Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Dynamite Comics, etc.
You all thought I forgot about this story didn't you? Well I might have for a bit there.
Mr. Shangles: Glad you're enjoying it, and it will be continued. General plan is one update a month.
Somebody asked if I would do any comic story arcs, and this is the one I had in mind. It also answers that Sonja origin question. This is all setup for it so you'll have to wait just a bit to get all the answers. The song is one from a new band I've just started listening to called Beast in Black and is off their second album From Hell With Love. A bit softer metal I'd say, lots of synths, and twin vocals give them a different sound than what I usually like.
Once Upon a Time in Hyboria
Chapter 10: Heart of Steel
Walker kept his eyes scanning over the horizon, but the three days since the pair had left Meroe had been nothing but uneventful. All he had to do was admire the scenery, and it was so beautiful he was looking at the land and not just Sonja. In the first day of riding, they had crossed into a state called "Stygia" as they continued north. The forests that dominated the south had thinned, and the two carved through the beautiful rolling hills, Sonja in front and Walker following.
The relationship between them was steadily improving, Joshua noted that the Hyrkanian did not treat him as coldly as she had before, but conversation had been a rare occurrence in any case. Walker could live with that; as beautiful as she was, he didn't need a connection with her, just her help, and getting it was no longer like pulling teeth.
Around midday of second day the two crossed a river by negotiating with a ferryman and when he pressed them too far, and Sonja put the tip of her blade to his throat to make it clear they would pay no more. After that, the land had changed drastically into something Walker was more at home in, flattening out with the sand and towering tress giving way to shorter, stouter flora that resembled the cacti in the New Mexico Territory. That second night had seen them camp in the wild, and the Bounty Hunter couldn't help but feel a tinge of homesickness when the familiar desert chill accompanying the full moon that appeared overhead.
He wished to return to the Territories and get back to the existence he had carved out for himself, rough and trying as it was. The thing he wanted after that was to see Kulan Gath get what he had coming to him, but after her display in Lokaars establishment, there was no doubt in his mind that Calamity Dame would inflict suitable retribution against the sorcerer. He had heard the name 'She Devil with a Sword' thrown about regarding the flaming haired Hyrkanian he was riding with and seeing her in action proved where she had gotten that moniker. If he had to be stuck with a partner, he didn't think he would find a much better one if he tried.
But there wasn't much more she could do to alleviate the monotony of the long trip than the outfit she was wearing, and Walker wasn't willing to risk their current understanding to try.
That understanding would not last forever.
On that third day, with the sun still on its upwards trajectory, Walker saw something. "Sonja! Whoa up!" he shouted. Shelby began to slow instantly, and the Swordswoman slowed her own steed to a stop. Riding alongside, the Bounty Hunter pointed to what had caught his eye. "Look on over there Calamity Dame! I spy smoke."
It was faint, but there was a column of black reaching towards the blue sky on the other side of a ridge. "Well spotted Joshua Walker," returned the redhead, "What say you? Shall we investigate?"
The Bounty Hunter briefly considered the question, he didn't want to lose any more time than they already had but hadn't pointed it out just for it to be ignored. "I reckon so," he replied in his calm drawl, eyes still scanning for anything else out of the ordinary. "I'll lead. Giddy up!" prompted Walker with a flick of the reins.
Here, Walker and Shelby's experience in the deserts of the New Mexico Territory showed through. Sonja was a good rider, but Walker pulled ahead of the Swordswoman as they negotiated the slope of the ridge and stopped at the top. What the Bounty Hunter saw made him grimace, but he didn't show much other emotion. Sonja on the other hand, blanched visibly and exclaimed "Tarim's blood!"
It was a homestead, or it had been. Only the main house was a smoldering ruin, there was a pen that had held cattle, but the only ones left were slumped over dead, a small patch that looked to have once grown crops had been ransacked and any crops that might have been there had been taken. The only thing that looked relatively intact was a small shed, but the doors to it were open and it was likely anything of value inside was gone.
This wasn't the first time Tombstone had seen something like this, having hunted bandits more than once before. Whatever bandits might have been responsible for this, however, were long gone, the fires had all burned themselves out and there was no movement that the Gunslinger could see.
He was about to turn to ask Sonja what she wanted to do only to see that the redheaded Hyrkanian had already set off down the hill. "God damnit Calamity Dame," muttered Walker before steering his horse towards the path Sonja had taken, "Let's go Shelby." The horse trotted down the hill after the redhead, who seemed to be moving with a newfound purpose. Joshua doggedly followed, picking up speed once the ground leveled out until arriving at the raided homestead.
The situation wasn't pretty, and as he dismounted his horse and wrapped the reins around one of the still standing fenceposts of the pen, Walker could see that Sonja was practically radiating unease. She was already looking around with a pensive expression and deep in thought, so much so that she didn't even acknowledge Joshua when he strode up. "Damnable savages," snarled the She-Devil, but her voice trembled, not in fear but despair. "They had better pray to whatever gods they have that they never find themselves at the tip of my blade. Their destruction is the will of my goddess, and I will be her instrument," vowed Sonja.
"Didn't take you as a woman of faith Sonja," drawled Walker, prompting the woman to face him with narrowed eyes. "Must be a strong faith if you'd allow yourself to be a… what'd you say? An 'instrument' of your goddess."
"Do you have no gods in your land?" she asked. Walker noticed that her question had no disdain, as her inquires had previously, only curiosity.
"We have one," replied the Bounty Hunter, thinking back to a time that seemed so far away before riding himself of the thoughts and facing the woman. "We aren't on such great terms, him and I. Definitely not any that'd make me consider myself his 'instrument," explained Walker as he turned away and lowly added, "I ain't nobody's tool."
Sonja didn't answer, instead turning her attention back to the ruined homestead. "Perhaps a search will reveal clues as to who is responsible for this savagery. We must find any that there are."
With poise, the Hyrkanian strode forwards without waiting for Walkers answer. The Bounty Hunter shook his head, but could see how the woman was acting and knew enough than to do anything except follow suit. He looked at the pen and noticed that the cows that had been left behind were ones which didn't appear fit for slaughter. His mind began working, remembering a bounty that had been wanted strictly for cattle rustling, the price on his head had been as high as a stagecoach robber.
But nothing matched the brutality of this raid, which looked more like the work of Comanche than bandit. That was something he knew less of, he had only encountered the vicious Indians twice, and that was enough for Tombstone. Sonja was staring forlornly at the embers of what had been a small, simple home and the three bodies outside it. They were all men, a father and his two sons if Walker were to guess, all looked like they had been brutally hacked apart by swords or axes. That only made it look more like a Comanche attack to the Bounty Hunter.
The Gunslinger wondered for a moment what the Hyrkanian was thinking about before instead looking elsewhere for clues. "There are horse tracks here," he said, "Looks like a half dozen or so that went out that way. Same way we're headin, wanna follow?"
"Not yet," replied Sonja as she took a step back and inhaled deeply, "More happened here."
"Sure did, folks went from the house to the shed on foot," answered the Gunslinger, nodding towards the indents in the earth.
He watched the Hyrkanian look down and examine the tracks, and Walker was curious to see if she would reach the same conclusions. Sonja looked up and said, "They were moving something, dragging it behind them, something of considerable weight."
"Not something," corrected Walker with a shake of his head. Walking alongside the tracks, the Bounty Hunter continued, "Someone, see here," directed Tombstone, pointing at a spot on the ground. The marks were ones he had seen before, more than he cared to admit and he explained what they meant. "There are two trails, deep in places, but at others? They disappear."
"Why is that?" inquired the Red Woman.
"Because whoever was being dragged didn't want to be. They were kicking, fighting," he revealed in a weary tone. "But they didn't have no size or strength, they couldn't do a thing looks like."
Sonja slowly walked amidst the tracks and came to a stop alongside the drag marks, comparing them to her own feet and seeing that they were certainly smaller. The Hyrkanian was not a small woman, but her feet dwarfed the tracks, and they both reached the same conclusion at the same time.
But they pressed on, rounding the corner and entering the shed. What greeted them was a sight that made Walker sick to his stomach. There was a woman laying on the ground, face beaten beyond the point of recognition, clothes ripped to shreds, making it clear what had happened to her.
They both pressed on and found another woman, no, a girl in the back of the shed, slumped against the wall. She had clearly been through hell, her clothes were rags, and bruises covered her exposed skin but, incredibly, Walker could see her nose flaring ever so slightly. "By Mitra, she's alive," gasped Sonja.
That exclamation caused the girl's eyes to flutter before snapping wide open as she stared up at the two in shock and tried feebly to scramble back. "No! No more! P…please just… just kill me. They…they…."
Sonja instantly dropped down alongside the frightened girl and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "No, no death for you girl. We are here, and nothing will hurt you now," promised the Swordswoman. Standing silently, Walker lifted his leather canteen off his neck and stepped forward to hand it to Sonja, receiving a nod from the woman. "Here, drink," urged the Hyrkanian as she pressed the container to the girl's lips.
"Who did this?" asked Walker lowly.
"Bandits," whispered the girl after she had her fill of water, confirming Joshua's instincts. "They made camp in an abandoned fortress from the last war…" she managed before her voice trailed off and her eyes drooped tiredly. A moment later she was back asleep once again, and even a shake from Sonja couldn't rouse her.
"We will stay until she wakes," declared the She-Devil, tone declaring that there would be no argument on this.
Letting out a breath, Walker looked around and spied a shovel, one of the few items these bandits had left behind, resting in the corner. "I'll go be useful," he declared, even if it wouldn't sate the distinct itching on his trigger finger, it would be better than nothing. "Take all the time you need Calamity Dame, and holler if you need me."
Sonja was still failing to control her emotions as she tended to the young girl, cleaning the cuts and bruises that marred her skin. The Swordswoman wasn't sure exactly how long she had been working, but the sun hung very high in the air when she next emerged from the shed. Dumping out the dirty water she had been using to wipe down the surviving girl, the Hyrkanian made to the small well to refill the pail. On her way, she couldn't help but notice what Walker was doing, his odd overcoat, or 'Duster' as he called it, was thrown over the fence along with his shirt, leaving him to labor in the heat of midday bare chested. It was enough of a sight to distract Sonja's mind for a moment. The Foreigner was not built like most Sonja had seen, true, he was tall and broad shouldered, but he was leaner than a Hyborian warrior, quick and crafty as opposed to using brute strength.
The distraction could only last so long before Sonja's eyes drifted down to what had prompted the man to lose his shirt. Three freshly dug graves were neatly lined up on the ground and the Bounty Hunter was busy shoveling soil to make the fourth and final one that would be required for the family that had lived here. Continuing on, the She-Devil passed by the four cloth covered lumps on the ground and felt her breath hitch before steeling herself and pressing forwards.
Upon reaching the well, Sonja began hauling up fresh water but was unable to shake the thoughts that had been permeating her mind since she had laid eyes on this place, one that reminded her of a place she knew well. Closing her eyes for the briefest of moments, the redheaded woman could picture the Hyrkanian plains she used to roam on horseback, not unlike the more arid ones around her now. Vividly, she recalled the modest cottage, similar to the one that had burned down, tucked into a small clearing in the woods that were always full of game to hunt. The people she had spent her time there with, the mother who taught her sewing and cooking, a father who brought her on hunts, and the brothers she often teased and sparred with when she could escape her tasks.
They were pleasant thoughts, pleasant memories, only five winters past yet feeling like a lifetime ago. Sadly, Sonja could not dwell on them, and they were pushed away before they inevitably turned to less joyful memories.
Hefting the now refilled bucket, Sonja retraced her steps back towards the shed and saw that Walker had completed his task. The Bounty Hunter was in the process of redoing the peculiar 'buttons' on his shirt when he spied her approaching. "How's the girl?" he asked in his foreign drawl.
"The injuries to her body are but skin deep Joshua Walker," replied Sonja coolly, "The wounds to her spirit however… I fear they are far greater." That was something that Sonja understood all too well. "There are ways to heal such wounds," continued the Hyrkanian, "But they are not treatments that I can provide."
Turning to look at the man as he grabbed a satchel from his horse and took up position alongside her, Sonja waited for his response, but, strangely, the man offered none. Sonja had expected that he would press for them to leave, but did not get a single word to that effect. She would not have heeded such words in any case, and with her guiding them that would have settled the matter. That he had not suggested to the Swordswoman that he either had a mind about Sonja's own thoughts or the Hunter of Men was proving capable of unexpected acts of compassion.
When Walker finally spoke, his words caught Sonja off guard. "How do your people treat spiritual wounds?" he asked cautiously.
"Pray to the gods for a blessing," answered the She-Devil, "And then prove yourself to be worthy of it." Sonja watched the Bounty Hunter raise an eyebrow at her answer and crack a small smile, almost as if he found it amusing. "Your lands have different ways Joshua Walker?"
The man worked his jaw for a second, eyes staring off as if deep in thought before he replied suddenly. "Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing," said Walker before smiling again and meeting Sonja's eyes, "That's what our God says at least. Probably why I don't get on with him no more. Easier to forgive someone after they're dead and buried to my mind."
"In that, we are agreed," answered Sonja, unable to understand how one could follow a god that looked upon the evil of the world and told his followers that they must forgive to be blessed. She had met such people who believed these things in her travels, and the only other thing they had in common was that they were all plagued by some kind of banditry, rival tribe, or the like. More than one had taken Sonja to be a gift from their god sent to answer their prayers. Sonja held her tongue as she did what they would not and made off with a sum of coin each time.
Turning her focus back to the man who continued to capture her interest, Sonja pondered if he was much the same way. If his role was like that, a form of protection to those who followed the teachings of their god by hunting the men who threatened them, then it helped to lift the fog that continued to shroud the man who had bested her in mystery. Not an honor bound warrior or a gallant knight in any sense, but it helped to explain the unexpected instances of kindness he had displayed to those he held no ill will towards.
'And how does he view me?' wondered Sonja, the thought appearing out of nowhere. The man had no love for his own god, so how would he view the oaths she had sworn to hers? That same goddess which seemed to have her own designs for the Bounty Hunter, but would he deign to follow them? These were questions Sonja did not know for certain.
'Why should I care how he views me?' another part of her mind shouted. Sonja was not out to gain the approval of anyone, let alone a foreign man who made it clear that his desire was to return to his land. He was no king offering riches or boons, no forgemaster determining if she would be fit to wield his newest creation, he was here to give her the location of Gath, and that was all.
But that didn't sit entirely right with her either.
"If you're worried about me Calamity Dame, don't be," drawled the Gunslinger suddenly. Now pulled totally out of her conundrums, Sonja met his gaze. "I'm with you on this one. We're gonna find the sonsofbitches who did this and hang 'em from the nearest tree…wherever that may be," he amended after taking a quick look around.
Sonja was thankful for the man's conviction and wit, she needed to remain focused on the present lest she get lost in her past. The Hyrkanian would not let this girl go through her trials alone, not as she had to.
Entering the shed, the two made their way to the surviving girl, who looked as if she was only few winters shy of Sonja's age, clothed in what the Swordswoman had found to replace the tattered clothes she had been left in by the bandits. Walker sat down the satchel while Sonja began to wipe the girls face, but as soon as the rag met her skin, a pair of somber brown eyes began to open. The girl's first reaction was to try and scramble away from the Swordswoman, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her and Sonja said, "Peace girl, we mean you no harm. You have endured quite the ordeal, rest, and regain your strength." Nodding, the girl lay back down, lip still trembling as Sonja saw hints of tears forming in her eyes. "What be your name girl?"
"Ly…Lyreen, Lyreen Czernin," she replied shakily as she looked at the Hyrkanian, a gleam of recognition in her eye. "You're Red Sonja," she stated. The Swordswoman nodded in affirmation before Lyreen casted her eyes towards Walker, "But…the tales say you travel alone. Who is that?"
"My name's Joshua Walker," drawled the foreigner, "I don't mind if you ain't heard of me." He turned around, holding an unusual container in his hand, a small tin box with bright colors and words on top. Pulling on some part of it, Walker crouched down and presented it to Lyreen. The girl looked down hesitantly, and Sonja peered inside to see odd, crescent shaped things, orange in color, and sitting in water. "Go on, eat up."
Tentatively, Lyreen picked one of the odd fruits from the tin and took a small bite before her eyes went wide and she shoved the rest into her mouth. Sonja eyed the Bounty Hunter curiously, which he saw and replied by saying, "They're called 'peaches.' It's a kind of fruit from my home. Pretty good, huh?"
The young girl nodded as she eagerly relieved the Gunslinger of the tin and began downing the 'peaches' as quickly as she could. Walker chuckled and stepped back, a hint of a smile on his lips as he went back to work, picking out some small planks of wood that were lying about. Letting the man be, Sonja refocused on the girl, "We'll be riding soon, and you'll be coming with us little one."
"Where… where will you take me?" she asked between bites of the foreign fruit.
"Do you have relatives?" inquired the Hyrkanian, and Lyreen bobbed her head, "Then we will take you to them. After that we will ensure that those bandits will never harm you, or anyone else, again."
Lyreen's face turned pensive, and she stared down at the empty tin for a few moments, "I don't want to, I want to go with you." The young girl looked up and locked eyes with the Swordswoman, "I will see my family avenged," stated Lyreen with a voice like iron, strong and steady. "I want blood. I want to kill the bastards that burned my home, killed my family, and forced themselves on me. I will succeed or I will die, but I will not cower. Will you aid me?"
"It is not that simple Lyreen," allayed Sonja, but she could see that her words were barely heeded, "A noble warrior says that this is not the sort of path that you should set out on, and there is wisdom in that." Sonja then took a breath and felt a hint of fire in her heart, "I am not a noble warrior, I will tell you there is healing in a blood-soaked blade and peace only comes after a battle. If this is truly the path you wish to pursue, I will not stop you, but I will make you do as I tell you. There will be no question or hesitation from you. Swear this to me."
"I swear to you," answered Lyreen, not flinching or faltering at the terms laid before her. Sonja nodded in approval, seeing the fire in the young girl's eyes and satisfied at the arrangement. Lyreen then looked towards Walker and asked him, "Will you object to this arrangement Joshua Walker?"
"Nah, I know better than to second guess her," drawled the Bounty Hunter, nodding towards the Hyrkanian. "I just want you to know that I can't promise that you'll be safe, or that this will be pleasant, or even that it will help you," explained Walker as he came back and knelt down next to the girl, "All I can promise is that those men will die. After all," he said with a small smirk, "They call me 'Tombstone' for a reason."
"That is all I ask," answered the young girl.
"Atta' girl," drawled Walker as he stood to his full height and offered Lyreen his hand, which she took before the foreign man pulled her to her feet. Sonja kept an eye on the girl, ensuring her legs were able to support her, and it seemed like the girl was a resilient one as she held herself upright, even managing to stand to her full height without help. "If you want to say any last words to your folks, now's the time."
Mention of her family seemed to shake Lyreen's resolve before Sonja realized that wasn't the case, she was not dissuaded by that, but rather still coming to terms with the fact that they were gone. A tear welled up in the young girls eyes again, but she kept it there before stepping forwards, leading the way out of the shed and into the heat of midday. Walker and Sonja followed at a respectful distance, watching as Lyreen made her way over to her family and said her words to them, but Sonja did not try to listen. They were between the girl and her family, not meant for Sonja or anyone else.
After a few minutes, Lyreen stepped away from the covered forms of her parents and siblings and turned to face them. Without a word, both Joshua and Sonja made their way to her and went through the unpleasant task of lowering the bodies into the newly dug graves. When they were all laid to rest, Sonja stood alongside Lyreen and heard her begin to say, "You have left to begin your final journey, your souls may roam, but they will never be far from me. I will endure, using what you have given me in life to honor you in death."
Sonja's eyes widened in recognition, and she joined Lyreen as hey spoke the next part together. "Scathach, Mistress of Red, these hearts are pure, their ends brave, and souls strong. They are worthy of your blessings in death. Guide them to where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry one never starves. Guide them Scathach, and these souls will be a family to you."
After the two had implored the Red Goddess, they turned their eyes to Walker, who was watching with a neutral expression. After a moment, the man nodded and removed his hat. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," he began, touching his hand to his forehead, chest, and each shoulder in turn. "Heavenly Father, eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace."
"Amen."
Closing Notes: Not much action here, but this will be a more character focused (and shorter) arc, primarily about Sonja's backstory, and will be inspired by a few issues in the 2005 comic run. Should be fun, looking forward to doing it.
Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.