The town of Argos was still much as Tara remembered it. She let an easy grin relax her face as she rode toward the inn, and slipped her hand up against Epona's abdomen. The slave shivered and tucked herself deeper into the crook of Tara's arm. The warrior looked down at her. "Scared?"
Epona bit her lip. "I've…never been away from home before, ma'am," she admitted softly.
Tara was amused yet again. Little mouse. She patted the girl's belly. "Just you keep me happy, and you won't have to worry about what anyone else might do," she said. "No one you'll see here is half as dangerous as me." Epona nodded silently. "We'll go get a room first, and then do some buying and trading." The warrior looked fondly in the direction of the market. She was looking forward to being properly outfitted again. And I think I'll make sure of you while I'm at it, my little mouse girl, she thought, glancing at the smithy that lay just down the street. Might as well, since we're here.
They had reached the inn. Tara swung out of the saddle and lifted Epona down. A boy approached them from the direction of the inn's stables; Tara held up a hand. "Don't bother putting up my horse," she said calmly. "I'm selling him." Her dark eyes flicked to her slave. "Just hold the reins and wait here," she instructed. "I'll get the room." Epona nodded, reaching obediently for Ruskin's bridle as the warrior turned away.
Once Tara had secured their room and left their supplies there, they headed for the blacksmith's. The warrior spent well over an hour looking at what he had to offer and haggling for what she wanted. She finally settled on a new set of bracers, leg armor, a crested helm, a bronze shield, and a short hauberk of leather and brass. Tara stacked her purchases neatly in a corner. "I'll come back for them in a couple of hours," she said as she counted the coins into the blacksmith's callused hand.
"As ye wish," the man said agreeably. "Pleasure doing business with you."
"I'll want something else, too." Tara paused and jerked her head in Epona's direction. The slender girl was peering curiously at a pile of gleaming new horseshoes. "You do slaves here, right?"
He frowned. "Aye," he said. "But a little creature like that? Why would ye want to…"
"I didn't ask for your opinion," the warrior said coldly. "I'll want that done when I get back, too. How much?"
The blacksmith nodded slightly. "Twenty." Tara paid him and jerked her head in silent thanks. Without another word, she turned and left the smithy, gesturing to Epona as she went. The slave followed meekly.
Horse trading was a pleasure that Tara hadn't had the opportunity to indulge in for a long time. For close to half an hour she simply wandered through the market, looking over the selection. Finally she gave a nod and moved back to where Epona was quietly waiting, her small hand closed tightly on Ruskin's reins. "This way," she said brusquely. The dark-haired girl followed her without comment to the corral she'd chosen.
The trader – a dark-haired man wearing a battered, wide-brimmed hat – leaned against the corral gate and eyed Tara as she approached. "Looking to get yourself a new mount, little lady?" he asked. "Or are you just wanting me to take that little carthorse off your hands?"
"A little of both, actually," Tara said calmly. Her gaze moved to the beast that had caught her eye – a massive, black warhorse. He's got to be eighteen hands high at the shoulder, if he's an inch. She kept her expression mild. "How much for that one?" she asked casually. A shrewd look came into his eyes.
They haggled for some time. At one point, the huge beast was caught and led to where Tara stood. The warrior felt his smooth hide, and the hard muscles beneath it; examined his hoofs, each one smooth and healthy; stroked his nose, and looked into the intelligent black eyes. She had trouble maintaining her appearance of nonchalance. In the end, though, it was worth the effort. She managed to buy the powerful gelding, along with all the needed harness, for a reasonable price.
When she finally turned back to her silent slave, she saw that Epona's eyes were full of awe. The slave stared up at the massive beast in appreciation. "He's beautiful, ma'am," she said softly. "I don't even think my father's horses were so beautiful."
"He's not bad," Tara agreed lightly, but couldn't help giving a bit of a grin. "Follow me. We'll get him set up back at the inn before we pick up my things at the blacksmith's." Epona nodded and fell into step behind, but not without another admiring look at her owner's new mount.
It was rather gratifying to see the awed looks on the faces of the stableboys at the inn when Tara gravely handed them the reins of her new horse. She smiled inwardly as she turned away. Used to be that most people would look at me that way right off, she mused. Well, once I've got my new armor on, maybe I'll start looking a bit more like I did before that ambush. Then I'll have the look and the reputation both. Her dark eyes flicked to the slave girl who was walking silently at her heels. And having a little mouse to follow me around won't hurt any, either. Tara grinned.
The smith looked up as the two women entered. Tara went to her pile of things and began to nonchalantly put the armor on. "Are you ready?" she asked him.
"Aye, soon as ye wish." The man gestured to his furnace; the door of it was slightly ajar, and Tara could see that the tips of several irons had been buried deep in amongst the glowing coals. She nodded calmly, fastening a buckle on her hauberk and taking up a piece of leg armor. "I have a few marks," the blacksmith said, "but I thought maybe you'd like this one best, warrior." He pulled one of the irons from the furnace and showed it to her. The tip of it glowed red with heat, but Tara could see that it was shaped like a small sword. She raised a brow and nodded her approval. "Thought as much. Would ye like it done now?"
"Yes, do it now," Tara said dismissively. "I've been on the road for a while, and I'm looking forward to some hot food and cold ale. No sense wasting time." She looked over at Epona, who had been listening to this exchange with obvious uncertainty. "Go to him," she ordered. "Don't make a scene."
The green eyes widened, and the slave began to tremble. "But…but ma'am, I…please, what have I done wrong?"
"Nothing. I just want you marked. Do as you're told." Tara paused in the act of fastening a strap at her ankle to fix the girl with a threatening glower. Epona paled. There was one more moment of hesitation before the slave slowly went to where the smith waited. "Mark her shoulder, please," the warrior said calmly, turning back to her task. "I don't want her face spoiled." She began to buckle the straps around her other leg. There was silence for a while, and then a couple of whimpers from Epona – and then, as Tara pulled on her bracers, the girl let out a piercing scream of pain. The warrior thrust on her helm, took up her new shield, and turned to look.
The blacksmith was just putting the iron into a nearby bucket of water. Steam billowed up in clouds. Epona was down on her knees at his feet, huddled into a ball. Her skinny shoulders were shaking with sobs. As Tara watched, he stooped down to pat Epona's back with his broad hand. "There now, lass. It's over," he said quietly. "You just take a minute, if you need one." She cringed away from his touch.
Tara approached and looked down at the weeping girl, her dark eyes thoughtful. The girl was still deathly pale and whimpering with pain. Tara eyed the angry red mark on the white shoulder; it had been cleanly done. She nodded. "Good." Reaching down, she grasped Epona's slender wrist and drew her to her feet. The slave wavered, and nearly fell; Tara held her steady. "Easy, now. You're all right."
"I'm g…gonna faint…" Epona's knees gave way. With a weary sigh, Tara slowly lowered her to the floor. Before she could ask, the blacksmith handed her a cup of water. The warrior jerked her head in thanks and stooped over the slave, rubbing at her cheeks until the green eyes opened again. "Ma'am…?" Epona muttered, with obvious confusion.
"Drink," Tara said tersely, and thrust the water into the girl's hands. "You passed out." Shivering, Epona sucked at the liquid. Some of the color returned to her white cheeks after a while. "Doing better?" The moss-green eyes looked up fearfully, and the dark head nodded. "Good. Up you get, then, and we'll go back to the inn. You'll feel better once we've had a good supper and a rest." She grasped Epona's upper arm and pulled her up. The smaller girl seemed a bit wobbly, and a little whimper still escaped her lips every now and then, but she trailed after her owner without a word of complaint.
Within half an hour, Tara was seated at a table at the inn, with a full plate of stew and a mug of cold ale before her. She ate with gusto. Ah, just as good as I remember it, she thought, with a burst of nostalgic affection. She hadn't had occasion to come by the town of Argos since well before the ambush, but she had pleasant memories of relaxing here with fellow mercenaries after long marches. She took a long pull at her mug, glancing to her left. Epona sat quietly in the corner, wrapped in Tara's gray cloak. She was picking quietly at her food; she still looked quite pale.
Tara waved to one of the tavern girls. "Another ale," she said shortly. One arrived a minute or so later, and the warrior plunked it before Epona, who looked up at her in faint puzzlement. "Arm still hurt?" The slave's lip quivered, and she nodded. "Drink that, then," Tara said calmly, turning back to her own supper. "Do you good. Eat, too. If it still bothers you after that, I've got some things upstairs in my pack that'll help."
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Epona slowly brought the mug to her lips and took a tentative taste. The wince and hesitation afterward confirmed Tara's suspicions. Little mouse-girl's never even tasted beer before. Gods, what did they do – wrap her up in lamb's wool and keep her in a closet? The warrior drained her own mug and sent it back for a refill. She noted that Epona kept sipping at her ale, and seemed to have decided that she liked it.
"Why, Tara! That is you, isn't it?" The voice rose above the buzz of the tavern crowd. The warrior turned in her seat to find a heavily-armored figure approaching her table. It was a short, compact woman with olive skin and dark brown hair. "Tara," the woman cried again, grinning. "Tara, the Terror of the West! How are you, you old warhorse? I've not seen you these three years!"
"Drea?" The red-haired woman rose from her seat to gravely clasp the forearm that was extended to her. "It's been a while. You haven't changed at all."
"Can't say the same for you, woman. Look at you!" Drea stepped back to look Tara over admiringly. "I swear you've actually got more muscle than when I last saw you. I didn't even think that was possible." She waved at a passing barmaid. "Hey, let's have a couple of pitchers, here." Without waiting for an invitation, she plunked herself down in an empty chair. "So what're you doing back in these parts?"
Tara sat back down. Her eyes were guarded. "Just trading for some supplies and things," she said calmly. "I'm resting up. Just came from a raid."
"I've been hearing some pretty crazy stories about you lately, Terror." The smaller soldier grinned as a mug of beer appeared before her. She picked it up, took a long drink from it, and waved it in Tara's direction. "Is it true you took out most of the town of Pylos by yourself last year? I heard some bard in Mykenea tell that story."
The red-headed warrior smiled thinly and tipped the rest of her ale down her throat. "More or less," she said. "I was with a raiding party, and they decided to retreat while I was trapped by myself inside the city. Kind of upset me. I guess I must have taken that out on the locals."
"Damn." Drea shook her head with an admiring smirk. "I swear, you've gotten even crazier than you used to be when we fought together. I wouldn't have thought you even could be." She thumped the table with her hand and drank off the rest of her first mug of ale in one gulp. "Great luck running into you! You looking for more work? There's a bunch of us looking to pull a job, and we need another fighter."
"Depends," Tara said coolly, pouring herself another glass of ale and taking a few more bites of her stew. "What's it pay?"
"Well, you won't lack for toast in the morning. It's…" The smaller warrior stopped abruptly, her eyes coming to rest on Epona's small frame. "Hey, who's your friend?"
"New slave." Tara chewed her mouthful of bread and stew absently. "Got her a couple days ago."
"Really?" Drea's brown eyes sparked with interest. "What's she look like?" And she reached across the table toward the gray hood that was pulled up around Epona's face.
Like a striking snake, Tara's hand flashed out, catching Drea's arm by the wrist. Her brows lowered over dark eyes that were suddenly cold. Startled, the smaller woman looked at her. "She's mine." Tara's voice was icy.
There was a tense pause. Drea stared at her uneasily, shifting in her seat, but didn't try to pull her arm away. "All right, Tara," she said quietly. "I'm not trying to take her. Just curious, that's all."
Slowly, Tara released her grip. She could see the wariness in Drea's face, and knew that she'd rather shocked her. Maybe I kind of shocked myself, too, Tara thought ruefully, turning her attention back to her half-finished supper. I guess that was a bit of an overreaction. Gods, I need rest more than I thought. "Fine," she said dismissively. "Quit hiding in my damn cloak, Epona."
The slave girl timidly pulled the gray hood back from her head and looked up at Drea. Tara's dark eyes flicked up to the smaller warrior's face. "So what's this job?" she asked coolly.
"Er…right." Drea glanced at Epona with obvious admiration, but quickly turned back to the conversation. Her voice lowered. "We've got word about a gold shipment being taken from Korinth to Megara. It'll be guarded, of course, but we figure we can take them out at that narrow pass just outside Korinth. It'll be a good amount of gold, Tara. And if you join in, there'll be twelve of us to split the proceeds – not bad pay for a day's work."
Tara's lips tightened. "When?"
"We figure to head out in four days." The smaller woman poured herself another mug of ale and grinned, resting one muscular arm on the tabletop. "Gives you time to rest up first, Terror." She paused. "So what d'you say? Are you in?"
The red-haired fighter tapped her fingers on the table. "Give me the night to think about it," she said calmly. "I'll give you my answer tomorrow, if you're around."
"I'm around." Drea nodded. "We're all staying in this inn, actually. Them's my boys over there." – Waving her arm in the direction of a large knot of disreputable-looking men. "They'll be glad enough to have you along, if you decide to come." Then she sat back in her seat with a casual air. "So tell me, Terror. What you been doing with yourself?"
They chatted for an hour or two. Tara had to admit that she rather enjoyed reminiscing about some of their old campaigns; she'd forgotten about a lot of it, what with the difficulties of the past couple of years. At last, Tara cast a glance at the corner. Epona was slumped down with her head resting against the back of her chair and her eyes closed. The warrior couldn't restrain a smirk. "Guess it's getting late," she said calmly. "We've put in a long couple days, and I think it's time for bed."
"All right, then," Drea said cheerfully. "Rest well. Me and the boys will be around whenever you decide you want to join up."
Tara's dark eyes followed her old acquaintance as she headed back across the tavern. Then, rising to her feet, she moved over to where Epona was. The slave murmured and shifted as the larger woman lifted her up; green eyes opened a crack. "Tired?" Tara asked, her lips twitching with amusement. Epona nodded silently. "All right. Let's go, then." And she carried the girl up the stairs that led to their room.
Epona yawned deeply as Tara laid her down on the bed. "Hurts...," she mumbled, only half awake.
"Arm's still a bit sore, huh?" The warrior calmly took off her new armor, laying it out carefully in a corner. Her dark eyes rested on the bed as she stripped off her outer clothes. "You're probably fine. I'll take another look at it in the morning."
The slave didn't shrink away, but her skin shivered as Tara began to undress her. Her eyes, a deep jade in the room's dim light, peered up at her fearfully. "Please, it…it'll hurt, ma'am…"
"No, it won't. I'll be careful of it." The warrior continued stripping her down, her strong hands brisk and efficient. "I've told you already – obey me, and you've got nothing to worry about. I'm not going to damage you for no good reason." She removed the last of the slave's clothing, tossing it aside with vague annoyance. Then, with a long, satisfied yawn, Tara stretched herself out on the bed and pulled Epona close. The girl's lips quivered against hers. "Mmm, 's'good," Tara mumbled, cupping the back of Epona's neck in her hand.
"Ma'am," Epona whispered. Tara heard her breath catch in her throat as the warrior's hand slid down over her bare hip. "I'm so tired. Please…"
"Just shut it," the larger woman muttered. "Not in the mood t'hear whining." She kissed the slave again, relishing the taste of the ale on her lips. Tara smirked against the girl's mouth. It was going to be a good night.