BAR

Chapter Four

Red Sonja returned to the inn an hour before sunset. Bar was at the door to greet her, and he bowed as she entered. He'd taken some effort over his appearance; his beard and hair were combed, and he was wearing a shirt of clean linen. He was unarmed, and his dogs were nowhere to be seen.

"Welcome, lady. Enter and be seated." Sonja did so. The table was heaped with food, the smells of which reminded her that she was ravenous. Other than Bar and the innkeeper, the room was deserted.

"Do you prefer wine or ale?" Bar asked.

"Ale."

Bar glanced in the direction of Guhla, who hastened to place a brimming flagon in front of Sonja.

"Now get out," Bar told him, and he scurried off.

Bar sat down opposite Sonja and raised his own tankard. "Your health."

"Thank-you."

"Please eat."

"With my fingers?"

"Ah, forgive me." Bar reached inside his shirt and produced a knife. It was the one that Sonja had carried in her boot. She accepted it from him with a raising of the eyebrows which showed that she fully appreciated the irony of the gesture.

Sonja ate. The food was wholesome and plentiful; and Bar was a surprisingly gracious and attentive host. He asked her about her travels and listened politely to her responses. Sonja began to relax, and even enjoy herself.

"And where are you from, originally?" Bar asked eventually.

"Hyrkania."

"My knowledge of geography is sadly lacking, I'm afraid. Where is Hyrkania?"

Sonja sighed. "It's been so long I've almost forgotten. East and a little north of here, I think. Two months' journey; perhaps three."

"How long since you left?"

"I've stopped counting the years. I was a girl."

"And you've been wandering since then?"

"My home is the road."

"Now that I don't understand. That life is not for me. This land - well, it's not much; you could walk across it in two days. But it's mine. I've never set foot beyond its borders. Nor do I want to."

"It must help that your word is law round here."

"Undoubtedly. But do not tell me you couldn't rule; couldn't command respect."

"Maybe. I've never stayed anywhere long enough to find out."

"Really? So what are you looking for? What do you really want?"

Sonja stared into the depths of her ale. "I don't know."

"That's sad. I don't see how anyone can be happy unless they know what they want."

"Happy? Once I thought I knew what that word meant. But now? There've been times when I thought I was happy; but perhaps they were just moments when I forgot that I wasn't." There was a long pause; then Sonja seemed to mentally shake herself.

"Anyway," she said, "I suppose you've got everything you want."

"Everything. Except one thing."

"And what might that be?"

"I want a woman."

Slowly, Sonja put down her knife, and stared across the table at Bar. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"I might."

"Might? That's rather indecisive of you. You strike me as a man who knows what he wants and simply takes it. Or takes her."

"Oh, I've taken women all right. More than I can count. But that has ceased to satisfy. I want a woman who is strong and unafraid; a woman who is proud to stand by my side. Can you think of such a one?"

Sonja ignored the question. "Tell me," she said, "Have you given a thought for them?"

"Who?"

"The women you've taken. By force, I presume?"

"Indeed. What of it?"

"Have you ever given a thought to what they felt about being taken?"

"No; should I have?"

Sonja's stare grew cold. "I could tell you a story about a woman who was taken against her will."

Bar returned her stare. "A woman? Or a girl?"

There was a long, tense silence. "So you're not all bicep and sinew?"

"Not quite. Red Sonja; I want you to be my woman."

"No."

"No? But I'm offering you what you most want."

"A man?"

"A home. Don't deny it, Red Sonja. Look into your heart. It's what you've been looking for all these years, even if you haven't realised it."

"Strange that you can read my heart better than me."

"I'm not a fool, Sonja. People think I am – an unfeeling, brutal fool. Well, the second of those three words is right; I told you my heart was black. But the other two words don't fit me at all. Look into my eyes and say I'm wrong about you."

"I'm looking; and I can see you're no fool. What colour your heart is, I don't care; mine isn't so pure. But the answer is still no. I couldn't accept, anyway, even if I wanted to. I'm not saying I do; but even so."

"Couldn't? Why not?"

"Because I'm under a curse."

"I don't believe in curses."

"Believe in this one. I was, as you surmise, taken as a girl. Several times. Taken and left for dead. And whilst I lay dying, a Goddess appeared to me. She offered me life. She offered me a strong right arm and skill with a blade. She offered me courage, hardiness, and the blood of my abusers. In return, I was to take an oath. And, as you noted earlier, my oaths are strong."

"And what was that oath?"

"That I would never give myself to any man, unless he had first defeated me in a fair fight."

"I see. And you've kept your oath?"

"Every day."

"I don't doubt you. Nor do I doubt that many have tried to claim the prize."

"Years are not the only thing I've stopped counting."

"Tell me; did this Goddess also gift you your -" Bar gestured vaguely at Sonja's chest.

"Armour?"

"Not the word I'd've chosen. But yes; does your armour mark you out as an adherent of hers?"

"No. It was given to me by another. Not as a gift, you may be sure. I spilled his blood."

"It sounds an interesting tale."

"It is; but I've never met anyone I wanted to tell it to."

Bar didn't press the point. Instead he asked, "Do you pray to your Goddess?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I? I told you, she cursed me."

"Is the gift of life a curse?"

"Sometimes. I've never seen the Goddess since. Perhaps she has forgotten me. Perhaps she was only ever in my mind. Or perhaps she is guiding my footsteps yet. Perhaps she intended that I should wear this armour; perhaps she put into my mind the thought that I should keep it, never mind the way it was forced upon me. Perhaps she has some plan for me that I cannot see."

"Then perhaps she guided you here? More ale?"

"No, thank-you. But let me ask you something."

"By all means."

"You said you admired my spirit. You said also that there was another whose spirit you admired. What of her?"

Bar leant back in his chair. "Ahhh; so you're not just red hair and – scraps of steel."

"I'm not a fool, any more than you."

"Bravo. You were made for me. And I for you."

"I think not; but continue."

"Her name was Nyla. She was not afraid of me."

"Is that it?"

"No. She was young, she was beautiful, she was brave. And I wanted her."

"And you took her."

"No, I did not. Of all the people in the country where my writ runs, she was the one – the only one – who was not afraid of me. She was the only one who did not cringe as I passed; who did not send me gifts to appease my future wrath. That angered me. I wanted her, yet I could not take her; I wanted her to give herself to me of her own free will. I wanted her to be my woman; but I had not the wit to ask. Now it is too late."

"So what happened to her?"

"I killed her. I made her play the game, and I killed her. My heart was never blacker than on that day."

"The game?"

"Perhaps I'll make you play it tomorrow. It has been a long time since it has given me any pleasure. Maybe that is Nyla's revenge."

"Perhaps the Goddess sent me here because of Nyla."

"Perhaps. But it is getting late. I have things I must attend to, so I bid you good-night. You may use the room you awoke in. I've had Guhla put clean blankets on the bed."

"No chains?"

"Certainly not. There is even a bolt on the inside of the door, if you so choose."

"Until the morning then." Sonja wiped her knife and slid it into her boot. Bar watched her do so, but said nothing. He got to his feet as she rose from the table, and watched in silence as she climbed the stairs. There came the sound of a door opening and closing; then of a bolt being slotted home.

Bar smiled to himself, then left the inn. Two canine shadows attached themselves to him as he strode into the night.