"Yeah! Thanks for catching that blow," Darian said.
Eldred smiled. "We non-Katabull have to stick together."
Tarius patted Darian on the back and went to supervise the tying of the dead Amalites to the anchor. She helped hoist them over the side.
They split the Marching Night into two crews and headed back for the Kartik with Tarius's ship sailing just behind the other. They had just finished a meal of hard tack and stale biscuits, and Darian was walking the deck just enjoying the cool sweet sea breeze. He saw Eldred sitting on a bench and joined him there.
"I wanted to thank you again for saving my life," Darian said. Being forced into using it, he found that he was picking up the Kartik much faster now. Although they still laughed at him over his pronunciations, they at least understood what he was saying most of the time.
"That's what we do in the Marching Night. We watch ourselves and each other. If one man falls it makes a hole in our defense, and we all lose a friend, a brother or sister. I saved you today, and maybe tomorrow you will save me, and if you weren't there then I would die as well," Eldred said.
Darian nodded silently.
Eldred had a bottle he was drinking from, and he handed it to Darian. Darian took a sip and coughed. Whatever it was, it was sweet and hot and strong.
Eldred smiled at the look on Darian's face.
From the cabins below loud groaning wafted up into the night. Darian made a curious face. "What's that?"
Eldred looked somewhat embarrassed. "We just had a battle. Tarius and Jena always make love after a battle. That would be Jena."
"Oh," Darian said and took another drink of the liquor.
A louder, more gravely sound came from below, and Eldred smiled, "And that would be Tarius."
"Well good. Good for them," Darian said, nodding his head as he took another drink quickly.
* * *
The Island of Kartik loomed before them, and all hands were on deck preparing to dock. The other ship had just put in ahead of them. Tarius was standing at the helm looking through her glass at the dock. Suddenly she started jumping around excitedly. She waved and screamed out, "Harris! Arvon!"
Darian could just make out two blond-headed figures in the crowd waving wildly at the approaching ship. He had been told that the actual docking could knock you off your feet if you weren't prepared, so Darian had been hanging on for longer than necessary when the boat struck dock. Tarius was the first one off. Not even waiting for the gangplank to be set, she bounded over the side and onto the dock. Then she ran over and embraced first Harris and then Arvon, and then she hugged Harris again, before hugging a very obviously pregnant woman. Darian guessed correctly that this was Harris's wife.
The minute the gangplank was set the rest of the crew boiled off the ship to greet waiting friends and loved ones.
Jena came up and took hold of his arm at the elbow. "Come on, Father."
He nodded and walked with her down the gangplank. It took his legs a second to get used to stationary footing again, but then he looked around him in awe and wonder. It was like being on a different world. The plants, the trees, the people, the structures were all so different from the Jethrik. It truly was a beautiful and enchanting land.
"Jena!" Arvon screamed and snatched Jena's arm away from him with the force of his embrace.
Jena held him tight, glad to see him again, too. In many ways her bond to Arvon was as strong as Tarius's to Harris. For much the same reason, Harris had saved Tarius, and Arvon had saved her.
"Where is Dustan?" Jena asked looking around.
"Hurt," Arvon said briefly. Then answering the look of worry on Jena's face added, "Not badly, but he doesn't feel much like walking."
"What happened?" Jena asked.
Arvon smiled a little. "He got drunk and fell off his horse. Twisted his ankle."
He looked at the man that stood beside Jena recognizing him as a fellow countryman. Then he looked again and his eyes widened. "Darian?"
Darian smiled. "Yes, you traitor, it's me."
Arvon hugged him, and Darian hugged him back, glad to see his old pupil. "But . . . how?" Arvon wanted to know.
"Now that is a long story," Darian said.
Four Katabull men went onto the ship, and minutes later came back carrying the throne. They set it behind Tarius and looked at her expectantly.
Tarius sighed, made a face and sat down. Then the four men picked it up and started carrying it back to the village.
Harris staggered through the crowd, dragging Elise behind him, obviously looking for someone.
"Over here!" Jena screamed waving her hand in the air. Harris and Elise walked over and they exchanged hugs.
"How was the fighting?" Elise asked.
"It was good," Jena said. "The Amalite flat cannot fight the Katabull. There is too much inborn fear."
"I can't wait to get a sword in my hand again," Elise said.
Darian looked at the girl in disbelief. It simply was not the sort of thing one expected a pregnant woman to say.
"You! What the hell are you doing here!" Harris screamed, drawing steel. He was glaring at Darian, and if Darian moved forward even an inch, Harris's blade would be in his stomach.
"Harris, calm down," Arvon said patting him on the shoulder. "It's Darian."
"I know who it is! He had the power to sway the king in his dealings with Tarius, and he as much as ordered her killed," Harris said looking at Jena accusingly.
The racket on the dock suddenly ceased, and every eye turned on Darian.
"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Harris. I was wrong. I know that now," Darian said.
Jena gently took Harris's sword hand and pushed it down. Then she looked into his eyes. "If Tarius can forgive him, and I can forgive him, surely you can as well."
Reluctantly, Harris sheathed his weapon, and he looked Darian straight in the eyes. "It is in Tarius's nature to forgive you because she believes she wronged you, and you, Jena, did not see how she suffered, how she clung to life. I did. I won't kill you, old man, but I won't forgive you, either. Nor will I trust you." Harris took Elise's arm and walked away, hurrying to catch up to Tarius.
"He's very loyal to her," Darian said thoughtfully.
"Of course he is," Arvon said. "Until Tarius, who loved Harris? Until Tarius, who even talked to him like a human?" He quickly looked at Jena. "Except for you of course Jena."
"I treated him well, gave him food to eat, a warm bed, clothed him . . . " Darian said.
"In return he gave you his youth, and did all the crappy chores that no one else would do. Do you know how many times he cleaned out the academy privies? Because he knows the exact number. Did you know that on several occasions Tarius helped him with this task just so that Harris could have more time to train with her? Without Tarius, Harris would still be mucking out shit at the Academy, and he knows it. This, as much as anything else, is why he reacted to you the way he did," Arvon said.
Jena took her father's arm and together they started to walk off the deck.
"But . . . according to our laws and traditions . . . I did well by the lad!" Darian said.
"There is a big difference between good and well," Jena said gently. "Tarius treats, and has always treated Harris as if he were no different from anyone else. No better and no worse. It is because of this that Harris has become the man that he is. Even when he knew what Tarius was he didn't hesitate to help her. He will never understand why any of us hesitated."
As they walked, the people reached out and touched Jena. It seemed everyone wanted to touch her. Darian thought this strange, but Jena seemed to take it in stride, so it must be some strange Katabull custom.
They caught up with Tarius at the great meeting hall. It was then that Darian noticed that not just Jena but Tarius and all of the Marching Night were being touched by the Katabull.
Jena released him and went to stand on Tarius's right hand side while Harris moved to stand on her left. Jena put a hand on Tarius's shoulder, and Tarius looked up at her and smiled. She covered Jena's hand with her own and seemed to be waiting for the crowd to quiet down on their own.
Arvon was standing next to him, so Darian took the opportunity to ask, "Arvon . . . why are the Katabull touching the Marching Night like that?"
"The Katabull believe that by touching someone who has recently had the blood of their enemies on their hands, they will be victorious when next they go into battle. The more people they believe you have killed, the more desirable it is to touch you. That's why Tarius, Radkin, Jena, Tweed and Rimmy get more attention than the others. People know of their legend, and know that they kill many Amalites in battle."
"Jena really is that good, isn't she?" Darian didn't know whether it was pride he felt or guilt. Perhaps if he had raised her right she would be home nursing babies now instead of paired with a woman, content to spend her days killing Amalites.
"Jena's very good, but to tell the truth at least half of the Marching Night are better. Jena is, however, the beautiful, exotic wife of their leader, and they just happen to like her," Arvon said with a smile.
"She's so different," Darian said. "So changed."
"It's true she's not the same person she was before Tarius made her a part of her life. No, she's not the same person she was, Darian. Not a naïve little girl. She has lived. Some of it has been very bad and some good. She's grown into a beautiful and powerful woman. Tarius, 'The Great Leader,' does very little without first talking it over with Jena. People trust Jean's council because she has become very wise in a very short period of time. Hardship has a way of doing that for a person. It also has a way of binding a relationship together."
"She seems so hard," Darian said. "So unforgiving. She had to beat me damn near senseless before she would even think to forgive me."
"She's not harder, Darian, just smarter. Less forgiving because she knows more about the world. Jena is a passionate woman. She loves passionately and hates in equal measure. Yes, Darian, Jena's different," Arvon smiled. "She's better."
Tarius didn't order the crowd to quiet down even when Jerrad came to fill her in on all that had happened.
"Yours was the only ship damaged in the storm," he reported.
"Well, that figures," Tarius said with a sigh.
With her spoken words the crowd quieted.
"As you can see by the number of vessels in the harbor, all of our ships were successful in bringing in at least one ship. The Orion, like your crew, has brought in two. All crews are currently at sea except yours. The crew of the Orion suffered the highest casualties, losing ten fighters in all." He went on with his report for several minutes, finishing with . . . "Queen Hestia has asked to be kept informed of your progress at all times, and I have sent heralds every three days at her request."
Tarius nodded. "You have done very well, Jerrad." She smiled at him. "OK, so if everything's fine, I'll just get back on my ship and . . ."
"Don't you dare," Jerrad said with a laugh. "There are several disputes which call for your attention."
Darian watched as the packs brought their disputes before Tarius. Nothing seemed very serious to Darian. Most were claims of petty thievery and disputes over who had the right to fish or hunt where.
"Why do they waste her time over such trivial matters? What of murder and rape, such crimes as those? Are they saving those for last when she will be too tired to decide?" Darian asked.
Arvon laughed. "Ah! Enter the world of the Katabull, my friend. We are a very ethical people, for whom such issues as petty thievery are anything but trivial. Where rights of hunting and fishing are all important. The Katabull are warriors who never fight amongst ourselves, and our original language didn't even have words for murder or rape. When the Katabull get mad enough to fight, we wrestle. The loser admits defeat, and we go on with life. In all the long history of the Katabull, no Katabull has ever murdered another, and no Katabull has ever raped another."
"But they are beasts! They turn into wild beasts!" Darian protested.
"Who hunt and fight our enemies but not each other. I think it's
because
of the Katabull that we do not commit violent crimes against each other—that link to the primitive, the knowledge that you are a power to be reckoned with. Perhaps it is because we have always had enemies from without that we have never fought among ourselves. I used to wonder why they called even a single Katabull, 'the Katabull,' and now I know. It is because every Katabull is connected. Every Katabull represents the whole people. It is for this reason that we never slay one another, because if you kill even one of us, it is as if you killed the whole nation."
"We . . ." Darian laughed. "You have lived among the natives too long, my boy. You are one of us, a Jethrik."
"Well actually, no I'm not. Tarius wasn't the only one who broke the academy rules," Arvon said with a broad smile. "I, too, am the Katabull."
Darian stood shaking his head in disbelief. "But how?" He looked around at the dark headed, dark skinned Kartik-looking Katabull all around him.
"The Katabull are everywhere, Darian. In the Kartik mix breeding has made them dark, and in the Jethrik mixed breeding has made them fair like me. Who knows? Perhaps there are as many Katabull in the Jethrik as there are here, and you don't know it because there we are treated like second class citizens, while here we are treated like gods," Arvon said. "Believe it or not, Darian, when you are here for awhile you will never want to go back to the Jethrik. Ever."
Suddenly the dispute behind them got heated.
"He stole my chickens," one man accused.
"Is that true?" Tarius asked.
"Yes . . . But he slept with my daughter," the other countered.
"Is that true?" Tarius asked the first man.
"Well, yes, but she is of age," he said.
"Where is the woman?"
"Here, Great Leader." The girl stepped forward.
"Did he make you a promise he didn't keep?" Tarius asked her.
"He made her no promises at all! That's my point," the father said.