CHAPTER 8 I Find Myself in a Battle
Cree-ak. My head bouncing on the bed wakes me and I look up blearily. Izark is above me, crouched on the bed like a panther about to pounce on his prey. My heart lurches...but his eyes are not looking at me. They are looking at the door, and his sword is in hand, though still sheathed. I'm immediately into "fight or flight" mode, my heart racing, every muscle tensed to react. CRASH! "Yaaahhh!" Izark is up in the air and I've seemingly teleported across the floor to the opposite location, ending up in the corner my bed makes with the wall, under the window between the beds.
I spin around, having heard two meaty thuds. My emotions are split from my visual cortex, which is looking to keep me alive. Emotions are deadly in this kind of situation, but I do still feel them, buried under the strong I'm prey and want very desperately to stay alive reaction I'm having. I have faint relief that Izark is still alive. Even his falling to the ground only evokes a distant worry and fear. He's still up and supporting himself. I've seen him survive worse.
There is what is probably typical male posturing between the men who have invaded our room so fiercely and Izark, then roaring from both sides, and Izark is a blade of death as he works his way through the room and another six men. He ends up on the opposite side of the room, falling back against the wall opposite me. My distant emotions are worried for him. He's still fighting whatever he's had since last night. It's amazing he managed to work his havoc. (I'm trying hard to not look. Death isn't pretty, but the alternative... I harden.)
Voices of panic at Izark's strength, despited his weakness, are calling back into the hallway. Then I hear a voice I recognize and a snarl comes to my face. Damn night watchman. Spy for the forest pirate with the rodent, let his nest of nasty's know Izark would be easy pickings tonight. If I see him, I'm going to kill him, I can feel it. Oh, No You Don't! I snatch at the covering on my bed as one of the men in the room grabs at it to throw it over Izark. Ah... That let them all know I was in the room and eyes are on me. I instinctively throw the cover in my hand over the man closest to me, that was just playing tug of war with me, turn about fair play.
A strong arm is around my waist and we are crashing through the window to the dark road below. There is a sudden halt to our fall, then a very short fall following it. That feels weird but I don't have much time to consider it. "[Go.]" Izark is shoving at me weakly. "[Run. There isn't any hope for me, but you can still get away. Go!]"
"Not on your life, buddy." I make sure he's got his sword in hand, then lift his shoulders until his back is resting on my chest. Wrapping my arms around his chest under his arms, I dig my heels in and haul back. Once I overcome the resistance of a body at rest, we are moving - slowly - but moving. I've never carried anything heavier than a fifty pound sack of flour once, and that was more than I could handle almost. He's got to be at least three times that. As long as I'm only pulling, and not lifting, I can move him.
A blur of sweat, agonizingly slow movement, hearing the bandits at the inn calling to each other, lighting torches that flicker in the distance still, I know there isn't much time. By the time we are down the stairs and under the bridge, going through the obstacle course of stored items, I've already forgotten how we made it here. I drag him, now panting with sweat dripping down into my eyes, to partially sit up in the back, leaning against the back wall of this hiding place I've picked for lack of a better one. A few breaths to recover, checking to make sure he still is holding on to his sword. Good boy. I pat his hand - the one holding the sword hilt. Back to half-way between Izark and the entrance to roll barrels on their rims between us and the outside, lift boxes on top of the barrels... My arms are killing me from the strain, but I've got things to do.
As soon as I'm set up, there are foot steps and voices above us, running in the street. I quickly hunt for small items until I have a large arm load, then I'm running back to Izark. I put my weapons on the ground at hand, standing where I can protect him, but not trip over him. Not a moment too soon. The flicker of carried torchlight is at the entrance to our hiding place. I watch as it approaches until it just passes my barrier, then zam! I've hit the man carrying it in the head. I'm a good aim, with all my practice with my brother, but my throwing speed is low, so it likely doesn't do much damage. I don't care. I spend the next desperate minutes playing one of my least favorite mini quests of Zelda: Majora's Mask - the bow and arrow fight from 1 a.m. until dawn keeping the aliens from taking the cows from the barn. I'm alternating which of the two men I'm throwing things at, picking the closest one at any given time and this is just as frightening as that part of the game.
Only...I don't have unlimited weapons and when I'm out they are all on the other side of the two men who have been only briefly held off, and my already abused arms are screaming at me now. My aim was pretty bad the last several throws and they'd only had to dodge the missiles. It'd be nice if dawn came right about now. There is movement next to me and suddenly Izark is moving, my dawn. Both men are down quickly. I stare after Izark, then shake my head and head after him. I can't be surprised any more, at least not on the surface that is trying to keep me alive. The clamped emotions are super worried. He leaps from the level we are at, just outside the entrance, and I run, arriving just in time to hear the cries of the men above us. He must be feeling better...or something, to be able to do that jump.
I head for the opposite stairs from the ones we came down - all the bandits are arriving from that side. By the time I'm up the stairs, three at a time, Izark has already felled another four and a fifth is falling. This is really too many people to send against one. My sense of absolute fairness has just about had it. The anger is roiling out of the clamped emotions and into my muscles as adrenaline and clear-headedness. My eyes watch closely. Whiirr-clank-clank. A chain has wrapped around Izark's raised sword and holds him. Now fear does pierce through. Izark doesn't move. Doesn't he remember the teleporting bandit?! Speak of the devil. He appears in front of Izark and immediately stabs, and blood spurts from Izark's chest.
Next thing I know I'm slamming into the bandit's side and he is thrown back. I'm thrown to my hands and knees from the impact, but my eyes stay on the bandit. He is okay, except yelling in pain, but a grey mist catches my attention. The rodent on his shoulder was pierced by a sword and it is disappearing into foggy smoke. I stare at it, once again my vision and my sense of absolute reality going in orthogonal directions. Then I shake my head. The bandit isn't moving, has lost his interest in me. I turn and move quickly, headed for Izark.
A movement over my head and I roll. Just about got a shave. A hilt is under my hand and I grasp it on the way until I'm up on my knee next to Izark. The knife is tucked under my arm, the hilt in my hand. I haven't ever used one in this way, but I'm going to. Then I realize Izark is standing next to me, no longer on the ground. I glance up at him, and he is wavering slightly, but oddly looks stronger than he did back in the bedroom when these guys first attacked. ...It's in his stance - his legs. They stand strong and don't stagger. The strength moves up to his arms and hand that is firmly clenched on the handle of his sword. What kind of exhaustion is worse after sleep and better after activity? My eyes keep going up and stop. He has lengthened canines and his eyes are green-blue, and going lighter. They are also slit pupils. My breath catches, and I'm floored.
Whirrh-clank! The chain is back, but this time Izark caught it and he pulls, hard. The weapon on the other side is pulled from the hands of the bandit holding it. I duck and it sails past to hit someone behind us. I quickly scan to see who is around us and how far, but all the men are frozen, looking at Izark. I've just seen a change in him that amounts to the second level fighter, and it stole my breath. These men look like they've never seen anything like it at all and are piss-scared. I bare my teeth in a satisfied grin, and hiss. The head bandit is up and running away. Shortly thereafter the few remaining take off after him. When I'm satisfied no one else is going to move, I look up at Izark. He is looking after the men, his back to me, and he is standing strong. He is also very angry. I leave him be for now and go hunting for the sheath my new knife belongs to, pulling it off the belt of the heavy man who doesn't need it any more.
I stand up and shove the knife into its sheath. The little click draws Izark's attention. He seems to have calmed down, and is looking at me with a strange expression of surprise. I look at him firmly, but my heart is starting to beat quickly in my chest again, the need for the adrenaline being gone now. I take a deep breath, then point to my chest, then his, raising an eyebrow. He glances down at his chest, then shakes his head. Fine, I nod. He stares at me like I'm crazy. I am, I say wryly to myself. He looks at the knife, then frowns. He looks up at me, opens his mouth, finally sees my expression, snaps his mouth closed and turns away. What? He's laughing at me silently, again. I walk up to him, scowling in anger and shove him in the arm. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep his laugh under wraps. I'm disappointed - his eyes are back to the original light brown with green highlights, and round pupils. My shoulders finally relax, and I put my hands on my hips.
I'm suddenly grabbed by my left wrist, and I have to clench to keep hold of my knife. I scowl at him again, but he isn't looking at my eyes, he's looking at my arm, then up into my eyes, anger and a glint of fear in his eyes. I look down. Oh. That...well... I look up at him and shake my head. I point to the fact there is no hole in my sleeve. He's immediately rolling my sleeve up. I roll my eyes and let him, though I protest when he isn't as careful as he should be and the pain goes shooting up my arm finally. He can see it's bandaged and freezes. The glare of accusation can't be met. I sigh. "[Doctor.]" He scowls. "[Doctor] tell," I point to my mouth, then his ear, "Izark." He is immediately frog marching me back to the inn. I have to trot to keep up with him.
The villagers have been cautiously coming out of their homes, now that the ruckus has died down, and Izark calls to one of them. "[Doctor, now.]" That person takes off running. He's asked questions and answers them shortly, all while on the move, and then we are in the inn.
We are arguing - sort of. It's kind of a hard thing to do in two different languages. I've told him I'm keeping the knife and as long as he and I walk together I've got his back. He's told me I'm crazy and he doesn't need my protection. I just point at his chest, he throws up his hands and shakes his head, and we start all over again. It is cut off by the opening of the door to the room we were given to wait in. "[Doctor!]" we say at the same time, then point to each other, both of us scowling. The Doctor looks between us. He knows what my injury is. He heads for Izark, who backs up and protests, shaking his head. The Doctor pauses, then makes a motion and gives a command. Izark reaches and pulls his shirt off over his head.
It's as I expected. His wound is at best an old scar. They talk while I slip over and put my hand on the scar lightly. Yup. It's healing under my touch. I can feel the skin growing properly under my fingers and the scar shrinking. Izark begins to move away and I grab Izark's arm and turn him away from me and the Doctor so the wound site can't be seen, gesturing he's to get dressed again. I turn to the Doctor, standing in front of Izark and hold out my arm, distracting him from Izark.
The newly repoulticed wound is feeling much better, though I hissed in pain when the previous bandage was removed. I relax in my chair, leaning my head back against the top of the back of it. "[Thank you, Doctor.]" I say as my eyes close. I get to hear the explanation of what I did. Izark asks questions, lots of them, it seems to me, then finally summarily sends the Doctor off. He's back to angry again - a cold anger this time. I knew he would, for some reason. As soon as we are alone, he's got both hands to either side of me on the corners of the back of my chair, and his face is very close to mine. "Noriko...No!" I can tell he wants to rant, and he does for a while, but I can't understand it and don't want to even pretend to translate it. I lift my hand to his face and touch him gently. "Izark," I say gently, when he freezes in surprise. "Noriko okay." He fiercely turns his head away, biting his lip, his face crunched in a pained, and still angered, look. He looks lost because he can't understand why I would do such a crazy and strange thing.
I sigh and stand up. He has to move back to let me. I take him by the wrist and drag him to the bed with me. I put my knife on the book-case style head board, then crawl into the bed. I'm so tired and the emotions unvented are trying to decide if they are going to just fade or explode. I pull on his arm, and he relents enough to sit next to me on the bed. That's good enough for me. I hold his hand to my cheek, like I'm holding the corner of a favorite blanket. When I've relaxed enough, the tears start leaking out, but thankfully I'm tired enough that it isn't for long. When he leaves, I'm hanging in a doze-like state: too asleep to protest, not quite fully gone yet. But, somehow, I can feel he is walking down the stairs, standing in the room on the other side of them, then finally lying down in the bed there. Once he is, it is like he is laying in bed with me, his warmth still by my side, and I finally relax enough to slip into the darkness of sleep.
When I wake up, it feels cold. Like the panther that had been my warmth and protection through the night has left to prowl. I makes me feel nervous and I can't stay in bed. My wound is feeling better this morning. Yesterday by evening it was itchy and each movement that stretched the scab hurt. Today it feels wrapped just tightly enough and like it is sealing much better. I'm not sure what to do about my bloodied sleeve of my underdress. It's the only dress I own, after all, and I don't even own it. Izark does. I pause. Is that was why he was so angry I cut myself and put myself in danger. Does he own me, because he has been taking care of me? or perhaps even because he found me in the forest? ...It doesn't seem likely. I haven't seen anything that looks like slavery yet. Just normal people trying to get by in life, and some who do it the wrong way.
There are things to do today, and because I want to hide the nervous feeling that is brought on by the sense of cold, I head out to do them. The first stop is the kitchen where the innkeeper's wife immediately brings me my tea and roll. This time she asks if I'd like jam. I'm interested and it doesn't smell too bad, so I add that to the morning's menu. I don't let her leave, though. I ask for Izark's bag. It's got my things in it, too, and I need it.
I pull out the paper the Doctor gave me and pantomime for a pen and ink. She's on it. The Doctor probably told her, and likely everyone else that was coming and going last night, how to communictate with me. When we come up for air, I've made her laugh. I understand the what but not the how and she can't figure it out. She seems to put it down to me coming from a very strange, very far away island. Like, in my world, pads are sticky and a woman's best friend. The way the women dealt with periods back before then has been completely forgotten, and for the better according to everyone on my planet. I'm still in agreement with that theory. Here, I have to wear a string belt, and a long narrow 'pad' of cloth and tie them to the string, front and back? Seriously? Not! I dig into my bag.
If I've been brought here to bring tiny changes to this planet, by gum I'm going to make this change. Every woman on the planet will thank me. I can't introduce temporary sticky gums. I'm not that sophisticated. But I can introduce safety pins. I know blacksmithing is an art and science in the middle ages, and all the handles and knockers on the doors, and hinges, are metal. There isn't a lot of it, but it exists. I carefully open my emergency kit inside Izark's bag so she doesn't see it and pull out two of the three safety pins. They are all of a sudden worth more than the two pads to me, so I'm very careful with them. It's the first time I've dug through Izark's bag, and I feel a little self-conscious, like I'm going through his dresser, but I need...Ah, there it is. I pull out a second bandanna. Thought he'd have an extra!
I show the innkeeper's wife one of the safety pins, carefully showing her how to open and close it. Then I take Izark's bandanna and fold it so it isn't too thick for the pin, place it on the skirt of my overdress and show her how to pin the two together. She looks at it in amazement, carefully studying it. Her eyes go calculating and I can see she wants one as badly as I do now. She even asks if she can have one. I'm firm. No. But I do trace it, then draw a larger one, and continue on to draw what the point casing looks like. Half-way through the drawing, she's jumped up and run to the door, then called out and come back, her eyes excited. We are in the middle of talking about how I clean the cloths, and clothes in general - and again she thinks I'm really weird for not knowing how - when the door to the inn opens and a man walks in.
Ah, that's who I was hoping to see! He's a blacksmith by burly arms, singed apron, and smell of sulpher coal. I grin at him and the inn keeper's wife is grinning just as big. He looks at us both suspiciously. The innkeeper's wife draws for me that he's her cousin and I greet him politely, then motion him over to come and see my drawing. He looks at it closely and he and she talk a fast blue streak for a bit. He wants to know if he can see mine. I hold up my finger, then try to decide how to say it. It takes another piece of paper, but by the time we are done, we have a pictographic contract. I let him know the secrets of the safety pin and he makes me one hundred, payable when I can get back here next. For every ten he sells, he makes two for me. It's going to be hard, he can't roll their metal quite that thin and I'm suspicious it won't be flexible enough until he's done some metalurgical experimentation. Most of the metal he works with looks like the hard, brittle cast iron. Ah, but...swords, that's another metal altogether.
I finally let him see the pins themselves and how they really work. He explores them in detail, asking why the loop at the end. I push on the open pin to show it's a spring. He gets it. They must use springs in wagons, then. Our trip here had seemed that way. The bumps weren't too harsh. Then I point to the door handle and shake my head. I pull out my knife and waggle my hand. Close enough. He looks between the two metals, then nods like he's got an idea. I make sure I've got all my precious pins back, and in the emergency kit, before he leaves, letting him take the plans and a proper copy of the contract with both our signatures on both copies. They seemed surprised I'd required that. I might be young. I'm not stupid. Everyone with a boy band crush understands contracts and what happens when they fall through and your favorite gets lost just because of bad paperwork. I date it, too, though with my numbers. I'll have to look up their numbers when I can get out the dictionary in private. Need to memorize numbers faster.
It sounded like the innkeeper's wife placed an order on her cousin's way out the door, too. The safety pin method won't be perfect, but if it gets rid of the damn rope around the middle of the body, it's a massive improvement. She takes off while I'm putting things away and arrives five minutes later with a handful of cloth pads for me and a wooden box of laundry soap. "Sheshe." I say gratefully. She pats me on the head with a smile and I smile back. They're free. I just gave her the best present ever...if her cousin can make it work. Now...there is just one other problem I need to take care of. I went to put my phone in Izark's bag while she was gone, and it isn't in my waistband, nor on my person at all, and I'm panicking.
While she's there, I search through Izark's bag again and fake extreme distress that I can't find something. I beg her to let me go back to the original room we were in to look for it. She is kindly helpful and we go up there together, me carrying the bag with. I'm starting to get even more nervous. Something isn't right with Izark. I can't shake that feeling. Moving is all I can do to combat it. We get up to the room and I search first under Izark's bed. Sure enough, I'd kicked it all the way to the back corner when I'd moved to protect myself. I wiggle my way under the bed, collect the cell phone and shove it inside my dress. The waistband will hold it in for now, when I stand up. I manage to find a few coins as well and collect them. Hey, Link always finds Rupees under beds, right? When I come back out, I show her the coins. "[Is that what you were looking for?]" I shake my head sadly. She closes my hand around the coins. Yes! I'm Link! She looks under my bed, but shakes her head. Nothing. I search some more, then look out the window, then shrug. It could have been lost anywhere out there. She pats my hand consolingly and we go back out of the room. She's cleaned up the blood already, as best she could, but the floor is still stained darkly. It isn't helping my worry for Izark.
"Izark?" I ask, letting the worry out and holding the bag tightly to me. She starts to talk fast again, then stops and just motions for me to go with her. We reach the table we've been "talking" at and she draws, though not well, until I understand he's gone after the rest of the bandits and will be back when he's done. I ask how long it should take and she asks her husband. After a bit, they decide it isn't time to worry yet. I bite my lip, but nod and thank them, making an excuse to flee to my room.
I fish out my phone and dump it into the bottom of Izark's bag. I really need a bag of my own. I'd rather he not find it. I fish it back out again and put it where it belongs in my waistband. Maybe I can ask him to get me one before we leave town. I'd love to get more paper - a blank book if possible - and ink and pen, so I can have them out to use in public. While I'm making up a shopping list, I put the chair from last night in the window of the room, sit down on it, and hold Izark's bag in my lap like a comfort pillow again. They said there were only four bandits and maybe a couple more. It shouldn't be taking him this long, unless they are a long ways away from here. He'd been given a horse to ride, though he can probably run faster than one if he's got his strength back properly, though I'd rather he not use it up again just after he got better. He's crazy to have gone after them just after recovering, really. Though... I guess he wouldn't want them to get away with the loot.
I lean on the bag and sigh, looking out the window for him like a puppy left at home alone. Suddenly, I realize the warmth of his presence is returning and I sit up, looking for him, like the puppy who can sense the owner is just about home. When I see him, I stand upright in shock and the bag in my lap drops to the floor. Good thing I didn't leave the phone in the bottom of it. That would have cracked the screen for sure. "IZARK!" I'm yelling in horrified worry and scolding at the same time, leaning out of the open window. "What the hell'd you do this time!? Can't you keep your clothes from getting ruined for even one day? Don't you know how much effort goes into making them? And that was a nice outfit, too." He is staring at me open mouthed as he rides up, not sure he wants to be admitting he knows this crazy person. I stand up on the ledge of the window and he panics. By the time I'm half way to the ground, he's lept up and caught me. He sets me on the ground and starts to lecture me, but I grab his jacket front and lecture back, pointing to his torn sleeve, ragged hem of his jacket, all the holes.
I'm pulling him to me and hiding my head in his chest and the tears and sobs won't quit. All of yesterday, last night, and the worry of today finally pour out. Sigh. What a water fountain I am. His hand on my head is warm, though, until he pushes me away and I see he is completely embarrassed. Oh, dear. A public display. What have I done? I can't stop the tears, but I do get the sobs under control. "[Sorry, Izark.]" He sighs, takes my wrist and pulls me into the inn again, me stumbling because I can't see through the tears. He walks slowly, though, at my pace. When we are inside, he says, "[Sorry, Noriko. I'm] okay." I want him to run his fingers through my hair and kiss me. I duck my head and nod, instead, the reaction embarrassing even to me. I turn away from him, suddenly very sad. I don't even know if I'll get to see him again after today.
The Doctor and his friend come into the inn, the friend being loud again, and being talked back down by the innkeeper's wife this time, a bit scolding, and she scolds Izark as well. They all talk a bit and I listen, trying to get the flow of general conversation and the sounds of the words into my head. Then Izark is asking for his bag to change his clothes. I nod and lead him up the stairs, back to the room I slept in, the one I jumped out of the window of. As he goes through his bag to find clothes he can wear - I wonder if he has any more. It's not a bag of holding, after all, though we've put a lot in there. - I'm reminded of what I've done with leaping out a window and I want to bang my head on a wall. Not only was it a stupid thing to do in the first place, it made him show the village he had the ability to move fast and jump high, and land without hurting us. Idiot, I tell myself. Just use the stairs next time.
"Izark," I wave at the window, "[I'm sorry.]" I can't look at him again, but I'm feeling miserable. He finishes wrapping his belt around his waist. I wasn't even paying attention to him change, I realize with a start. He is quiet, not looking at me either. "Izark," "Noriko," we say at the same time. I close my mouth and bite my lip, putting my hands together in front of my skirt. I bow slightly and wait for him to continue, still not looking up at him, though I am facing him as best I can, and feeling like the puppy that is about to get a well deserved scolding.
He can't hold his words in, but they aren't scolding - at least I don't think they are. If they are it's a very gentle scolding. It sounds more like an explanation. He pauses and I finally look up, trying to understand. I have to see his face to get even a sense of what he's talking about. When I'm looking at him again, he says, "Tomorrow, Noriko Izark [go]."
My heart stops and then leaps. I try to keep it under control. "Wha-wha?" I'm blinking fiercely, trying to understand if I've heard right. "Noriko [go] with Izark?" His eyes are suddenly gentle with compassion as he understands just how frightened I've been that he was going to leave me here in Calco. He nods. "Tomorrow." I drop my face into my hands and sob again, so hard I sink to my knees, my head bowed over my knees. "Sheshe, Izark."
