Chapter Six

A Homecoming

Shad and his seven mercenaries ride throughout the day, guiding the horses of the slain Juns, the dead bodies slung over the beasts' backs. They follow the creek, as it will lead them eventually to the village of Akir. Shad insists on taking a break so that he can spear some fish with his trident for their supper. He proves to be quite skilled at spearing fish, and they soon have enough trout for a fine meal. They make camp at sunset, and sit about the campfire eating their meal. Shad can't help but stare at Sonja as she sits directly across the fire from him. Finally she puts her supper down. "What?" she demands.

"I'm sorry," says Shad nervously, "I didn't mean to stare."

"So why are you?"

"I was just wondering. . . ."

"Yes?"

"Isn't the purpose of armor to protect your flesh from harm?"

Sonja can't help but chuckle. "Yes, I suppose it is," she says.

"Then what good is armor which barely covers enough skin to protect your modesty, let alone your life?"

"A fair question," concedes Sonja, "But I'm hardly the only one here not completely covered in steel. Why not ask Conan the same question? Or Dar? Or Deathstalker?"

"Conan is a Cimmerian, a barbarian. They tend to shun armor simply on principle. And if they do wear armor, it's usually made of leather rather than steel. Dar lives in the wild with his animal friends, at one with nature. Subotai and Malak are thieves and cannot wear armor as it would interfere with their stealth. Deathstalker was a gladiator, and their armor is designed for show not functionality. You are no barbarian. You do not live with the animals. You are neither a thief nor a gladiator. So why, pray tell, such impractical armor?"

"You are very observant for a farm boy," she says.

"My father was a soldier before he was a farmer," says Shad, "He has taught me a great deal about the world at large."

"I see," says Sonja, "Very well. Tell me, Shad of the Akira, have you ever played Siege?"

"Of course," says Shad, "Who hasn't?"

"When you play, what do you pay closest attention to? Your cards? Or the other players?"

"Father says that a wise player will always pay attention to both."

"And your father would be right. But most gamblers would tell you to play the players, not the cards."

"I don't understand."

"You want to watch your fellow players and learn their tells. Their playing habits. Who likes to bluff? Who likes to play the cards that they're dealt? And if the do bluff, do they have any nervous habits that give them away?"

"So what does that have to do with you choosing to fight half naked?"

"The art of combat is a lot like a game of Siege," replies Sonja, "During a fight, a warrior will often have a tell which would reveal their next move. It's often seen in the positioning of his feet, or perhaps how he holds his weapon. If you can get your opponent to look elsewhere though, like at the cleavage of a woman's bosom for example, then he would fail to see the attack coming."

"So it's a diversion," says Shad.

"Exactly."

"And if his attention is not diverted?"

"Then you had best be a much better swordsman than he is."

"How much farther to the village?" asks Conan.

"If we continue the pace we've been traveling," says Shad, "then we should arrive by midday, the day after tomorrow."

"Did you not say that the Juns have scouts watching your village?" asks Dar.

"That's true," replies the farmer, "They do."

"Then perhaps we should not be riding into the village with two dozen dead Juns in broad daylight," suggests Subotai.

"The rest of you stay back for half a day," says Dar, "I'll ride ahead. I can flank the scouts and take them by surprise. Then I will meet you in Akir."

"Would you like some help?" asks Subotai, "The stealthy approach is the thief's bread and butter."

"Thank you," replies the Beastmaster, "But I'll be okay. I'll have all the help I'll need." And then, as if to accentuate the point, Ruh lets out a mighty roar. Subotai just laughs and nods his head in agreement.

The eight companions settle down for the night, with The Beastmaster's animal friends keeping watch. At some point during the night, everyone is woken up by the sound of Deathstalker screaming in pain. Everyone draws their weapons in preparation for an attack. Then they see what the gladiator is screaming about and have to struggle to hide their amusement. Deathstalker is kneeling next to Sonja's bedroll, his loincloth pulled down to his knees. The red haired warrior has grabbed hold of his testes and is squeezing with all of her considerable strength. The expression on her face is most certainly not one of amusement. "If you ever try that again," she says through clenched teeth, "you can be sure to kiss these goodbye." Deathstalker simply grimaces in pain and says nothing. "Understand?" she says, as she squeezes harder.

"Yes!" croaks Deathstalker, amazed that she can squeeze his privates still harder, "I understand!"

The red haired she-devil releases Deathstalker's manhood, and the large blonde warrior crawls back to his own bedroll, pulling his loincloth back up as he goes. "That goes for the rest of you as well!" she says to the entire group, "I am under a vow! No man may have me unless he can defeat me in a fair fight! Ever!"

"So in order for a man to lay with you, he must first try to kill you?" says Conan.

"Yes."

"That's logical," he says with a shrug.

"Funny," says Sonja, "Kalidor said almost the exact same thing when I had first told him of my vow."

"Did he take you up on your offer?l asks Madmartigan.

"As a matter of fact, yes," she replies.

"Was that the brave and foolish act which brought about his death?" asks Subotai.

"No," says Sonja, "That came later. When we fought our duel, he fought me to a draw. He is the only man to have ever done so, before or since."

"Did you not want him to win?" asks Shad.

"A part of me did," she admits, "But I cannot lose the fight on purpose. It must be an honest victory, or it means nothing, no matter how I may feel. Still, I nearly let him kiss me without first earning it in battle."

"Why would you make such a vow?" asks Beastmaster.

"When I was seventeen, Queen Gedren wanted me as her personal consort. I refused, but she would not take no for an answer. So I scarred her face. In response she had her soldiers murder my family, burn my home, and then take turns raping me. They left me for dead. But as a laid on the ground, watching my home burn, the red goddess Scathach, Goddess of Warfare and Martial Skills, came to me. She granted me the strength, stamina, and skill to get me revenge, but at a price."

"Your vow," says Madmartigan soberly.

"Aye," she says, "Should ever I break my vow, the gifts that the goddess had bestowed upon me that night would be gone forever. I would never again be the warrior that I am now. That I have fought so hard to become."

"You have my sympathy," says Dar, "And my respect."

"Mine too," says Madmartigan.

"And mine," says Subotai.

"I am not generally one for sympathy," says Conan, "But you do have my respect." Malak nods his head in agreement.

"I didn't know about what happened to you," says Deathstalker, "I'm sorry. I never should have tried to bed you the way I did. You have my respect as well."

"Thank you," says Sonja, "All of you."

"And if we both survive this little adventure," says the former gladiator, "I think I just might take you up on that challenge."

"If we both survive," says Sonja, "I just might let you live when you do."

With that they all laugh and then go back to sleep. In the morning, Dar rides off with Ruh and Sharak following close behind. The others wait to give him a head start. They pass the time by continuing Shad's education with martial weapons. As they now had a collection of Jun weapons to choose from, Shad is now able to learn to fight with sword and ax as well as with a trident. They still start him off with the wooden practice swords that Madmartigan had prepared for him, but now he also has a steel blade to get used to wielding. When the sun reaches its peak, that is when they break camp and head out. They travel at a brisk, but not frantic pace, so as to give Dar time to get far enough ahead of them to deal with the Jun scouts before they arrive.

Far ahead, the Beastmaster is pushing his mount and animal companions as hard as he dares to. He is fully aware that if he fails to intercept the scouts before they can report to Karak, then their time to prepare an adequate defense for the village of Akir will be desperately short. He pushes his mount as hard as he can without being cruel. They travel throughout the day, taking minimal rests for food and water. They make camp for the night as the sun begins to touch the horizon. Dar sends Sharak to scout ahead. As the eagle can cover far more ground from the air than Dar and Ruh ever could on foot, this makes him the perfect scout. Dar uses his telepathic connection to see through the eagle's eyes. He sees the village of Akir. It vaguely reminds him of his home village of Emur, except Emur at least had a wooden wall to help protect it. The Akira don't even have that much, which will make defending the village that much more difficult. Sharak continues to scout the area and soon finds the campsite of the Jun scouts. There are three of them north west of the village. Their location provides them with a clear view of the village without giving away their own location. Dar would likely not have even spotted them had he been searching from the ground. Fortunately the gifts of his birth make such problems no issue at all. The Beastmaster settles in to get some sleep. He awakens before dawn. He sends his horse back to rejoin the others, and then takes off through the untamed wilderness, Ruh running right alongside him.

The Beastmaster runs through the thick forest as swiftly and silently as a deer. He paces himself, so as to stay strong for the fight which is sure to come. But at the same time he rarely stops, or even slows down to catch his breath, and as such manages to close the distance between him and the Jun scouts in short order. That evening, as the sun is setting in the west, the Jun scouts are preparing for supper. One of them had caught and skinned a rabbit and was roasting it over their campfire. One of the Juns, Tembo, is watching the village with his Eagle's Eye.

"Get over here and eat your share of this rabbit before I eat it myself!" Dako calls over to him.

"You know we were sent here to watch the village," replies Tembo.

"It's not like it's gonna up and leave while you eat dinner," says Kalo, "Might as well enjoy some fresh meat while it's available. The village will still be there when you're done."

Tembo takes a moment to consider this. There has been no unusual activity in the village since the son of the village leader had left on an apparent fishing trip over a week ago. When he didn't come back after more than a few days, they had reported it to Karak, who had likely sent out a hunting party to make sure he wasn't planning anything foolish, like asking the king for help again. They had been eating mostly jerked meat, and he had to admit that the roasting rabbit did smell good. After only another moments hesitation, the Jun scout sets down his Eagle's Eye and joins his two companions. As Tembo reaches for one of the rabbit's hind legs, he hears a low growling coming from the bushes.

"Dako," he says, "I hope that was your stomach."

As if in answer, there is another growl, this one louder than the last. The three Juns turn towards the sound, and there in the bushes are a pair of feline eyes staring back at them, reflecting the light of their campfire. Tembo turns and reaches for his crossbow, only to discover a pair of ferrets scurrying away with the crossbow bolt. He turns back just in time to see Ruh pounce on him from the bushes. The tiger sinks his teeth into the Jun's throat while raking him with his claws.

Kalo and Dako jump to their feet, reaching for their swords. As Kalo's blade is only about halfway out of its scabbard, he hears an eagle screech, causing him to look up. Sharak swoops down and begins clawing and pecking at Kalo's face. The Jun drops his sword to the ground as he raises his hands in a desperate yet futile attempt to protect himself from the bird of prey.

Dako gets his weapon clear of its scabbard, a scalloped edged great-sword custom made for one of his size. He stands there stunned, unsure as to whether to attack the tiger or the eagle. Then the Beastmaster steps from the bushes, sword in hand, and his mind is made up. He attacks Dar with a great overhead swing. Dar ducks under the attack and counters with a thrust of his own sword. Much quicker than he appears, the Jun manages to get his huge weapon down to parry, and then counters with a great sweeping attack of his own.

Once more Dar dodges out of the way, this time countering with a slash aimed for his opponent's shoulder. Again Dako manages to parry the attack, and then counters with another downward strike aimed at Dar's head. The Beastmaster sidesteps the attack, and then thrusts his blade at the Jun's exposed belly. He scores a hit, but only a minor one as the Jun steps out of reach before the blade could sink in too far.

The Jun warrior advances again, making large sweeping attacks with his enormous sword. Dar keeps out of reach of that wicked blade, for a single hit could easily cut him in two. He backs up to the trunk of a huge oak tree. Dako bellows a battle cry and tries to cut Dar in half at the waist. The Beastmaster leaps over the blade, diving into a forward somersault, as the Jun's great-sword sinks deep into the trunk of the oak tree and gets stuck. Before the huge barbarian can free his trapped blade, Dar gets in close and runs him through the chest with his sword.

Dar pulls his sword free from the big man's chest, and the Jun collapses on the ground, dead. The Beastmaster turns to see how his companions have fared. Tembo lays dead on the ground, his throat and belly torn open. Kalo is still alive. However there are now two bloody holes where his eyes used to be. The Jun is staggering around with one hand out in front of him, trying to find his way by feel. Dar walks up to him and slashes him across the chest, from right shoulder to left hip. The blinded Jun falls to the ground to join his brethren in death.

Dar cleans his blade on the Jun's cloak, and then goes about gathering the bodies and weapons and loading them onto the scouts' horses. Ruh comes up to the Beastmaster, his muzzle and paws still slick with fresh blood, and nuzzles him affectionately. Dar gives the great cat a grateful scratch behind the ear. Then he gathers up Kodo and Podo, mounts one of the horses, and heads down towards the village.

Hours later, Dar is entering the village of Akir at about the same time as Shad, Conan, Sonja, and the others. They meet up in the center of town. The streets are completely deserted. Not a single villager has come out to greet them, nor even poked their head out of their doors.

"Hail the conquering heroes," says Sonja with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry," says Shad, "They must be afraid."

"Afraid of us?" asks Madmartigan.

"You have to understand," explains Shad, "That the people here have scarcely ever seen a warrior, let alone battle. My father is the only one with any true knowledge of the ways of violence and war. And he was not born here. He settled here after his days in the military."

"That's a pleasant thought," says Deathstalker.

"Come on out!" Shad calls out to the village, "Why do you hide? I have brought these people here to save us! To save you all! And this is how you greet them?"

Shad's father, Kaylar, limps from his home, leaning heavily on a wooden staff. "You are right, my son." to Conan he says, "Forgive us. We have lived in fear for so long, we have almost forgotten that there are indeed good men still in the world." Then Kaylar turns to the village and calls out, "Come on people! Do not be frightened! These are our honored guests! And we shall treat them as such!"

In response to this, the people of Akir come out of their homes and greet the seven mercenaries. Men and women shake their hands and pat them on the back, thanking them repeatedly as though they had already won the battle. Conan walks with Shad and Kaylar as they head towards Kaylar's house.

"I see you've already slain some of the Juns," says the old man, "This is good. Fewer of them for us to fight when they eventually come. How many did you kill?"

"Twenty four," replies Shad.

"Twenty seven," Dar corrects him as he steps in line behind them, "Their three scouts won't be reporting on our presence here."

"Good," says Conan, "That should buy us enough time to ready our defenses."

"There's not enough time to build a wall," says the Beastmaster, "Not even a wooden one. Even with the whole village pitching in it would take weeks."

"That's why we won't build a wall," says Conan, "We're going to dig a trench instead."

"A trench?" says Shad, confused.

"Aye," says the Cimmerian, "All the way around the village. We will pile the dirt up on the outer edge, so that when you stand in the trench, the wall of dirt will come up to your shoulder."

"The Juns are horsemen," says the young farmer, "They'll be able to jump that barrier easily."

"Not if we set stakes in it," says Dar, "Long ones, pointing outwards. Any horses that try to jump the dirt mound will impale themselves. And those who do manage to get past the stakes will be outnumbered and surrounded by the Akira."

"A fine plan," agrees Kaylar, "But the Akira are not warriors. They have no training. No weapons."

"We will handle their training," says The Beastmaster.

"And the Juns have already provided you with weapons," adds Conan.

"Besides Father," says Shad, "We have tools. Axes for chopping wood. Knives for butchering livestock. Spears for hunting game. Tridents for spearing fish. Even our shovels and hoes can be used as weapons."

"That's the spirit!" says Dar.

"I just hope it will be enough," says the old man.

"Shad says that the scouts information is at least a week old by the time their leader confronts you about it," says Conan, "Correct?"

"Yes," says the old man.

"Then the Juns' Hidden Fortress must be a three or four day ride up into the mountains. The scouts will likely not be counted as missing for several more days yet. That should give us a week, perhaps even two, to get you ready."

"Ready for what?" asks Shad.

"War," replies Dar.

Outside the Akira have opened up their hearts and their homes to the mercenaries. They bring them as much food as they can spare, even more than they can spare. Deathstalker eats heartily, while Red Sonja and Madmartigan are more reserved. A little girl of about ten years of age, and a little boy who is about half that stand and stare at Malak as he's eating. The thief gives them a questioning look and shrugs his shoulders as if to say "What?" Finally the children approach. "Are you a warrior?" asks the little girl. Malak nods his head affirmatively and smiles. "You don't look like a warrior." she says. Malak taps Subotai on the shoulder and signs a reply.

"He says, 'Does he not look like a warrior?'," the Hyrkanian translates.

"No," says the girl, "He looks like a raggedy-man."

Malak laughs and signs some more. "He wants to know what you think a warrior ought to look like," translates Subotai.

"Like him," says the girl, pointing at Madmartigan, "Or him," and she points at Deathstalker.

Malak signs a reply, which Subotai translates, "Because they look big and strong?" The little girl nods her head affirmatively. Malak signs another reply. "A true warrior finds that a strong mind and a strong spirit are more important than a strong body."

"Prove it!" says the girl as she crosses her arms defiantly.

Malak looks around to find a way to prove his boast, and sees a scarecrow leaning against the side of a house waiting to be repaired. Malak motions for her to watch. Then, while barely even looking at his target, Malak draws a dagger from his hip sheath and whips it into the center of the scarecrow's face. Then he takes out his other dagger from his other hip and hurls it dead center of the scarecrow's chest. Then he draws the twin knives from his wrist sheathes, twirls them about with his fingers, and then sends them spinning side by side through the air directly into the painted eyes of the scarecrow. Malak then draws the twin knives from the back of his belt and sends them flying one after the other into the scarecrow. The knife from his left hand sinks deep into the scarecrow's belly, while the other buries itself in the target's crotch. Malak then turns to the children and gives a bow. Then he opens his arms to them, as if to invite inspection, and gives them an expression which clearly says "Well? What do you think?"

The thief discovers he had developed quite the audience, as many more of the village children had come over to watch the demonstration of his knife throwing skills. All of the children applaud the display. All, that is, except for the little girl who had approached him in the first place. She just shrugs her shoulders. "Not bad. . . ." she says says in a very nonchalant manner, "For a raggedy-man."

Malak signs something to Subotai, who translates. "He wants to know what your name is, little girl."

"My name is Kura," she replies, "and this is my little brother Sawa."

"Well met Kura and Sawa of the Akira," says Subotai, "I am Subotai of Hyrkania, and this is my friend Malak, former Court Jester and personal bodyguard to Her Royal Highness, Queen Jhenna of Shadizar."

"Why doesn't he speak?" asks Kura as she points at Malak.

"Because he can't," replies Subotai, "He has no tongue. It was cut out!" he says, putting the emphasis on the last two words and adding a slashing motion with his finger to make it seem like Malak lost his tongue in battle rather than as punishment for performing cunnilingus on a young woman who was far above his station.

"Really?" says Kura.

Malak leans in close and opens his mouth wide so that the children can look inside and see that he has no tongue. Some of the children make faces as though they had just tasted something spoiled and look away, while others eyes light up and they gasp in astonishment. Malak then signs something to Subotai, which the Hyrkanian dutifully translates.

"He thinks you should be heading back to your parents now," says the archer, "And I agree."

Many of the children disperse, but Kura and Sawa stay behind. "We don't have parents," she explains, "Our father was killed by the Juns when they first came to steal our crops. Then they took our mother away to their Hidden Fortress."

"Oh," says Subotai, "We're very sorry."

Kura just shrugs her shoulders. "Sawa was just a baby at the time. He doesn't even really remember them. I do a little. But I'm starting to forget stuff."

Malak nods his head and then signs something to Subotai. "He says he understands," translates the archer, "He says he lost his parents when he was very young too."

Again the girl just shrugs her shoulders. "Well, goodnight Raggedy-Man!" and she leads her little brother away.

Malak signs something to Subotai, who shouts after the children, "He says his nanme is MALAK!"

"That's what I said!" Kura calls back, "Raggedy-Man!" and they run off giggling.

Malak couldn't help but smile. Subotai didn't know this, but the two children reminded him a great deal of his own brother and sister. He wasn't lying when he said that he was an orphan. He was the youngest of the three, and thus his brother and sister took care of him. And being only children, they needed to steal in order to survive, which is how Malak became a thief. His sister had always had a sarcastic wit, much like little Kura's. He made a silent prayer to Bel, God of Thieves, that they might return this little girl's mother to her once the Juns were child should be without a mother.