Shadow Dagger Ch. 16

Ashford waited nervously as the army marched closer. This was definitely not what he had planned with Jon earlier. He had hoped to sneak into Raves undetected to make contact with Chieftain Sazon in private.

Now a whole tribe of warriors marched towards them.

"How many?" Jon asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He could have been asking about the weather.

Ashford had to swallow before speaking. "The Tribe of the Desert Scorpion boasts the highest number of warriors of all seven tribes." He looked at Jon, hoping his face didn't look as queasy as he felt. "Twenty thousand warriors."

"Good," Jon muttered. "It should give us the upper hand in negotiations with the other tribes."

Ashford would have laughed but he feared if he opened his mouth he might lose his lunch instead. "N-negotiations? Are you serious?"

Jon looked at him calmly. "I want to avoid fighting, if I can. We will make better time that way."

Ashford shook his head and waved his hand at the oncoming army. "Look at them! There will be no negotiations. If the goddess really does know that we're coming, then we will have to fight our way through."

Jon grimaced. "I'm afraid you're right. Still, gathering the largest host around us will serve our cause better."

"If they don't kill us on sight," Ashford said grimly. "We're lucky they disdain archers. Otherwise, we would be mistaken for pincushions once we were in range."

Jon smiled. "Have faith, my friend. These warriors will give us a chance to speak before they decide to disembowel us and leave us for the vultures."

Ashford could have done without that mental image. "How do you know that?"

"The same reason they hate archers; they follow my code of honor," Jon replied. He shaded his eyes and stared at the army quickly making its way toward them. "Besides, they probably have orders not to kill us on sight."

"They follow your code of honor?" Ashford asked.

Jon nodded, though he never took his eyes off of the army. "I think their ancestors were the men I led into battle. I felt that a man should be able to defend himself if you wanted to kill him. That's why my army never used archers. My men followed my example. My teachings caught on and became quite popular."

Ashford had to disagree with him there. "I much prefer killing men who have no chance of killing me. Which leads me to ask, what about magic? Surely you used magic in your battles?"

"Never offensive magic," Jon replied. "I fought with a sword and nothing else."

"Why?"

Jon shook his head. "You're not a warrior, Ashford. You wouldn't understand. Now prepare yourself. The army approaches."

The Tribe of the Desert Scorpion arrived in a cloud of dust. Chieftain Sazon rode on his horse in front of his marching army. Fifty of his best men rode beside him. Everyone else approached on foot. Horses couldn't survive the harsh conditions of the desert.

Sazon reined in several yards away from Ashford and Jon. The rest of his cavalry circled them, silent and grim as death. The foot soldiers ringed them in.

There would be no escape.

Ashford wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he watched Sazon dismount from his horse. The Chieftain was a very tall man. His skin was coal black. His hair was just as dark and extremely long. It was tied off at his neck and was braided all the way down his back. He wore a white vest with no sleeves and brown trousers tucked into knee high brown boots. His massive arms were corded with muscle. A sword and dagger were sheathed on his hips.

The men on horseback wore similar clothing, except their vests were different colors to denote their rank in the tribe. The foot soldiers wore simple brown clothing.

Sazon stopped several feet away. His dark eyes sized up Jon and dismissed him just as fast. He turned to Ashford.

"Ashford Caulston." His voice was deep and powerful.

Ashford stifled his fear as best as he could and bowed his head in respect. "Chieftain Sazon, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same," he said somberly. But his eyes held no pity for him. The warriors of Raves never learned the concept.

"How did you know I was out here?"

Sazon glanced at Jon. "I was told to march my army out here by..."

"The goddess," Jon said, when Sazon fell silent.

Sazon's eyes whipped back toward Ashford. "You spoke of the goddess to this outsider?" He hands gripped the hilt of his sword and dagger. Ashford could hear the squeak of leather.

"Yes," he replied.

What else can I say? Damn, this is not looking good!

"We came to trust you, against our better judgment," Sazon said, his voice flat. "Our countries were making great progress."

"Were?" Ashford asked.

Sazon grimaced and spat to the side. "Apparently, this man next to you has angered the goddess. Why else would she send out my entire tribe to deal with him?"

"The goddess has ordered you to kill us?" Jon asked. Again, Ashford was amazed by how calm he sounded.

"She told me to hear your words and then decide if I should take your life. Speak, Astuarian, and let us be done with this madness."

Jon stepped closer to Sazon. Several of the men on horseback unsheathed their swords. Sazon raised his hand and the men reluctantly sheathed their weapons. Jon took no notice of this.

The movement of the riders had attracted Ashford's attention to one rider in particular. It was a woman.

Her fine, silky hair was pure white, tied off and braided down her back like Sazon's. She wore a loose blouse of white silk and tight leather trousers, also white. The blouse was unbuttoned enough to show a generous amount of bosom. Her dark eyes and skin seemed to sparkle in the harsh sunlight.

Her eyes, in particular, were staring directly at him with an intense heat. Ashford gulped and hastily turned his head away.

"I have an offer to make," Jon told the towering Sazon. "I wish to challenge you for leadership of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion."

Thousands of voices filled the air with laughter. Ashford could hear the foot soldiers repeating what Jon said to the men behind them. Laughter flowed along the deep ranks of the foot soldiers.

Sazon, however, had not laughed. He stared intently down at Jon. "By what right do you challenge me? You are not of our blood, Astuarian."

Jon bowed his head in acknowledgment. "The proud people of Raves honor the best warriors, regardless of their country of origin. It is by this right that I challenge you."

Again, laughter spread throughout the tribe. This time, Sazon's booming voice led them. "You, little Astuarian? I don't see a honorable warrior with great deeds to his name in front of me. I see a dead man."

Jon nodded and turned around. Several nearby warriors yelled at him and readied their weapons. But Jon merely walked back to their cart and pulled up the cover. He rummaged around for a few moments and withdrew an object.

He walked back and stood in front of Sazon. He held out the sword in his hand. "I have this deed to my name." He slowly unsheathed the sword and held the blade up to the fading sunlight.

The sun flashed off the runes that covered the blade.

"A magi blade," Jon said, his voice filling the sudden silence.

This time, Ashford heard not laughter by whispers sweep through the warriors around him. He saw awe in several faces.

Sazon grimaced and spat to the side. "Stolen. Or bought. I'm not so easily impressed, Astuarian."

Once again, Jon nodded his head. He walked back to the cart and pulled out another object. Ashford could hear several excited murmurs around him.

He glanced up and spotted the white-haired woman watching him again.

That fool woman! Why is she staring at me so intensely? Somebody's going to notice!

Ashford had to admit a moment later that nobody had seen the woman staring at him. Because Jon held out another sword, this time a double-edged bastard sword, and everyone saw at once the runes that covered it.

"No man is good enough to steal two Magi-blades and no man is wealthy enough to afford two," Jon said. "By these blades, I claim my right to challenge you to combat."

"Are you so eager to die?" Sazon asked, though his eyes never left the blades in Jon's hands.

"These blades will be yours, should I lose. What honor would a warrior of Raves earn by wielding two Magi-blades?"

"Much," Sazon admitted. The hunger in his voice was plain to any who heard him speak.

"As I understand it, Chieftain Peron wields the only Magi-blade that Raves possesses, correct?"

Sazon growled. "Don't speak to me of that honorless dog! He brought great shame onto our people with his defeat. And he was gutless enough to take the blade with him into exile."

Jon sheathed both swords and bowed low. "All the more reason for you to kill me and earn two Magi-blades. The honor of your people will be restored."

Sazon studied him for several moments. Finally, he spoke. "I accept your challenge, Astuarian. But the sun is setting. I will give you one last chance to watch it rise again. We will duel at first light."

"May our fight bring us both great honor," Jon replied solemnly. He gestured with the swords. "I will not use these in our fight, of course. It wouldn't be fair."

Sazon gave him a grudging nod of respect. "You are honorable, for an Astuarian. Kotori!" he barked suddenly.

A horseman in a gold-colored vest spurred his horse forward. "Yes, Chieftain?"

"Spread the word to the men; this Astuarian has challenged me for leadership of the tribe. If I am slain, the tribe is to follow this man and obey all of his commands."

Kotori did not look happy. "Chieftain, this man is--"

Sazon raised his hand and Kotori quieted instantly. "Are you questioning my authority? This man has established the right to challenge me. I am honor-bound to fulfill his request. This law has been the way of our people for centuries. Do you question it?"

The man bowed his head in shame. "No, Chieftain. I will have the word spread."

Sazon turned back to Jon. "Astuarian, what is your name?"

Jon hesitated for a brief second. "I am Jon d'Thelas san Ronar."

Ashford blinked.

Very clever, Jon. Even this remote place has probably heard of Jon Laurent. The name Jon d'Thelas san Ronar has faded from memory and yet you didn't lie. I think you understand these people better than I do.

Sazon pounded his chest with one hand and stood up straighter. "I am Sazon, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion. I have fought and killed many men to protect my position. I have never known defeat. Tomorrow, Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, you will understand why."

Sazon turned and walked away. The army began to break apart to set up camp for the night. Ashford looked over at Jon. Jon let out a breath and turned to Ashford. He smiled.

"I forgot what it was to feel like this," he said excitedly.

Ashford opened his mouth to say something but the words never made it to his mouth. The woman who had been staring at him was riding straight for him. He looked around nervously but couldn't see Sazon in the chaos of the camp.

Jon looked at the woman curiously as she rode by. Ashford swallowed nervously several times before the woman jumped from her horse and landed smoothly in front of Ashford.

"Ashford Caulston," she said, her tone neutral and controlled.

Ashford wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Istas, it's...it's lovely to see you again." He once again wiped away the sweat that dripped into his eyes. "By the God, I've forgotten how hot it gets here! I'm afraid in a few moments I will be nothing but a puddle." He snapped his mouth closed when he realized he was rambling.

Istas said nothing but continued to stare at him cooly. Thankfully, Jon spared him from having to babble about the weather again.

"Ashford, will you introduce me to your friend here?"

"Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, this is Istas, daughter of Chilali and wife to Sazon, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Snake."

Jon's eyes darted quickly to Ashford when he mentioned that she was the wife of Sazon. It was only a brief flicker and then Jon bowed low.

"It is a pleasure to meet you."

Istas never once glanced at Jon. Her eyes remained locked on Ashford. "You left without warning," she said quietly.

Ashford closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, she was still standing there.

Oh well, it was worth a shot. "My apologies, Istas. But I was called away for an urgent matter. It couldn't be avoided."

She said nothing for several long moments. Finally, she walked up to him until her nose was almost in his face. She was as tall as him.

"Apology accepted," she said. Her fist followed her words and drove deep into Ashford's sternum.

Ashford let out a whoosh of air and collapsed to the cracked and dry ground.

I should have seen that coming, he thought as he struggled to draw in a breath. Finally, reluctantly, air rushed down into his lungs.

He lay on the ground for several minutes to catch his breath. A shadow hovered over him. He cracked open one eye.

"What a fierce woman," Jon said, smiling broadly. Istas was gone.

"You have no idea," Ashford mumbled. He didn't have a good feeling about this night.

***

Sophina nursed her wine and stared sullenly into the fireplace. The fire popped and hissed in an entirely too cheerful way for Sophina's tastes. She grimaced and drained her glass.

"This doesn't affect our plans," Marcus said from the chair next to hers. It was the first words he had spoken since they came back to Jon's hideout.

"Is that so?" Sophina snapped. She wasn't in the mood to be consoled like a little child.

"Yes," Marcus replied, unfazed. "Actually, this is perfect. It reminds me that there is a grand scheme in play here. The God still watches over us."

"I don't want to listen to this," Sophina said. She reached over to grab the wine bottle from the table in between their chairs.

Marcus' hand engulfed hers and stopped her from pouring the wine. "You need to listen to this," he said sternly. "It will help, trust me."

Sophina sighed, suddenly too weary to argue. She nodded her head. Marcus let go of her hand and leaned back in his chair.

"The child will one day need to come into power in order to lead this country. But those plans were for down the road. Right now, we simply needed to get Evelyn away from Reynar. But this marriage might actually save countless lives."

Sophina sat up in her chair. "You actually agree to this marriage?"

The wine she had drank was fueling her fury; a fury that had been steadily building up since she had learned that Evelyn was marrying Reynar and that Raynolt was holding her family hostage.

Marcus didn't seem perturbed by her sudden flash of temper. "Like I said, it will save lives," he said calmly. "We won't have to wage any battles for the child to take over the throne. Reynar is claiming this child for reasons we don't know yet. The child will have the legitimate claim to the throne."

"I don't care!" Sophina roared. "That bastard is forcing her to marry him!"

"Is he?" Marcus said quietly. "Don't forget, Evelyn left of her own free will. She has no love for Jon. He killed her husband, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" Sophina choked. She angrily wiped away the tear that leaked down her cheek. She hated how wine made her emotional.

"I know this must be tough for you--"

"You don't know anything!"

She tried to find the words to express her grief and outrage but nothing came to her. Her beloved Evelyn was entering into another marriage so soon after Daminus' death. Sophina never even had a chance with her. And she felt so helpless that she couldn't help her family. She was needed here and it killed her.

"I doubt she loves him," Marcus said kindly. "I'm reasonably sure that Reynar has convinced her that her child's safety lies in the protection offered by royalty."

Sophina looked over at Marcus and willed herself to believe him. "You really think so?"

"Yes," Marcus replied, smiling. "The scar left by the loss of her soul-mate would require more time than this for her to fall in love."

Sophina fell quiet. She had forgotten what Jon said about soul-mates; about how the surviving partner never survives long.

"Is she...is she going to recover from that?"

Marcus frowned thoughtfully into the crackling fire. "You know, I have a good feeling about her. Undoubtedly, she knows how the child was conceived. Daminus used the soul-bond to transfer his soul over in order to quicken the seed. I think the imprint that action left will greatly ease the suffering his death has caused."

"The child saved her life," Sophina said. It made sense. A new life, a new reason to live.

Marcus nodded. "So you see, this marriage isn't as bad at it sounds. Evelyn will heal and we will get to her in time. She will see that Reynar has plans for the child that she won't like. After that...who knows where her heart will lead her."

He looked over at her and smiled. Sophina felt her fear and frustration melt away. She nodded her thanks and fell back in her chair. It felt like a weight had been lifted.

"You truly love her, don't you?" Marcus said.

"For many years," Sophina said happily. Suddenly, the roaring fireplace felt very comfortable.

"Have you always...been...well..." Marcus trailed off awkwardly.

Sophina laughed. "Have I always fancied women? It's ok, you can ask."

"Sorry," he said, his cheeks reddening in the glow of the fire.

Sophina smiled. "As long as I can remember, I've always felt more like a man than a woman. I never wanted to learn the womanly arts, like sewing or other such nonsense. All that ever interested me was fighting and making love to women."

"Have you never been attracted to a man?"

Sophina opened her mouth but slowly closed it. The memory of the goodbye kiss with Jon suddenly came floating up from the depths of her mind. She had felt something then, something she hadn't experienced before.

Marcus, ever the Oracle, seemed to sense what she was thinking. "Jon doesn't give his heart out easily."

"Why do you say that?" Sophina said, suddenly feeling the heat rise up in her own cheeks. It had to be the wine.

"I've seen the way he looks at you. Whether he knows it or not, I think you've claimed a special place in his heart. Now, whether that leads to love or not, I can't say. He has been hurt more than most men."

Marcus stared sadly at his hands.

Sophina leaned forward in her chair. She no longer felt embarrassed but rather very curious.

"I could sense that. But I know he would never tell me what it was." She left the question implied.

Marcus understood. "Sophina, I...I'm not one to speak of other people's secrets. Jon would have to tell you, if he wants to."

"Please? You know he would never tell me," Sophina begged, the wine making her more daring than she usually was.

Marcus grunted and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked at her worriedly. "The God knows Jon needs to talk to somebody about it. The only reason I would tell you is because I think that one day you may be able to truly help him and you need to understand him in order to do that. But if I tell you, you can't ever tell him, ok?"

"I promise," Sophina said quickly.

"Jon was married a long time ago, back before the War of the Gods. He met and fell in love with her while they were teenagers."

"What was her name?" Sophina asked.

"Her name was Sarah. Now, the God decreed that the Magi needed to procreate with non-Magi but Jon couldn't help himself; Sarah was the love of his life. So he went against his father's orders and married her anyways. The were very happy together. Sarah even became pregnant. Then came the War of the Gods."

"What happened?" Sophina asked eagerly when Marcus fell silent.

Marcus looked hesitant. "Sophina...I don't know if I should tell you this."