Jalia At Bay (Book 4) (22 page)

“This is all very interesting,” Jalia said in a voice that implied exactly the opposite, “And I for one, welcome Cara into our camp. But what are we going to do with him?”

“Come with me, Don. See the world with me,” Cara urged hopefully, but Don shoved her away from him as best he could, given the fact that his hands were tied behind his back.

“And leave the family? You are mad, Cara. Mother will never let this rest. When I get back and tell her what you’ve done, she will come in force after both them, and you.”

Hadon blanched as her realized that the threat was as much against him and his friends as against Jalia and Daniel.

Daniel dismounted while Don was talking and moved over to Hala to help her to get down from Blaze.

“I, for one, am hungry and weary,” Daniel told the camp. “Let us drink, eat and wash the dust from the road before we consider this matter further. It’s not as if Don is going anywhere.”

There was much discussion in the camp as they ate. Wilf and Tred Denger thought that they might buy off Brila Marin with a payment of blood money. Nobody disputed that Bril brought his death on himself and there was no sympathy in the camp for him. However, if a small amount of gold could end the dispute, it was worth considering. Dav, Perder and Balaf favored letting Don go as a goodwill gesture and in the hope that Brila would see sense. Tonas kept his own council, offering nothing and looking to his father for direction.

“It’s you two got us into this mess and you should get us out,” Hadon finally announced, looking at Jalia and Daniel.

“I told you we should have let the robbers kill them,” Jalia said to Daniel. “But no, you insisted on getting involved.”

Hadon scowled at Jalia’s implication. He didn’t like to admit, even to himself, that they would have died at the ford if not for the fortuitous intervention of these two adventurers.

“Well I am grateful that you did intervene,” Grilt said, entering the conversation for the first time. “It seems to me that Cara is the only one who can judge what her mother will do, and it is her we should turn to for advice.”

Cara had also been keeping quiet during the discussion, offering no advice when blood money had been suggested. Don snorted at that suggestion, but otherwise said nothing. His feet were now tied and his hands free to allow him to sit and eat with the others.

“Mother is as rich as she wants to be and she would see an offer of blood money as an insult,” Cara said slowly. The Denger brothers grimaced. Both were fond of an easy life and were regretting ever agreeing to this trip.

“She would see you letting Don go as an admission of weakness. I thought we would be on the boat to Slarn before she realized I wasn’t coming back. Don being here makes that less likely. While I might take my time coming home after killing you, he always races for home the first chance he gets.”

“We can’t afford to travel with a prisoner,” Hadon pointed out, though everyone around the campfire already knew it. “He could slow us down and sabotage would be a constant threat.”

“Tie him up and leave him here,” Wilf Denger suggested, still looking for the easy way out of the problem.

“You can’t do that,” Cara protested, “It’s worse than murder.”

“He has to come with us willingly, or he must die,” Jalia stated without the slightest trace of emotion.

“Do your worst,” Don joked and then felt a chill run through him as he looked into Jalia’s deep blue eyes and saw no mercy in them.

“You want me dead,” Jalia asked Don, though it was not a question.

“Mother wants it and that is the same thing to me,” Don said slowly, wondering what Jalia was leading up to.

“You carry a sword. Are you any good with it?”

“I could kill you with it,” Don replied almost eagerly

“Would you be willing to accept a wager?” Jalia continued. “We fight and if you win I die and you go back to your mother avenged. If I win, you will accept your sister’s offer and go to Slarn without protest.”

“Won’t I be dead if you win?”

“Will you take the wager, on your honor and your mother’s name?” Jalia asked coldly.

“If I yield to you, then it shall be as you say,” Don stated carefully. He had no intention of losing, and if he did, he would die at this woman’s hands rather than yield. That would force Cara to fight Jalia and mother’s wishes would be carried out. Don grinned at his cleverness.

“Cut him free,” Jalia ordered and Wilf stepped forward with a knife. Jalia removed her throwing knives, putting them in front of Hala.

“Has Jalia gone crazy?” Cara asked. “Don is a skilled swordsman.”

“I was asking myself the same question,” Daniel replied. “All this diplomacy is not like Jalia at all. Can a bump on the head change someone?”

Don ran on the spot to get the stiffness out of his legs. Daniel handed him the sword that he had found on Don’s saddle.

A space was cleared on one side of the fire, with the members of the camp sitting on the other side. Surreptitious bets were placed, most of them on Don, who was bigger and stronger than Jalia and held a longer sword. Those bets were happily being taken by Grilt and Tel who knew of Jalia’s reputation.

The fighters took up stances a few yards away from each other. Don grinned as he saw how anxious Cara looked. He thought this fight was going to be simple. Daniel sat cross legged next to Hala. Daniel gave her a comforting smile before turning his attention back to the fight.

“Well, what have you got, Don?” Jalia asked and Don raised his sword upwards in a classical swordfighters salute. Jalia grinned and raised her own sword mockingly in the same gesture.

Don struck as she was doing it, slicing the air with his blade as it whizzed towards her.

When Don’s blade reached where Jalia was supposed to be, she wasn’t there. She moved back and made a complicated move with her blade which resulted in her pushing Don’s blade with the flat of her own, adding to its momentum.

Don was caught off balance and partially recovered by turning his motion into a twirl. As his back was turned, Jalia stabbed Don between the shoulder blades with the point of her sword, just sufficiently to draw blood.

“That’s once,” Jalia remarked cheerfully as Don brought his sword back into a defensive position.

“One what, bitch?” Don snarled at her as he launched into a flurry of testing attacks.

Jalia was too busy to answer as she retreated from Don’s blows, parrying every attack. Don was stronger than Jalia and his sword longer so she was forced to retreat.

Cara saw that Don was outclassed by Jalia. He tried to kill her with a sneaky attack, but Cara saw that Jalia had anticipated him. She was moving before Don struck, having probably seen the tensing of his muscles. Cara felt her heart miss a beat as she recognized that Don’s only hope for survival was Jalia’s mercy.

Don didn’t see things quite the same way. He knew he shouldn’t have committed to the early attack and he didn’t have the time to wonder why he wasn’t dead as a result. As he pressed Jalia back with attacks of increasing ferocity, he believed he was winning.

Jalia had been around moving in a large circle to stay within the light. She had her back to the large wood fire and saw the danger it represented. Don saw that possibility too and renewed his attacks with greater vigor, forcing Jalia back towards the flames.

As her back started to get uncomfortably hot, Jalia considered her options. She flicked a glance at the fire and noticed the end of a log sticking out. The log was about two inches in diameter and at least three feet long. All but the last foot of the log was buried deep in the fire, blazing away.

Jalia tossed her sword from her right hand to her left and continued parrying Don’s attacks without noticeable pause. Don found it difficult to engage as combating a left handed swordsman requires differently placed strokes. Changing mental gears in mid fight is difficult and he found himself taking a step back.

As soon as he moved, Jalia spun and went into a crouch. She reached for the log in the fire and dragged it free. Several of the traders on the other side of the fire scattered as burning logs spilled out at their feet.

A burning branch at night is a formidable weapon. It burned so fiercely that it left afterimages in Don’s vision as he batted it away with his sword. He had to look at it to protect himself, but Jalia didn’t. She kept her eyes firmly on Don’s feet, relying on the heat and brightness of the log to keep Don from being able to strike at her.

The log was starting to burn her hand, only its flaking bark giving her any protection from the heat of the wood at its core. Jalia had no choice but to get rid of it. She flung the log at where she thought Don’s face should be. Jalia tossed her sword back into her right hand and went on the attack.

Don used his left arm to deflect away the flaming log, cursing as he heard rather than felt the surface skin of his arm hiss. A few moments later the pain struck. It was only a superficial burn, but the body tends to resent its owner doing such things and gives out pain to let them know. Worse than that, he could only half-see Jalia for all the purple blotches in his vision.

The strength of Jalia’s attack astounded him. It was only the superior reach of his sword and stronger muscles that gave him any advantage. Even left handed she proved every bit as good as him. Now he felt the force of her attack and he was hard pressed to stay alive. Even if he could have seen properly, he would not have prevailed against her. As it was, his sword was knocked out of his hand and he stumbled over a root and fell to the ground.

“Twice,” Jalia stated as she pressed the tip of her sword against his Adam’s apple. “Yield or die.”

Cara had already made her decision and stepped forward drawing her sword. “Kill Don and you will have to kill me.”

Daniel moved forward even faster than Cara and stood between the two women his hands outstretched as if to push them away from each other.

“Kill me bitch!” Don goaded. He chuckled, despite the pain in his left arm. “I win either way.” A red battle mist was playing around Jalia’s outer vision and she tensed her muscles in preparation to strike.

“Hold!” Daniel commanded. His words floated in a dark void around Jalia and she tasted them in her mind. At the last moment she decided to stay her strike. However, her arm stayed poised as she waited to hear what Daniel had to say.

“You want your revenge, Don, but all you will get for your troubles is death for you and your family.”. A second later, his sword was ripped out of its scabbard coming to rest with its sharp point against Cara’s throat. Even though Cara had her own sword drawn and was ready, Daniel’s move was so fast and unexpected she made no countermove and was helpless and at Daniel’s mercy.

“No big battle, Don. No attack on Jalia, just the death of your sister a second after yours.”

“My Mother will kill you. You won’t live another week before you come to join us,” Don spat out defiantly. He could see that Jalia was breathing hard and there was wildness in her eyes.
Better to be dead than defeated
, he thought and one more push would do it.

“Hala, would you come here?” Daniel asked in surprisingly gentle voice. Cara didn’t dare move her head but her eyes flicked to the side to watch a hesitant child stand up and walk towards them.

“I just want you to tell these people some things about yourself, Hala,” Daniel continued. “Just speak loud and tell the truth.”

Hala nodded. She felt nervous and uncomfortable standing in front of everyone. The tension in the air had the hairs on her body raised and she knew death might follow her words, even if it was not death for her.

“Tell everybody your name,” Daniel suggested.

“Hala.”

“Your full name, Hala.”

“Hala Taldon.”

“Tell the people about the Taldon Clan. How it used to be until a week ago.”

“We lived in a big Fort on the top of a hill. The Taldon Clan has lived there forever. There were lots of us, more than three dozen adults and a few kids. My Great Uncle Mallon demanded tribute from the local villages so we never had to work. We had slaves to do things for us. What we were good at was fighting. My father, Trik, was second in command.” Hala suddenly found she was crying and as the tears rolled down her face. She pointed at Blaze. “That was my father’s horse until he died.”

The camp had been fairly quite since the moment that Jalia sword touched Don’s throat. Now, as Hala spoke and wept, the silence dropped to absolute.