The Second

Slave’s Tale

T ell us a tale, Mother , pleaded the boy, as his mother tucked the three siblings into their sleeping blankets.  Tell us the tale of Red Meera. 

Their father snorted in derision, but the golden-haired woman smiled and nodded her head.  Alright, but then you must go right to sleep. With a sigh, she settled down beside the children and began the story that she had invented to entertain her babies. "Long ago, before any of you were born, there was a beautiful princess who lived in a land far away. One day some bad men came and took her away to be a slave. The men were cruel, and eventually she managed to escape them. She stole a ship and sailed it into the east.

"The men were very angry, and they chased after her, but they couldn’t find her. Soon after that, a ship was seen in a far away land. The captain was now a pirate princess. Her name was Meera and she still sails around the world, and no one will ever catch her.

There now, go to sleep for tomorrow is a new day, and it will be filled with new things.

As she slipped quietly away from the children, her mate spoke harshly, causing her to cringe.  Porga, why do you tell such lies to them? Red Meera’s a pirate, a thief, and a murderer. She will make slaves of us all if she isn’t stopped.

To a slave it matters little which master they answer to.

You are not a slave.

You bought me. I dare not leave. What else should I call myself?

You are my chosen mate, now shut up and get over here to our bed. I’ve heard enough from you tonight. Displease me again and it is off to the great wheel for you. 

Trying to hide her fear and disgust, she came to him. A slave by any other name is still a slave, she thought as she removed her poor garment. A few short moments later he grunted and rolled off her.  She slept and dreamed of her days as a child at her father’s house. Her last days of freedom, of joy.

A Fateful Meeting

It was a cold damp day in a strange land, but the three figures trudging along the remnants of an ancient roadway made no complaint. In truth, they barely made a sound, the thickness of their cloaks muffling the odd creak or rattle from their weapons. They had spent nearly a full season wandering through this region, learning what they could of the people, their language, customs, and beliefs. Much of what they had learned did not impress them. 

The trail wound down the hillside and into a broad-leafed forest. As soon as they found a stream the leader and one companion stopped to rest, while the other ran on ahead. What food is left, Kellan? The leader spoke softly in a rich feminine voice.  She shrugged off her cloak, revealing her well-muscled body that was barely concealed by a vest and short kilt.  As the cloak settled to the ground, she sank into a cross-legged position upon it, pulling back her long dark hair and letting it fall down her back as she trained those piercing blue eyes on her companion.

Little enough, Lady Meera. He sighed as he, too, let his cloak fall and sank onto it. A little dried meat, nothing more. He rummaged in his pack for a moment, then pulled out a small leather bag which he passed to her. He was lean and hard muscled as well, but he was obviously older than she, with a road map of battle scars on his bare torso. 

The woman cut off a small piece then passed back the bag as she popped the meat into her mouth and began to chew thoughtfully.  A short while later the third traveler returned. There’s a small walled town up on the next hill, by the edge of a cliff. He grinned as he tossed down his cloak and sank onto it.  There seems to be some sort of gathering. The gates stand open, and no guards are posted. This one was young and, although somewhat brash, still in awe of the woman.

Meera grinned with delight, exposing her slightly canine teeth. They will be in a festive mood.  Perhaps we will do better at trading these strange coins; I could do with some decent food.

Aye, that’s the truth of it, Lady. The old warrior grumbled as he rose easily to his feet.  The land around here still holds traces of the poison, and you can taste it in the meat.

You're spoiled, Father, laughed the youth.  Tella’s cooking has you ruined.

Sadly, Tallon my son, that's the truth of it. 

Enough, any more rest and you both will be ruined.  Let’s go see what the good folk of this land are celebrating.  She rose gracefully to her feet, sweeping her cloak up around her broad shoulders as she did so.  The younger man followed her lead.

As they neared the walled town on the hill, a woman’s keening could be heard amid the rest of the babble.  Not a single guard posted, muttered Meera, as she passed through the open gate.  How have these fools managed to survive?

More by good luck than by good leadership, I’d wager.  Tallon stepped forward as he spoke. A large man was approaching them with a glower on his face.

Who are you?  What do you want here?

We're traders from the south.  Tallon had more easily mastered the language of this region, and so he usually spoke for them.

Then where are your wares?

We were set upon by robbers some days ago, Tallon lied easily.  All we have left to us is a few coins.  We would trade them for food and safe passage on the next ship leaving your fair city.

You're far too smooth of tongue, boy. The man snarled as he stepped closer to go nose to nose with Tallon.  I think you're a band of pirates from the west. Red Meera's been raiding up and down these coasts for years; I think you’re some of her men. Today is a Day of Justice; perhaps we should slay a few pirates as well.

Hold, Broc, called another man, as he approached from a nearby hut. This man was obviously the one in charge, for all gave way at his approach.  We don't slay travelers without good reason. Bring them here. 

Through the entire exchange the woman’s moans could be heard. As they rounded one hut, Meera was suddenly confronted by the author of the keening.  A woman was tied, naked and face down over a large cask, her legs spread well apart exposing her genitals to the world.  She had been beaten, and her head crudely shaved.  The bodies of three children and a young man lay piled a few feet in front of her.  Their throats had all been cut.

The woman’s voice fell silent the moment her eyes met Meera’s.  Something in those steely blue eyes cut through her pain like a knife.  Meera spoke no word, but her eyes went to Tallon’s, and he nodded slightly.

Welcome, travelers. The man in charge approached them with a gesture of greeting.  My name is Born the Strong; I'm chieftain of this clan, and ruler of this city.

I’m Semon, a trader from the south. A sly grin played at Tallon’s lips. My companions are my parents. Unfortunately they have not managed to learn much of your form of speech. Such things are more difficult for the elderly. Tell me, great chieftain, what has transpired here this day?

"This day, friend Semon, I have rooted out a serpent from my own household.  That thing there, was once a slave.  (Here he spat on the helpless woman tied before him.) I freed her and made her my companion, giving her status, and giving her children. I discovered that she has been unfaithful to me all these years, and so I have cast her out and passed judgment upon her. 

Her children I have slain, as I cannot be certain of their parentage. The other is her lover. She has been shaved in shame, and staked out for any man who wants her until the rising of the tide. Broc himself has had her thrice already. He laughed harshly then went on. When the tide is full she will be bound and thrown from the cliffs into the sea. Perhaps the sea gods will accept the sacrifice and bring us good weather for fishing.

Through all this speech Meera had not spoken a single word, nor had she shown any emotion at all. Kellan grinned as he saw the shift of her shoulders. He, too, eased his weapons beneath his cloak. He had to agree with Meera; this fool surely needed killing. The fact that they were badly outnumbered  concerned him, but he did not let it show.

Come friends and travelers, we go to the sacred hill to await the tide with food and drink.  Born waved them on as he turned and led the gathering up the hill toward the cliff edge. He paused to look back, and saw the three strangers still gathered around the tormented woman. A look of concern crossed his face as he called out to them.  Hey there, what are you doing? 

Meera swept her cloak from her shoulders and sat cross-legged upon it near the woman’s head. The cloak settled to the ground, covering most of the dead lying before her.

Tallon smiled easily as he responded to the chieftain’s concern.  It is the custom of our people to prepare each person bound for Summerland. Our wise woman will sit the death watch with this one.

Leave her, she is for the use of the men until the tide comes full, growled Broc, as he returned to where they stood.  I think want her again. 

Broc stepped behind the helpless woman, unfastening his breeks, but Kellan stepped in his way and swept a knife to the man’s throat.  Not pirate, he snarled into the frightened man’s face.  Me want her.  The terrified Broc backed away as Kellan turned to the stricken woman and stepped close behind her.  She gasped as she felt the warmth of his kilt and leggings against her bare body, and then his warm woolen cloak was swept over her, hiding her from view.  He began to rock back and forth gently, keeping her warm and covered.

Some of the townsmen began to return, but Tallon swept aside his cloak, allowing his weapons to show. He slid his long sword easily from the scabbard as his cloak settled over the dead children. Tallon grinned as he leaned on the hilt of his sword. Father is old and will need to take his time.  He will probably not finish before the rising of the tide.

At this point the chieftain called out again.  Leave them, Broc, the tide is nearly full anyway. There’s no need to shed blood over something as foul as that thing.

The woman sobbed a thank you, as her body began to soak up the warmth of Kellan’s cloak.  Why are you not using me, good sir?

In another time and place, did you come to him with smiles and a willing heart, perhaps he might, but not this way; it is unworthy. Tallon replied softly to her question as he kept a wary eye on Broc and the others.  He then switched back to their own language.  We have little time now, the tide comes swiftly.  Lady, what is our course?

Through all the exchange Meera had not budged from her spot, nor had she stopped crooning softly in a language the woman could not understand.  At Tallon’s question her eyes snapped back into focus.  She reached out to lightly caress the woman’s abused scalp, gently touching a remaining tuft of blonde hair.  She’s a golden hair, Tallon.  Golden hair brings good luck, so we’ll take her with us.

They’ll put up a struggle, Lady, Kellan said softly, there are only three of us, and she has been bound a long time. I doubt she can run or fight.

I know, Kellan. When they come for her, back away. Return for the ships and sail north. Take the entire fleet to our stronghold at the abandoned place of the ancients.  Secure the area and prepare for winter. I will join you later.  Tallon, when the time is right you will take my cloak and weapons, and then join Kellan on the trail.

Lady, what are you going to do? Tallon asked softly.

I’ll take to the waters with our new friend. Be ready now, Mista comes with the tide.

What did she say? the woman asked softly.

Tallon patted her shoulder gently as he replied.  Hush now. Your life is about to change.  It will not end this day, but it will change.  For good or ill, I cannot say.

It could not possibly be more ill.

Then trust and be ready.  Hush now for here they come.

Over the Edge

Kellan suddenly withdrew from the woman.  She gasped as the warmth of the cloak was withdrawn, and the cold dampness of the sudden fog seemed to envelope her.  Mista has arrived with the tide as you said, Lady.  Stay sharp, Tallon my son, and stay close to Lady Meera.  When it happens it will happen quickly, and you will need to be swift. You must catch me on the trail, for I cannot wait for you.

I am the rider of the storms; I’m the dancer on the winds, Father.  Tallon grinned wolfishly, his long canine teeth gleaming in the dim light.  I'll catch you, have no fear.  Kellan chuckled and seemed to vanish into the thick gathering fog. He had high hopes for his brash young son, but here in this strange land, and so very far from the old empire, opportunities for advancement might be few and far between.

Broc and several men with spears approached.  Enough. Where is that old fool?

She has taken the good from him.  Tallon slid his sword back into the scabbard and stepped aside.  He has gone to rest, recover his strength, and savor the delights he has tasted.

Well it will have to last him a lifetime; the tide has come, and her fate with it. Broc spat on the ground as he spoke. The men with spears watched the strangers carefully as Broc cut the woman’s bonds then jerked her to her feet. She stumbled and fell, but was hauled roughly back upright. Half dragged, half stumbling, the woman was forced to climb the hill to the waiting Born. Her hands were bound again as were her feet, and then two men grabbed her arms and jerked her to the edge of the cliff.

As the woman was led up the hill to the edge of the cliff, Meera’s shoulders squirmed under her cloak. Unseen by the others, her kilt and vest were passed to Tallon who stowed them in a pack inside his own cloak. Soon her two short swords, and the harness that held them, as well as two of her four daggers, came his way and were stowed out of sight. As the prisoner was moved to the edge, Tallon stepped close behind Meera.  His heart was racing now, for he could guess what she was going to do.

Death to all deceivers, roared Born. He gave the signal and the men thrust the hapless woman over the edge.

Even as the words escaped his lips, and the woman screamed, Meera swept the cloak from her shoulders. Tallon caught it easily as Meera sprang past the startled townsfolk to the cliff edge, easily ducking past, and brushing aside, their feeble attempts to stop her. Naked, except for her boots and the dagger clenched between her teeth, she charged past the men with spears.  Both men at the edge screamed as her wide-swept arms struck them a hammer blow, carrying them both over the cliff with her.  Everyone surged toward the edge of the precipice, and in that moment, Tallon vanished into the mist.

As the bound prisoner fell helplessly toward the dark waters below she did not see the strange woman knock the men off the cliff. They fell as wildly as she, but the warrior woman turned her fall into a graceful dive. Unable to turn in the air with her hands and feet bound, the condemned woman struck the waters with a hammer blow that drove all the air from her lungs.  She fought desperately not to inhale as the waters closed over her, and then strong hands seized her waist, thrusting her upwards to the surface where she lay gasping in her rescuer’s arms.

Swim? Meera asked around the dagger in her mouth.

Yes.

Be still.  She tried to be still as Meera disappeared beneath the surface.  Suddenly her feet were cut free, then her rescuer resurfaced to cut the bonds on her wrists.

The razor fish...

I know. Stay here.  Meera vanished again and the former prisoner tried to make as little movement as possible.  She could hear Born shouting for his men to find and kill them.  The two men in the water were calling for help as well.  Suddenly they screamed and then there was a great threshing of the waters as the razor fish feasted.

Meera swam deep beneath the waters, avoiding the razor fish which like to feed at the surface.  Coming up beneath the men in the water, she slashed at their legs with her dagger then swam away quickly.  The blood would draw the fish.

Meera suddenly reappeared at the woman’s side.  Quickly now, follow me.  The woman didn’t understand the words, but she got the idea. Struggling to keep Meera in sight in the heavy mist and heaving icy cold seas, she forced her exhausted battered body onward.

There are men on the beach, but we have little choice, breathed Meera as she returned to the woman’s side.  Come, I will help you now.  The woman had not understood the words, but with strong hands to help buoy her, she made much better time. Soon the roar of the surf was closer, and then the grip of the waves took her ashore. She was hurled onto the gravel beach, but the waters tried to drag her back.

Again Meera’s hands caught her and pulled her from the water’s deadly grip. Hush now, whispered Meera, laying her finger along her lips for silence, the men are near.

They lay behind a log on the beach as six men with spears tromped by.  How are we supposed to see anything in this bloody fog?

We heard the screams and the razor fish thrashing about; I say they are all dead. Let’s go home to a meal and a warm bed; we can look for whatever's left of the bodies when the sun burns off this accursed fog.

Agreed, replied the first voice as the men turned back. They climbed into their boat then disappeared into the mist. Meera suddenly realized how hard her companion was shivering. She had to get her warm, and soon.

Come, quickly but silently now. Mista will hide our passage, but her breath is cold, and we must find shelter.  With Meera’s help the woman struggled to her feet, and then, despite the pain in her body, followed her rescuer up the beach to the base of the cliff. A short while later Meera found a tree that had fallen from the forest above.  A few moments’ work with her dagger and she had secured a number of branches. She burrowed into the sand beneath the sheltering tree, made a small bed, then motioned her companion to join her there.

Meera’s heart melted at the look of fear in the woman’s eyes. You do not understand a word I say, do you? She smiled gently.  We need to get warm, and we can do that more easily together.  Come to me now. 

She smiled as she patted the sand and, shivering violently, the woman lay down tentatively beside her. Meera covered them both with branches then cuddled the woman into her arms. Sleep now and rest. Tomorrow is a new day, and we must be rested to face it. Suddenly the exhausted woman melted into those friendly arms and began to sob uncontrollably. Meera held her gently, crooning soothing sounds, until the shivering stopped, and the woman cried herself to sleep.

The abused woman awakened in gentle arms to the crippling pain in her own body, and to the sounds of Meera’s deep rhythmic breathing. It took a few moments for her to remember all that had happened the day before, but the aches and pains of her injuries brought the memories with them. As her bladder cried out for relief she tried to ease herself from her companion’s embrace.

Leaving me to freeze in the mist? Meera asked softly, struggling with the woman’s language.

I must relieve myself, Lady, came the soft frightened answer. 

All right, you first. I'll remain here to hold the warmth in. When you've returned I'll go. 

The newly freed captive made her way painfully a few paces then squatted to relieve herself. The fog was thick and she was once again shivering violently when she returned. Gratefully she snuggled back into the warm spot in the sand, and into Meera’s waiting arms. She was held gently once again until she was warm and the shivering stopped.

There, that’s better. Tell me, what's your name, my new traveling companion? She grinned ruefully at the woman’s confused expression.  Name?

Whatever name you give me, Mistress, was the soft tentative reply. I am your slave now.  Whatever name you give me, I will answer to.  Meera rose up on one elbow and gazed into her eyes with a puzzled expression.  Your slave, said the woman softly with down cast eyes.  You give me name.

I am neither so lazy, nor infirm, that I need a slave. I prefer a traveling companion. You can't understand me, I know.  Let me try again.  Your mother, name you did she?  What name?

Oona.  The woman smiled with delight as understanding hit her.  She was to have one of her most precious things returned to her, the name her mother had given her.

My name is Meera.  Meera smiled at her puzzled expression.  Meera, she said as she placed her hand on her breast.  Oona. Meera touched Oona’s chest gently.  Meera, Oona, no slaves here. Friends only.  Now, Oona, are you warm enough again?

Yes, Lady, replied Oona as she got the gist of the question.

Good, for I must abandon you for a few moments.  Do not fear, I will return soon.  Meera chuckled, as the realization that the Red Witch of the Western Isles was her rescuer began to register on Oona’s face. It was obvious that Meera’s reputation had reached all parts of this huge island.

Meera swiftly returned, snuggling into the warmth of their small shelter.  Now, Oona, tell me of this place.  Can we move north along the beach or are there more cliffs?  Meera chuckled at Oona’s expression then tried again.  By using some sign language and a few words they were able to communicate.

This beach is small, Lady Meera, Oona replied deferentially.  We can't go far and we can't return.  When the sun rises men will come in boats to see what the tide has dropped here. They will find us then and kill us.

Only by boat can we be reached?

Yes, none can climb the cliffs.

All right. We need food, fire, clothing, weapons, and a boat. Let us begin with what we have now, my boots, and a dagger each.

A dagger each?

This one for you. Meera smiled as she sat up and passed the dagger to Oona hilt first. And the one in my boot for me.  Now, you make a fire while I see about food.  Meera pulled a small piece of flint from the top of her boot and passed it to Oona, who nodded that she understood. As graceful as a hunting cat, Meera rose to her feet and disappeared into the mist.

What harm can it do, sighed Oona, as she began to search for dry tinder.  I may as well be warm while waiting for death to come.  I will join my children soon enough.

She had a fire going and was warming up nicely when Meera, dripping wet, returned with a good sized flat fish. Meera cut the fish into four strips then squeezed one over her mouth and drank the water. Oona looked puzzled as Meera passed her a piece, but she tried it. The water was surprisingly refreshing. Meera poked sticks through the remaining pieces of fish and cooked them by the fire. Soon they were well fed and warm as the sun burned away the fog and mists.

Oona sighed with near contentment as she finished her piece of fish.  Meera grinned at her and passed over most of her own fish. But, Lady, you must eat too.

You are wounded, Oona; your need is greater. I'll get more food soon, but for now you must eat.  Oona smiled shyly as she accepted the fish and the gesture, if not understanding of the words.  Now then, we have our food and our fire. Let's take our ease until the rest arrives.

The rest?

You did say that men would come here.

Yes.

"Then our clothing, weapons, and boat are on their way. All we can do now is rest and