"Do all your people talk so much? I paid the rest of your fare with my earnings from this shipment. I bought enough food for a few days, and I want to go with you. There is much I can learn from Tarius, and I think I love you."
"But . . . I want you to go, too, but I can't promise you anything. It's crazy . . ."
"Harris!" It was Tarius who spoke, and her voice was so weak he had to lean over precariously to hear her. "We aren't Jethrik women; we don't expect men to take care of us. She wants to be your partner, not your possession. Shut up and help her onto your horse. I'm not getting any better down here eating dust and horse shit."
Harris looked at Elise and smiled. "Are you sure?"
For answer she held up her hand. He took it, and she practically jumped on the horse behind him.
* * *
Arvon counted the money that lay on the inn table between them for the fourth time. "The only way we can manage our passage is if we sell the horses. That way we'll have that money to add to this, and we won't have to pay for the horses' passage, which is more than our own." He looked at Dustan when he said it. Arvon wasn't really attached to the horse he was riding. Since his own horse had been killed in the war by an arrow, he hadn't bothered to get attached to this one. Dustan, however, was very attached to his.
"Can we afford to keep Jackson?" Dustan asked. "If we stretch it, can we?"
"I'm sorry, Dustan. I've counted and recounted, and even if we get the lowest fares imaginable, we won't have enough. We have to sell both horses. I'm very sorry," Arvon said taking his hand.
Dustan nodded, resolved. There was a tear in his eye when he said, "Can we at least try to sell him to someone who will appreciate him?"
Arvon nodded.
"I'm so sorry, Dustan," Jena said putting a hand on his shoulder. "This is all my fault."
Dustan looked at her. "Jena, you lost your mate and your child, and you have lived. It's just a horse. I will try to find a good buyer for both horses."
Arvon nodded. He knew Dustan needed to do this on his own.
Dustan got up and started to question people around the inn. Soon he started talking to an older man at the end of the bar. They talked for a good long time, then they got up and started out of the inn. He nodded his head at Arvon and Jena as he walked outside with the man. Half an hour passed, and Arvon was about to go check on him when Dustan walked in carrying the saddles and tack. He set it by the door and headed towards them. He'd obviously been crying, but he forced a smile and sat down at the table. He dropped a bag of coins in front of Arvon.
"It took some talking, but he finally gave me what I asked for. Seventy-five silvers," Dustan said.
"Very good." Arvon leaned across the table and kissed Dustan on the cheek. Seventy-five silvers was a damn good price for two war-trained horses; there hadn't been any haggling. Dustan had spent the time in some alley crying about his horse so that he could present a brave face. Arvon knew this, and loved him all the more for it.
They got up and started to leave when two big, dirty, toothless men moved to block the exit. "Look at these three, Gordo," the bigger, dirtier one said. "They look like Jethriks, but they act like Kartiks. Men kissing men in public, a woman with a sword."
"We don't want any trouble," Arvon said.
"Well, that will cost them now, won't it, Gordo?"
"Yup, yup, shur will." The other one was obviously a
total
idiot.
Before Arvon had a chance to try to reason with them, Jena had pulled her sword.
"You want trouble?" Jena asked in a very quiet, very ugly tone. "We'll give you trouble, but you'll get none of our money."
Arvon slapped his palm to his forehead and drew his sword. Dustan drew his steel as well. The two men that barred their way drew there swords, and the other customers moved to a safe distance and turned to watch. It was pretty obvious that no one was going to try and stop them.
"Like I said," Arvon said coolly. "We don't want any trouble."
"Then hand over the money," the big greasy one demanded.
Arvon kept hoping that management would step in to deal with this injustice, but of course this was a seaport town, where Kartiks, barbarians, and every other people except Amalites were allowed to trade. The law meant nothing here.
"No more crap!" Jena screamed. She lunged forward, throwing a slicing cut that ripped through the man's throat. She swept sideways and blocked the blow the other man threw at her while Dustan ran him through from the side. Five other men ran up from behind them. Arvon, not yet engaged, turned quickly and kicked out at one, taking out his knee as he sliced through another's arm.
Jena only saw blood, and realized that blood was all she wanted to see. At that moment, each attacker was Tragon. She realized as she sliced through a man's stomach and watched as his entrails fell to the floor that she would never be done killing Tragon.
Arvon laid his blade into the head of one man, slicing all the way into the man's brain, and the two men left uninjured stood back and dropped their swords.
The bartender started to cheer.
"Blood thirsty bastard," Dustan said as he wiped his blade between his fingers to clear it.
"Which one?" Arvon asked, looking meaningfully at Jena.
Arvon moved forward and put a careful hand on Jena's shoulder. "Jena, put your blade away."
"No more crap, Arvon," she whispered in a hiss, surveying the men in front of her blade. "No more crap from anyone."
Arvon looked at the men and smiled. "You heard the woman. No more crap."
The men nodded.
"Jena, honey . . . Put your blade away," Arvon said again.
Jena shook her head, and she didn't take her eyes off the men in the bar.
Arvon grabbed her by her scabbard and started dragging her towards the door. Dustan picked up the saddles and the tack and went out first. Arvon continued dragging Jena out. At the door, she spun around to make sure no one was behind her.
"OK, killer can you put your sword up now?" Arvon asked.
Jena wiped her fingers down her blade and flipped her fingers in the air, slinging blood all over her and Arvon.
"Damn it, Jena," Arvon said, wiping the blood out of his eye. Then he took one of the saddles and one of the packs from Dustan. "What the hell were you thinking back there?"
Jena thought about that only a moment. "That I've had enough crap to last me a lifetime. That I don't want any more crap. They were giving us crap."
"You can't just kill everybody who gives you crap!" Dustan said in disbelief.
"Why not?" Jena asked.
"Because dead bodies tend to get people to asking questions," Arvon answered. "Come on, we'd better get to the ship, and hope that no local magistrate stops us before we can board."
They started walking fast. He cringed when he realized how blood-covered they were. They'd be damned lucky to get to the ship without getting stopped, and luckier still if any ship would take them the way they looked. Three desperate, blood-covered people carrying the bare necessities with packs, saddles, and no horses. They looked like what they were—fugitives on the run.
At the pier they went down to the water and washed the blood from themselves. They couldn't find a translator who would work for anything near what they could afford, and none of them knew the first word of Kartik. The only thing that was clear from talking to the different captains was that none of them wanted to take them as passengers for the amount of money they had.
It was the last ship at the pier. Old and run down, it looked like it was as likely to sink as it was to sail. However, the captain was Jethrik.
"Hail, brothers!" he called from the helm. They went up to meet him eagerly, thinking they had finally found someone who would sell them passage.
"Am I ever glad to see you!" Arvon said.
"How can I help you?" the captain asked, giving Jena the once over and obviously liking what he saw.
"We need to book passage to Kartik," Arvon said. "We have . . ."
"Don't even bother. I'm sorry brother, but we're over-loaded right now, and there is no amount of money that would be worth leaving anything behind."
"But you're our last hope. We have a hundred silvers . . ." Arvon started.
"And one crate will bring me two hundred. Sorry, mate."
The three turned to go. "Only way I'd give anyone passage right now is if they were the Katabull."
Arvon smiled and turned slowly around, changing as he did so. "I am the Katabull."
The captain clapped his hands together happily. "Crew!" he hollered down the deck. "We've got the Katabull! Unload a crate!"
The cheer that answered his shout was heartening.
* * *
It took them one and a half days to get to Montero. Harris was all the more glad to have Elise along, because Tarius got worse. Elise seemed to know how to help Tarius while he had no idea what to do.
When they got to Montero there were no open springs. Spas had been built on top of every one of them, and they charged huge fees to enter. More money than Harris had, and they didn't extend credit.
"Tarius . . . I'm going to have to sell the horses."
"No," Tarius said, coughing up blood.
"Don't be such a hard head . . . Horses will do us no good if you're dead."
"The springs are free," Tarius said.
"Not anymore," Elise said.
"Don't sell my horse," Tarius said.
"Tarius . . . Don't be ridiculous!" Harris screamed, totally frustrated and out of patience.
"Excuse me," a woman said approaching them. She was the owner of one of the spas that had turned them away earlier, so Harris was short with her.
"What do you want?" Harris asked. "To rob us? To trade our horses for a bath? What?"
The woman ignored him. "Did you say Tarius?"
"Yes."
"Is that then Tarius the Black? The Kartik Bastard? The scourge of the Amalites?" the woman asked as she walked closer to the litter.
Harris moved to block her way.
"Well, is it?" she asked, clearly impatient.
"What's it to you?" Harris asked.
"I owe Tarius the Black. See, once she didn't kill me," the woman said.
* * *
Tarius's head fell limply into the bubbling pool in front of her.
"Oh, no you don't, my friend." Jazel grabbed Tarius by the hair at the back of her head and dragged her face out of the water. The wound in Tarius side bubbled freely in the water. Jazel looked up at Harris who stood watching over the whole procedure with Elise by his side. "So, I'm guessing they found out what she was."
Harris nodded.
"And her woman?" Jazel asked.
"In Jethrik," Harris said simply.
"Guess she couldn't handle it, either."
"No," Harris said simply.
Helen ran in then carrying a large stack of towels. "How is she?" Helen asked, not even bothering to pretend like she wasn't checking out Tarius's nude body in the water.
"Damn near dead," Jazel asked. "Passed out and went limp as a rag as soon as I put her into the water."
"I could get in and hold her up. That always helps," Helen said.
"Well, go ahead," Jazel said with a shrug.
Helen quickly stripped and got into the water, splashing Harris and Elise. She went over to Tarius and held her up. Jazel let go of Tarius's head as Helen leaned Tarius back against her chest and held her head on her shoulder.
Jazel stood up rubbing her hands on a towel. "Damnedest thing, fate. About a year and a half ago this woman," she said, pointing at Tarius. " . . . decides against her better judgment to let me live. See, I put a silence spell on the Amalites so they could attack your troops. I didn't want to at all. I hate the Amalites as much as you do, but they had Helen. Anyway, it's a long story, the gist of which is that Tarius—in full animal form—tracks me down, kills all the Amalites, and is about to kill me when Helen begs for my life and Tarius lets me live. But only after making me promise to move to Kartik. So we come here, buy this spa, and now I hold Tarius's life in my hands."
"It's very neat," Helen said from her place in the hot spring.
"Helen has been fantasizing about Tarius ever since. Are you having fun, dear?" Jazel asked in a grating tone.
"Actually, yes I am. She seems to be coming around, but the wound is bad," Helen said.
"I mean, she's all right, I suppose," Jazel addressed Elise. "If you like the big, well-muscled, butch type. But you would think she crapped gold the way Helen goes on and on, and she only saw her that one time. Who wouldn't look good in Katabull form? I've tried every spell I can think of, and she still . . . just on and on and on. She makes up stories about her."
"That's not true, Jazel, " Helen said blushing.
"Oh, it is too . . . Well, there she is in all her splendor. Can't even hold her head up, and twenty pounds underweight. Tell me, do you think she looks any better than I do?" Jazel asked Elise.
"Well, no," Elise said quickly. Last thing she wanted to do was piss off a witch.
"Jazel," Helen giggled. "You're being ridiculous again. You know I love you."
"Yes, but you
lust
after her," Jazel said.
"Well, I can't help that, now can I?" Helen giggled out.
Tarius's eyes flew open, and she suddenly jerked in the water. "Jena!" she screamed.
Harris knelt by the side of the pool and caught Tarius's eyes. "Tarius . . . You're OK. You're in one of the Springs of Montero."
"The witch," Tarius said, remembering. She turned in the water, jerking away from Helen and looking for Jazel. When she found her, she moved over to the side of the pool where she was. "I had a dream . . . I dreamt that Jena was hurt. What does it mean?"
"What was the nature of the dream?" Jazel asked.
"We were together; we were making love . . ."
"Oh, this should be good," Helen said. Jazel glared at her.
"Everything was fine, but then she started screaming. She jumped out of bed. Her sword was in her hand, and there was blood on the blade. It wasn't her blood, but she was in pain. She cried out for me, but I couldn't reach her."