Skana lay spread out on the bed in her room at the inn, she let her head fall to one side and stared at the bowl of hot stew that still had steam rising up like tendrils of smoke. She turned her head back up toward the ceiling and covered her eyes with her forearm.
“By the Gods of Qadish and all mankind… I made it.” She breathed the words as a prayer and felt the salty sting of her tears against her arm. “I really thought I was as good as dead there for a while.” She used her other hand and touched the spot on her body where the arrow pierced her flesh the day prior. “Nearly killed by my hero while trying to become good enough to meet her in person… what a twisted irony that would be.”
She thought back to the Siege of Prioche, the fire, the death, the smell of smoke. ‘I was such a damn fool.’ Skana thought, recalling the weight of the stewpot that she had to haul to the fighters acting to defend them from becoming the prisoners and food of demihumans again.
‘Even while they protected us, we avoided her… the Mad Archer of Jadara…’ Nobody would even come close enough to ladle soup into her bowl, the already fearsome face made worse by her banshee battlecry and the blood stained flesh. Looking back on the moment when she first saw the woman up close on the last day, the sullen, weary look of a drawn face that had missed one too many meals, she had to wonder… ‘Didn’t it bother her that she had to come to us while we went directly to the others and passed out the bowls?’
If it had, the woman hadn’t said anything.
‘Another thing I have to make up for.’ Skana vowed in the privacy of her mind, her stomach growled and she forced herself to sit up, there’d been no food given to her yesterday, or that morning, and asking for some seemed like a bad idea.
‘Maybe that’s why she gave me the extra money?’ She wondered, given that her life had been spared it seemed improbable that keeping her hungry had been the intent. On the other hand, the captive peasants hadn’t been fed. ‘One day hunger so I experience a taste of their days… not that I didn’t already know.’ She thought as she sat down, the stew was thick with meat, potatoes, and a dark brown broth that hid sliced up carrots, onions, and other materials she didn’t recognize.
She dunked her bread into the stew and tore a chunk free of the whole, a loud, “Mmmmm.” Passed her tight shut lips while she chewed and began to devour her first proper meal since before her capture.
She ate and ate until there was not a crumb or morsel left, and for good measure she took up the wooden bowl and began to lick the juices free, indifferent to the woody flavor that the juices carried with them. She let out a hearty belch and leaned back in her seat.
Across from her was no one, a rare thing in her life, and so strange was it that it was enough to make her stand and waver between the window and the door. ‘She didn’t tell me not to leave the inn. But I’d hate to think this was implied and I missed it…’ She settled for the moment on the next best thing, going to the window to watch people.
She flung open the wooden shutters and folded her arms on the window sill, the breeze caressed her skin and her short auburn hair wafted like loose spider silk.
Her eyes took in the scene outside, a bustling world below that seemed to have never known war. There was a clear answer for the reason why.
‘The bastards didn’t send any aid until we’d almost driven the demihumans out ourselves.’ The war never made it to the southern border, and as a result?
When she looked out, she saw clean walls with no bloodstains, intact buildings with no new construction, everybody within the walls was well fed, horses on the streets were as common as fish in the Long River that stories said ran the entire length of the continent. ‘Nobody here slew their horses for food or lost them in battle.’ Just looking at them she could still taste the surprisingly sweet flavor of horsemeat.
People walked with confidence, spoke casually to each other in the streets without any reticence or fear that they were being watched by thieves or that they were about to be ambushed and slaughtered for a crust of bread.
‘It’s like a whole other world…’ She thought as the sound of opening shutters hit her ears. She turned to look and saw Speranzi looking out too, watching people walk past in the city streets, lost in whatever thoughts she had of her own, she seemed not to have noticed that Skana was near, and the ex-bandit leaned back so that it wasn’t obvious that she was the one watching.
‘What are you so afraid of? So what if she likes to watch people too? Say hello…’ She told herself, but every time she tried to make her body move, she simply couldn’t. It refused to lean out again, let alone lean out to wave.
“You said all that before, but now you can’t say hello? Coward.” She mumbled to herself, and remained how she was, content to watch until there was nothing left to do but sleep for the night.
Speranzi Jadara was up before the sun as was her routine, she stretched, washed herself with the basin of water left outside her room dressed in her clothing and armor, put on her sword, slung her bow, and left.
Stolen story; please report.
‘I wonder if she’ll be there?’ The thought crossed the noble’s mind, the money she’d been given had been enough for a room and two meals, or enough for her to buy passage away from the fort and off to some other city if she chose. It still struck her as absurd the way the woman reacted to her.
‘It didn’t sound like she was lying though… and if she is here, well-’ Speranzi stopped thinking to herself when she saw the woman down on her knees and lowering her face to the stone as Corwin emerged from the merchant’s guild headquarters.
“Well, would you look at that.” Speranzi said as she came close, Corwin appeared more befuddled than anything. His deep set eyes were still clouded by sleep, unsure of what to make of the woman making an obedient posture toward him.
It wasn’t until Corwin reached her that Skana almost shouted, “I’m sorry! I will make up for my part in the strike on your caravan!”
His face darkened immediately, the sleep ripped from his eyes by her unexpected confession and apology, he was not however, of a mind to forgive so lightly.
Nor however, was he prone to rashness. “You know something about this, don’t you Speranzi?”
“I do.” The mercenary noble answered, “She has… quite the story. I’m going to take her on with me, after a quick test to see if she’s able to do what she says she can do.”
Corwin’s body tensed as he looked down at the aspiring member of the ranks of the Black Quivers. “You’d really take a bandit into your numbers? At least the rest of your people are of good family. You want a thief, a murderess for your own? Speranzi,” he shook his head and rested his arm on the empty wagon, “I’ve never questioned your judgment since the first time you got me and my people home safe with a big fat profit, but this?”
“I’ll take responsibility for her. If she takes so much as a mug of your ale without paying up front or permission to do it, I’ll get rid of her myself and compensate you twice over for any losses you incur because of her.” Speranzi promised, and that seemed to mollify the merchant.
“Fine. But keep it away from me, and I won’t pay any advance that goes toward it either.” He said, but looked not at Speranzi, but down at the back of the head of the prostrate former bandit. “You came with the people who tried to kill us, don’t think I’ll forgive it, don’t think I’ll forget it. Stay away from me. That’s as close as you’ll ever get to my forgiveness.” Corwin said while glaring down at the woman, and Skana only grunted a wordless answer.
“Now get up and prepare yourself, you heard me, Skana.” Speranzi said, making a point of using the former captive’s name. Corwin spat into the stone beside the bandit’s face, a tiny bit of spatter striking her cheek, she didn’t wipe it clean before she stood up, her head hanging a little as she turned from him to face her new leader.
“My soldiers will be here shortly, when they are, you can borrow a sword and a suit of armor. Use that, and try to kill me.” Speranzi ordered, Skana raised her head and opened her mouth, stuttering silently for several seconds before she asked…
“Are you… sure? I might really do it?” Skana shuddered, “I-I don’t think I could really try to take your life. Couldn’t we use practice swords?”
“Keep your oath.” Speranzi snapped the phrase crisply and Skana’s body went stiff from the aura of command that seemed to radiate outward from the noblewoman.
“I obey.” Skana vowed, “Reluctantly.”
“As long as it is fully, I don’t care if it is reluctant. You have to demonstrate some worth or my people will never accept you. And you’re going to have to work even harder to do it than anyone else.” Speranzi told her, “most of my people are Qadishi and from devout houses. You know what that means for you even in the best of times. Plus you’re a peasant and a captured bandit.”
“I do.” Skana answered, and watched the black armored mercenaries begin to file into view from wherever their common quarters were located.
“Then prepare yourself, most mercenary companies go into a fight planning to lose two out of every ten if things go well. I go into a fight expecting to lose one if things go badly.” Speranzi said with a boastful grin on her face that might as well have screamed, ‘I eat souls’.
Even at her most contented, her expression could not help but appear to delight in horror. Skana however, was unperturbed.
She didn’t see a need to answer the boast, only focusing herself and gathering her body’s natural mana reserves to use her martial skills as soon as the match began.
The unit of one hundred formed up in four ranks of twenty-five, and while their eyes were nominally straight ahead, they did keep an eye toward Skana out of sheer curiosity.
“We have a new one joining our ranks today, assuming she can pass the test of blades.” Speranzi said and removed her bow to set it behind her. “Most of the time, as you know, a person can give in. They can surrender and walk away having given up on the test. But this time things are different. This one,” she gestured behind her to the waiting Skana, “was captured with the bandits. I’ve determined she gets a chance at least. But there is no surrender for her. She fights until seven out of ten will accept her, or eventually she will bleed out on the stone.”
A rumble went up from the ranks of mercenaries, “One of you, stand aside as not casting a vote, and give her your sword and armor to test with. She will pay for any necessary repairs if she lives, or I will, if she doesn’t.” Speranzi promised, and for a moment no one moved.
‘Will I have to fight barehanded and unarmored?’ Skana wondered, there was an ugly thought. ‘Unarmored versus armored is not even a fight, it’s murder, unarmed to? I might as well be a babe thrown to rabid wolves?’
“I’ll do it.” A young man not much taller than Skana finally said and stepped out of line, he was a beardless youth, his armor would be a good fit for her, if not perfect. He had a shy look to his face and a nervous looking set of hazel eyes set in a fine featured face. “She might as well get a shot, right?” He asked his comrades, who only grumbled noises that might have been words if they cared enough to make them.
He approached Skana and hauled his armor off over his shoulders, and then as she put her arms up and crouched down, he put the armor on over her body. “Hold still.” He said and reaching under the shoulders, he yanked on a hidden strap and tightened the leather the armor was secured to, making for a slightly better fit.
“Now this, and good luck.” He said and unbuckled his belt with the sword sheath secured to it still.
Skana gave a numb nod to the boy as the moment began to come down on her. He moved aside, just out of formation.
Skana fumbled with the swordbelt, her fingers already sweating, endless hours over years of study seemed to run away from her mind as the veteran warrior marched a few paces away.
The belt was cinched tight a moment later and Skana grabbed the hilt with one hand.
“Call it!” Speranzi shouted, and her soldiers called out as one…
“Begin!”