Chapter 4: Fourteen Years Ago
Naishe was frightened. In all her fifteen years of life she had never been so frightened. The girl's heart pounded in her chest, her fingers felt cold, and it was all she could do to keep her breathing even.
The docks of the port city where her family lived had never been a safe place. Sailors, slavers, and mercenaries carried about their business, with no mind of the young woman in their midst.
Naishe took a deep breath trying to steady her nerves. The girl caught a glimpse of herself in a full rain barrel. The sight shocked her. Gone was the coltish girl her father had trained, in her place stood a young woman. She had had what her Mother called her growth spurt. Her chest was fuller as was her hips. The roundness of her child's features was giving way to adulthood.
She admired herself, for the purpose of her mission she had dressed more daring then she ever had in the past. Her white smock was cut low in front showing off her features. A pair of thigh high boots covered her long legs. A blue bandana covered her raven head.
Her Father's daggers were sheathed on her belt; they had seen no use since he had died…
…That fact was about to be remedied.
The girl sighed nervously.
Father would have had a fit if he could see her now, walking alone among the toughs and sailors that wandered this place.
The girl's amber colored eyes narrowed. The pain and loss hitting her like a blow in the stomach.
He is dead, my Papa is dead!
Father was now gone, and all she had left was to see that the men who took him paid for it.
Her justice.
Her vengeance!
It had happened two months ago, Father had been competing in one of the tourneys where he had made his name. Most fighters there respected him, for almost twenty years he had stood at the top of his game. He never issued challenges where he would not be challenged himself, and did not accept challenges from fools who he was sure to dominate.
The men respected him for that; the girl saw that in the people who greeted her father in the streets. He was respected, and perhaps even…a little feared.
She was proud to call herself his daughter, though he could be a bit over protective.
Naishe had still never been allowed to attend those fights. Father was always trying to protect her. She knew that he wanted what was best for her, but she wanted a chance to prove herself to him, to make him proud.
She could only do that in the dueling ring.
She did not know everything that had happened that night. The night he was taken from her, she only had heard the stories from those who were there. Father had just defeated some sailor fresh off a ship from Llomerryn. The man had dwarfed him, but he had heard of the man's skills and accepted the challenge.
Her Father always welcomed an eager challenger, a man who would push him to his limits.
The man's shipmates had bet heavily on their fellow, their captain too. All expected to see the young fighter knock off the seasoned veteran.
The man was good, her Papa had been better. It had been a hard battle, but in the end, her father had triumphed.
He was the sharpest blade in Rivain after all.
The man's shipmates had not been pleased, their captain chief among them. He quarreled with her Father, but that had ended when the bouncers showed up and removed them.
The only fighting allowed in the arena was in the arena.
Father had stayed late that night, drinking with his old friends and opponents. They respected him for what he was, and how he had conducted himself in the fights. He was great, but not arrogant about it.
Father had never had to brag, he let his blades do the talking.
People were always coming up to him, offering him a pat on the shoulder or to offer and buy him a drink.
That is why he never saw what was coming.
A young fighter, with more balls than brains had taken money from the Antivan and his crew. He walked up to Father and placed a hand in his shoulder…
Then he drove a knife into her Papa's throat.
The fighters tried to save him; they even called for the apostate who lived above the arena hoping that his healing magic would work.
It was no use; the fighter had pulled out his dagger after the first strike.
Father died in seconds.
The other fighters seized he lad, they got him to confess before slitting his throat. Her Father's friends had considered hunting down the Antivans as well, but the owner of the Arena forbade it.
The Antivan Captain was a member of the Felicisma Armada, and a known associate of the Antivan Crows.
They could not touch him or his men, not without risking serious reprisals from either group.
They had to settle for the life of the foolish young fighter.
That night…the arena fighters had carried her Papa home for the last time. Mother had been devastated, and Naishe had just stood there, staring in shock.
Not her father, not her Papa!
She had lost something that night, something precious.
She mourned those losses, even as she felt a cold simmering anger take root in her breast.
This was not over!
She would see justice done!
IOI
It had taken her months to piece together what had happened, and to learn about who had paid for her Father's death. She needed to wait patiently, eventually the bastard would return.
Naishe would be waiting, ready for him.
Mother fell apart after Father had died. They did not have to worry about money, at least not right away. Father had been a wise businessman; they had enough money to survive for quite a while.
The woman who had raised Naishe was slowly fading away. She brought home men, and didn't even resist when they struck her over some imagined slight. Naishe did try and protect her; she even broke one of their arms once, trying to defend her Mum.
The older woman grew angry, telling her young daughter to mind her place.
The girl did not understand.
Why was Mother angry at her?
She eventually stopped trying, she stayed focused on her goal of finding the man who had killed father and sent her Mother into such a horrible melancholy.
After two months of listening and waiting, her patience finally paid off.
IOI
Naishe entered the tavern; it was loud, smelly, and dirty. Humans, elves, and dwarves went about their business while elven whores applied their trade at the bar.
The air of danger, the excitement of the place made her blood race; it was a strange sensation after living such a sheltered life.
A drunken sailor grabbed her arm, he grinned lecherously at her.
The murderous glare she shot him made him back off quick, that and her hands reaching for her blades.
Tonight she was not Naishe, tonight she was vengeance…she was death.
And it had come to claim a single victim, but if the man interfered it would claim two.
She spotted her target, the fat Antivan pig in the Captain's coat at the back of the bar, flanked by two of his bully boys.
Naishe swallowed hard.
This would not be as easy as she thought.
She knew enough about men from her mother's warnings to come up with the plan. She would tempt the Captain into a room, with the promise of…well…of feminine company.
She set her mouth into a grim line.
He would never leave that room alive.
He would live just long enough to know that he had died for the cowardly murder of her father.
That…would be justice.
Naishe stalked her prey.
The girl who would one day be known as Isabela was still innocent of men at this point. She did not carry herself with the confidence and arrogance that would draw men like a moth to a flame. She was a walking sack of nerves.
The Antivan glanced up at her, appraising the dark haired beauty before him.
He chuckled.
"And whose little girl are you?" he asked.
The comment nearly set her off, but she held her temper.
Father had taught her not to be put off by a few arrogant words.
She had a target, she would seize it.
She smiled nervously.
"I'm looking to join a crew," she said her voice cracking, not sounding at all confident. "I heard yours is the most profitable one in port."
The fat captain smirked.
"That it is," the man leaned back in his chair, the wood groaned under his weight. He gave Naishe an arrogant smile with yellowed teeth.
She tried to appear dangerous and cold.
It was not working that well.
"The armada pays its people well," he said, "You do what is expected of you and you can have what you want. Food, drink, men," the man's smirk widened, "Women."
Naishe blushed, the thought of her with another woman.
It sounded so…dirty.
Focus, her conscience chided, you have a target, take it down!
"I can fight," she said gesturing to her daggers.
"Can you now?" the man purred, "Do you know how to sail?"
"I'm a fast learner," she replied.
One of sailors glared at her.
"Want me to put this little whore off Cap'n?"
Naishe tensed, her hands rested on her blades.
"No Angelo," the captain said dismissively. He gave her an appraising look.
"You're a little young for this kind of work."
"I'll learn," she replied.
He nodded thoughtfully.
"Twirl for me," he said gesturing with his finger.
"What?"
"Twirl for me," he repeated, "now."
Fear made her heart leap, you never turn your back on a target, but if she was to lure him where he needed to be.
She would have to do it…it did not matter.
She complied; she could almost feel the man's lecherous eyes on her.
It made her seethe with a silent rage.
"Nice," he purred, "Tell me girl, what do they call you?"
"Naishe," she replied.
The captain snorted.
"Maker! The names the Rivaini give their children," the man shook his head, "You will need a new name if you are to serve in the Armada my little beauty. Something that…"
The man paused, he scratched his chin thoughtfully. He gave her a knowing smirk.
"Isabela," he whispered.
The girl gave him a curious look.
"Isabela?"
"Isabela," he repeated, "it means little beauty my little tart, and it is a more fitting name for you I think, before some young buck breaks you in anyway."
Naishe shivered. Isabela? The name meant nothing to her, and the fact that the man who had suggested it had her father murdered just made her hate it even more.
The captain gave her a hungry look.
"Tell me Isabela," he whispered, "What are you prepared to do to earn your place in my crew?"
The girl touched his hand shyly, she tried to imitate the way that mother had touched father's arm, to show intimacy, to put the Antivan pig at ease, but truth be told…he made her sick.
"I'll….I'll do what I must," the girl responded.
That seemed to be the right answer.
"Come with me girl," he said rising from his chair, "We shall go into the alley outside. You shall…show me your… skills," the man grinned ferally. He licked his lips expectantly, savoring the meal to come.
It made Naishe shiver.
"I'll be back in a minute boys," he replied, we will see if this little one has what it takes.
Naishe let him take her by the wrist, her heart raced. She tried to ignore the wolf whistles and cat calls behind her.
She had what she wanted, that was all that mattered…
Right?
The captain led her into the mouth of an alley outside the Tavern. He practically threw her into the shadows.
She fled deeper, her smile was now genuine, she grinned with wolfish anticipation…
…Just a little farther…just a few more steps.
The captain did not realize the danger he was in, all his attention was on her body, not her blades.
It would be his undoing.
"Come here little one," he sneered, "Let me test your... skills."
She stopped.
"Come here," he ordered.
Naishe smiled.
Come and get me.
The fat man lunged for her, he pulled his own dagger.
"Come here you whore!"
Naishe snapped.
She lunged. She was shrieking like a fade spirit, Papa's blade her in hand.
She deflected the captain's clumsy charge and sent him spinning into the stone wall.
The big man was dazed, but kept his blade up, ready to fight defensively.
Naishe's training took over.
She showed him no mercy.
NO MERCY!
Disarming him was easy; her blade rose and fell, rose and fell.
Hot blood splashed her face.
She continued to shriek.
MURDERER!
BASTARD!
FOR MY FATHER!
FOR PAPA!
The world faded into a red haze, everything turned red. The Captain gurgled, the blade slicing his throat, and once again plunging into his chest.
Naishe did not stop, not until he lay on the cobbles, his eyes empty and staring off into the void.
The world came back to her. She was gasping for breath, her gloves soaked with the Antivan's blood.
Naishe fought the urge to retch. The body lay against the wall, the steam rising from the wounds.
Maker…I'm going to be sick!
"HOLD!"
Two guardsmen appeared. They must have heard her screams.
They took a look at the body, and then their eyes fell on her.
They narrowed in righteous anger.
No, he was the murderer! I was only avenging my Father!
"Come along whore," one of the guards ordered grabbing her wrist, "You have an appointment with the magistrate, then the rope."
Naishe's eyes widened, no... they…they could not mean?
The rope?
NO!
Her training took over.
She whirled around, plunging her father's dagger into the man's armpit, the man gasped as the long blade hit his vitals. He died gasping in pain.
His fellow drew his sword. He swung on Naishe, who rolled under his blade. She spun as her father taught her, slashing the weak spot between the man's knees and thighs.
He fell to his knees.
She spun again.
Her blade sliced first his belly, then his neck.
The guard fell joining his fellow and the Antivan in death.
The two murders had taken less than a minute.
Naishe stared in horror at the carnage she had wrought.
The young girl ran.
She tried not to think about what had just happened.
The captain had deserved his fate, but those two men…
She tried to get their faces out of her mind.
It had not been her fault!
They should have just let her go!
The girl did not stop running until she was out of the city. She had stashed a change of clothes down by the coast, the place that she had trained with her father.
She jumped into the waves; they rolled over her washing the blood from her skin and clothes. She only emerged from the sea when the water had battered her clean. She ripped of the gloves and shift, grabbing a clean one from her bag. She took out her father's daggers and polished them to a shine.
No one would be able to guess the bloody business they had done tonight.
She wrapped the clothes in a leather parcel, she would take it further down the coast and wait for the tide to go out, it would take all the evidence that remained with it.
She took a shuddering breath.
Rivain was a dangerous place; with luck no one would find the bodies until morning. By then she would be back home and none would be the wiser.
Would anyone suspect her? Unlikely, it was unusual in Rivain to find a woman skilled enough to kill three men with a pair of daggers. They would likely suspect bandits. The captain resisted, the girl had run, the guards showed up, but were overpowered.
Naishe shivered, that is what she would say if anyone discovered her.
She looked down at her hands, they were still shaking.
Murder.
Murder.
Murder.
I'm a murdered.
She rubbed at her hands; she…was their still blood there?
She ran back to the water and scrubbed them, scrubbed them to they were red from the salt, and her skin burned.
Naishe left the coast line; there was a farm not far from here. Friends of her Father owned it.
They had typically given the two of them a place to rest when they were out late.
She hoped they would still be willing to put her up for the night.
The young woman sighed, she would never think of herself as a girl again.
A girl could not have…
No, don't think of it!
Naishe swallowed hard.
Isabela.
The name swam up into her thoughts.
It meant little beauty, an appropriate name for a female pirate.
It was an appropriate name for a murderess.
Naishe whimpered.
She closed her eyes and whispered her father's name one last time.
Saying a final goodbye.
His little girl joining him in death.
She took a deep breath and blew it out.
The last of Naishe went with it.
When the young woman opened her eyes she was not Naishe anymore.
She was Isabela.
Maker help her.