Legends of Belariath
Salina Kyle
The Warrior’s Dance Part Five
The blooming flowers of late summer became fall, the golden leaves of fall disappearing into the icy clutches of winter. We had moved to the winter grazing fields. My life filled with the happiness of friends and a loving master, who showed me his love in every glance and touch. I came to suspect Wise Talker knew what I was doing out in the deep woods. He would send me into the forest for different herbs or mushrooms, in the winter wanting wood from specific trees. I always found the Training Grounds on my search for what he wanted. No one noticed me in the bushes not far from them shadowing the warriors’ moves in training. My posture and bearing changed subtly, self-conscientiousness gave way to pride, confidence growing with my skill. My hearing increased to such a height I heard the tinniest sounds with complete clarity. My strength and balance, dexterity and coordination all became stronger. Slowly, those around me began to notice this slave who walked in silence and quiet power, yet, not even Lighting Hawk would have guessed why. When the warriors didn’t train, I would go into the forest to practice what I already knew. My body became firm, tone in ways I’d never thought of, almost muscled to a point I feared Lighting Hawk would surely notice. None of the warriors practiced as much as I did in my love of the Warrior’s Dance. My skills came quicker the more I practiced, punches, blocks, kicks all becoming more instinct the more I worked on them. The only thing I could have wished would be to share what I was doing with Lighting Hawk. It felt like a lie to lay with him and not tell him I had begun to think of myself as a warrior. In my heart, I hoped the day would come I could tell my master what I was doing, and share my joy of the Chawchee with the one I loved.
I had been with the Sheyka for a turn and a half. My warrior dance brought great pleasure with each new move. I did my chores and kept Lighting Hawk in clean clothing like any other slave. I managed to avoid trouble with Raging Boar keeping my eyes to the ground whenever he even looked in my direction. The Chief’s daughter talked with me every chance she got becoming a very dear friend even though I was a slave. The life of being a slave became fulfilling in the camp, thoughts of my life before being few to none. Even to the point I no longer thought in my native language. The Sheyka had become a part of my soul which I embraced without reserve. On this day, the warriors went out on a hunting trip. Lighting Hawk had stayed at the camp as guard. He worked on a spear and watched me as I worked. Looking up, I caught his eyes staring at me with love. A warm flush of nearly unbearable joy passed over me, my face flushing with feelings so strong it took my breath away.
“I can not imagine life without you, Flaming Spirit,” he said.
“Nor can I bare the thought of life without you, master,” I said, hanging up the clothes. “Luckily, we don’t have to worry about that. I would never willingly leave you, Lighting Hawk. I swear it.” He caught me in his arms kissing me in restrained passion. We felt alone at the stream, letting me kiss him with equal passionate love. Suddenly, my ears heard a giggling. We parted from our embrace to turn to the bushes.
“Dancing Brook,” I said, with a bit of a grin, “Come out of there, little chieftess.” She grinned from ear to ear in that mischievous way of one who liked getting into trouble.
“I told you, Flaming Spirit,” the child said, rocking on the balls of her feet, “You love Lighting Hawk, and he loves you.”
“You’re very wise, little chieftess,” Lighting Hawk said with a wicked grin. “I love Flaming Spirit with all my heart.” My face turned bright red in embarrassment mixed with deep joy. We all had a good laugh, his hand gently cupping my cheek.
“How can we help you, my little chieftess?” I asked. Her eyes sparkling, she grinned again in that way I should’ve known better then to ask her.
“Can I watch you kiss him from out here?” she asked. “Its so hard to see from the bushes.” I felt my face heat in consternation at the thought of letting a child her age watch us. Children weren’t allowed to have much exposure to something that was considered the domain of adults alone.
“When you’re older,” Lighting Hawk said in a firm voice.
“That’s what mother is always saying,” Dancing Brook complained, scuffing her low boots in the rocks. “I’m eleven turns.”
“You have only seven turns to go,” he said.
“Forever,” she sighed, then smiled, “I’m going to gather berries. Will you go with me, Flaming Spirit?” My eyes went to the warrior seeking his permission. Taking up the spear to work on again, he nodded his consent with a grin.
“I’d love to go, Dancing Brook,” I said, the final bits of laundry laid out to dry in the sun. “Let me get my gathering basket.” With a small shout of excitement, she ran into the bushes coming back with my basket in her hands. Her eager eyes smiled at me calling for an answering grin of friendship. I took up my basket, and turned to Lighting Hawk. Before I could say a word, he bent forward to kiss my cheek quite soundly.
“Be careful, Flaming Spirit,” he said, tapping my scars. “We know what kind of trouble the two of you get into.” Both of us girls blushed with that acknowledgment of our ‘trouble’ when we were alone. I hugged him then followed the child into the forest.
We walked for a short while till we came to the berry patch. Dancing Brook put more berries in her mouth then in her basket. Carefully, I picked around the thorns not putting even one in my mouth.
“Why don’t you eat the berries, Flaming Spirit?” she asked.
“I don’t like these berries,” I said.
“But why?” Sighing, my eyes went to her curious, juice stained face.
“My father and I were coming home from a business trip,” I said, taking a bit of a breath as the pain came back to me. “On the path, I saw a large patch of these berries, his favorite and mine. When I went to pick some, the warriors attacked. They killed my father… I remember eating berries as I gathered them. The bucket was full… I ran back to the wagon and saw the four warriors bending over my father’s dead body. I tried to run from them and the prickle bushes offered me a hiding place, but the sharp thorns cut me. Some blood got into my mouth and mingled with the taste of the berries. I haven’t been able to bare the taste of the berries since.” My hand wiped away a tear from an anguish of lost still sharp in my heart. The girl didn’t speak for several moments.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes down on her juice stained hands. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Catching her in my arms, I squeezed the Chief’s daughter to me in a way slaves weren’t suppose to but never stopped the two of us.
“You haven’t hurt me, little chieftess,” I said. “I must live with those that killed my father every day. I have forgiven the warriors… for the most part anyway. I am of the Sheyka now. That is the way of the warriors… If you keep eating like that, your mother is going to have to feed you Sheea leaves for your stomach.” Dancing Brook blushed at my chiding then stuffs some more berries into her eager mouth.
“I can handle berries,” she said, puffing out her chest.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I said, going back to work. Her eyes followed me as I worked taking note of the way I made no noise even in the dead leaves around us.
“You know what, Flaming Spirit?” the child asked.
“What, little chieftess?”
“You walk like a warrior.” That brought me up real fast in concern even though she didn’t seem to notice my sudden fear.
“What do you mean, Dancing Brook?” I asked, with caution. She grinned, mischievously thinking her tease as innocent in her ignorance. Setting her basket down, her hands went to her hips in that sassy way she had.
“You make no sound as you move through the bushes,” she said. “The only ones I know that can do that are warriors.”
“That’s silly,” I said, firmly, “You only have to watch where you step, and you wouldn’t make any noise when you walk.” She huffed a little as we went back to gathering berries.
“And you move like a warrior,” she said, glancing over at me. “I mean your body moves like theirs does… Like you can control every part of your body.”
“Dancing Brook, you’re being silly,” I said, not looking at her. “Next, you’re going to tell me I can fight like a warrior.”
“I don’t know,” she said, “Can you fight like a warrior?” Damn. She would ask the question that way as I fought desperately not to panic, which would reveal my deception. Trying to think of a way to answer her, without lying, movement caught my eye. My hand made a silence gesture she knew to obey. Two men came through the brush to stare at us, grins of dark pleasure on both their faces.
“Just like he said they would be,” one said. I could understand him but it took some concentration as his accent was strange.
“We’ll get a good price for the savage girl,” the other said, “If we can’t find her family, the other girl will fetch a good price too.”
“Of course, when we’re through with them.”
“Oh yes, I’ll be the first one with the savage,” his companion said. My heart froze in horror at the thought of these dogs touching my dear friend. Luckily, Dancing Brook didn’t understand their talk. I put myself between her and the men in a defense posture readying to fight. They began to creep forward as jackals stalking a weakened deer.
“Leave this place,” I growled in halting words. I could still speak my first tongue but I’d developed a Sheyka accent that surprised me somewhat.
“Its’ okay, sweetie,” said the fat man his balding head gleaming with sweat.
“Yes, we’re here to rescue you,” the burly man said. His callous hands rubbed together in anticipated pleasure. My ears picked up other movement in brush around us. Another man moved to my left and the last one crept to the right. These two watched for the moment making no attempt to move into the clearing.
“We’ll take you back to the civilized world,” the fat one said, smiling, “Don’t you want to go back to your family? To be with real people?”
“I- warn- you,” I growled. The one to my right had moved behind us. I had to act or risk being overpowered by their numbers. My basket went over the fat one’s head raining berries around his face. Dancing Brook’s basket caught the other one by surprise. Shoving the child down, I jumped over her, and attacked the man behind us. The fourth man came running out of the bushes toward the Sheyka girl. The Chief’s daughter screamed as she had a good set of lungs for such things. Quickly, I threw the man I grappled with at his friend.
“Run, Dancing Brook,” I yelled, “I’ll hold them.” Her eyes were wide in great fear as she ran from the clearing toward the camp. She knew the answer to her question of whether or not I could fight as a warrior. The other two men were out of their baskets and headed toward where I stood.
“I warned you,” I hissed in Sheyka. This being my first try at using the Chawchee in true combat I’d prove to myself I was a warrior. If I could take them down before the warriors got here, maybe the camp wouldn’t know. One of the men grabbed me by the wrist. While we grappled, I kicked another into a tree. Blood ran from his forehead and he looked unconscious. The one holding me went to the ground as I planted my foot in his throat. Growling, I sprang at the fat man.
“Those who rape children don’t deserve to live,” I growled. He couldn’t understand me, but my eyes told him what I meant. His sweaty, red cheeked, face drained of color. My fists went to his stomach and chest in sharp blows meant to steal his breath, my elbow to his back as he went down. The last man tried to flee from the scene of their defeat. Easily, I sprung like a deer over bushes to catch up with him.
“There is no escape,” I hissed. He begged me in fast frightened words of panic, but I didn’t hear him. Only the words of what he wanted to do with Dancing Brook came to my mind. My hand caught his arm in an iron grip that few men would be able to break. We struggled for several moments by the stream. Someone came running out of the forest, and skid to a stop. My mind concentrated on the enemy at hand as Gray Wolf often told his students. We moved back and forth, but I proved to be his superior in our dance. As the man sank to the ground, my eyes took in the warriors watching me. Their stunned eyes told me they had seen everything I’d done fighting as a fighter with the skills of a Sheyka warrior.