Amazon Chief (25 page)

As if she knew what we were discussing, Balorie turned to my warrior.
"Omie, how is Gweneth's training coming?" Gweneth was Queen's Town's newest companion, the only addition this spring. She was Balorie's companion, not that you could tell, as little time as Balorie was in Queen's Town.

Omie had her cheek pressed against mine, so I felt it when she frowned.
She shifted position to face Balorie across the campfire. "She would progress faster if she spent more time with her warrior." It was the closest I'd ever seen to my warrior dressing down another warrior. "Beria, what are your impressions?"

"Me?" I squeaked.

"Yes," Omie said.

I turned around in Omie's arms and whispered in her ear. "Please don't ask me to tell."

"She needs to hear it, Beria," Omie whispered back. "I want a proper report. Consider it an order."

"You suck," I told her, but I kissed her ear to take the sting away. Then I pulled out of her arms and turned so I could address both Omie and Balorie at the same time. "Gweneth misses her family. She cries at night, the nights you aren't there, Balorie. She and her older sister shared a bed, and this is the first time in her life she's slept alone. She's hinted a few times, trying to invite herself to a slumber party, but so far, we're all pretending to not understand." I paused. "As far as becoming a warrior, she's too gentle. She doesn't have the instinct."

"Like Maya," Bea said. "Maya can be very fierce and even at times, blood-thirsty, but by and large, she is a protector, not a fighter. Well, not with steel. She'll fight with her tongue given the smallest of excuse."

There were a few wry chuckles. Everyone was familiar with her tongue and happy it was rarely directed at
her.

"Bea is right," I said. "Gweneth tries, but I don't believe she has it in her. However, she is very sweet, and I have never heard her complain. If I would guess, I would say she will remain a companion forever, if she doesn't become so despondent and lonely that she asks to be allowed to go home."

Balorie sighed. "I believe that's the first time I have been dressed down by a companion not my own," she said.

"I was not dressing you down," I said. "I was offering my honest evaluation as ordered by my warrior. If you took it as criticism, that is not my fault."

"Ouch," said Ping. "Her sister's sister."

I
sat up straighter. I'd been called worse.

"And I've heard Maya dress you down," Ping added. "So not the first time."

There were chuckles at that.

"Maya is a special exception," Balorie said. "Training leader-" and then she paused and looked at me. "And training leader's companion, do you have suggestions?"

"What if I have suggestions?" Bea asked.

"I don't believe 'more wrestling' is the solution," her warrior said. Bea loved to wrestle.

"Hey!" Bea said. "I might have other ideas."

"Then I am sure you will share them," Balorie said. "Omie?"

"Her warrior should be helping to train her," Omie said. "You brought her home, stayed one patrol cycle, and then you have been gone. It is almost as if you are afraid to be home with her." Omie paused. "I did not want this discussion with an audience, but Vorine and I were going to talk to you the next time we were all in place. That hasn't happened for weeks. If you do not spend more time with her, then we were going to bring it to Queen Malora's attention."

"I have duties," Balorie said.

"You have a new companion," Omie said. "And don't even wonder whether Maya has noticed the situation. She has."

"Maya sees everything," I said.

"What other suggestions do you have?" Balorie asked.

I turned to Omie and said quietly, "She isn't going to be a warrior. So what does she need to learn?"

Omie sighed. "I don't want to try to solve this immediately. Bea and Beria, can the companions address her loneliness?"

"Are you offering slumber parties in our hut?" I asked. She nodded. I glanced
over at Bea.

"We'll take care of it," Bea said. "But whatever we do is only a partial solution."

I eyed my opponent. We stood just outside lunging distance from each other, the tips of our swords raised to eye height in between us. I was taller with a longer reach. We were both fast. She had more experience and hoped to use it to intimidate me. I wouldn't let her.

I swirled the tip of my sword in a small circle, passing under her sword and back up to slap lightly against the edge, tapping the line of her blade just slightly away. She mirrored my motion. Then I did it again. "Tap. Tap. Tap." Our swords sang lightly to each other.

But then the motion her sword tip made was just slightly larger than it had been, and her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, and I knew she was about to lunge. I dipped the tip of my sword below hers, my timing perfect, and instead of her sword tapping firmly against mine, knocking my defense out of the way, she hit empty air, and it was her sword that overshot it's mark
. Oh, not by much, just a smallest of amounts, but as she lunged, I turned to my right, presenting a smaller target, tucking my right shoulder out of the way, and using my sword to help hers pass to my right.

I continued my turn, my left hand reaching across to clasp my opponent's right wrist, stretched way out in front of her in a perfect lunge. I rolled further, my back now to my opponent, my right leg sweeping out to hook behind my opponent's legs, and then I lifted her arm over my head and began to uncoil, throwing my opponent over my hip, my hand still clasping her right wrist, now raised to the air as she tumbled onto her side in front of me. An instant later, I rested the tip of my sword carefully against her neck.

There was a moment of silence.

"Damn, Beria," said Omie from below me. "Who taught you that?"

"Nori did," I said, helping her to her feet. I glanced over and caught Nori's smile.

"Point and match to Beria," Nori said. "Congratulations!"

Omie pulled me into a hug, mindful of both our practice swords. "I'm so proud of you," she said.

"Did you let me win?" I asked her. "Sort of a birthday present?"

"Oh, is that today?" she asked. "We stopped celebrating two years ago." Today I turned eighteen. She chuckled. "You earned that win, and you know it." She kissed me deeply, and we ignored the teasing from the assembled Amazons.

"All right, you two," Nori said eventually. "Clear the space for the next match. Who hasn't gone?"

Omie and I separated then moved to the edge of the training circle and sat down. Almost everyone had fought, and Nori was looking out over the assembled Amazons. Everyone knew who hadn't fought yet, but my sister was keeping her mouth shut.

"Maya," I said, "looking smaller isn't going to do you any good."

"Shut up, Beria. She might have forgotten about me."

"Nori never forgets," I countered. "Suck it up, Sister. Come on, I'm tired from my bout with Omie."

"No way," she said. "I'm tired of getting beat up by my little sister. Where's Gweneth? She always pulls her strikes." But she stood up and stepped into the training circle, carrying a practice staff. She looked around and sighed. "Queen Malora, come make this quick," she said.

Malora laughed, climbing to her feet. But instead of picking up her own practice staff to match Maya, she carried two swords. That was probably kindness; the swords left fewer bruises than the staffs did, although Malora's control was good enough she only left bruises when she was making a point. I had gotten good with the staff, but I preferred the precision of the sword, and I'd even been practicing with two swords lately. But I found I preferred keeping one hand free. It gave me options for moves like the one I'd just used on my warrior.

Malora and Maya squared off, but then Maya backed away.

"Wager," she said to her warrior.

Everyone grew silent again.

"Wager?" Malora asked. "Seriously?"

"I bet you can't win without one of us getting hurt," she said. "A bruise, a wrenched muscle, something," Maya said. Malora chuckled. "Winner gets her hair washed later."

Maya was twenty-seven. For most of the year, she was ten years older than I was, but for the three months following my birthday, it was only nine years. Twenty-seven wasn't old; Malora was fifteen years older and going strong. But lately Maya had been complaining the aches and pains seemed to last longer, and she was going to greater and greater lengths to avoid them. She'd been asking Malora and Nori to excuse her from training, but so far, that hadn't gotten her anywhere. The rest of us tried to be gentle with her.

But it was physical training. You got bruises, wrenched muscles, sprained ankles, cuts, scraps, and no end of other complaints. It was part of being an Amazon.

"Come here, little companion," Malora said. "I'll be gentle."

"Yeah, right," Maya said. But she stepped forward, and the moment Nori said, "Fight," she sprang into action, not waiting for her warrior. She used the greater weight of the staff to sweep both of Malora's swords out of line, then reached out with her staff to attempt a strike against Malora's side.

Instead, Maya stepped into and through the strong point of the swing, and the staff slid along her hip instead of striking with force. She knocked Maya off balance, and as Maya stumbled backwards, trying to keep her feet, Malora's swords both tapped against Maya's shoulder, one after another, one-two.

"Point to Malora," Nori said.

"Did I hurt you?" Malora asked?

Maya shook her head and raised her staff. Nori called, "Fight." Maya beat away an attack and swung. Malora used one sword to lift Maya's staff over her head, deflecting the blow, and the other came around to slap Maya's backside.

It was a solid rap, but not enough to leave a bruise. Maya still stepped away, rubbing her bottom. Then she lifted her staff again. Maya attacked rapidly, and Malora gave way. Then she feinted with her right sword. Maya stumbled, caught off balance, and Malora's left sword came down to touch Maya's neck. But Maya was off balance, and she hooked her staff against Malora's arm, adding weight to her hand, and in response, the wooden sword. As Maya fell over backwards, the sword dragged against her neck.

If it had been naked steel, the mistake would have sliced her open deeply. Instead, she was left with a raw red mark across the crease of her neck as it met the shoulder.

She landed on her ass, dropped her staff, and clutched at her neck. Nori was immediately at her side, struggling to pull Maya's hands from her neck so she could see.

"Let me look! Maya! Let me look!"

Slowly, Maya let Nori peel her hands from her neck. There was a long, angry mark along her neck, but it wasn't bleeding.

I popped to my feet. "I'll get the cream," I said, and I ran back towards the village. We kept all our medical supplies in the storage room near the kitchen. It used to be Maya's self-assigned task to manage the inventory, but over the last two years, I'd been taking some of her duties from her, and keeping inventory was one of them. At first, she tried to resist, but I invited myself to her hut one evening and said simply, "Maya, you once taught me a word."

"What word is that?" she had asked.

"Delegate."

Reaching the storage room, I grabbed one of our first aid kits. I knew it was complete, as I had made sure very recently. Without pause, I ran back to the training center.

Maya was still sitting on her ass, Malora kneeling in front of her. Maya was leaning forward, her forehead against Malora's chest. They were clasping hands, and I could see Maya's knuckles were white.

I knelt down at Nori's side, opening the first aid kit and handing her the right jar of cream, twisting it open for her as I handed it to her. Nori reached in with two fingers, collecting some of the cream on the tips, and said, "It's going to hurt going on, but it will feel better in a moment, Maya."

"Do it," she said.

Nori spread the cream on my sister's neck. She didn't flinch, but she stiffened and then, after a few moments, began to relax. The cream was like magic. It wasn't; it was made for us by a village far to the south from herbs harvested from the swamps that defined our southern border. But it was cool and soothing.

Maya was the most common recipient, but we'd all experienced its healing power. Nori handed the jar back to me, and I capped it before repacking the first aid kit.

"It's probably going to scar," Nori said quietly.

Maya sighed. "What else is new? Another scar, and not a single one gotten legitimately." All of Maya's wounds were from training accidents. Everyone else living in the village with scars like hers had gotten at least some of them in actual combat, either with a demon or bandits. "Help me up." She turned to Malora. "Zero to three. Two more."

I collected the medical kit and resumed my place in the grass outside the training circle, sitting next to Omie.

Maya picked up her staff, hefted it, and turned to Malora. "Fight," she said, barely giving Malora a chance to lift her own swords before coming after her.

Twice before I'd seen Maya give up in fights, letting her opponent score the last two or three points without putting up even a token defense. Both incidents had made both Nori and Malora livid, and they'd been especially cruel with her, yelling at her they never wanted to see her give up like that again. And so she fought for every point, rarely scoring against the warrior
s and lately, against Bea or me either.