Zara the Wolf (5 page)

"We thought ... " Dejan's face paled as he looked
from the fence to Aldo to me and back again.

"This fence might stop men like yourself who are not
war-like, but it wouldn't stop a tribe of warriors or a large group of raiders.
You'll have to look at other options."

"Learning how to fight?" Aaron asked hesitantly.

"Yes and no. If men come to rob or kill, you will have
to fight. But you don't have the ability or killer instinct to meet them
one-on-one, so we will have to think of something to even the odds."

"What about the soldiers?" Dejan asked.

"They can help slow them down and give you time to get
ready, but you can't expect them to defend you when they are outnumbered five
to one or more. We can discuss alternatives over the winter. Nothing is likely
to happen before summer. I doubt you will have anything to worry about from the
tribes for a least a couple of years, if then." Just then I saw Aldo
approaching, waving a wooden sword.

"Bylun made this for you. He sure is good with his
hands. We have our own practice swords. You think a warrior is as good as a
well-trained soldier?" Aldo asked, smiling as he examined the sword.

I took the sword and banged it against the fence several
times, testing its strength. When I felt satisfied it wouldn't shatter in a
fight, I nodded. "Come with me." I led the three soldiers back to the
gate. "Consider this a real fight. Don't worry about hurting me, because I
won't be worried about hurting you. Prove to me you can defend this compound
and yourself. Prove to me you're better trained than a savage—like
me—because I don't think you are," I said, trying to get them to
take this seriously. "Dino, you stand at the gate like you're guarding it.
When I yell and start running, you can try to close it, and if you can't, then
try to stop me from entering." I grabbed Lech by the arm and waved Aldo to
follow. When I had gone about twenty steps, I stopped. "Lech, this is your
position. When you hear me yell, you can run and help Dino at the gate." I
waved to Aldo and walked another twenty steps and stopped. "Aldo, when you
hear me yell, come running."

Seeing that several people had come out to watch, I stopped.
"Please, keep everyone—especially the children—away from this
area." I turned and walked back through the gate and some forty paces into
the field, where I lay down. I lay there for a long time, waiting for the three
guards to relax. When I saw the guard at the gate turn to look back at
something, I lunged to my feet, yelling an Ojaza war cry as I raced for the
gate. Dino whirled around, froze for several seconds, and then leapt to slam the
gate shut.

I ran toward him as hard as I could.

When he saw he wasn't going to get the heavy wooden gate
closed in time, he jerked his sword from his scabbard. Just as he raised it, I reached
him. I swung my blade into his side as I ran past. Lech had covered half the
distance. He stopped and raised his sword. I slashed as I reached him. My speed
and the weight I threw behind the strike drove down his sword. I slammed my
shoulder into his, spun him around, and backhanded a slice cut across his chest.

I dashed toward Aldo. When we met, he lunged at me with a
downward slash. I sidestepped as I swung at his legs. He stumbled to his knee, and
I laid my sword across his neck.

There was a deadly silence. Those watching stood with mouths
open, or with hands covering their mouths, or just frozen in fear. Dino and
Lech came walking toward me, looking dazed.

"If you think I was fast, believe me when I tell you
the slowest warrior is faster than me. And I'm not better than the average
warrior. Anyone of them could do what I just did."

"No wonder Mitch and the other two didn't survive. How
do we defend against that?" Aldo asked, rubbing his thigh.

"I will teach you if you are interested. You are
already better equipped to fight them now, because you know what to expect. The
problem is that soldiers and warriors don't train or think alike. You have
matches against one opponent. You spend time testing your opponent and looking
for a weakness. A warrior is an excellent sword fighter who has trained for many
years, but he charges you in a win or lose clash. Even if you manage to stop
him, he knows another warrior is right behind him and that warrior will kill
you on the way by. He doesn't care if he doesn't kill you. He is content to
wound or cripple you for the next warrior.

"We need more soldiers!" Lech shouted to nodding
heads from the people standing around watching.

"And taller and stronger walls and—"

"The baron isn't going to give you more soldiers, and the
time you would take building stronger walls would be better spent learning to compensate
in other ways, while I’m here to help.

* * *

The winter was a busy time for them and me. I found that life
as a slave warrior had been difficult but simple, while life as a settler was comparatively
easy but impossibly complex. Money was a perfect example. The Ojaza had no
money. They bartered for everything, either trading one thing for another or
providing a service in exchange.

The settlers used coins: gold, silver, and copper. A gold
coin was worth ten silver ones and one hundred copper ones. That was easy. But
the gold and silver coins could be broken into pieces, and determining their
worth was subjective. Worse yet, nuggets of gold and silver could be used as
money. That required you to know gold and silver from look-alike metals and to
be able to accurately estimate the weight, which was another problem. The
weight of many things determined its price. Of course, that was also true with
the Ojaza; however, the number of items the settlers dealt in was beyond count.

And then there were numbers. The Ojaza used hands as their
basic number. The settlers had a unique number system that used two-hands as
their basic number.

"How do I remember all these numbers, six, seven,
eleven, twenty, thirty?" I whined several weeks into Ethel’s introduction
into numbers.

She smiled in sympathy. "Like many things, you just
have to memorize them and practice using them. Most of us are taught them when
we are young and our minds open to new things. Reading, writing, and numbers
will require memorization and more importantly, using what you have learned. I
will give you books to read, which will help with reading and writing, and we
need to let everyone know to test you on numbers."

True to her word, each member of the group, including their
children, took every opportunity to quiz me on numbers or asked me to read
something or other. The first moon … month, I went to bed each night with my
head spinning: five equals a hand, twenty-one equals four-hands and one;
thirteen equals two-hands and three … The second month, I realized I needed a
quiet mind like with the Ojaza, and I forgot about hands. That made the numbers
real. Ethel was right: the more often I read or performed sums, the easier it
got.

"How large is the Ojaza?" Dejan asked one night at
dinner.

"Two tribes," I said reflexively.

"How many in a tribe?" he asked. I was tempted to
answer in hands, but forced myself to think in tens.

"One … hundred."

"Then two tribes would be two times one hundred, or … "

"Two … hundred." I felt an honest sense of pride as
he and others clapped. I was making progress thanks to these people. I decided
to stay another four seasons … a year. Their world was very complex, and I
would need the time to adjust. If I left alone and before I had an adult’s
knowledge, I would be a rabbit in a forest of hunters—like sending an
untrained child out to qualify to be a warrior. I wished to be like the wolf I
had been named after—cunning. To succeed, I would need to be trained in
the ways of surviving in the civilized world.

* * *

Time seemed to fly. Although I had no specific duties, I was
always busy. I accompanied Dejan and his wife into town to bargain for
supplies. Elmo called me every time an animal appeared sick. He would talk me
through the possible causes and then begin to eliminate them one by one until
he arrived at the most likely. Part of my responsibility would be to help nurse
the sick horse or cow back to health. And he gave me responsibility for
grooming and inspecting the communities’ five horses. Bylun taught me how to
repair the horses' tack as well as clothes and weapons. Dana called me every
time someone was hurt, no matter how minor, emphasizing that small cuts can
kill if they are left untreated. I knew that from the Ojaza, as well as which
herbs to use, but she had remedies that could be purchased and carried with me.

From Baron Dietrich's guards, I learned about the military
the royalty employed. They explained their training, duties, fighting tactics,
salary, and life in general.

Three years had come and gone before I felt comfortable in
my new world. As part of the community, I shared in the profits and had money
of my own. In the beginning, I used small amounts to bargain for meals and
other small items just for the practice. In the third year, I used the money I
had been saving to purchase a small desert horse and tack. Although small, the
breed was known for its stamina. I named her Greystone.

"Are you getting ready to leave us?" Ethel asked
one evening after everyone had left and the children had gone to their room.

"Thanks to you and the others, I feel like an adult in
your world," I said.

"It’s your world too," Ethel said, giving my arm a
squeeze. "Everyone loves you … "

"I was born a farmer’s daughter and therefore part of
this world, but it’s not that simple. Where do I fit? Life in the tribes is
simple. You are a warrior or have special talent or you are nothing—you
rank just above the slaves and camp dogs. But here there are thousands of
people and many hundreds of positions. Where do I fit?"

"You fit here," Ethel said, squeezing harder.

"Do I? I have no function. I’m a crutch, little better
than an Ojaza spirit, and only because I can talk." I gave a small laugh. "You
and the others have been wonderful to me, and I’m grateful. But I need to see
where I fit—if I do. I’m comfortable here, but I don’t feel … Maybe the
Ojaza named me correctly—Zara the Wolf."

"Wolves are intelligent and social; they run in packs."

"Yes, and they roam large areas and are wary of humans."
I patted Ethel’s hand. "I haven’t decided what I’ll do next or on a time,
but you and I have always known I’d leave at some point. I may find this
community was the right place for me. I hope I could return, if I do, to visit
if nothing else."

"You will always be welcome. We will not ask you to
forfeit your shares if you leave, whether you return or not." A tear
trickled down her cheek, making my heart ache. I might have saved Ethel’s life,
but without her help I doubt I would have survived.

A week later, I decided to ride into town. We were well into
spring, which meant the traveling merchants would be visiting Oberen, and I
hoped to find work with one. I had no place I particularly wanted to go and decided
to let fate determine the destination. I didn't know if I was searching for a
place, a people, or a profession. All I could do was wander the country and
hope I’d know it or them when the time came.

I spent the first night off to the side of the road after
finding an area hidden from view by enough brush and ground debris that I would
likely hear any intruder long before he or she reached me. I had heard enough
stories from the folks at the compound to know the hazards of traveling,
especially for a woman alone. Ironically, I didn't feel like a woman.
More like a female wolf
, I mused.

I made Oberen early in the afternoon, and went straight to
the market area, which appeared busier than the other times I had visited. I
stopped at the entrance to view the notices: help wanted, sales, new venders,
and other general information. One caught my attention:

Experienced guards and a cook wanted
for a caravan headed to Calle. Good pay. See merchant Raigosa at the Wandering
Hole Inn.

Sounded interesting, so I decided to see Raigosa and headed
for the inn, which was only five minutes away. From my lessons with Aaron, I
knew Calle was on the other side of Aesona at the western ocean, about three
months’ travel. When I arrived, there was a line of men near the rear of the inn
near the stables, and I decided that was what I was looking for.

"Well sweet thing, you looking to be the cook for Raigosa?"
a tall middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face asked good-naturedly. The
couple of men in front of him seemed interested in the answer, judging by their
grins.

"Depends on the pay," I said, not wanting to discuss
my intentions with these men.

"I'll bet you could earn plenty on the side," the
larger of the two men, who were both grinning, said. He was big and muscular,
but didn't look as dangerous as the other man standing next to him. That one’s
grin somehow felt evil, and his eyes had a predatory look. I ignored the
remark, knowing from talks with Ethel that I couldn't avoid these encounters and
it was best not to comment, as it tended to encourage more. I took out a strip
of beef jerky and stood chewing as I surveyed the area. The line had nine men
and ended at an older man sitting at a small table. A tall lean man stood
behind him. He looked like an experienced fighter based on his sword, dagger, worn
scabbards, and clothing. His eyes scanned the waiting men and paused for a few
seconds when he came to me before going back to the man currently being
questioned. It took an hour for my turn at the table.

"Well ... girly. Cook?" the older man asked as I
stepped up to the table. From his finer clothing and softer, slightly
overweight body, I assumed him to be a merchant.

"Or guard," I said, catching the fighter's eyes as
he surveyed me.

"What do you think, Lutz?"

"You need two guards, and there are four, maybe five
that qualify. Be good to see them fight."

"You know they’re going to take pleasure in hurting
you," the merchant said with real concern.

"Nothing new," I said, stepping to the side away
from the others who were waiting.

He shrugged, looking at Lutz, whose lip twitched for a
second. He waved for me to follow him as he walked toward the waiting group.

"Listen up. We only need two guards and a cook, so
unless one of you five can cook, we need to eliminate three of you. Let's see
the following matches: Sammie, you and Carl. Ricco, you and Mark. And, Zara,
you and Bert. You'll start when I say start and stop when I say stop. Is that
clear?"

Nods greeted his announcement along with grins and smiles,
mostly toward me. Lutz retrieved two wooden swords and handed one each to Sammie
and Carl and motioned to the gate into the coral, which was empty.

Lutz followed them into the coral while the rest of us
positioned ourselves to watch. Carl looked nervous right from the start, and his
strikes were hesitant and weak. Sammie quickly became more aggressive and Carl
failed to block a cut to the arm and immediately afterward a thrust to the
chest.

"Stop," Lutz said, stopping to examine Carl’s arm
and chest. "Ricco. Mark. You're next."

It was obvious that he had paired the two he considered the
best with the two worst, because Mark didn't stand a chance and went down with
a blow to the head. Lutz frowned at Ricco but said nothing. It didn't surprise
me. Ricco was the one I thought not only dangerous but sadistic. I'd seen that
look many times with the Ojaza. Lutz waited until Mark's head was bandaged and
he was conscious. He then waved to Bert and me, handed us the swords, and stood
silent while waiting for us to face each other. Bert was smiling.

"Start," Lutz said, pulling his hand from between
us. Bert immediately charged with a hard blow aimed at my ribs. I met the blow
with my sword angled up, so his sword slid up to my guard, dissipating the
force of a direct hit which would have driven my sword into me. He smiled as I
stepped backward, and followed with an overhead strike to my head. Again, I met
the blow with my sword angled up. The force of the blow caused his sword to slide
down into my guard. I stepped back again, watching the excitement on his face
as he lunged forward with a thrust to my chest. I twisted ninety-degrees as his
sword thrust toward me, guiding it by my stomach with my sword. His momentum
carried him to within inches of me, and I slid my sword up along his chest and
reversed the blade, letting it lie at his neck. "Stop," Lutz shouted.
Bert's face had turned pale, and he had stopped smiling.

"You can go, Bert." Lutz waved him away and then
turned to me. "If you insist on wanting to be a guard, then I'll have to
match you with either Ricci or Sammie. If you win, we'll be without a cook.
I've talked to Merchant Raigosa, and if you'll agree to cook, he'll pay you the
same wages as the guards."

"How much?" I asked. According to Aaron, pay was
negotiable, and although this was the perfect opportunity and I was going
regardless, he didn't know that and I needed the practice.

He grinned. "You’re not quite the savage the rumors
make you out to be. One silver per day plus food and rooms when we stay overnight
in a town. And a ten-silver bonus if you stay until Calle." It sounded
reasonable, but ... I had to assume he hadn’t made his best offer.

"Two silvers a day and a gold if I stay until Calle.
I'll be doing two jobs, and my experience may prove useful." Hopefully, he
wouldn't just dismiss me as being unreasonable.

He laughed. "Did you really live among the ... tribes in
the Black Mountains?"

"The Ojaza," I said, pulling my collar away from
my neck to show the wolf's-head tattoo. He leaned closer and then nodded.

"I think I can talk Merchant Raigosa into one and a
half silver per day and a gold if you stay until Calle. Your knowledge may well
be worth it, since we'll be traveling along the Black Mountain range most of
the way to Calle."

I nodded, but it took all my considerable self-control not
to smile or laugh. I had successfully negotiated my first contract. Of course,
that could be a poor salary for a guard, I chided myself. Not that it mattered,
since I would have accepted the one silver offer to go, but according to the
soldiers, I thought it a good wage. Lutz walked over to Raigosa and talked for
several minutes before returning.

"You’re hired. I hope you can cook," he said with
a grin. "Calle is months away. I'll arrange for a room at the Inn. We
leave the day after tomorrow."

Over the next two days, I learned the merchant's caravan had
ten mules, two wagons, six guards, and was introduced to the Raigosa party: a
female companion, Shelia, his two sons, Cesar and Filipe, and two assistants,
Agron and Osher.

Two guards were on duty night and day. Lutz was the senior
guard. Three others—Dimas, Goyo, and Juan—had been with Raigosa
since they left Calle, and Ricci and Sammie were new. I stood guard twice with Sammie
and liked him, but I knew Ricci would be trouble. Savages and people of Aesona
weren't that much different under the skin.

* * *

I was glad for my time at the Manola community helping the
women prepare meals. As a result, I had a good idea on the amount of food it
took to feed thirteen people and could cook a variety of basic meals. The time
there had served me well. The first night after dinner, Raigosa approached.

"That was a good meal, Zara. I had my doubts about you,
but as usual, Lutz's instincts are good. Any thoughts about the tribes?"
he asked, sitting down next to me.

"I doubt they’ll be a problem. First, this is a long
way from where they live, so it's not a yearly occurrence. Second, they’re
after cattle, grain, and slaves—not the kind of merchandise you carry. Gold
and silver mean nothing to them. I'd think you have more to fear from
bandits."

 
"They don't
care about gold and silver?" He laughed.

"No. If they did attack, they would take the mules and
little else. Of course, that wouldn't matter since they would kill us all,"
I said.

Raigosa's face turned pale. "Why?"

"So you couldn't sound an alarm. Raiding parties are
comprised of warriors. Killing is what they are trained to do, and they are
very good at it."

"I have six ... seven guards."

"A raiding party would have at least fifteen warriors.
I haven't seen everyone fight, but I suspect most would do poorly against a
warrior one-on-one, and they would have you out numbered two-to-one and have
the element of surprise."

"What about you?"

"They would eventually overwhelm me with numbers."
I couldn't help the image of my father being hacked to death by two warriors.
"If you have advance notice, I advise leaving the mules and wagons and
running. Except for the mules, they’ll take little of value to you."

"So you would run?" He looked angry.

"No, we have an agreement. I will stay while you or
anyone in your party is alive."

* * *

I woke when I heard someone near where I lay. I wasn’t sure
what I heard: breathing, a twig, a dried leaf, or something on their
clothing—slaves learn to sleep lightly. I slid my dagger loose and
waited. Soon my blanket was lifted up and someone reeking of whiskey slid in
beside me, his hand groping for my breast. He was naked. He froze when I laid
my dagger with its cold blade against his stomach.

"The next time, it won't be a cold blade you feel.
It'll be hot blood and guts running down your legs," I said loudly enough
to be heard by anyone nearby. "No second chance," I said, sensing he
wasn't alone. Sure enough, I heard someone trying to muffle a laugh. As he
inched away from me, I could see it was Dimas, and off in the shadows his
friends Goyo and Juan. I pulled the blanket over me and closed my eyes, hoping I
had discouraged any more late-night visitors.

* * *

While I was preparing breakfast, Lutz appeared.

"Thank you for not killing Dimas. He's harmless, but he
did go too far last night. You handled it well, and your message was loud and
clear." He laughed. "Isn't that ... Indian sword a bit of a disadvantage?
It's several inches shorter than our standard sword."

"It's light and what I learned with. Besides, the Ojaza
don't fight the way you do. They don't use horses, so the sword needs to be
light. They fight as a team, not as individuals. One will wound you and the
next kill you, or one hold your attention while another kills you."

"But you don't have a partner." He pressed his
point.

"Don't confuse
they
work as a team
with they aren't good fighters. They are better trained than
most soldiers, and they aren't afraid of dying or being hurt."

"You aren't?"

"For better or worse, I'm an Ojaza warrior," I
said, knowing I would still be a slave if I had been afraid of dying.
But is that still true
? I wondered. I
suspected by now it was burned into my very being—free or dead.

* * *

The next several weeks settled into a comfortable routine. In
each new town, Merchant Raigosa set up a tent in the market area, where his sons
and assistants sold merchandise while he visited local artisans, buying
articles unique to the town and meeting with wealthy merchants and royalty to
sell items of interest. Since I didn't cook on those days, I rotated with the
guards, who pulled eight-hour shifts twenty-four hours a day.

On the road, I would get up early to start breakfast, which
was the last meal until we stopped at night. The others would wake an hour
later and have breakfast. While they packed the mules, I cleaned up and put
away the supplies and cooking utensils. We then traveled until dusk, unless we
made a town that day. At the camp, the mules would be unloaded while I prepared
dinner. After dinner, two guards would begin patrolling—mules, horses,
wagons, and merchandise—two shifts, four hours long, which meant the men
got a rest night every third day.