The Skirt does not make the Woman
By Barefoot
Chapter One
"What have you gotten us into now, Mara?" asked a blond teenager girl, in her lilting accent.
"Nothing Leslie, nothing we can't handle…" replied the tall redhead, who looked around 25 years old.
The two of them were standing in a dead end alley in Carthak, neither of them having any weapons except for Mara's dirk. That shouldn't have been a problem, except for the 20 rather strong men now gathering at the other end of the alley. As the men approached, the obvious leader taunted,
"Well, I see our little girls are tired of playing warrior."
"Over our dead bodies," retorted Mara as Leslie let out a shrill cry followed by two short whistles, "now, I suggest you scram"
The man's face became livid, yet he turned and ran off with the rest of his men.
"By the Goddess, don't you love it when your reputation proceeds you," laughed Leslie.
"Hey, that isn't always a good thing," said a voice from above. Leslie, looked up to the top of the surrounding buildings where she saw the speaker, another blond teenager, slightly older than Leslie, with vivid green eyes.
"Tyma!" exclaimed Leslie.
Mara looked up to Tyma and smirked, "Well, it's not our fault that no respectable citizen in Carthak will be seen with you"
"Correction, Mara," said Tyma, "no respectable woman in Carthak will be seen with me. Men on the other hand…"
Mara was about to respond to that when another young woman, who looked around 21, with raven black hair, raced around the corner and into the alley.
"Am I too late! I heard your signal, where's the enemy?" the woman asked frantically.
"And Julander is punctual as usual…" joked Tyma.
"Mithros, will you shut up for once Tyma. I was on the other side of the city when I heard your call. The usual thieves were acting up again."
Mara just laughed and told the other three women that they were done for the day and should probably return to the inn. For you see, these 4 women were dear friends, and had been together for a long time. They lived together at the Footstool Inn in the Merchant section of Carthak. At night they worked for room and food, during the day they worked on the streets as part of a makeshift police force. Ever since the War of the Immortals, crime had run rampant in the streets. Mara, Tyma, Julander, and Leslie had all lost their parents, whether in wars or accidents or to plagues. All were from Carthak, and all were skilled warriors, taught by their parents and friends.
That night, long after the last draught had been served by Mara, last soup spilled by Julander, last table washed by Leslie, and last wink given by Tyma, the four young women sat around a table and sighed.
"Goddess, am I tired," whimpered Leslie, being only 15 and not yet as strong as the other three.
"We all are Leslie, we all are," comforted the older Mara, the leader of their gang. "Before we go to bed, I have a proposal for everyone here." The other three leaned in; Mara could sometimes have very interesting ideas.
"We've been in Carthak longer than we've ever wanted to be," said Mara, the others nodded in agreement, "we get hounded often by fellow citizens who don't believe women should be able to fight nearly as well as we do and of course by the scum of this town, those we are trying to get rid of. Well, I'm just about sick of it! I propose that we leave Carthak and go somewhere new that doesn't know about us. We certainly have enough money to do so." Silence filled the room for a long time, Mara finally continued, "I have an acquaintance who can get us on a boat out of here. Why don't we all sleep on it."
At that, the women climbed the spiral wooden stairs up to the attic, and fell into a deep sleep. Mara dreamed she was being chased by a magnificent lioness, who, after hours of pursuing, finally caught Mara and trapped her beneath her claws. The lioness blew her warm breath onto Mara's face, and spoke to her as well.
"The sailor with no fear of magick, will know who I am, find me."
Mara then dreamed of oceans and open skies.
The sun cast its blood over Carthak, waking many, including those in the attic of the Footstool Inn.
"By the goddess, why does the sun know exactly where I sleep every morning and proceed to wake me up. Aaaggghhh, I want to sleep…"
"Just another five minutes…"
"Do you have a brother…"
"All of you, WAKE UP!" shouted Mara, stirring her friends from their dreams, "well, do we go or do we stay?"
"Can I get back to you on that?" requested Tyma.
"No, do we go or do we stay?"
The four women looked at each other and around the attic they had housed them for many years. Memories filled them, reminding them that Carthak was home, but others reminding them of painful pasts.
"I think I speak for us when I say, let us go somewhere new," whispered Julander.
"Good, our boat leaves tonight, we will meet back here at 4 o'clock then, and go to the docks together. Everyone say their good-byes to Carthak and friends before then," commanded Mara.
The quartet pranced downstairs and outdoors, each going their separate directions. Mara, however, stopped once she was out of sight and returned to the inn, for she had no friends in Carthak other than Tyma, Julander, and Leslie.
That night, the friends gathered their few belongings, said farewell to the kind innkeeper and his wife, and walked down to the docks with Julander whistling the entire way.
More coming…
Disclaimer: Heck, I wished I owned Tammy's stories, but I don't. So please don't sue me.