See Chapter One (A) for Disclaimers
"My brothers thought it would be easy to rob you. You didn't kill them?" the girl asked and Dar shook his head. The girl went on, "Why not? They would have killed you. Why didn't you kill all of us when you had the chance?"
"Because it was not necessary. I only kill when I must. What's your name, young one?" Dar asked as Tao left his hiding place with Aveta tucked in his arms. Ruh padded to Dar's side, and the girl took a step back. Dar said softly, "It's all right. He won't hurt you."
The girl swallowed hard, returned her gaze to Dar, and whispered, "Atalla. My name is Atalla. I come from the tribe of the Twilan. Most of our people were killed by the Terrons half a year ago, and we've been foraging and stealing ever since then."
Tao saw a muscle tighten in Dar's jaw, but his friend said gently, "I am Dar, and this is my friend Tao. The little one is Aveta. Could you help us, Atalla? The baby needs food, and we were hoping to find goat's milk in the village ahead. Would you know if such a tavern exists?"
Atalla nodded, then froze. She asked in a tiny voice, "You . . . you said your name was Dar?" Tao's friend bobbed his head, and the girl moaned, "Ohhh, no. You fools! You chose the BeastMaster as a target!" She stamped her foot, and the two friends looked at each other in astonishment.
~*~*~*~
Once the girl, Atalla, finished spewing about the general foolishness of men, she proceeded to explain that after the slaughter of their tribe, she and her brothers had taken to stealing to survive. Atalla was tired of it, but the boys had come to enjoy it.
At least, until they heard the story of another survivor of a Terron raid. A young man, around the same age as Atalla's oldest brother. And it was determined that they would do one more job, then go off in search of the survivor. The last surviving male of the Sula tribe . . . Dar.
As he listened to the girl's narrative, Dar wasn't sure if he should be flattered or insulted. A quick glance to his side told him that Tao was grinning broadly, and Dar rolled his eyes. Atalla concluded, "I suppose it never occurred to them that a man who protected others from Terrons, would also take care of a newborn babe. Fools."
Tao opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Especially when Dar looked at him warningly. The scholar swallowed hard, then asked, "Would you know where to find some food for the little one? Preferably goat's milk." The girl had been pacing around the unconscious bodies of her brothers as she talked, and she smiled.
"Yes, you did ask about a tavern, did you not? And aye, there is one. My brothers robbed it a few nights back. I don't know if they have goat's milk, but I'm sure some arrangement can be made. Especially if I were to return what was stolen . . . through you," Atalla replied.
She paused, then asked, "Forgive me for my curiosity, but where do you go with the babe? And where did you find the little one?" She glared at a groan which emerged from one of her brothers, and muttered again, "Fool! One of these days, you'll learn to listen to me!"
Dar bit back a smile . . . he really didn't think young Atalla would take kindly to it. And, he hoped Curupira took pity on the young girl, since Atalla reminded him so strongly of the divine spirit. He answered, "We're taking her to my sister. She's a tribal leader, and a mother herself."
"Your sister? But I thought there were only two Sulas remaining, and one of them . . . well, was in captivity," Atalla asked. The brother closest to Dar groaned again, and the girl glared at him, repeating, "You are a fool, Daneurth. One more job, you said . . . except, your one more job was the BeastMaster himself!"
She looked back at Dar and smiled sweetly, adding, "Please, forgive me, BeastMaster. I am the youngest, but there are times when I would swear that I am the only one of us who has a working brain!"
"I know the feeling well, Atalla," Tao chortled. "Too well! You asked about Dar's sister. Mira was abducted by the Varoni tribe when she was a child, and rose to become their queen. She's known by her Varoni name now, Carrin."
Atalla's eyes widened and she replied in a hushed voice, "I had heard of such things! When I was small, my parents told us that if we weren't good, the Varoni would come and take us away. What a terrible thing . . . but you found her. And now she is a queen in her own right."
Dar blushed as she stared at him adoringly. One of these days, he would have to ask Mira why women . . . no matter what age . . . reacted in such a way to him. Tao said, drawing Atalla's attention away from Dar, "Since she is the Varoni queen, we hope she knows of a family for this little one."
Atalla smiled at him brightly and replied, "Well! I must not keep you . . . the babe needs fed, and I should see to my two oaf brothers. Follow this path to the village. It's a short distance to the tavern, but be careful. There are foolish men in the village, and they don't like strangers. Especially not strange men with babies. Have a care."
"We will . . . good luck to you, Atalla," Dar said, "and try not to be too hard on your brothers. At their age, they can be foolish, but hopefully, they'll grow out of that."
And you would know a great deal about the actions of foolish young men, Sharak said in amusement, since you can still be very foolish. Dar rolled his eyes. He didn't think he would live that down any time soon.
The girl beamed at him again, then went to her brothers. Dar said, "I can take Aveta again." Tao gently placed the baby in Dar's arms, then the two young men began walking again. Dar said softly, "She can't be more than fourteen or fifteen, but she'll be a hellion when she gets older."
"Will be? Dar, she's already a hellion . . . maybe the next time we pass through here, we should take her to your sister," Tao suggested. Dar grinned . . . that was almost frightening, but Tao had a point. Tao laughed unexpectedly and said, "Now do you see why maps have a purpose? Without one, we wouldn't be able to find our way to villages!"
Dar said nothing. What could he say?
~*~*~*~
There were times when Gereon thought he was losing his wife. In so many ways, she was still the girl who had been forcibly dragged into the Varoni camp, nearly twenty years earlier. The same girl who had screamed in anguish as Rudianus died. The same girl whom he had married.
But at the same time . . . she wasn't. That had been Carrin, the adoptive daughter of the Varoni chieftain. And like most of the adults in this village, she had another name once. Mira, of the Sula. Daughter of Ril and Etain, sister of Dar. Chosen of the gods, whether she knew it or not.
As the young queen of the Varoni knelt at the side of a woman who was very close to giving birth, Gereon watched in silent awe. How could he not? This was his wife, who was helping a woman bring life into the world. He was one of the few men who could remain in the birthing chambers-one of the privileged few who could witness the miracle of life.
His wife wasn't much older than the girl about to give birth. Her dark brown tied back from her face with a
kerchief, dressed in a gray smock, she looked like no one's idea of a queen. She looked like a midwife, like a healer. Like the woman Gereon loved.
The woman he loved, but barely knew. He understood why she had never told him about her early life. In the name of Magus, the protector of his tribe, he understood. But nonetheless, it hurt. It hurt because he loved her, he trusted her, and he had thought she trusted him. It hurt because there were ten whole years of his wife's soul that he knew nothing about.
And there was something else. Their son. Why had she never told him that she had named their son? To give a name to something, as Tao had said, gave it power. But it also allowed both parents to grieve for their loss. For their son. Gereon blinked back tears. Gods, why hadn't Carrin told him even about that? Marinde had tried to explain, tried to tell him that it was grief once more.
But as hard as he tried, Gereon couldn't understand. He couldn't understand why his wife hadn't allowed him to share the grief of losing their son. Why, when she had wept silently and steadily in his arms after the death of her foster father, could she not trust him with this?
Gereon's musings were brought to a halt as the woman screamed. The consort looked around wildly, then realized that her time was coming. He asked his wife, "Is there anything I can do? Another blanket, or anything like that?" Carrin shook her head, her face grim.
"No, nothing like that. She needs nothing material. But if you wish to help . . . ?" she began, and Gereon nodded eagerly. Anything was better than just standing here like a fool. His wife continued, "Get behind her and hold her shoulders, hold her hand. Give her something to hold onto. That will help tremendously." Gereon blinked at the simplicity of the request, then did as she asked.
And it gave him a chance to watch the changing expressions on her face. He ventured as he knelt behind the girl and drew her back to rest against his chest, "It makes sense. Not even a seasoned warrior must endure such pain, with nothing to hold or touch. Where did you learn?"
"This? My aunt Aveta. And my mother. They were both midwives, and I learned many things from them both. I remember my aunt sometimes sitting behind a woman giving birth, just holding her shoulders or holding her hands," Carrin answered, then told the girl, "I need to check again, to see if the baby is ready to come out."
The girl nodded and Carrin ducked her head under the blanket which covered her lower body. She said, her voice somewhat muffled, "And helping her to sit up also helps her to push the babe out. Something I never realized, not really, until I had children myself." That was the opening which Gereon had been seeking.
But before he could ask the question which had been weighing on his mind, the girl screamed and Carrin hastily popped back out from under the blanket. She murmured, shaking her dark hair from her eyes, "Well, ready or not, here he comes." Gereon just gulped and held on.
~*~*~*~
Only a daughter of Etain would have thought of allowing a man, a warrior, to remain in the birthing chamber. Pelagia shook her head, chuckling to herself. Too many warriors didn't understand the strength and courage it took to birth a child . . . the pain which each mother endured.
As a goddess, Pelagia could watch over both children at the same time . . . Dar, with Tao and the babe, journeying from her daughter's forest, and his sister in the village. Pelagia gazed at the young BeastMaster and his friend fondly one last time, then materialized in the birthing chamber where a new life was making its way into the world.
She was only slightly concerned about possible complications . . . but Pelagia made it a habit to be present at birthings. Animal or human, it made no difference. She was a mother, and the goddess of mothers. She would be nowhere else. Unless two births happened to coincide, in which case she would be at the birthing which had the most potential to be dangerous for mother and child.
As had been the case when Etain birthed both of her children. While it was true that there were no other births at the same time, in both cases, that was not important. Pelagia knew there was a risk to mother and child, both times. She could be nowhere else.
Now this time . . . there was no such risk to mother and child, aside from the normal risks of bringing a new life into the world. It was vastly different than poor little Jadya. Pelagia sighed, saddened by her early death. While it had been the child's time to die, it still saddened her.
Just as it had saddened her sister, the goddess of the afterlife, also called 'Gynt.' At least, among the gods. The mortals had several titles for the underworld, the afterlife. Paradise, Gynt . . . and, in another universe, on another plane, Valhalla. In this place, in this time, Valhalla was the land of dreams and memories. Dreams and memories. Pelagia shook her head. Dreams and memories figured strongly into the life of this young queen.
~*~*~*~
"Wake up, you big oaf . . . one more job, you said, then we can look for the BeastMaster. One more job, then we can ask him to help us," Atalla said, nudging her oldest brother Daneurth with her toe. He groaned, raising his head to glare at her. She glared right back.
"Well, you moron, your last job was the BeastMaster! He and his friend found an abandoned baby, and are taking her to a good family. Now, why do you suppose it is . . . the last Sula male left alive is defending the weak and the innocent, while the three of us are robbing travelers?" Atalla demanded as the younger of her two brothers sat up.
"Don't start, 'Talla. Just don't start," he pleaded. Too late. Atalla was angry. She was angry with her brothers for being stupid enough to attack someone they thought was an easy hit. She was angry with herself for going along with it. And she was angry with whoever neglected to mention that both the BeastMaster and his friend were so handsome!
"Don't start? Don't start? You bloody fools could have gotten us all killed! What if that hadn't been the
BeastMaster, but one of King Zad's warriors? We'd all be dead! Now, I've let the two of you run things long enough, because you're males, and the oldest," Atalla fired back.
She paced back and forth, then glared at her brothers, adding, "That stops right now. We will stop stealing, and we will start helping people. We will be like the BeastMaster and his friend. And we will not hurt someone unless we have no choice. Next time, we might not be so lucky!"
~*~*~*~
"I LIKE that girl," Curupira announced to no one in particular. There weren't many humans she liked . . . in fact, aside from her BeastMaster and his older sister, as well as the Varoni, she didn't have much use for humans in general. But there were a few outside the Varoni who were worthwhile.
"Do you like her spirit, or because she seeks to emulate Dar?" her mother asked and Curupira rolled her eyes. The goddess Pelagia laughed and added, "Not that there's much of a difference there. Her spirit is what leads her to her new journey. And make no mistake . . . it is a journey."
"Mother, why do you like the clumsy one so much? He talks too much, he doesn't respect our laws, and he's annoying," Curupira asked. Her mother just looked at her steadily, and the young guardian felt herself flushing. She was over ten thousand years old, but her mother could still make her feel like a child.
"I like him because he has a quick mind, a good heart, and a rare soul. I like him because he keeps Dar from taking things too seriously, because he seeks to protect the BeastMaster, while the BeastMaster seeks to protect those around him. I like him because he makes me laugh. There's far more to that boy than you realize, Curi. Something Mira has already figured out," her mother answered.
Curupira muttered something rude under her breath, but didn't repeat it out loud. Let her mother worry about the clumsy one . . . Curupira had decided to keep an eye on this young Atalla, while she wasn't looking after the babe. The girl definitely showed potential.
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