,” Rayden said. “Though I am afraid your tongue would get you in trouble fast.”

“Or it would win me much affection, when it is known how good I am with it,” he responded with a wink, causing her to roll her eyes.

“You may well get in trouble with me before you ever get there,” she admonished him.

“I like to live, is that so bad?” he asked, his broad face radiant with a big smile.

“No, it’s not, and it’s one reason I actually like you,” Rayden said. “Consider yourself fortunate. I do not declare such things often.”

“One day I will have many women gathered around me to hear my tales of traveling with the great Rayden Valkyrie,” he said. “And I will always thank you when I am in their beds and between their thighs.”

“I would hope you do not think of me then,” Rayden said. She shook her head, looked at him for a moment and broke into laughter. “I will say you are good for me. In some strange way that I cannot define, you are good for me.”

“I know I make you laugh,” he said, winking again.

“We all need a little laughter in our lives, that is true,” Rayden conceded.

“It makes the time pass faster, does it not?” Ammanus asked.

“Time does not pass fast enough when thoughts of a bed and a warm meal occupy the mind,” Rayden said.

“Not much longer,” Ammanus said. “The Divine City will come into sight soon enough. One more night under the stars, then you will have a roof over your head.”

***

Though well past midday, the heat of the sun bathed the massive walls of great stone blocks surrounding the Divine City. The heart of the Mystic Kingdom sprawled along the banks of the Queen’s River. The gleaming currents flowed on their course toward the great delta to the north, where crops thrived within an abundance of rich, black soil.

Great pyramidal tombs loomed in the distance, the final resting places of the land’s greatest rulers. Looking as if poised to spear the underbelly of the sky, the giant constructs reflected the splendor of the longstanding, and often mysterious, realm.

As breathtaking as many of the sights were, Rayden never forgot for a moment that the veneer of awe-inspiring regality covered a pervasive brutality and indifference to most. The Divine City teemed with slaves and the poverty-laden conducting backbreaking labor at the whim of soft-skinned masters. Cruel overseers and guards drove with the lash what no man or woman would have consented to.

Seeking to placate one or more of the animal-headed gods of the Mystic Kingdom’s sizeable pantheon, the elite class commanded the building of grand edifices and temples. Whips, toil, blood and death plagued the servile unfortunates compelled to raise the massive wonders.

Still, a few graces were afforded even the poorest. Under the rule of Mahu, a man who claimed deification, a time of relative peace transpired. Content to indulge in the opulence of his great palaces, he showed little inclination to war or placing additional burdens on the populace. Aside from skirmishes along the borders, little troubled the people of the Mystic Kingdom.

For the land’s inhabitants, a time of thriving trade and stability endured. The river traffic thick, great barges, sailing vessels, and small fishing boats alike plied the waters. Mahu himself often traveled the Queen’s River on one of his luxurious barges, visiting temples, oracles, and palaces in the kingdom’s southern regions.

Trading caravans from the desert lands to the east, ships from across the great sea and merchants from the lands to the south flocked to the Divine City to sell their wares. A bustling, polyglot center of activity, the city harbored all sorts of dangers, pleasures, and opportunities.

A large, arched gateway flanked by two stout towers led into the city. A pair of spear-carrying men stood before the entrance, while several others could be seen atop the towers above. Bare of chest, with their medium-length hair cut even to each side of straight bangs, the guards wore only a white garment to cover their bodies from waist to knees.

The guards eyed those entering the city with dispassionate expressions. Their gazes lingered upon Rayden and Ammanus, but the pair gave the travelers no trouble in passing through the gate.

Inside the walls, the pulse of the Divine City resonated in the crowded streets and open-air markets. Wealthy buyers perused cages containing exotic wild animals, while clusters of olive-skinned women in opulent garb evaluated a wide assortment of perfumes.

Eyeing a lion in one of the cages, a pang of sympathy struck Rayden. Its golden eyes met hers for only a moment, but in that brief connection she sensed its fear and loneliness.

A part of her wanted to set her axe upon the cage’s lock and free the trapped creature. It pained her to see such a proud and majestic beast confined for no reason other than the vanity of arrogant men and women.

She glared at one such individual, a small, balding man arguing with a merchant in strident tones. She had an inclination to grab the haughty figure and throw him against the lion’s cage.

In her mind’s eye she saw his petulance evaporating as he soiled his expensive clothes. The thought brought a grin to her lips.

She walked onward, shunning the temptation. She could not put reaching Kartajen in jeopardy, not when she could finally return to northern lands after the passing of almost three years.

Ammanus slowed when they passed stalls brimming with everything from rarer meats to wines. Hunger tugging inside, she cajoled him to continue forward.

Shadows beginning to lengthen, the day would come to an end soon enough. She wanted nothing more than to have a bed and meal at hand when night fell across the city.

At last they came upon a suitable inn and tavern. It had a well-tended appearance and did not seem to be the kind of place serving as a den for a band of thieves, or the other kinds of rogues often congregating in populous cities.

After making arrangements for a room to serve as their quarters while in the city, Rayden wasted no time in attending to her sorely famished state. Ammanus keeping her company, she ordered up a couple platters of food from the young girl serving the taverns few occupants. Sharing little conversation, the two of them finished every last scrap and morsel.

When they were done, Ammanus showed an eagerness to indulge in another kind of appetite. Far from surprised, Rayden bid him well, the only thought on her mind attaining a sheltered night of sleep on a mattress.

Making her way up a wooden staircase to the room, she settled down onto the straw-stuffed mattress, keeping her weapons close. Shutting her eyes and taking slow, relaxing breaths, she endeavored to leave the waking world behind and sojourn into the realm of dreams.

***

Tossing and turning, Rayden found that restful slumber proved elusive. The night crawled on and only the weariness in her body showed any mercy to her sleepless condition.

When fatigue overcame her at last, fitful, vivid dreams followed in its wake. Heartbeat pounding, she gazed upon a terrible, stark vision.

Northern warriors lying broken and bleeding littered the ground before a village immersed in flames. Withering heat beating against her face, Rayden looked around for any sign of life, but nothing stirred among the corpses.

Abruptly, the scene shifted. She found herself in woodlands steeped in the dark of night.

Scant moonlight filtered through the trees, shrouding everything in a deep murk. All around her, bestial growls sounded. Hulking, inhuman forms moved among the trees to the left and right.

Reaching down on instinct, she discovered that she had no weapons at her side. Sounds of movement through the underbrush continued, as did the growling chorus.

A deadly menace moved to surround her, mustering beyond the edge of sight and raising the hackles on her neck. She knew that if she waited even a few moments longer she would find herself in the gravest of peril.

Turning, she sprang forward and hurried through the woods, hearing the sounds of pursuit rushing through the undergrowth. Breaking out from the trees, she found herself in a large stretch of open ground.

In her haste she came close to tripping over a form lying in her path. She did not stop, though her breath caught in her throat as she took in the view ahead of her.

A great multitude of bodies lay strewn all over the field. Their garb and features told her they were northerners.

The animalistic sounds fading behind, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Nothing had followed her beyond the tree line. Having put a considerable distance between her and the woods, she slowed, seeking to conserve her energy.

A full moon above illuminated the field of dead warriors. Coming to a halt, Rayden stood in silence, keeping a wary eye on the forest.

After a moment, she stepped over to the body lying closest to her. She recoiled the moment she set her eyes upon the figure beneath her. Face revealed in the moonlight, the dully, glassy eyes of Eigon, chieftain of the Gessa, stared lifelessly back to her.

At that moment, a growling cacophony erupted within the trees. Bringing her eyes up, she held hundreds of pairs of glowing eyes in the shadows beneath the trees.

The bestial chorus swelled louder and it appeared as if the entire forest surged forward. Towering, humanoid figures charged out of the trees all across the dark facing of the woods.

Sitting upright, Rayden found herself back among the shadows of the room at the inn. Her face caked with sweat and breathing rapidly, she took a few moments to steady herself.

Ammanus had not returned yet, likely having found the kind of bed and company he desired. She fingered the timber haft of her axe, glad to feel the familiar touch after the jolting dream.

She thought about the horrific visions of blood and fire, wondering what prompted them. No worse nightmare could greet her than to see those she deemed most dear in her life lying dead.

The entities in the forest were a mystery. She had not gained a clear look at even one of the things. Perhaps they had been the wolf-men known to rove the wilds of the northern mountains, but something inside told her the shadow-cloaked figures were another kind of threat entirely.

She could only hope the dreams were not premonitions of any kind. No seer or prophetess, Rayden could only take comfort in the fact that countless nightmares in the past had proven to be nothing more than dark visions with no tether to the waking world.

Part of her wondered about the sorcerer whose words and counsel had led to the three-year odyssey she had endured and somehow survived. The thought of him using his arts to violate her dreams and send such a terrifying vision kindled a flame of anger inside.

Regaining her full composure, she lay back and stared at the rough-hewn timbers spanning the ceiling. Listening to the sounds of her breaths, she emptied her mind of the horrid dream images.

Falling unconscious a second time, she finally attained the state she sought, entering a restful slumber that lasted until morning’s light.

***

Aside from a brief stroll through a market area close to the inn, Rayden kept to the tavern while Ammanus investigated their options for traveling westward. The patronage sparse, only a pair of older men, other than the serving girl and the tavern master, shared the dusky space with her.

She liked it better that way. There would be far less chance of others’ stupidity inviting her fists.

Sipping on a tall cup of wine, she found herself missing the taste of northern ale. Rayden knew she had been in the south far too long. She longed for bounteous, mist-shrouded forests and great mountains, feeling the invigoration of crisp northern air within her lungs.

Inclined to spend all the coins remaining in her pouch if they could find a ship sailing to one of the northernmost ports, she knew she was not the one to negotiate terms of passage once they reached Kartajen. Ammanus knew her wishes well enough; that she wanted to cut short the journey by land as much as possible.

She reminded herself that they had not yet determined a path to Kartajen itself. Travel along the coast, even in lands under the authority of Kartajen or the Mystic Kingdom, could not be taken lightly.

Ammanus returned late in the afternoon, striding across the tavern floor with a bright grin on his face. He announced to Rayden before coming to a stop, “I bring you good news, Rayden Valkyrie. Luck has shined upon us this day! Your wonderful and cherished friend’s search has met with great success!”

“You have found a sorcerer who commands a roc that can fly us all the way to the tribal lands,” she replied, smirking. “Now that is indeed good news.”

He shook his head, laughing, but the smile he had entered with remained. “Nothing quite so good, my beautiful and dazzling blue-eyed friend, but you will be pleased. A large caravan departs in the morning for Kartajen. We arrived in the city just in time to join them.”

“Large you say?” Rayden asked, intrigued.

“Yes, the size of a small army, from the looks of it,” Ammanus said. “Many hundreds of camels to be used for riders, supplies, and goods are gathered outside the city walls. A strong force of guards will accompany them.”

“That is good news,” Rayden said, having feared they would endure a long tenure in the Divine City, awaiting precisely such a possibility.

Traveling along with the caravan would be worth the expense. Its large size warded strongly against most kinds of threats.

Only brigands attracted by the prospects of significant loot would seek to harass a caravan. From what Ammanus said, the one leaving in the morning sounded sizeable enough to fend off all but the largest bands of desert raiders.

“I have already agreed to the price asked,” Ammanus stated. “It will take a few coins from our pouches to join them, but we will receive steeds to ride.”

“Camels,” Rayden said with little enthusiasm. “I’ve not found them the most pleasant creatures to be around or ride. The smell of them is bad enough. But they are well-suited for the terrain we will go through.”

“Anything is better than walking all the way from here to Kartajen,” Ammanus remarked.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Rayden responded with a chuckle. “You may change your mind after a few days.”

“At least we are leaving tomorrow,” Ammanus said. “That is great news. No sitting around the city waiting days on end.”

“Now that is something I will drink to,” Rayden said, draining the last of her cup. Calling over the serving girl, she ordered another cup of wine for herself and one for Ammanus.

“Why thank you, Rayden, my news invokes welcome generosity,” Ammanus said, watching the serving girl walk off to get their wine.

“Take your eyes off her. You’ve time to visit a brothel before we go,” Rayden commented, grinning at the look in his eyes. “I know what’s on your mind.”

“Am I that easy to read?” Ammanus replied, laughing.

“When it comes to some things, most men are,” Rayden said. “Then again, women are no strangers to desire. Who knows if one I deem worthy to share my bed might come to the tavern tonight. Then you will have to find another place to sleep, my friend.”

“More likely the unworthy will end up with broken jaws, busted noses, missing teeth, or, if they are lucky, unconscious,” Ammanus retorted, rumbling with laughter.

Rayden gave him a mock look of indignation. “Am I that harsh? And here I thought I was a sweet maiden, eager to swoon over the kind of men that frequent taverns.” She laughed heartily. “Even so, a man has to earn the kind of treatment you describe from me.”

“Something I never desire to achieve then,” Ammanus said.

“I count you a friend, Ammanus, you would have to really go far to gain my ire,” Rayden said, shaking her head and laughing again.

The serving girl returned with cups of wine filled to the brim. Rayden paid her, adding a silver coin to the amount requested. The young girl’s eyes went wide and she thanked Rayden with a jubilant smile before leaving them.

“You are indeed feeling generous,” Ammanus said. “You just made her evening a great one, no matter how many louts she deals with.”

“She doesn’t get paid enough for having to endure what comes in here most nights,” Rayden said.

“And yet you like taverns,” Ammanus commented, shaking his head. “You perplex me at times.”

“Taverns have their good sides too,” Rayden said. “Food, drink, song, and ... once in a while, a man worth my interest.”

“My way is much easier,” Ammanus said. “I go to the brothel, look at many worth my interest, choose one, or maybe two, pay my coins, and all is good. Sometimes incredible!”

“Maybe it is better to have simpler ways,” Rayden replied, chuckling as she took a swig of wine.

Raising his cup, Ammanus said, “Let our travel west be simple and smooth. Come morning, we will be on our way.”

Rayden lifted her cup in response. “I’ll drink to that and commend your triumph on our behalf today!”

Together, they took long draughts from their cups. Outside, the shadows grew longer as night approached. That evening, no dark dreams tormented Rayden and Ammanus remained content to sleep at the inn, on a mattress by himself.

***

Rayden stood to the side of the extensive caravan, hundreds of camels arrayed in a line snaking far into the desert. The great city walls rising behind her, an open desert wilderness beckoned under bright skies that appeared to go onward forever.

The signal had not yet been given to depart. She stood on the ground, preferring the feel of solid earth under her feet for as long as possible.

Rayden did not relish the thought of riding all day on a camel. Yet she knew she had the right mount for the journey about to be taken.

The animals were accustomed to austere conditions, capable of great endurance, and they were strong bearers of both people and goods. All that mattered was getting to Kartajen and the less pleasant qualities of the beasts could be suffered for awhile.

At last, the call to begin the march westward passed down the line. Rayden walked over to the camel assigned to her, a younger animal that looked to be in good condition. Mounting up, she acclimated to the feel of her steed as the beast took its first steps forward.

Glancing behind her, she watched Ammanus sway in his saddle. Her lips carried a trace of a grin, knowing what kind of day he would be having. Before nightfall he would be complaining of discomfort and aches.

Rayden settled into her own saddle and cleared her thoughts. Ahead, Kartajen beckoned and beyond the sea her homelands awaited. Her return to the north could not come a moment too soon.

She longed to watch a sunset in the mountains, the majestic peaks cradling a reddish jewel under skies draped in purple. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the sweet kiss of northern winds.

She did not let the thoughts dwell long in her head, reminding herself to keep her focus. A long stretch of desert and journey of over forty days lay before her.

If all went well, enduring the merciless heat of day and the stench of camels would be the worst of it. She doubted things would go that smoothly, but each day would have to be taken one at a time, just as one step came before another.

Eventually, the journey would come to an end and the walls of Kartajen would rise before her. Once there, she would have to turn her thoughts toward gaining a passage by sea.

Even so, having a firm destination at the end of it all, one that she looked forward to reaching, would be a boon in moments of weariness and hardship. It had been a long time since the end of a journey carried a chance of welcome and joyful reunion.

Bloodshed, wars, monsters, and sorcerers had driven far too much of her life. Long overdue, the time to go where she wanted to go had come.

Chapter 2

After several days of uneventful travel, Rayden began noticing some women in the caravan exhibiting sharp changes in behavior. Where they had conversed, laughed, and talked during the beginning of the journey, a few among them had become subdued and nervous in manner.

They quickly looked away whenever their eyes met Rayden’s. She could sense their great agitation and knew something had gone amiss, suspecting that the women contended with a menace of a darker nature; one coming from inside the caravan.

Turning in her saddle, she motioned for Ammanus to come up alongside her. Spurring his mount and drawing a guttural response from the gangly creature, he brought the camel up on her right side.

“Trouble is afoot,” Rayden told Ammanus when he rode next to her.

“What do you mean?” Ammanus said, looking puzzled. He glanced out toward the featureless landscape, squinting against the bright sun. “I see nothing out there. Just desert everywhere. What trouble?”

“No, not from out there,” Rayden said. “Within. And I mean to settle this long before we reach Kartajen.”

“I don’t understand?” Ammanus said, looking more confused. “What kind of trouble from within?”

“It is something I have seen before,” Rayden said. “We have a predator, or maybe more than one, among us.” Her gaze swept up the long column, wishing that the task of identifying a wicked heart were easier.

“Some blood is going to be spilled then,” Ammanus said, a grim look on his face. “That is what you mean to say. I have traveled with you for long enough to know what you will do.”

“I am giving you fair warning,” Rayden told him. Her eyes narrowed as she thought of the women. “The nature of what I sense cannot be given leave to continue.”

Ammanus took a deep breath and sighed. “When you have your heart set on something, Rayden, I do not think a god could stop you.”

“I would fight a god over something like this, but I just wanted you to know, as a friend,” Rayden said. “I accept the consequences of what I do. I do not wish to bring you into this.”

“Thank you,” Ammanus replied, though she could see he already feared her stirring up a tempest within the caravan. The smile that arose on his face a moment later looked forced, but his next words conveyed the kind of man she had come to know well. “I am willing to be brought into this, for you, whatever it is. There is nobody whose judgment I trust more than yours. If I am able to help you, please let me know. I know you do not confront things lightly.”

“Thank you Ammanus,” Rayden said. “Hopefully this can be taken care of quickly and in the shadows.”

Looking behind her, she gazed upon one of the women whose change in mood had bothered her. The sadness evident on her face stoked a fire deep within Rayden.

Whoever had caused that change had to be found and brought to justice, as soon as possible. To delay meant to subject the woman and others to malevolence of a kind Rayden had encountered all too often before.

Knowing that something so malignant was happening and doing nothing about it would be little better than sanctioning it. Rayden, as so many in the past had discovered to their elation, rage, or terror, did not countenance the wicked.

***

At the break of dawn on the following day, Rayden espied one of the young women sitting by herself and crying while the caravan readied to set out. Downcast and heaving in sobs, the young woman bled painful emotions.

Wiping her tears away, she looked fearful and anxious when Rayden approached her. For a moment, it looked as if the young woman would try to run off.

“No need to be afraid,” Rayden said in a gentle voice, holding her hands up, palms out, and seeking to calm the young woman. She then asked, “May I speak with you? Just for a moment. It is important.”

The woman did not reply at first, simply staring at Rayden with eyes reddened from a cascade of tears. She then glanced about, appearing to be looking for anyone close enough to listen or see what was going on.

“Nobody’s close enough to hear us, we’re speaking in private,” Rayden reassured her, keeping her tone soft and relaxed. “I just want to know something and only you can tell me. Something has happened to you in recent days ... and some of the others. I see the fear on your faces. I have seen this kind of fear before in my travels. I know the changes that I have seen come over you and some of the other women. I know what causes this. Just tell me. Who is he, or is there more than one preying upon you?”

The anxiety in the woman’s face was replaced by a look of stunned amazement at Rayden’s words. She looked around again with an air of anxiety, confirming Rayden’s suspicions beyond doubt.

“I don’t carry this sword and axe for decoration,” Rayden said. “Even if this miscreant could hear us, you are safe. Just help me, and tell me about what has happened over the past few nights.”

After a couple of attempts, the woman found her voice. Shaky and hesitant at first, she settled into a steadier cadence as her horrid tale took shape.

The woman told Rayden about the vile things that had been happening during the last few nights. What she heard set her blood to boiling. Her hands ached to reach for the weapons at her waist.

Everything was as Rayden had expected. A man in the caravan, who the woman identified as one of the guards, had taken to forcing himself upon a few select women.

The poor woman believed she had no redress, as she and the other female victims were low-level servants of a wealthy merchant’s wife. It soon became clear that the wretch maintained caution in only preying upon those of the lowest status.

Rage filled Rayden to the brim by the time the woman completed her tale. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice calm and her expression somber, though inside she wanted to cry to the heavens and call for an open challenge to whoever had done such evil to the woman.

Yet she knew that she could not create a large disturbance or she would invite much more trouble to both herself and the victims. She had to stalk in the shadows, but to do that she had to know the identity of the predator.

“You must tell me who he is, so that I can be wary of him,” Rayden said, looking the woman straight in the eyes.

She knew the woman would not fathom her ultimate intent. Being a lowly servant of a wealthy merchant, the woman would be unaccustomed to another taking up her cause or defending her. Enduring the evils of the world were the typical lot afforded to servants and slaves, but Rayden was neither.

Nodding slowly, the woman cast her gaze about once more. After a few moments her face tensed up, fear leaping to her eyes. She did not need to say a word as Rayden followed her eye line to the cause of the reaction.

Sitting astride a camel, a brute of a man laughed, talking with two other mounted guards. Rayden held back her initial urge to send her axe hurtling toward the man’s broad, bearded head.

Loud and full of swagger, he carried himself with the kind of air that Rayden had seen of his kind before. He would not cross the merchants or his own superiors, but he would think nothing of inflicting harm upon the voiceless.

“You need say nothing more,” Rayden told the woman. “I see him. I know who he is.”

Calls were dispersed for everyone to mount up and begin the day’s journey. The man who now held Rayden’s ire barked out commands in a gruff voice, telling the people traveling in the caravan to get up and moving.

He saw the young woman and cast a mocking smile, failing to see the storm coalescing in the face of Rayden just a pace away from her. He rode onward, continuing down the length of the caravan. Rayden watched him go, her blue eyes staring daggers into his back.

“What you shared with me was not easy for you to do ... thank you,” Rayden said, looking back to the woman. Her voice grew firmer and a promise carried on her next words. “I assure you, I will bring the nightmare to an end. I will be back when the caravan halts for the night. Do as I tell you when I return and this will be over.”

The woman nodded back, though she had no way of knowing exactly what Rayden intended. For her part, Rayden could see the desperate wish in the woman’s eyes that the torment would come to an end.

In that moment, the guard rode back up the side of the column accompanied by a couple of others. This time he did not even glance their way, looking engrossed in some jest with his comrades.

It was all she could do not to draw her weapons and spill the miscreant’s blood on the sand. Hearing the man’s bawdy laughter, Rayden seethed, needing every last shred of willpower to stay under control.

Getting up, she took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. Keeping her composure, she strode back toward Ammanus, who had already saddled up and waited for her.

Her own mount awaited and without a word she got up into the saddle. The beast rose to its feet, lifting her high from the ground.

Ammanus caught her eyes and from his response it was clear that he registered the simmering look coiling within them. “You found something out. You know what has happened and who is responsible. Am I right?”

She nodded curtly, keeping her eyes locked forward as the dreg and his two companions trotted by on their mounts again. He loudly berated and threatened a few people who were slow to fall in with the caravan. Her fingers tingled with an impulse to grab the hilt of her blade.

“Him, the big one?” Ammanus asked. “The charming one yelling at the two older women?”

She nodded again, and replied. “I mean to end this tonight. When the sun rises tomorrow, his terrorizing will be over, I swear it.”

“Why not now?” Ammanus responded.

“I will spoil his next hunt,” Rayden said. “Then, I will lay him to waste. It is what a monster like him deserves.”

Chapter 3

Though Rayden anticipated that the low-life would seek to fill his hunger that night, it did not diminish her ire or disgust when he manifested. The reprobate worked his way into the young woman’s tent, moving slow and purposeful. He likely thought himself quiet, but she had heard his approach well before he fumbled at the tent flap.

She knew the mentality of his type all too well. Coming alone, he relied on his large size, bearing the assumption that he could overpower and use a woman for his pleasure against her will.

Rayden had no tolerance for such vermin. This night he would find a woman that he could not dominate. He would know fear and accountability before the moon reached its zenith.

Safe and under the watchful eye of Ammanus, the young woman whose tent Rayden now occupied had nothing to fear. In a discreet manner, Rayden had taken her place, something that would come as a tremendous surprise to the would-be predator.

Posing as if she were fast asleep, she listened to the man crawling nearer. She wrinkled her nose at the first whiff of his noxious body odor, the only thing that would harm her senses that night.

He worked his way over her, breathing heavily as he moved his bulk forward. A broad grin on his face, the man prepared to take his pleasure.

As he rolled Rayden over on her back and got between her legs, she wrapped the latter smoothly about him, with no sign of alarm or aggression. She could feel the rapid swell of his arousal, the man becoming excited in anticipation of another conquest by force.

His eyes bulged wide with astonishment when he found himself staring into ice blue eyes, alert and hardened. She knew he had been expecting fearful, dark eyes beneath him, but intimidation could be found nowhere within the wolfish gaze peering back.

“You chose the wrong tent to crawl into, scum,” Rayden said in a low, cold voice. Locking her legs tight about him, all pretenses vanished. “But it is good for other women that you came here tonight. Your days of violation come to an end now.”

The baffled expression on his face lasted only a moment longer. Fixing a hold on him with both arms and legs, Rayden executed a rolling move that changed their positions and had him on his back in an instant.

His eyes spread wide and he opened his mouth to say something. A sharp punch from Rayden stifled any utterances he might have made.

Straddling the thick-bearded figure, she unleashed a barrage of fists straight into his face. Crushing his large nose, she knocked most of his front teeth out by the time she stopped.

Teetering on the verge of unconsciousness, blood pouring from his mouth and nose, he moaned weakly. She shifted along his body and yanked his baggy trousers down, exposing the part of him that he had intended to make her suffer the most with.

Drawing forth the dagger she kept at her side during sleep, she made a concerted slice to the fleshy sack beneath his still-erect manhood. Continuing her onslaught, his testicles lay on the ground a few moments later.

Standing up, she stamped downward with great force twice in succession, crushing each of the severed parts underfoot. The only consolation to her disgust lay in that she wore sandals and did not sully her bare foot with the pulped flesh.

“I have removed the cause of your disease. Be glad you have your life ... if you can hold onto it,” Rayden addressed the man in a low, angry tone, bordering on a growl. He offered no response, his face reflecting a delirium of pain. “Perhaps you can go serve in a palace with other eunuchs ... like the one you are now.”

Gathering up her items, she left the violator bleeding and broken in the dark of the tent. She made her way back to the shelter where Ammanus slumbered, rousing both him and the young woman from sleep.

Seeing blood spattered on her, he looked up to her face in alarm. Gazing toward Rayden with sleepy eyes at first, the young woman snapped to alertness with a fearful expression.

“I removed one scourge from this caravan and a warning has been sent to any others who might wish to try something similar,” she explained to both of them. To the woman, she added. “There is nothing more to fear from that snake. He has been defanged.”

“A warning?” Amanus asked, looking nervous.

“Nothing you would like to hear me describe. I urge you to trust me,” Rayden replied looking him in the eyes without any trace of humor in her gaze.

He nodded and heeded her advice, refusing to press her any further on the matter. The young woman looked relieved that something had been done to her tormentor, though she did not shed all of her anxiety.

Rayden told the woman to stay with them for the duration of the night. No argument forthcoming, the woman settled in and soon fell asleep.

It took a little while for Rayden’s heated emotions to simmer down. Listening to the slow, relaxed breaths of the woman sleeping near helped her tempestuous mood ease bit by bit.

She suspected it was the first restful night for the woman since the first days of the desert journey. Somewhere in the darkness outside the woman’s violator faced a struggle to live until the next morning. If the sun found him with breath in his lungs, he would serve Rayden’s purpose.

He had been held to account and left with a severe reminder of his transgression that would last for the rest of his days. Not even the best sorcerer she had encountered on her travels could restore the brute.

She thought of what would transpire the following morning. Word of his mutilation would pass swiftly through the caravan, bringing with it an unspoken warning. When the next night arrived, Rayden doubted any further predations upon the women of the caravan.

The thought brought a smile to her face and peace to her heart. After a little more time passed, weariness finally came over her and she drifted off to sleep.

***

As expected, word of the grisly deed flowed quickly through the caravan when morning returned. She half-expected bluster from one or more of the brute’s companions, but not one approached to confront her. If anything, they kept a wide distance and averted her gaze, though from their eyes she knew they were aware that she had been the one who had carried out the retribution.

Melisea, the woman Rayden had approached the previous day, was the first to express her gratitude. No words were necessary. Breaking into tears, she pressed her face into Rayden’s shoulder and hugged her tight for several moments.

A few other women came up to Rayden when Melisea finally released her embrace. Hesitant at first, they exhibited more confidence with Rayden as she received them one by one. She greeted each one of them warmly, after which their nervousness ebbed and they voiced their gratitude for what she had done.

Evidently, the man who received Rayden’s justice had plagued the caravan every night since they had left the Divine City. He had availed himself of more women in the caravan than even Rayden had suspected.

Ammanus stood with her when the women came up, listening to the conversations and watching everything with both interest and a little unease. Finally, Rayden took leave of the women and started toward the front of the caravan.

“Is that?” Ammanus asked in a whisper, peering at a man whose face was bloated to a hideous degree, a motley array of fresh, swollen bruises covering his features.

The man limped in awkward fashion, as a couple of others worked to help him get astride a camel. Rayden could only imagine the ordeal he would go through riding that day.

Seeing his predicament, she felt no regret over what she had done to him. He still had his life, which was probably more than a monster like him deserved.

Rayden nodded to Ammanus. “Yes, that is the one.”

“A warning indeed,” Ammanus replied, wide-eyed. “One that nobody can miss.”

They continued to the forefront of the long assembly, finding Barca off to the side. Rayden did not wish to start the day without speaking to the highest authority in the caravan.

“It seems you delivered justice last night,” Barca said, a grim look on his face as she approached. “I see the women coming up to you and some of your victim’s comrades came to me demanding that you to be dealt with or expelled.”

“It was justice, for a man guilty of terrible crimes,” Rayden said. “I will not apologize.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked in a stern manner. “What do you want of me?”

“I wanted to speak with you, to know if I will have trouble with you. I know he was one of your men,” Rayden said. “If you understand what has happened, I can more than make recompense for what you have lost in his service to you.”

After a long pause Barca remarked with a dismissive air. “He brought it upon himself. I should have been told of what had been happening earlier. The dog’s life should be put to an end. And I may yet.”

“I still took a man from you,” Rayden said. “Even if he deserved his fate, I will do my part to defend your caravan for the rest of this journey.”

“I suspect you can wield a blade,” Barca said, eyeing the axe and sword at her waist. “I can see in your eyes that you are not a woman tamed.”

“And I never will be,” Rayden replied evenly, staring into his dark eyes.

A smile broke his thick beard and his features softened. “Perhaps just the kind of warrior I need with us on this journey. Yes, you may help us in the guarding of the caravan. You will have no trouble from me.”

Rayden gave him a nod of her head. “And should any trouble come to you, I will benefit you far more than the scum I took from you.”

“You may yet have a chance to show your skill with a blade,” Barca said. “Brigands roam this desert in large bands. Even a caravan of this size seldom deters them.”

“If they come, they will regret it,” Rayden said.

“You seek passage across the Great Sea, if I remember correctly what your companion said,” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I am on my way to my homelands, in the far north across the Great Sea.”

“Now that is a long journey,” Barca stated. “Kartajen will give you some options for crossing the sea. No other city along this coast sees the number of vessels that Kartajen does.”

“I’m counting on that,” Rayden replied.

“Very well, I shall have my men place you where you can be useful,” Barca said. His face shadowed over. “And I shall deal with the rabid dog you came across. You did me a favor.”

Barca walked away from Rayden, calling over one of his guards of higher rank. The man hurried over and they exchanged a few words in private, before the guard indicated for Rayden to follow.

Placed near the front of the caravan, Rayden judged Barca wanted to keep her within eyesight. In all likelihood he wanted to avoid disruptions from any seeking vengeance upon her.

He had nothing to worry about. She knew any such attempts would come in the shadows, when evening arrived. While daylight remained, none of the brute’s companions would seek to threaten her.

Scanning the horizons, nothing but empty desert horizons met her eyes, all throughout the day. The terrain looked no different than had the previous day, and she doubted it would change the next.

While riding at the caravan’s lead, she thought often about the brigands that Barca claimed were somewhere out there in the barren landscape. The dense forests of her homelands were much better suited to an ambush.

She wondered how any brigands could hope to draw near a large caravan without being detected. The movements of any large numbers would send up a dust haze that could be seen for leagues.

Perhaps they simply counted on overwhelming a caravan through sheer force and did not give much care to stealth. The thought did not bother her. Seeing them coming from far away simply gave her more time to ready herself to greet them. If it were not for the danger to the innocents in the caravan, she would have welcomed a good fight just to break the monotony.

Though every bit as long and hot as the others, the day did not wear on her as much as the last few had. She attributed the difference to taking up a more proper role for a warrior, in having a duty to attend to.

***

When evening fell, several men arrived as Rayden had expected. The companions of the newly-created eunuch, unfazed by what had been visited upon their comrade, converged on her shelter in the middle of the night.

Having already fashioned an exit at the back of the shelter, Rayden waited for the men to draw closer. Within her field of view, she counted five of them in all. They were spaced apart, the reflection of moonlight on their drawn weapons.

Her eyes narrowed upon one creeping nearer to where she crouched. Gripping a short blade, a terse look etched on his face, the man’s intentions for her were clear enough.

The deep chill of the desert night could well have been the specter of death hovering over the shelter. A path leading to bloodshed well in motion, Rayden poised to unleash doom upon the bearded figure approaching ever closer. He crept forward, now only a couple paces from the tent.

With the explosive speed of a lioness, Rayden burst into the open and engulfed the creeping man. Moonlight glinted off her blades, both axe and sword.

Terror filled the face of the startled, would-be assassin. Agony swept it away. Blood leeching into the sands, his prone body lay face down.

Rayden did not pause for an instant, charging toward the second figure crouched a short distance from the first. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to give flight, but toppled over with her axe buried in the midst of his back.

Bounding over, Rayden took up the axe and stood with her back to the shelter. Hearing the cries of their companions, the remaining three had banded together and squared to face Rayden.

The bright moonlight showed their faces well enough. Hatred, anger, and more than a little fear reflected in their expressions.

Rayden strode toward the three figures, her eyes swirling with a feral hunger that only death could sate. Hesitancy took root in the men, followed by a surge of fright that saw them attempt to flee.

She spent the better part of the remaining night hunting the three men down. One by one, she found her quarry, bringing each of them the death they had intended for her.

One found his hiding place betrayed by one of the women who had suffered at the hands of his comrade, when he tried taking refuge in her shelter. Hearing her panicked cries, Rayden hurried to the tent and discovered the man inside. After sending him to the ground with one hard punch, she dragged him away from the woman by his hair.

Her nostrils filled with the stench of his voided bladder, right before she plunged her blade into the back of his neck. Pulling the weapon out, she shoved his corpse forward, where it fell face-first into the sand.

Rayden became alerted to another’s location by camels, the beasts becoming agitated when the man tried in his desperation to hide among them. The creatures made further commotion when he cried out pitifully, Rayden’s shadow falling over him. The cry ceased abruptly when her axe cleaved through skull and brain.

The last of the five men showed more backbone to his courage, trying to ambush Rayden when she came for him. She could only guess that in his fear he forgot that his tracks were simple to follow.

Having figured out his hiding location, Rayden curled around behind him on soundless steps, to where he crouched near the back of another shelter. He had no hint of his peril until she loomed over him. Far too late for the hapless man, Rayden severed his head from his body with one powerful stroke of her blade.

Shrouded in a cold, remorseless silence, Rayden made her way back to her shelter. Killers had come for her and she had done what had to be done.

Slipping inside, she cleared her thoughts, listening to Ammanus’ muffled snores in the shadows. With no more disturbances expected that night, she availed herself of the night still remaining to her. The next day would be a long one and there would be the awkward matter of Barca losing five more of his guards.

***

Barca caught up to Rayden when the caravan set out at the break of dawn. His dark eyes carried a gleam of anger, not even a ghost of a smile resting on his lips.

“Five more taken from the guard of this caravan, their bodies found scattered all about the camp this morning, one of them headless,” he announced tersely, offering no greeting. “All of them happened to be friends of the rabid dog you confronted. Nobody will tell me who killed these men. You and I both know it is no coincidence. Do not try to tell me you had nothing to do with this.”

“Would you rather me allow five men to attack my tent and slit my throat in the dark?” Rayden asked Barca, her ice-blue gaze boring into his. “I did no different than you would have.”

He held her stare for a moment. Finally, he nodded, though the anger still simmered in his eyes. “There is no argument I can give to that.”

The pair rode together in silence near the head of the caravan. Rayden kept her eyes toward the horizons, while Barca brooded.

“You lost nothing,” Rayden stated, cleaving the heavy tension.

“You count five men as nothing?” Barca asked with a tone of incredulity. “Out here in the middle of the desert with no prospects of hiring replacements?”

“Having me in your caravan guard is better than all six of them, including the new eunuch,” Rayden responded.

“You will not see him again,” Barca said. “I got rid of that dog before those men ever came for you.”

Turning her head, she looked at Barca for a moment. She had not expected that announcement. “With me and without those animals, your guard is stronger than before. This I assure you.”

“Let us hope we do not have to find out if your statement is true,” Barca said. “There are still many days left to travel.”

“We will get through them and see this caravan to Katarjen,” Rayden told him.

“May it be so,” he replied curtly.

Turning his steed, Barca made for the body of the caravan, leaving Rayden to her thoughts. She did not blame the man for worrying. He had not yet seen her fight, and he had lost six of the men he had hired to guard the caravan.

At the least, he had not let his emotions cloud his better judgment. He had recognized the truth of the matter; that Rayden had acted solely in defense of herself.

He also needed her. As he had stated, there were no possible replacements and every blade in his service now counted more than ever.

Shortly after midday, the outlines of many low, mud-brick huts appeared to the northwest. Accompanying the village were trees and green foliage, the mark of an oasis. The sight of something other than desolate terrain gave a lift to Rayden’s dour mood.

She had endured all environments she had traveled, but the barren, dusty world around her stood in stark contrast to the vibrant forests and mountains of her homelands. The winters brought their own hardships in the far north, but she much preferred the snow to the parched conditions of the desert.

The caravan shifted direction to head directly for the village and oasis. It took a little longer than Rayden anticipated for the caravan to reach the place, but distances always seemed to take longer when traveling in an arid landscape.

Supported by the oasis, the small village consisted of about twenty huts scattered within a swathe of thicker foliage and trees. A number of children ran out at the caravan’s approach, shouting to each other with eyes wide in excitement.

Rayden chuckled to herself, imagining the caravan to be the most interesting thing the children had encountered in a long time. She could not imagine living in such an isolated place, but imagined the small community survived well enough with the source of water they clung to.

The long procession slowed to a halt just outside the huts. Several of Barca’s men spread the order to set up camp. Rayden lingered at the forefront, interested in their new hosts.

Barca appeared to know the elders of the village well, exhibiting familiarity with all of them as they emerged and clustered around him. Their smiles and relaxed tones told her that the men shared a longstanding relationship.

Caravans probably helped sustain the village in its needs, bringing needed and desired items in exchange for access to the village’s water. She wondered how the village fared during times of war, or in its relations with the brigands. An oasis stood more valuable than piles of gold in the middle of a desert.

“Those men look like they’ve been around a few years. Must not have anything the brigands want to steal,” Ammanus said, interrupting her thoughts, having walked up to join her. He looked toward the long-bearded elders surrounding Barca

Rayden cast him a sideways glance and a grin, glad to see her friend again. “Not much to steal here, not from what I can see.”

“They cannot walk away with all the water,” Ammanus said. His voice grew more serious in tone. “But I am sure they know the leaders of the brigands as well as they know him.”

Ammanus inclined his head, indicating Barca, who laughed heartily at some jest made by one of the elders. For the village to survive in one of the more valuable pieces of land in all the desert, the elders would have to placate caravans and brigands alike.

“What are you thinking?” Rayden asked him.

“We must be wary,” Ammanus said. “These people are survivors.”

“We’ll keep an eye out, you can be sure of that,” Rayden said.

His face broke into a smile. “But it will be nice to wash this dust off and feel water on my skin again.”

“You and me both,” Rayden said. She saw several men and women from the caravan heading toward a thick line of foliage. “Looks like others share the same idea.”

“I say we join them.”

Rayden glanced back to Barca and the elders, nodding. “As good of a suggestion as any.”

With Ammanus at her side, she started for the trees, offering the promise of cool shade and water.

***

On the edge of dusk, Rayden noticed Melisea returning to the shelters of the encampment with a worrisome look on her face. Seeing the distress, Rayden rose to her feet and walked toward the woman. She hoped there was nothing of the nature that the woman had endured before.

When she drew near, she asked her gently, “I see the look on your face. What troubles you?”

“These poor people,” Melisea replied, her eyes glistening with sorrow. “Is there no place in the world where people do not prey upon each other?”

“If there is such a place, I have not found it,” Rayden replied grimly.

After the nightmare Melisea had suffered early in the desert journey, Rayden felt a deep unease, seeing the woman exhibiting such a strong level of distress toward the villagers. She wondered what kind of plight could invoke such a reaction.

“What did you learn of the villagers?” Rayden asked.

Melisea paused, looking into Rayden’s eyes. She then told her in a low, pensive voice, “I spoke with a woman ... a woman who just had a daughter taken from her. And another woman, who lost her son ... only three days ago.”

“Taken?” Rayden replied, a scowl forming on her face. “The brigands?”

Melisea nodded, a tear escaping and running down her cheek.

Rayden had been wrong that the village had nothing the brigands wanted. But a further question remained.

“What do the brigands want with the sons and daughters of this village?” Rayden asked. “Children are of no value to desert raiders.”

“To those who cross the seas they are of great value,” Melisea replied. “It is rumored that the children are taken somewhere in Teveren lands.”

The response perplexed Rayden for a moment. There were much easier ways of procuring children than bringing them across the Great Sea.

The hackles rose on the back of her neck as she thought of the one possibility that made sense. Practitioners of dark sorcery would only invite retribution taking the children of Teveren families.

A few nameless children taken from the lands of an enemy would rouse no one to action. Voiceless, anonymous, and bereft of any to stand for them, captive children were doomed to any fate intended for them.

“You know something of this?” Melisea asked, evidently mistaking the darker look spreading across Rayden’s face.

“Just a suspicion, born from years living in this cruel world,” Rayden answered.

Several more tears fell from Melisea’s eyes and her voice sounded thick with emotion. “I can’t imagine what a mother or a father goes through. Having your children taken away like that? What must it be like for those who have not lost their children yet? Living each day not knowing if the brigands may come to take your daughter or son?”

Rayden’s jaw grew taut listening to Melisea’s sobs. Sorrow funneled through her own heart, transforming into a fiery anger that had no easy outlet at the present.

No brigands stood within the reach of her blade and a sea lay between her and the vile sorcerers she suspected were at the root of it all. The only thing she could promise herself was that any brigand who tried to come and take a child while she remained in the village would have to get past her first. A part of her regretted that the caravan would not tarry long before departing.

She would take the bitter knowledge to heart. She reminded herself that she sought to cross the Great Sea and while Teveren lands were not her destination, awareness always preceded the confrontation of evil.

“Living like that is a hell as horrid as any described by prophets,” Rayden said after a long silence. “I share your sorrow for these people.”

Melisea nodded. “I wish I didn’t feel so helpless right now.”

“I wish I didn’t either,” Rayden confessed, a wave of anguish passing through her.

The children were far away and nothing could be done, unless the brigands made an appearance at the oasis. Though Rayden had seen tremendous cruelties throughout her travels, she still could not reconcile how anyone could do such a thing and live with themselves.

That night, sleep proved difficult, her thoughts plagued by the story of the villagers’ plight.

Chapter 4

Having replenished their water and allowed their mounts to partake of the oasis’ bounty, the caravan moved out a day later. From what Rayden learned, well over half of the journey lay behind them and less than fifteen days remained to the walls of Kartajen.

Taking her place at the vanguard of the caravan, she peered toward the line where sky met land, finding herself wishing to see a sign of the brigands. At the moment, only empty desert met her eyes.

After listening to Melisea’s tale, she hungered for the brigands to move upon the caravan. They would meet an axe and sword thirsting for their blood.

Her desire found no succor, the sun crossing the skies with no signs of brigands or anything else. The same transpired the following day. One day blending into the next, she fulfilled her promise to Barca in warding the caravan.

When not assisting with the watch at night, she joined Ammanus for food and conversation. She could tell he grew more restless and bored by the day, with so little to occupy his attention.

After the trials faced by the women in the caravan, he expressed having no desire to seek companionship of a physical kind. Rayden respected him all the more for that decision, but she reminded him that his famine would swiftly come to an end once they reached Kartajen.

Exotic beauties awaited him within the brothels of the great city, more than Ammanus could ever hope to handle. She promised that she would contribute some coins toward giving him a wonderful night when they arrived.

Seeing the spark of vigor in his eyes and the mischief in his expression, she laughed merrily, the first moment of levity she had experienced in days. It reminded her of the better things about life, including both friendship and the thrill of passion.

After dwelling in dark thoughts since the night in the village, she saw that she needed that kind of reminder from time to time. Life needed balancing when darkness stood so prevalent.

The next morning she took her place at the vanguard of the caravan again, as she had every dawn for the last several days. This time her heart rested in a better place. After the latest conversation with Ammanus, she had found a better equilibrium.

She still hoped the brigands made an attempt to take the caravan, so she could mete out justice, but she could not allow herself to be consumed with rage. A fire channeled could be the source of great strength, while one spreading out of control destroyed everything it crossed; innocent and guilty alike.

***

In nature, Kartajen proved to be like many cities Rayden had visited in the past. Behind towering walls and a massive gate flanked by great towers, a sprawling mass of humanity scraped out meager lives under the eyes of an elite steeped in luxuries and comforts.

Alleys choked with rickety market stalls offered an array of goods in the shadow of opulent palaces. Clusters of children ran through the streets to the curses of the elders they bumped into. Guards strolled at leisure, while women with harried expressions went about their daily tasks running households. Beggars and prophets vied for the attention of each passerby, both of them attracting the scowls of clean-shaven priests attired in garments of fine quality.

Rayden took all of it in, glad to be in the bustle of a city with all of its energy and activity. She welcomed the pools of shadow cast from buildings after so many days passed under a blazing sun. The monotony of caravan travel had finally come to an end, the city offering her a brief respite before a sea journey began.

Ammanus had already sought out his own form of relaxation. Once inside the city gates, he had wasted little time in seeking out a brothel, eager to indulge himself in carnal pleasures after enduring such a long period of restraint.

As she had promised, Rayden contributed a few silver coins toward his lustful foray, wishing him grand adventures while she explored the city for a little while. She smiled recalling the giddy eagerness in his face, like a child about to receive a favorite sweet food.

Her appearance attracted many gazes, some filled with curiosity and others with more prurient leanings. A northerner with flowing blonde locks and piercing blue eyes, she contrasted sharply with the darker hair and complexions predominate all around her. On the average, she stood a head taller than most, bringing further attention her way.

One glance at her axe and sword told many she was not one of the foreign beauties from a brothel. One glare from her proved enough to discourage other kinds of advances. Pickpockets thought otherwise of attempting to take the purse at her belt.

Walking deeper into the great city, Rayden passed down lines of market stalls. The air teemed with the sounds of merchants proclaiming the attributes of their wares and haggling with prospective buyers. Her nose wrinkled at some of the less pleasant odors of a city, from the excrement of animals to the pungency of sweaty bodies in close proximity.

A breeze would have been quite welcome, both for its cool touch and to drive away the less pleasant aromas. Yet the air remained stagnant, the heat carried within it seeming to weigh it down.

Looking ahead, she eyed a range of high tenements, the likes of which were only found in cities on the scale of Kartajen. Farther beyond spread the great harbor with its mass of sea-going vessels.

The waters glittering in the sunlight looked bejeweled, forming a welcome vision after staring at sand for days upon end. Rayden would be negotiating passage across the Great Sea soon enough and a tinge of eagerness to be on her way tugged inside.

The coins she carried with her would not see the pouches of merchants. Every last one remaining might prove necessary to get her aboard a vessel.

Once past the long-line of merchant stalls, she found herself at the edge of a large, open square. A dense crowd had gathered at the base of a high stone dais, accessed by a long flight of steps in the front. Sprouting from each side of the platform were curving, sculpted horns.

A deep unease filled her at the sight of an altar dedicated to Malech, the monstrous bull-god of the Kartajenians. To her eyes, the thing stood far more a demon than any sort of god. The statues depicting its bestial form always carried an air of malevolence, rather than any measure of beneficence.

She wondered how anyone could worship a god that took the visage of a dull-witted herd animal; much less a deity with a hunger for living sacrifices. Nevertheless, an elite priesthood maintained temples and altars of the god all over Kartajenian territory.

She noticed the midday sun had nearly reached the epicenter between the two points of the great horns. A number of clean-shaven male figures garbed in crimson robes were gathered atop the dais, surrounding a tall, narrow-faced man clad in white robes, his shaved head circled by a golden headband.

Unlike the busy market area with its loquacious merchants, the area with the high altar harbored a reverend hush all throughout. Gazes filled with expectation, men and women both wealthy and poor looked toward the priests above them. In this single matter, they all stood together as equals.

A forest of billowing flames blazed from within some manner of cavity or pit set at the top of the steps. Snaking tongues of fire within the gaping maw licked hungrily, awaiting the next offering to the bull-god.

Horror filled Rayden a moment later, seeing another pair of figures surmounting the steps and pulling a young boy along with them. The boy flailed and struggled, but the robed figures were too strong for him to escape as they dragged their intended sacrifice steadily upward.

Only a small white cloth covered his loins, the rest of his olive-hued skin laid bare. His dark eyes reflected sheer terror as he looked about in a state of desperation.

Rayden’s heart beat faster, taking everything in at once. The boy did not want to die in the fires of some bull-headed deity. He wanted a chance at life, no different than any other boy his age.

At the top of the steps, the priests held him firmly in place and the white-robed one began a loud, rhythmic chant. The boy started to tremble at the sound of the priest’s voice. She could not imagine the kind of terror rippling through the boy, the heat of the inferno about to receive him beating against his skin from only a few paces away.

Another kind of fire sparked and spread fast within Rayden. Anger raw and furious swelled at the violation of everything she held sacred.

Slavery disgusted her enough, but watching an innocent boy being condemned to death offended every last fiber of her being. She stood witness to an outrage, a mockery of life itself.

Her greatest contempt fell upon the surrounding crowd. Standing like cattle, not a single one of them would speak out or seek to intervene on behalf of the boy. Unmoved by his plight, they would just stand idle when his agonized screams cut the air, his flesh given over to the ravenous fires.

To Rayden, all were guilty of a great offence, but she understood the motive that drove the priests. In their distorted vision, they were carrying out a duty to the god they had dedicated themselves to. The people filling the open ground were the ones who gave authority and power to the priests, to burn one of their own children alive.

Without the sanction of the crowd, the priests could never carry out what they were now doing. That immutable fact condemned all the onlookers in her eyes.

The boy looked back toward the crowd. The expression of despondent hopelessness on his face hit Rayden with the force of a thunderclap, as heavy as any physical blow she had ever suffered.

The look told her that he knew his fate had been sealed. Abandoned by everyone in his world, he believed nobody would stand for him.

Perhaps in other cities, at other altars to Malech, the boy’s despair would be justified. But not on this day; not when one figure stood among the crowd bearing the will to act.

All thoughts of consequence fled Rayden’s mind. She hurtled into motion, knocking bystanders aside and running for the base of the steps. Taking the first several at a leap, she propelled swiftly up the steep incline.

Gasps and cries of shock erupted in the crowd below at the audacity of someone daring to interrupt the sacred religious ceremony. Paying them no heed, Rayden’s focus locked squarely upon the two men holding the boy in place between them. A lioness closing the gap with her prey, she only thought of bringing the priests down.

A few of the other robed figures tried to get in her way when she reached the top. Powered with fury, her fists smashed into their faces, crushing noses, breaking jaws, and sending one of the men tumbling hard down the steps behind her.

The two with the boy looked stunned and indecisive as her gaze fell upon them. She took up her axe and blade, striding toward the priests. Fear flooded their eyes. Letting go of the boy, they turned to flee.

Running them down, the blades of her weapons flashed in the sunlight, rising and falling in rapid succession. Her weapons coated in their blood, the two priests lay dead at her feet.

She harbored no pity for them. If they wanted to serve the bull-god, they could do so in another world.

The white-robed priest had withdrawn a knife and almost reached the fear-stricken boy when Rayden turned around. Reacting in a blur of movement, she hurled her axe toward the man. Whirling end over end the weapon rushed through the air.

His eyes snapped open, iron biting deep into the side of his skull. Toppling over, the priest rolled down the entire length of the steps to the cries and gasps of the astonished onlookers below.

From her vantage, Rayden could see several guardsmen running toward the base of the steps. The crowd parted way for them, allowing clear access to the altar.

“Follow me boy and stay close if you want to live!” she shouted, having no time to settle the frightened and bewildered youth.

Eyes resembling blue flames, she turned her rage toward the guards. Moving to meet their ascent, she gripped her weapon firm and kept a steady mind.

She met the first of the guards about midway down the flight of steps. Her sword leapt to the fight. The body of the dead guard rolling down the steps gave the next one pause, but she fell upon him before he could change his course.

She descended the steps, one warrior after another falling to her blade and the death toll climbing rapidly. Only a couple of her opponents were able to stab at her with their spears. She batted aside their feeble attempts easily enough, unleashing doom in the wake.

Reaching the bottom, she retrieved her axe from the corpse of the high priest and squared her body in a balanced stance, staring at two guards who kept their distance. Gripping their spears tight, they eyed her warily but made no move toward her.

Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw that the boy had followed after her. His face still reflected fear, but she also saw amazement in his features, his gaze darting among the dead bodies strewn all about.

She knew the square would be flooded with guards soon enough. Keeping her attention on the two remaining in view, she gestured for the boy to keep close with her.

Turning to the right, she charged forward, the entrance of a narrow alley beckoning from a short distance ahead. Passing from sunlight into shadow, she hurried down the confined channel.

High tenements loomed to either side. The danger of being trapped would rise once the alarm spread. Having no escape routes outweighed any advantage of having only a few enemies being able to come at her at any one time.

She slowed just long enough to make sure the boy continued to follow. Spared the maw of an inferno, he had obeyed his unexpected savior and stood a few paces away.

“We don’t have time,” Rayden said between heavy breaths. “You will have to listen to me and follow every command I give you without hesitating ... if you want to survive and not be burned alive. Do you understand?”

The boy said nothing, but mustered a nod in response.

“Good, then follow me closely. Guards will be swarming through this area very soon,” Rayden said.

There was no time to ponder her greater predicament, of how to get out of the city either by land or sea. There was no chance of reaching Ammanus at the brothel. She had acted and now she could only react to manifesting threats.

A chase with deadly implications ensued as the pursuit began. There were not enough guards yet to fill every alley or street, but Rayden knew she did not have long before her adversaries enjoyed an overwhelming advantage.

More than once, she had to set a quick ambush, or spring into combat, coming into increasing contact with the city’s guardsmen. To a man, they proved woefully ill-prepared to contend with a fighter of her skill and it took little to cut them down.

Every kill cleared a path or purchased a little more time, but she knew it could not go on forever. She was not a god, and there were limits in a body of flesh and blood.

Exertion took its own toll and every fight sapped a little more out of her. Her arms had begun growing heavier, draining speed from strikes and reactions. Before too long, weariness would become far more of an adversary than the guards themselves.

Hiding, running, and fighting when necessary, Rayden protected the boy and sought an escape from a worsening predicament. Afternoon grew late and before long dusk would drape the streets in shadow.

Night promised doom. Most of the city’s residents would return to their homes, emptying the streets and exposing Rayden even further. With the deaths of the guards, the pursuit of her would not cease until she lay dead or in their captivity.

She had to find a way out of the section of the city she now roamed, but she began to suspect the city’s guards had addressed that first. The few times she came to streets that appeared new, the ends teemed with shield-bearing warriors, living walls forcing her to double back.

Hurrying down another street she had been down before, Rayden stopped herself at the cusp of running out into the open. Dismay filled her as she eyed the steps, dais, and altar where everything had started.

Alert, with weapons in hand, over twenty guards milled about the spacious area. From their helms, armor and shields, Rayden could tell they were of a much tougher ilk than the ones she had been encountering.

Cursing her fortunes, she watched at least another twenty warriors march into sight, equipped like the others that they joined in the square. She knew they were all mustering to come after her. The fatigue accumulated after an afternoon of constant running and fighting had her at a severe disadvantage.

The hunt would come to an end soon. With all routes blocked and additional forces massing, the pursuers would close in for the final kill with overwhelming force.

Rayden glowered at them from the shadows. She intended to take as many of them as she could with her, every last one if she could find the strength.

Her mind knew the situation facing her, but her heart held no trace of surrender within it. The only lament she harbored concerned the boy, who would fall back into the hands of those who would see him burned alive. All she had done would be for naught.

Turning to the boy, she stared into his dark eyes. Fear and sadness teemed within his gaze.

She looked upon a boy who had been abandoned by his own family. She did not have to ask him to know that he came from a life that knew hardship and struggle all too well.

The children of the powerful were not the ones given over to sacrifice. Those in poverty had the expendable sons and daughters for the hungers of wicked gods.

Alone, with not a single coin in his possession, the boy crouched next to her as poor and powerless as one could be in the eyes of Kartajen. Her eyes viewed him in a much different manner.

Rayden’s words flowed solemn and true. “I will defend you to my final breath, until you are safe and have a home free of those who would see you offered to a vile beast-god. By everything I am, this I promise you.”

The look he gave in response told her that the words struck him deep. A whole square filled with people willing to watch him burn had been replaced with one choosing to guard his life. Eyes watering, a number of tears broke free and began trickling down his smooth cheeks.

“Why? Why did you protect me? I don’t know you. I am nobody. Why did you risk your life?” the boy asked in a voice thick with emotion. “They will not let you leave here alive.”

The questions drove deep into everything that Rayden had become over the years and there were no short answers. The only reply she could give the youth came like an embrace from her lips.

“Your life is worth defending.”

Voices in the square rose in volume. Looking back, she saw the warriors being called into order. Poising for a final effort to root her out, they would march forward at any moment. She suspected similar scenes were taking place on all the streets around that section of the city.

Gripping her weapons, a fire surged throughout her spirit, girding her tired limbs with resolve. A sense of calm entered her mind, bringing clarity and a command of purpose.

She would earn a warrior’s death, surrounded by the bodies of her adversaries. A tempest of blood and fury coalesced, awaiting the enemy to make their move.

“Come! Come over here! Quickly!” a feminine voice called from the shadows in the alley behind.

Turning her head, Rayden espied a woman standing in an open doorway, gesturing to her with great urgency. Glancing back she eyed the warriors now assembled in a tight formation, presenting a wall of shields toward the alley. Bereft of any other viable options, Rayden sprung into motion.

Grabbing onto the boy’s arm, she pulled him along with her and headed for the offered refuge. The youth almost tripped, her strength yanking him off his feet at the outset, but he kept upright and hustled along at her side.

The woman stood aside the doorway as they neared, waving Rayden and the boy inside as she kept her eyes toward the end of the alley. Once they passed into the tenement, the woman hurried after and shut the door behind her.

Outside, a handful of moments later, a number of angry voices sounded followed by the thumps of many footsteps. The noise swelled in volume, a contingent of warriors tromping past on the other side of the door.

When the commotion outside died down, the woman turned to Rayden. A nervous expression on her face, she remained silent and stared at her new guests.

Getting her first good look at their benefactor, Rayden saw that the woman was about the age her own mother would have been at the present time. Her face and hair showed the touches of age, lines about the eyes and traces of gray in her long dark locks, but the glow of youth had not faded entirely.

Wearing a simple tunic, sandals, and little adornment, her appearance announced that she held no high position in Kartajen. Yet her intervention carried the power of life and death in the balance, sparing Rayden and the boy.

“Thank you,” Rayden told the woman, breaking the impasse. “You did not have to risk yourself for our sake.”

Finding her voice at last, the woman replied in a hushed tone, “Word of what you did today has spread fast. They spoke of the she-lion running the streets. Some fear you, but others know the truth of what you did. At least one in this city will defy the priests and stand for the innocents.”

“At least two, you meant,” Rayden corrected her. “You just did by helping this boy and giving the two of us a chance.”

The anxiety and fear in the woman’s face crumbled as Rayden’s words invoked a powerful reaction from her. Sobbing, tears streaming down her face in shimmering lines, the woman blinked rapidly. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to compose herself.

“I could not allow them to get to you, or the boy,” the woman said in a voice choked with emotion. “What they do is evil. But you will need to flee the city. The wicked priests will not rest until they have you and the boy in their grasp.”

“The gates will be locked and the walls watched closely,” Rayden stated. “There will be no slipping by there.”

The woman nodded. “And the vessels in the port will be watched over.”

With the ocean offering the best chance of leaving the city, Rayden turned her thoughts toward the great harbor. Filled with merchant vessels, not everything could be warded closely.

She had come to the storied port city to find passage across the Great Sea. Stowing away on a vessel was not her initial intention to make the journey, but circumstances had changed and she would have to take her chances.

“How far is the port, from where we are now?” Rayden asked the woman.

“Not very far at all,” the woman answered. “But what of the guards? The area by the harbor will be full of them by now.”

“I could not simply walk up to one of the larger ships, but if I could approach them on water,” Rayden said, thinking aloud. She looked toward the woman. “Do you know of anyone who might be a fisherman? Someone who might have a small boat that one person can use.”

The woman’s brow furrowed. She fell silent for a moment before replying and nodding to Rayden, “Yes. I know of more than one who has such a boat.”

“Is there a way I can speak to them? Would they be willing to help? Maybe one that feels such as you do about the priests.”

The woman nodded slowly. “I believe so. I will have to go to them and bring them to you. You must stay hidden. But you will have to wait. Even I cannot go into the streets now.”

“No, not now,” Rayden agreed.

“You must remain as guests in my home. My name is Asherah. You will receive food, drink and rest,” the woman said. “I live by myself. My husband is no longer in this world. You will not be disturbed here, or be in any danger of discovery.”

“My name is Rayden and I thank you for all of this,” Rayden said, holding the other’s gaze.

“Something must be done for one who would stand against a wicked god,” Asherah said.

Her words sent a chill down Rayden’s spine. She viewed her struggle against men of flesh and blood; not an attack on a god she did not believe existed. Nonetheless, the words rang sobering in her ears and for a moment she wondered what adversities could befall her by provoking the ire of a god.

No matter how fearsome in appearance, creatures that bled could be killed. How an adversary immune to blades or any other physical device could be overcome she did not know. Even the idea of contending against such an enemy left her with a sense of being adrift in waters she had no control over.

Yet even had the bull-god manifested that day before all gathered at its altar, her choice would have been the same.

For the second time that day, she spoke aloud the reason she had acted. “The boy’s life is worth defending.”

Chapter 5

The night, morning and the following day crawled by in laborious fashion. Aside from conversation, little else could be done in the small dwelling space to pass the time. At least the interior provided relief from the relentless sun baking the streets outside.

Early in the day, Asherah prepared Rayden and the boy a meal including figs, bread, mutton, and a little wine, announcing that she would go into the city afterward to inquire about the use of a boat. Sharing the food and drink with them, she spoke at length about a number of things regarding Katarjen.

Over the past year, the sacrifices had increased in response to spreading conflict with Teveren. The rising power across the sea had seized many holdings of Kartajen and swayed a few prominent allies to switch allegiances.

The sharp downturn in fortunes had only increased the demands of the priests for Kartajenian children to hurl into the fires of Malech. To Asherah’s knowledge, the bull-god had still not intervened to reverse Kartajen’s losses.

The ruling Council of Elders had appointed new commanding generals in the hopes of stemming and reversing the course. Sent abroad to confront the Taverenians closer to their lands, the generals carried the hopes of all Kartajen with them.

Rayden valued the information. Having been in the south for quite some time, she did not know of the escalation of fighting between the rival powers.

Watching the door shut when Asherah departed to conduct her inquiry, she harbored little worry. In allowing Rayden and the boy refuge within her home, Asherah showed the kind of character that would not waver so easily.

Her eyes brimmed with contempt whenever she spoke about the sacrifices or the priests of the bull-god. She would not easily betray the two fugitives she now harbored.

Rayden found it strange that Asherah never mentioned having a child, though she referenced her dead husband many times. She did not press Asherah on the matter, sensing a dark, haunting tale lurking just under the surface. She caught a distinct sadness in the woman’s eyes more than once, during moments when she thought nobody was looking and her gaze lingered upon the boy.

Rayden passed the time talking with the boy and trying to get some rest. She learned that his name was Hamilcar. He had a pair of older brothers and a younger sister. His father labored daily as a porter, loading or emptying the cargo from the ships in the harbor from dawn until dusk.

She found it hard to believe any father enduring such backbreaking work at a low rate of pay would cooperate with the desires of soft, wealthy priests. Yet Hamilcar’s parents had readily given their own son over to the high priests, when the latter made their choices of sacrifices deemed suitable to Malech.

Her heart ached listening to Hamilcar’s story, watching the boy break into tears more than once. He had evaded the fires of Malech, but a new and uncertain world awaited him.

Walking away from everything he had known would not be easy. Rayden had once taken that path and could understand the terrible ordeal the boy faced.

Later in the afternoon Asherah returned. A man with a head of gray hair and narrow features accompanied her. A fisherman, he stood willing to discuss the matter of his boat with Rayden. Like Asherah, he expressed a great resentment for the bloodthirsty priests of the bull-god.

He described the boat that he had and the general area where it was located. While willing to help in the matter of the boat, he would not take her there in person.

The port teemed with guards, looking out for Rayden and the boy. If she decided to use his boat, he wanted it to appear like theft to the eyes of others, with no trace of his involvement.

Rayden understood his position and did not argue. She dug out a couple of gold coins in the pouch she carried, easily enough for the man to purchase another similar boat. He accepted the coins and expressed his gratitude to her, wishing her and the boy well before departing Asherah’s home.

The successful arrangement buoyed the spirits of their host as she set about fixing another meal. While they were eating together, she indicated that she would be leaving one more time, to help with the matter of reaching the port. Rayden wondered what Asherah intended to do but did not press her on the matter.

When evening approached, Asherah left the dwelling once more. She returned soon after with another man, one much younger than their previous visitor.

Harboring a fiery look in his eyes, he looked to Rayden and the boy while Asherah introduced him as Sibal. She described him as a guide who would see them to the harbor that night.

Like the fisherman, Sibal expressed his antipathy toward the priests of Malech and their child sacrifices. He had no qualms about guiding Rayden and the boy, indicating that he had an idea on how to get past all the guards unnoticed.

He left a short time later, indicating he would return at midnight. Rayden found herself liking his spirit already, sensing a keen wit and determination.

After Sibal left, Rayden found her hands lifted up and cradled in those of Asherah. The sadness she had noticed earlier, when Asherah looked upon the boy, gleamed in her eyes.

“My part in this is coming to an end soon enough,” Asherah said, her face somber. “I know that you do not worship Malech, but I know that whatever god you worship is one of light. I just ask that you pray to your god for me ... for mercy on my spirit when I must go into the next world.”

Rayden did not have the heart to tell Asherah that she prayed to no gods. Nor could she find it within her to lie.

“If a god of light can hear the prayers of a woman who has spilled the amount of blood that I have, then I will offer that prayer,” Rayden said.

The answer appeared to bring some peace to the other woman, the pained look in her eyes softening. “A god of light would listen to you. You stand against the darkness.”

Rayden offered Asherah a smile and gently squeezed her hands before letting go of them. “I will not forget you, Asherah. You saved the boy, and me, from a terrible fate.”

“I will not forget you,” Asherah said, her eyes tearing up. “My only regret is that I did not witness such courage with my own eyes, when you intervened for the boy.”

“I only acted as my heart told me,” Rayden said. “It is the way I have always been, nothing more.”

***

Laying a wooden plank down, spanning the narrow gaps between the six level structures, Sibal led Rayden and the boy from rooftop to rooftop toward the port area. Far below them, the streets crawled with search parties of armed warriors.

Once, they passed directly over a group that had just turned a corner, trudging down the tight confines of an alley with weapons and shields in hand. Rayden listened to their voices and grinned to herself, knowing they would never think of looking upward.

Watching their guide setting down the plank to span another pair of buildings, she admired his insight. Kartajenian warriors blocked all of the streets, but they never considered the possibility of their quarry passing right over them. Had any of the ten warriors below cast just one glance above, they would have seen the fugitives they sought outlined in silvery moonlight.

Reaching the final tenement at the edge of the harbor area, they descended several flights of stairs, taking them to the street level. Walking out of the tall structure, Rayden drew to a halt.

Peering outward, she took in the sight of the port. Moonlight glittered off the water and the looming, shadowy forms of larger vessels at rest could be seen all throughout the harbor. A considerable number of war galleys slumbered along the curving shoreline.

“There, to the right,” Sibal said, pointing. “That one will leave at dawn. I made some inquiries earlier, before coming to Asherah’s home.”

Following the prompt, Rayden eyed a large merchant vessel tethered at the side of a stone quay. Its sail furled on a single, heavy mast, the ship had a raised, curved stern with a steering oar set on the starboard side.

Though she could not see anyone aboard the ship at the moment, she doubted it went unguarded. A merchant vessel with a loaded cargo hold offered tempting rewards to would-be thieves. No captain’s reputation could endure the looting of a ship’s cargo while in port.

“Come with me, let us go to the boat you will use ... the one sold to you,” he said.

Sibal took Rayden and the boy down to where a small fishing boat rested, pulled up snug on the sand. Robust in construct, it held a pair of oars within its belly.

He helped her drag the vessel down to where the water lapped the shoreline. When the boat bobbed lightly on the glimmering surface in water knee-deep to Rayden, Sibal looked to her.

“This is as far as I can take you,” he announced.

“You have taken more than enough risk upon yourself,” Rayden replied. “I thank you.”

“It is my hope that one day altars to wicked gods will be a faded memory,” Sibal responded. “I am glad to help you and the boy. Get him free from this city. May your journey be a safe one.”

Rayden nodded to the man. “Whatever may come against us, I will see the boy to safety.”

Sibal gave her a nod and headed away from the boat. Sloshing out of the water, he walked up the beach and strode back toward the tenements.

Holding the boat steady, she let the boy climb into it first before getting in herself. The boat rocked for a moment and then leveled out as she took a position at the midsection.

Taking up an oar, Rayden dipped it into the water and pulled the blade through. Repeating the motion on one side and then the other, she took control of the boat, slowly gliding out from the shore.

She did not have far to go in reaching the merchant vessel Sibal had identified. Using the bodies of other ships, she masked their approach until they reached the final stretch of water.

Eyeing the sizeable vessel aside the quay, she angled her boat toward an area closer to the bow. Careful not to collide with the hull of the larger vessel, Rayden slowed and pulled alongside as quietly as she could manage. Dense shadow helped conceal them, with the moon’s light falling on the other side of the vessel.

Helping the boy upward, Rayden boosted him to where he could grab the top of the large vessel’s hull. With a low grunt of exertion, the boy hoisted himself up and over the side, climbing into the body of the ship.

Abandoning the small boat, Rayden followed right after, crouching low when her feet touched the rough-hewn planks of the ship’s decking. Keeping still, she took in her surroundings for a moment, a hand resting on the hilt of her blade. Nothing stirred among the moon-cast shadows around her.

“Stay low, we must seek a place in the hold,” Rayden whispered to the boy, her eyes falling upon a hatched opening leading down into the area of the vessel containing the ship’s cargo. The hatch, to their luck, lay open.

Slow and silent, she led the boy over to the dark opening and the top of a short flight of wooden steps. She locked her gaze on a pair of the ship’s crew standing sentry near a ramp spanning to the quay, but the two men had their backs turned and did not take notice of the new interlopers.

With the boy close at her side, she descended slowly, keeping the creak of the timber underfoot to a minimum. Enough moonlight leaked through the opening behind to outline the forms of the containers filling the hold.

Rayden paused, allowing her eyes to adjust further to the dusky environs. A cluster of large amphorae to the right would afford her and the boy ample concealment.

With no alarm raised, she took some time situating a space for the two of them at the back of the amphorae, by the outer hull. Careful to make as little disturbance as possible, she shifted a few of the clay containers about.

Forming an area large enough for the two of them to lay down in a curled up position, she told the boy to get some rest for the time being. Left to the darkness and sounds of creaking wood, the boy soon fell asleep while Rayden took up a steady vigil.

Having rested more than enough while taking shelter with Asherah, Rayden had no intentions of slumber herself. The delicate matter of meeting the captain loomed on the horizon, once the ship had taken to sea.

She had no way of knowing what kind of man captained the ship and she could only hope that fortune favored her. Without the blessing of the captain, she would find herself in a terrible quandary.

Further, there still remained the precise destination of the vessel, another answer she would discover soon enough. For all she knew, the vessel could be headed to the eastern reaches of the sea, where exotic cities teemed with dark sorcery, opulent palaces, and things steeped in shadowy mystery.

Nevertheless, the chances of both her and the boy surviving had increased. They had escaped the clutches of the city guards and priests of the bull-god. Passage across the sea had been found, even if not in the manner she had envisioned.

She simply had to wait for the morning to gain some answers. Settling with her back to the hull, listening to the creaking of the ship, she took a deep breath and maintained her calm.

***

The sounds of thumping footsteps above, mixed with a number of voices, indicated the approach of morning and the impending departure of the vessel. The commotion woke the boy, who looked to her quizzically as the activity above them increased.

Gesturing for him to remain silent, they continued to wait. A few men brought some additional cargo into the hold, but none of them drew close enough to bring any threat of discovery.

Golden rays of sun replaced silver moonlight, cascading into the opening of the hold. Above, members of the crew shouted to each other, preparing the vessel for departure.

After some more time passed, Rayden felt the ship’s movement when it left the side of the quay, beginning its journey through the harbor toward the open sea. Listening to the voices of the crew calling out to each other, she looked toward the boy.

Even in the shadows of the hold she could see the anxiety etched across his face. Smiling, she reached over and ruffled his thick, curly locks of hair.

“We are away from Kartajen, and I doubt the men on this ship are devout followers of Malech,” she told Hamilcar in a low voice.

He mustered a smile, looking a little more relaxed at her words. The boy already impressed her with his courage. From the top of the sacrificial dais he had followed her instructions without fail, all the while leaving behind everything he had known.

Whatever ill-feelings he harbored about being given over for sacrifice, he was still being separated from his parents, brothers, sister, and all of his friends. She found the fortitude he displayed remarkable, especially for a boy with such little experience of the world. Much more would be asked of him in the days to come, but the early signs gave her confidence that he could endure future trials.

Before long the movements of the ship became more pronounced. The rising and falling of the vessel, climbing and descending a larger series of waves, resonated in the pit of her stomach.

She had little doubt they had left the harbor and reached the open sea, though she remained below deck for a while longer. She had to be certain that they were far out to sea, with no chance of turning back or being witnessed by other vessels.

Finally she got to her feet. Looking downward, she told the boy, “I think it’s time for me to go up to the main deck and meet the captain. Wait here and do not come up until I call for you. Understand?”

The boy nodded. She gave him a pat on the shoulder and then edged her way through the amphorae. She girded her resolve, prepared to spill blood if necessary, but hoping that matters did not come to violence.

Everything rested upon the nature of the captain. She would have her answers in a few moments.

Rayden strode up the stairs, emerging into the open sunlight. Scattered across the heavens, the few clouds she saw carried no hint of storms. A light wind beat against the great sail and the creaks of ropes accompanied the splash of waves slapping against the outer hull.

Voices laced with surprise erupted a moment later, the crew members taking notice of the unexpected guest appearing within their midst. Rayden took a few steps forward, making no effort to subdue her presence.

Men began gathering around her, keeping a little distance. Among those approaching, her eyes settled on one man in particular. The air of authority surrounding him and confidence in his step identified his nature at once.

Weathered, leathery skin and streaks of gray in his ample beard indicated a veteran of the seas. A hard look rested within his eyes as he came to a halt and took in the sight of Rayden.

“It appears I have an uninvited guest,” he said in a firm, humorless tone. “Not something I anticipated or welcome on my ship.”

“Only out of necessity,” Rayden replied. “I did not want it this way, but I had to leave Kartajen. I will pay for my passage and earn my place aboard your ship.”

“Earn she says,” remarked one of the men nearby, chuckling and exhibiting a lascivious grin. He flicked his tongue out in a crude expression. “Do all the men get rations or what?”

“You can earn your passage alright,” chimed in another. “I can think of some duties for you aboard ship.”

More daring than his companion, he walked slowly toward her. The ship captain said nothing, watching the proceedings quietly as the man stepped closer.

Burly, with a rounded face and beard, the man conveyed an air of condescension. “Nothing original about you. Two legs. Two breasts. Three places for my cock. No, you are just another wench who should accept her place on this ship. A harlot for our pleasure.”

Rayden gave him a smile, though the look carried no trace of welcome or invitation. Her eyes mirrored the ice of the far north, cold and dangerous to all life.

In a low, steady voice she said, “I will accept a place on this ship but it will not be in the way you desire. I might even save your sorry hides if trouble arises. The choice is yours. Make it a good one.”

“The only thing arising will be me,” the man replied, smiling, grabbing his groin area as many of the crew broke out in raucous laughter.

He took another step closer, bringing his hand up from his groin. He started to reach toward Rayden’s breasts. A moment later he found himself crumpled on the decking, holding his groin for a much different reason, with blood pouring from a broken nose.

The surrounding laughter died instantly. Rayden heard the outraged curse from the man’s comrade, the other one who had addressed her.

She let the brute charge at her, dodging his wild blows easily enough. A heavy fist to his mouth buckled his knees and dropped him to the deck.

He spit blood and a couple teeth out on the wood. Rayden stepped forward and pressed her right foot down on the back of his neck.

“Do you want more?” she said, ready to continue his beating at the slightest provocation.

The man groaned, his eyes carrying a dazed, unfocused look.

“I didn’t think so,” she responded, grinding his face hard into the wood for a moment before lifting her foot off. The man stayed in place, making no move to get up.

She looked back to the captain, stating calmly, “Can we resume our discussion?”

The captain nodded and she recognized a newfound look of respect in his eyes. He spoke as if nothing unusual had just happened. “You were saying something about paying for passage and earning your keep aboard the ship, before my men interrupted us.”

Rayden took up a pouch at her waist and tossed it over to the captain. Snapping up his hand, he caught it mid-air. Opening the pouch and turning it over, he watched his palm fill with silver coins.

“There’s payment,” Rayden said. “And your men have had a taste of what I can do should your vessel come under attack by pirates.”

“I’m guessing you can use your axe and blade as well as you use your fists and knees,” the captain replied, turning his gaze back to her, glancing toward the weapons at her waist.

“I would rather give that demonstration on pirates, not your crew,” Rayden replied, staring into the captain’s eyes and letting the implied threat coil within the air about them.

A moment later, he nodded to her. “I would agree. Best save that for sea rogues.”

“I have a boy with me as well, who I have taken into my care,” Rayden announced. She called aloud,”Hamilcar, come up here now!”

After a short delay, the boy came up the stairs, wide-eyed and fearful as he took in the hard-looking crew standing around. He shuffled over to join Rayden at her side, keeping his eyes down.

“He is not yours, that is plain enough to my eyes,” the captain remarked. “He is a Kartajenian boy. There is a story here.”

“I spared his life from the fires of your bull-god,” Rayden answered. “I disagreed with the priests’ desire to sacrifice him.”

The captain eyed the boy, then turned his gaze back to Rayden. His expression remained somber.

“So you are the ones we heard about last evening,” the captain said. He paused for a moment. “I do not seek to offend gods, but Malech is not a god of the sea. The boy is in no danger of sacrifice aboard my ship.”

Rayden stared into his eyes, discerning his meaning. Satisfied that the captain would not seek to harm the boy, she turned her attention to the rest of the crew.

“If any of you think of making sport with him, you’ll meet death quickly. That I can promise you,” Rayden declared, sweeping her gaze across the faces of the men around her.

Not a single one of them could hold her eyes for more than a moment. She knew none would challenge her openly, but she intended to keep a close watch upon the boy nonetheless.

The two men still lying on the deck testified to the presence of less than savory inclinations within the crew. Their battered condition also empowered her words, giving warning to what Rayden was capable of if provoked.

“I think we have reached an understanding,” the captain stated, after a period of heavy silence. “You must earn your keep aboard the vessel.”

“As I expected to,” Rayden told him, nodding.

The captain eyed his men. “I command all of you to look upon these two as you would any member of our crew. If you seek to harm either of them, you will answer to me.”

Rayden’s expression remained unchanged but she welcomed the open support of the captain. She knew she could protect the boy, but she did not want to spend her days spilling the blood of the captain’s men.

“Is this understood?” the captain asked the men, glowering.

Scowls accompanied a few grudging affirmations, while others did not seem bothered at the captain’s words. Rayden took note of the most disgruntled among the crew, knowing they would likely be the most problematic.

“That matter is resolved, then. Back to your duties, we have a sea to cross,” the captain commanded.

Most of the crew began dispersing about the ship at once. The two lying injured on the deck remained, prompting the captain to bark out a few more orders to help them away. Beyond bruises and a few missing teeth, both would recover soon enough to return to their duties.

“May our passage go smooth and swift,” the captain remarked in a lower voice, when they were alone. “I doubt any of my men will cross you, even the most thick-headed among them, but there are many other dangers on the open sea. I will not lower my guard until this ship is quayside.”

Rayden could not have agreed with him more. Yet one question remained. “Where is this vessel headed?”

Her question evoked a short chuckle from the captain. He looked bemused, replying, “You must have been in a hurry to leave Kartajen.”

“I did not have much of a choice,” Rayden said.

“We are going to the port of Iellia,” the captain told her. “With the shadow of Tevere creeping so close to them, I get a much greater price for the cargo I bring there. There is nothing to worry about. The Kartajenians keep a strong force of ships there.”

The news dismissed her worries of being taken to the eastern edge of the sea. Iellia would put her and the boy farther south than she would have preferred, but it still kept them on the path to the northern lands she sought.

“Thank you captain,” Rayden said. “Until we are ashore in Iellia, you have my blades if needed and our labor.”

“Let us both hope that only your labor is necessary aboard this ship,” the captain said with a grim edge.

“We are in full agreement,” Rayden replied.

“An agreeable crew member is a welcome one aboard the ship of Medar,” he said, offering a smile and extending his arm.

She clasped his forearm. “Then know that Rayden of the Gessa will stand with you, to the end of this journey.”

Chapter 6

The next couple of days saw Rayden acclimating to a routine aboard the ship. The boy kept close to her at all times, showing no desire to stray too far.

Several men of the crew eyed her with lust, but none proved foolish enough to act on their feelings. Nor did any of them intrigue her in return.

Even if one of them had drawn her attention, she had set herself to avoid dalliances of a physical nature. The quickest way to sow discord in tight quarters would be to spark envy in favoring one of the crew.

A few of the men showed Rayden the main duties involved in tending to the sail and rigging. She also spent a little time with the pilot who operated the vessel’s large steering oar, learning something of its function.

She passed along the things that she knew Hamilcar could handle, so he could do his part for the crew and have something to help pass the time. Being given a set of responsibilities evoked greater confidence in the boy. He took to his tasks with vigor and resolve, displaying a dedicated work ethic that gradually won him some good will from others in the crew.

By the end of the second day, Rayden and the boy found themselves invited to join some of the men for their meals. When she and the boy listened to their tales at night, they were included in the conversations and bawdy jests that ensued.

Even one of those she had fought with displayed a congenial manner, though his face remained bruised and swollen from their encounter. The comrade of his that had lost some teeth to Rayden’s fist still glowered at her and kept to himself.

While not lowering her guard, she could not see any significant problems manifesting from the crew for the remaining part of the journey. Other dangers lurked in the depths of the sea, the weather, and in other vessels plying the ocean surface, but she welcomed the relative peace aboard ship.

At last she took leave of the others, taking the boy with her to the far side of the ship. Quiet and set apart from where most of the other crew members slept the night away, the place afforded her a chance to get some rest herself.

With the blessing of calm, clear skies, night brought a soothing atmosphere that made it easy to relax. With the boy soon lying fast asleep nearby, Rayden could allow herself a few moments to savor drifting off into slumber under a canopy of stars.

Pulling a cloak snug to warm her body, she let her cares dissipate. The caress of ocean breezes and flow of the ship over rolling waves lulled her ever deeper into a state of relaxation. Her eyelids growing heavy, the creaking of ropes and flapping of the sail serenaded her as she finally slipped into the embrace of dreams.

***

Morning brought death under clear blue skies. Under the newly-risen sun, a flash of movement, followed by a scream that sent ice through her veins, caught Rayden’s eyes as she worked at a rope in the main sail’s rigging.

Abandoning the rope she looked around just in time to witness some manner of winged shape splashing down into the waves on the other side of the vessel. Every sense within her snapped to full alertness, her weapons in hand a moment later.

The thing did not enter the water alone. Ensnared in its clutches, the man who had cried out plunged beneath the waves and disappeared.

Seconds later, another similar ambush occurred just behind her. Her ears rang with the wretched cry of the second victim, the shriek cut off by the water sealing his doom.

Shouts filled with terror erupted on the deck as she gripped her blade and axe. Lowering down into a crouch, she looked for the boy, who she had last seen helping some of the crew at the opposite end of the ship.

Anxiety seized her, as the boy could not be seen in any direction she looked. Facing an unknown threat, she had little time to think with events unfolding rapidly all across the stricken vessel.

She watched one of the men running across the deck and finally gained a look at one of the assailants, if only for a few heartbeats. Larger than a man and winged, the creature moved at great speed through the air.

Multiple pairs of legs extended from underneath, the two in front ending in pincers that the creature used to snare the hapless man. The momentum carried both predator and prey out of sight. Rayden heard the man’s desperate cry cut off as the creature bore him down into the sea.

The whirring from fast-beating wings brought Rayden’s attention around in a rush. The clatter of several legs on wood accompanied the creature alighting on the decking.

Her eyes widened, staring at the gaping jaws of the monster containing more than one row of sharp, inward-curving teeth. The deadly maw beckoned to her with a promise of a grisly death.

The creature’s small, black eyes were set just back from its jaws. Its segmented body ended in a broad tail fin, similar to that of a lobster.

Getting its balance, the creature lurched forward and scurried at her, extending its large front pincers. She deflected one of the pincers with her blade, darting to the side as the creature reached her.

The clacking of metal on the creature’s outer surface gave her immediate appreciation for its natural armor. Strikes along most of its bodily surface would prove fruitless, making her desperate task even more daunting.

A predator of the ocean, its body found no hindrance from water on the deck. Moving fast, it whipped about and snapped a pincer in the space where Rayden stood just an instant before she tucked and rolled along the length of its body.

Her action confused the beast for a moment and it paused, giving her the moment she needed as she gained her feet and spun around. Rushing up behind the beast, she dived between its legs and hoped its underside proved to be more vulnerable.

Driving her blade upward, gore spattered her face and body as the metal drove deep into the monster’s underside. The creature shuddered and stumbled, before collapsing to the deck with Rayden beneath it. Thankfully, its body, formed to fly and glide through water, proved far lighter than she expected.

Though not crushed underneath, Rayden still found herself pinned to the deck. She gagged, enveloped in the terrible stench wafting from the opened innards of the beast.

Straining and heaving, she tipped the body of the creature over to the side, pushing it off of her. Breathing heavily, she got to her feet at once and took assessment of the ongoing fracas. To her chagrin, she still did not see the boy.

Close to her, one of the beasts had trapped someone from the crew against the side of the ship. Whoever the person was loosed a shrill yell as the creature grabbed the individual with its right pincer.

Rayden took a deep breath and leaped forward, using the same method she had used to kill the other creature moments before. The beast never saw her coming, freezing in place as iron burrowed through its underbelly.

Coated in gore and smothered by a carcass once more, Rayden spit and gritted her teeth, heaving with all her strength to get the body off her. Rolling over, she pushed herself to her knees and got back up to her feet.

A few paces away, freed from the pincer, stood the man she had just saved. To her surprise, she found that he was the very one she had kicked in the groin, upon making her first introductions to the captain and crew.

“Be thankful I am with you,” she told the rattled-looking man. He nodded back to her, glancing back and forth between the dead corpse of the beast and Rayden, looking to be in disbelief at the intervention.

Rayden had no time to await his response. Another emergency loomed a short distance away, where another of the creatures had ensnared the captain himself.

Medar’s face a mask of agony, he struggled in the unforgiving grasp of the monster, to no avail. The creature lumbered toward the side of the vessel, only a few steps away from taking the captain into the watery depths.

Rayden lunged forward, springing across the deck and closing the gap between her and the monster swiftly. With no time to get behind it, she hurled herself toward the creature from its right side.

Eyeing the pincer grasping the helpless ship captain, she reared back with her axe. With all the power she could muster, Rayden brought her axe blade down at the base of the pincer, finding a narrow gap in its armor that exposed a vulnerable joint.

Sharp iron passing through cleanly, she severed the limb. Without pausing, she straightened up and drove the tip of her sword into the fleshy black eye of the beast.

Putting her weight behind the blade and pushing forward with her legs, she shoved the weapon as far into its body as she possibly could. The honed iron barreled deeper, invading the monster’s flesh.

Its movements came to a halt and a moment later it collapsed heavily on the decking. Gulping breaths of air, Rayden braced a foot on the creature’s body and yanked her weapon free.

Turning, she went to the aid of Medar. While in considerable pain, life remained in him and did not look to be fading. To her eyes, he had not suffered any major injuries.

With a grunt of exertion she pried the pincer wide enough apart to free him. He flopped onto the deck, wincing and clutching the area where the thing had grabbed him.

“I said I would earn my keep,” Rayden addressed the shaken-looking man.

She peered around, finding to her continued dismay that no sign of the boy could be found. At least the attack appeared to be over.

No other creatures could be seen and the men of the crew were regrouping. Weapons in hand, several had taken up positions at the sides of the ship and eyed the waves with great wariness.

“You...more than have,” Medar replied, gritting his teeth and groaning from the pain. He continued, “I will be fine. I think some broken ribs. That is all. It did not break the skin.”

“What ... were those ... things?” Rayden asked, looking about for the boy as she spoke with the captain.

“Makresia. Rarely encountered,” Medar replied.

“Just our good luck,” Rayden lamented. “Will these things come back?”

The captain shook his head. “Not likely. They strike and move on. They do not stalk. They rove the sea.”

“A fortunate thing,” Rayden said, her breathing leveling out at a normal pace.

A high-pitched scream pierced the air. The men gathered near the entrance of the cargo hold scattered apart as Hamilcar burst into the open, followed close behind by one of the creatures.

Rayden’s worst fears loomed nigh. The cries of the men who had been taken overboard echoed throughout her mind.

“To me!” she cried out to the boy, charging across the deck. “Run to me!”

Hearing her, the boy shifted course and ran straight toward Rayden. The creature altered direction and followed close behind, bearing down fast on its intended prey with a loud clattering.

Rayden ran past the boy and leaped upward. Soaring over the beast’s maw, she landed behind its eyes, legs straddling the sides of the thing. Twisting to the left, she shifted her grip on her sword, orienting the blade straight downward.

She plunged the sword into an eye, the iron striking true and killing it instantly. The body of the creature thudded to the deck. Working her blade free, she slid off the side of the Makresia.

Hearing the pounding of footsteps, she turned to see the boy running over to her. A moment later, she found herself embraced by Hamilcar.

He hugged her tight, heaving with great sobs. Sliding an arm around him, she held him close. Tears flowed down his cheeks.

Around her, the men of the crew set about ridding the deck of the carcasses. Working together, they threw the remains of the dead creatures overboard, though many places remained slick from the gore left behind.

She remained in place as long as the boy needed, a mournful silence pervading a crew that had just lost several of its own.

“Thank you, Rayden,” Medar said in a low voice, placing a hand on her shoulder. He gave her a gentle pat and walked away.

“I owe you my life,” another voice said, belonging to the man she had fought with the first day and saved on this one. “I wronged you once and for that I am sorry. I deserved what you did to me ... and more. Though it may mean nothing to you, you have my loyalty.”

She looked into his face for a moment, seeing a different look in his eyes. She nodded to him. “I accept your apology. That requires its own kind of strength. We all grow in this world. Some for better and some for the worse. It is good to see you choose to grow for the better. Stay on that path and we shall never have conflict between us again.”

“I would like that,” he said, nodding to her before turning and walking away.

Others among the crew approached and spoke with her while she stood with Hamilcar. Like the captain, they offered their gratitude for what she had done to defend their lives against a deadly ocean peril.

That night the mood aboard the ship remained subdued and sorrowful. Rayden and Hamilcar ate a ration of bread and dates in silence by themselves.

When the time came to sleep, she took the boy down into the cargo hold for the night, taking an added precaution. Numerous breaths in the darkness told her that other members of the crew shared her wariness.

Slipping the bonds of consciousness came easily enough afterwards, fatigue of both physical and emotional kinds weighing down upon her. Consoled that the boy remained alive and unharmed, she drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

***

Taking assessment of their losses, it had been found that six men of the crew had fallen to the winged sea predators. The impact of the attack proved enough to require Rayden and the boy to help as best they could with every task involved with sailing the vessel.

A constant vigil maintained both night and day, the crew looked out for any sign of the Makresia. The levity that had been present before the attack vanished, a solemn atmosphere taking hold over the ship. The nerves of the men remained on edge and they spoke in low tones amongst each other.

Rayden knew the ship could ill-afford another such attack. Other monsters dwelled in the oceans and the specter of pirates loomed over any sea journey.

The only comfort came in the news that only one more day remained in the voyage. The sea journey could not end soon enough for Rayden. She hungered to feel solid land beneath her feet, having had quite enough of the seas for a long time to come.

When the time came for sleep that evening, she took the boy into the hold again. Shunning the open skies and continuing to maintain extra caution, they only had to survive until the next afternoon.

The following night they would enjoy a proper night’s sleep in an inn, after consuming a bountiful meal. The pleasant thought helped to make enduring a sweat-filled night lying in a musty cargo hold a little easier to bear.

***

The large port city of Iellia drew into sight on the horizon about midday, instantly buoying the spirits of Rayden, Hamilcar, and all the crew. Seeing the end of the journey approaching and land before her eyes, a wave of relief flooded Rayden.

The threats of pirates and sea creatures alike would be coming to an end long before sunset. In truth, only the latter danger remained. No pirates of any sense would risk coming so close to a port harboring a large force of Kartajenian war galleys.

Rayden rested her hands on the top strake of the vessel, watching the city grow larger as the winds pushed them steadily closer. A number of thoughts passed through her mind, a new set of circumstances looming near.

She knew that she would not be able to let down her guard when they went ashore. As in Kartajen, larger cities contained their own array of dangers and were no place for an inexperienced boy to wander about. She intended to keep Hamilcar close to her side until they reached open countryside and were heading north.

After a finding a good night’s rest in a suitable inn, Rayden planned to start for the north and the tribal lands as soon as possible. The longer they tarried in Iellia, the more trouble they courted.

An attractive woman like Rayden lingering around an inn eventually brought the worst elements of humanity slithering from the shadows. Seeking no commotion, it would be best to pass through before she left an abundance of broken bones and blood in her wake.

All around her, the crew began yelling and pointing out toward the sea on the starboard side. Rayden turned away from her view of the city to see what had suddenly agitated them.

With grim observation, she took in the distinctive line of shapes breaking the horizon. She knew what they were, and her mind braced against the unwelcome surprise and everything it portended.

War galleys rode the waves in an oncoming multitude. They approached in a formation that told her at once they were not Kartajenian.

The vessels had bulkier appearances than the typical Kartajenian war galley. The larger, heavier ships reflected the sea fighting doctrine of the Teverens operating them, shedding a little maneuverability in exchange for sheer power.

The sight of a large Teveren fleet approaching Iellia presented a threat she had not anticipated. With calm scrutiny, she watched the galleys’ progress and gauged their speed.

The enemy ships advanced on the port city at a steady pace, though the vessel carrying Rayden would reach the city long before being engulfed by the incoming fleet. That realization stood as the only consolation to be found in the face of the terrible development.

The decks of the enemy galleys bristled with warriors armed and prepared for battle. Wooden turrets had been erected at the bow and stern of the galleys, holding archers and slingers. The Teverens sought to take the clash of a land battle to the water, rather than focus upon ramming the vulnerable sides of an enemy vessel, in the manner of the Kartajenian’s main naval tactic.

Rayden gazed all around the port, but saw no movement on the water. To her astonishment, no sign of a Kartajenian naval response could be found anywhere she looked. Heart sinking, she realized nothing stood between the Teveren fleet and the port.

Medar’s crew worked with urgency to bring the merchant vessel into the port the rest of the way, maneuvering it over to the side of a long quay. An official from Iellia, accompanied by several nervous-looking guards, stood waiting to meet them when the ship drew to a halt.

“Captain, we saw your approach from afar,” the official stated. “Your timing is unlucky. The Teverens assault the city at last, an attack we have long feared would come. Any of your men who would take up arms in its defense may stand with us.”

“What is the meaning of this? A Teveren fleet approaching the harbor with nothing to challenge it?” asked Medar in a loud voice, looking and sounding incredulous. “Where are the warships of Kartajen? You shelter an entire fleet in this port!”

“Our fleet departed a day ago in pursuit of another group of Teveren vessels,” the official replied, his face grim.

“Leaving the city unprotected?” erupted Medar, eyes widening. “Your strongest defense sent out?”

Rayden saw the enemy strategy at once. The first group’s diversion had cleared the port for an entire Teveren war fleet.

On its landward side, the port city had tall, thick walls to shield it. Without a fleet of war galleys to protect it, the city’s seaward front presented a soft underbelly, vulnerable to a concerted enemy assault.

“There is no time to argue about what should have been done,” the official countered in a hard tone. “We are being attacked now. Those who will stand can go with the guards to take up what they can find in the garrison’s arsenal. I do not have to tell your men what will happen to this city should it fall to the Teverens.”

“It might be well to flee it,” the captain retorted. “That fleet will land here soon.”

“Two Teveren legions are assembled outside the city walls,” the official informed him. “There is nowhere to flee. We must defend the city.”

Murmurs and curses broke out from the men on the vessel. Rayden kept silent, though the situation appeared to be turning increasingly dire, with every passing moment.

“So we are trapped? An entire fleet at your back and a pair of legions at your front!” shouted Medar, his words rife with exasperation. “What fools you were to let your fleet stray! How could you be so stupid?”

“Yelling will do no good. I have told you, your men who will fight can take whatever they require from our arsenal,” the official replied. “Captain, there is no time to argue. We must defend the city or do nothing and allow it to be sacked, with everything that will come in the wake of the city’s fall. You choose.”

Rayden and the men of the crew needed no reminder of the attack’s imminence. One glance showed the Teveren fleet drawing perilously close.

Even if Medar wished to try and escape the harbor, he could not. A war vessel with its multiple banks of oars and rowers could easily overtake a single-sail merchant vessel.

Several of Medar’s crew agreed to join in the defense of Iellia at once. Taking up their own weapons, they gathered with the guards on the quay and waited to be led to the city’s arsenal.

Rayden made her way over to the captain. Fuming at the side of his ship, he watched his crew disembarking while glancing back periodically to mark the progress of the incoming enemy fleet.

“You are a man who honors his word, Medar,” she told him in a low, firm tone. “You have my gratitude ... and my respect.”

“We escaped death on the open sea, only to find it again this soon,” the captain replied with a sad look in his eyes. “I would rather we face those sea beasts again than be trapped in a Teveren siege. Will you stand in the city’s defense?”

“I will cut any Teveren down in my path, but my oath is to ward this boy,” Rayden said. “I must do what I can to see him to safety.”

Medar nodded, looking at her for a moment before replying. “I understand. May good fortune walk with you always, Rayden Valkyrie. May death never have you in its clutches. It has been my honor to know you.”

“May you slip death’s grasp to see an abundance of better days ahead,” Rayden told the captain, every word she said to him heartfelt. They grasped each other’s forearms and looked one another in the eyes. “Goodbye, Medar. I hope our paths cross again.”

“As do I,” the captain responded, though the resigned tone of his voice told her that he did not think the possibility likely.

Releasing his arm, Rayden turned and ordered Hamilcar to follow her. Time had grown short and they needed to get away from the water.

As they started to walk away, the captain’s voice called out to her. “Rayden!”

Turning, she raised her hand to catch the small brown object that Medar tossed to her. She heard metallic clinks as the pouch she had given the captain at the beginning of the sea journey hit her palm. She closed her fingers about the leather container.

“Take that with you,” Medar said. “You more than earned your passage, and I believe you will find a way free of here. Maybe that will be of help to you.”

She stared at the captain for a moment, moved by the gesture. “Thank you.”

“May the gods protect you, Rayden Valkyrie,” Medar said. “Now go, I have delayed you long enough.”

Rayden nodded to him once more, before turning and gesturing for Hamilcar to come with her. At a brisk pace, they walked off the ship together, heading from the quay into a city huddling in the shadow of an impending attack.

Finding an inn out of the question, Rayden determined to get the boy away from the city as soon as possible. The Teverens had come with the strength to take the city and when it fell the streets would flow with blood.