Vivian had been standing in the center of the tent practicing, the curved blade of her katana moving in swift clean arcs, the area around her prudently vacated by the women who shared the tent with her. At the sound of that well modulated voice, however, she paused and looked up. All of the other women were clustered at the tent's entrance gazing adoringly at the speaker.
It was, inevitably, the fop, Ferdinand de Larasaynth, who was standing there, his rapier in one hand and a delicately scented handkerchief held lazily in the other. Some of the more simple minded women in the tent nearly swooned, and Vivian could have sworn that one of them actually tittered. It was embarrassing.
With a quick shake of her head, Vivian went back to her practice.
She was a standout among the women in the tent in several ways.
Her hair, though as black as theirs, was neither as long nor as elegantly coiffed. While the other women in the tent were dark, with dusky skin, Vivian's skin was pale. Instead of the profusion of sheer silken colors worn by the others, she was dressed in boots and well worn gray leathers. And she had never simpered in her life.
De Larasaynth took a step forward to put himself as near to the tent's entrance as he could without actually crossing the outer boundary line marked on the ground. The two guards standing beside the boundary line ignored him completely.
"Be calm in the face of approaching danger, my poppets!" he cried, striking a valiant pose. "I shall see that you come to no harm!"
At the word "danger," Vivian's ears perked up. She slipped her sword into the sheath and moved toward the fop. It was likely that de Larasaynth was simply preening, setting himself up to be adored, or that he had been startled by something completely harmless, but Vivian fervently hoped not. Maybe something interesting was going to happen on this trip after all.
She circled around de Larasaynth's crowd of admirers and asked, "What is it?"
He eyed her in that patronizing manner that made it so easy for her to dislike him. At two inches over six feet, he was almost five inches taller than she was and could look down his nose at her in a particularly irritating manner. And he did. Often.
"Do not be troubled, my poppet," he said suavely, "but I have detected the scent of danger on the wind."
Vivian frowned, but a gasp ran through the crowd around her.
"Now, now, ladies!" Ferdinand smiled gently at his admirers. "Worry not. No hurt shall befall you while I yet live!"
"What exactly does danger smell like?" Vivian asked sweetly.
De Larasaynth frowned at her, not sure how seriously to take her question. "It has a bitter scent," he finally said, waving the perfumed handkerchief in front of his nose delicately. "Brigands, I'm sure. I have no doubt that--"
A distant scream sent a ripple of anxiety through the crowd. De Larasaynth held the hand with the handkerchief up to his ear and then nodded. "It is as I foretold. Remain here and be calm! I shall take care of this!" He darted off in the direction of the scream.
Vivian's tentmates scattered, moving rapidly away from the entrance, but Vivian remained there, her eyes continually scanning the visible landscape.
She could see the other tents and several of the caravan wagons. She could see armed men running toward the fight, and she could hear the sound of metal clanging on metal. She was longing to use her sword for more than practice, but the two guards at the tent's entrance hadn't budged an inch, and she knew they would never let her out of the tent except at the express summons of the prince. One of the more annoying customs these people had.
The battle was moving closer, though, and that was causing the guards some anxiety. The women's tent was not far from the tent of the prince himself, and the guards were beginning to get concerned for their ruler's safety.
At that moment the battle surged into view.
"Forest raiders," Vivian said softly, drawing her sword without even thinking about it.
The prince himself came stumbling out of his tent waving a scimitar and shouting to his men. Both of the guards left the women's tent to join the battle at their prince's call.
Vivian watched for a few minutes, but it became clear that the prince's men were getting the worst of it, and the tide of battle was surging ever closer to the prince. With an oath, Vivian finally ran out of the tent to join the fray.
By the time she drew near, three of the prince's own bodyguard had been killed and an axe wielding raider was running straight for the prince, who had frozen, his sword dropping from his nerveless fingers.
Vivian's thrown dagger caught the raider in the throat, and he fell at the prince's feet. Vivian reached the prince before anyone else did and stood guard over him. The battle surged around her and time slowed down the way it always did for her during a fight. After it was over, she had no idea how long the battle had lasted, but there were seven corpses piled around her feet, the prince was unmarked, and her arms were very tired.
The cleanup was performed with remarkable swiftness. The prince objected strongly to the sight and smell of blood, so the mess was wiped away as rapidly as possible, and it was a scant hour after the fight was over that everyone was sitting down at sumptuously laden tables and preparing to share a meal.
After everyone was seated and the first course was nearly finished, the prince rose to his feet and the sound of conversation immediately stopped.
"I wish," he said, indicating Vivian with his wineglass, "to publicly acknowledge my debt of gratitude to the valiant and skillful Vivian. It is entirely due to her courage and ability that I am here to address all of you now."
A ripple of applause worked it's way around the table.
"By my count, she saved my life seven times during the battle. Therefore, in accordance with our custom, she is hereby presented with seven thousand pieces of gold."
At a gesture from the prince, a richly robed and bearded servant stepped forward and handed Vivian a small pouch. Startled, Vivian opened it and looked inside to see the afternoon sun glinting off of seven brilliantly cut stones.
The prince smiled apologetically. "Were we in my land at this time, I could have presented you with the coins as custom dictates, but these gems are easily worth a thousand pieces of gold each. I hope that is satisfactory?"
Vivian blinked rapidly several times. The gemstones in her hands could easily have purchased her father's entire holding five times over at least.
"It's fine," she said. Then, realizing that she might sound less than gracious, added, "It's wonderful, your highness. Thank you very much."
The prince, who had been watching her somewhat anxiously, relaxed and smiled. "It is your due," he said, with a handsome bow. Then he raised his glass in a toast to her name.
The prince continued to stand, smiling, while everyone drank, and then he said, "In order to save my life, this woman left the women's tent without being expressly summoned. The penalty for that action is death. Therefore, she will be summarily executed upon the completion of the meal. Tell the servers to bring out the next course."
The prince sat down and resumed eating, a cherubic smile on his face. Vivian, seated near him, froze, her spoon raised halfway to her mouth.
"Excuse me?" she said.
The prince looked at her in surprise. "Surely you knew the penalty?" he said. "It's in the scrolls, and you've been traveling with us for three weeks now. I must tell you, by the way, that you have done a wonderful job training my guards. Some of them are beginning to show real skill. You have more than earned your pay, and I'll shall be sorry to lose you."
"Executed?" Vivian asked, putting down her spoon. "Right after lunch?" She pushed her chair back from the table very carefully.
"Of course. We're not barbarians. We never execute or arrest people during mealtimes. That would be against all custom." The prince took a spoonful from the bowl a servant set in front of him. "This soup is truly excellent! In any event, the agreement under which you joined us specifically states that you will be provided with meals, so we can't execute you until you've finished, can we?"
Vivian rose to her feet, looking carefully around. Several of the diners looked at her in astonishment.
"Surely you are going to finish your meal!" the prince said.
"No. I don't think so."
"Ah." The prince rose and bowed gracefully to her. "That is, of course, your privilege. You will return to the women's tent and await the executioners there, then?"
"Yes..." Vivian said slowly. "Of course I will."
"I have enjoyed our conversation immensely," the prince said, ever courteous. "And thank you very much for saving my life."
"You're welcome," Vivian said, still slowly, as if she were wondering which of them were crazy. Then, keeping a careful eye on everyone around her, she slowly made her way to the women's tent. Once inside, she quickly gathered up her possessions.
Every few seconds she glanced out and toward the tables, but everyone was still eating, some of them casting reproachful glances her way as if to comment on her shockingly rude behavior in leaving the table early. Two of the prince's men were coming toward the tent, presumably to take up the task of guarding the entrance now that one of the women was inside.
As soon as her gear was packed, Vivian drew her sword and sliced an opening in the back of the tent and slipped out. The trees were only fifty or sixty yards away, and she covered the distance quickly and slipped into the thick foliage.
Later, Vivian could never say how long she walked. She seemed to be a little dazed. After a time, she came upon a small hill that jutted out of the trees and climbed it, concealing herself in the long grass at the hill's crown. In the distance she could still see the clearing where the camp had been set up when the caravan had stopped for the day. As she stared at it, Vivian tried desperately to figure out what to do next.
For the last few weeks, the caravan had been moving slowly through the Great Wood that stretched between Farfell Down and the City of Bones, stopping one day out of every two or three. Even so, they had covered quite a bit of ground. Still, Vivian could reach either of the two cities on her own by following the main trade road. But that would also make her considerably easier to find if the prince's men came looking for her.
Came looking for her! She had saved the prince's life seven times and they were going to kill her for leaving the women's tent without permission to do it! What was wrong with those people?! Were they so bound by custom that they absolutely had to follow it's dictates no matter what happened?!
But maybe they were just going to let her go. She had gotten out of the camp easily enough. Perhaps they weren't even going to look for her. Maybe that would be some kind of reward for saving the prince.
Even if they left her unmolested, though, she had no food and no water, nothing she could use for hunting. And she wasn't very good at hunting anyway.
"I could live off berries..." she said quietly. "If I can figure out which ones won't kill me...or I could fish...if I can find a stream and...if I had something to fish with..."
In the distance, she heard the muddy tone of a gong sounding. That was the official end of lunch. She'd know soon enough what was going to happen.
Soon enough turned out to be very soon indeed. It was only moments after the gong sounded that Vivian spotted the fop and several of the prince's guards moving quietly among the trees in the distance. The couldn't arrest her during lunch, but that hadn't stopped them from looking for her during lunch.
Vivian's face hardened. A moment ago she had been a little scared and a little confused, and she hadn't liked either feeling at all. Well, she'd been hoping for something to happen. She had to admit that she'd gotten her wish.
She carefully noted the location of the men and then slipped quietly down the hill. The next several hours were very unpleasant ones for Vivian, slipping through the woods, dodging pursuers, but she escaped being spotted and she also escaped having to kill any of the prince's men. She was still hoping that this bizarre situation would resolve itself somehow. What she really needed was information, and she had already decided how to get that.
She spotted the fop before he spotted her. He was leaning against a tree and fanning himself lazily with his scented handkerchief. His rapier was resting uselessly in its sheath. He became aware of Vivian's presence when he felt the cold edge of a blade pressing upward beneath his chin. His eyes widened and he jumped, nearly slitting his own throat.
"Ah," he said after a moment. There was something about Vivian's smile that he didn't quite like. "I've found you at last."
"Have you?" she asked drily. "How lucky for me."
"Um...yes." He opened and closed his mouth several times, but the air of aristocratic boredom that usually surrounded him seemed to have deserted him. "I...uh...I suppose this must be difficult for you, eh my pop--" He felt the increase in pressure as Vivian pushed a little harder and trailed off without finishing the word.
"Difficult doesn't begin to sum it up," Vivian said quietly.
"You know that there are men combing the woods for you."
"Yes," Vivian agreed. "And I seem to have caught one of them."
"Oh, no...I mean...I say...I mean...well, surely you don't think that I was looking for you?"
"The thought had crossed my mind," she replied. "But I suppose you're going to tell me that you were just on a nature walk?"
"Um...well, I mean, of course I was looking for you, but for your sake, not for their's."
"Because you're entranced by my natural beauty, I suppose?"
He laughed slightly as if not certain whether it was the right thing to do. "I mean to help you," he said.
"How?" She shook her head. "No, why?"
"Well, we're of a kind, you and I. I mean, we're not like those heathen that we're traveling with, are we? We must stick together. Support each other. I suppose you're finding their customs rather difficult to live with?" He jumped as she pushed slightly on the blade. "I say, would you mind not doing that? It is rather painful."
She had jammed the edge of her sword under his chin and held it pressed high against his throat. Because he was taller than she was, this meant that her arm was at a slightly awkward angle, but not so awkward as the angle he was having to hold his head at in order to both keep it on his shoulders and see her face.
When she didn't reply to his request, he continued talking. "I've traveled with them several times, and they are rather hide-bound with respect to these customs. They follow them no matter what."
"So I've noticed," Vivian said drily. "That's why we're meeting like this, after all."
"Um...yes. Well, since breaking a custom got you into this...um...predicament, I felt that it would be suitably ironic if another custom got you out of it."
Vivian frowned. "What custom?"
De Larasaynth frowned. "You really don't know? Didn't you read the scrolls?"
"There are twenty-three of them," Vivian said.
De Larasaynth raised one eyebrow. "I say, traveling in this caravan without familiarizing yourself with all of the customs wasn't the brightest..." He broke off as Vivian pressed hard enough to draw a line of blood across his throat, "Is totally understandable, as I was saying," de Larasaynth amended hastily. "But that's why you don't know that what you should do is to attack the prince."
"What?!" Vivian yelped, then she looked around hastily, but they were still alone.
"You see," the fop explained, if you attack the prince and then spare his life when you could have killed him, he must grant you a gift. And you could request your life as that gift."
Vivian stood for a long moment. She didn't know if he was telling her the truth or not. There might be some kind of reward for bringing her in. On the other hand, she knew that she was better than any of the Prince's guards, and she knew their routines. It shouldn't be too difficult for her to slip into the camp. She looked up at de Larasaynth and nodded.
"All right," she said. "I'll try it."
"Splendid! Now, do you think that you could take your sword away from my throat?"
Vivian frowned at him. "I don't entirely trust you," she said.
"Oh, now, really!" he protested.
"It's nothing personal," she assured him. "I just don't like you very much. You're going to have to stay with me. We'll sneak into the camp together after dark."
"But--"
"That way, if you try any tricks, I'll be close enough to slit your throat before they can get me."
"Ah. Yes, well...um...eminently sensible, I'm sure. But, there is still some time before dark. Do you propose that we spend the entire time like this?"
Vivian shook her head. "Of course not," she said. "I'm going to tie you up and gag you. No offense."
"None taken, I'm sure."
The time passed slowly for Vivian, but it was eventually late enough for her to proceed. She untied de Larasaynth who rose and stretched his cramped limbs, then the two of them headed through the trees toward the clearing where the caravan was still camped.
Vivian was careful to keep de Larasaynth from getting behind her and to keep him close enough to her that she could get to him if she had to.
She had to admit that de Larasaynth, for all his annoying qualities, was good at moving through the undergrowth quietly. Better than she was, in fact.
Together, they crept up to the edge of the clearing. Vivian had only been hired to train the guards in swordsmanship, so she hadn't said anything about their watch patterns or sentry placement, but she had noticed them.
"Remember," she whispered to de Larasaynth. "Even if you're out of sword's reach, I can still get you with a dagger."
"You needn't keep reminding me of that," he assured her. "Are we ready?"
"Let's go."
They moved forward from the darkness of the trees and into the clearing. Vivian had timed it so that most of the caravan would be asleep. It was past their customary bedtime.
She and the fop had to take care of three guards between them before they made it to the back of the prince's tent. Vivian was very careful not to kill or seriously damage any of the guards. She wasn't sure what the customary punishment for that might be, but she was sure that she didn't want to find out.
The back of the tent was unguarded, as she had known it would be. For some reason, it never occurred to the guards that you could enter a tent without using the opening that was intended for that purpose.
Vivian sliced an opening in the tent's back wall. She let the fop go in first and then very quickly followed him. Embers glowing in a small brazier shed enough light that they could make their way across the richly appointed interior without bumping into anything. The prince's recumbent form was visible on a pile of cushions. Vivian moved quietly up the bed and laid the edge of a knife against the prince's throat. The prince woke up with a start but was wise enough not to make a sound.
"Good evening," Vivian said quietly.
"Vivian?" the prince asked, smiling. She could see the gleam of his teeth clearly. "I'm delighted to see you again. Not that I can see you well in this light, but you know what I mean. How are you?"
"I've been better," she said drily. "You do realize that I could kill you now?"
"Of course."
"And if I don't - if I spare your life - you'll owe me a gift, right?"
The prince's smile disappeared. "No," he said. "That is not one of our customs. Where ever did you get such an idea?"
Even as she heard the noise behind her, Vivian moved. She rolled backwards away from the prince, one hand reaching for the hilt of her sword even as her body began to move. She felt a breath of wind as de Larasaynth's rapier darted through the space that she had just vacated.
"Goodness, you're quick!" de Larasaynth complained as he moved toward her.
Vivian rolled to her feet, her katana in hand. She had, unfortunately, dropped her dagger while getting out of the way of de Larasaynth's thrust. She said something which was short and to the point.
"Now, now," de Larasaynth chided gently. "There's no need to be coarse. I expected better from a member the delicate sex."
"And you'll get it," Vivian promised him grimly.
The prince sat up and lit a lantern so that he could better see the entertainment. A moment later, drawn both by the light and the sounds of combat, three of the prince's guards rushed into the tent with drawn weapons.
"It is a duel," the prince told them. The guards sheathed their weapons and looked on with interest.
"They won't interfere," de Larasaynth told Vivian as the two circled around each other.
"Of course not," the prince said. "That would be against all custom."
Vivian rushed forward. The fop was probably stronger than she was, but her blade was heavier, and that should help offset any strength difference. A flurry of moves too rapid for the prince's untrained eye to follow drew appreciative comments from the watching guards, all of whom had been Vivian's students.
The edge of Vivian's sword sliced through something as the fop danced backward, but she drew a stream of gold instead of blood. She had cut open de Larasaynth's money pouch.
"Excellent!" the prince said. "I'll gather that up after the fight."
De Larasaynth froze for an instant and gaped at the prince. Vivian darted forward and drew first blood.
"Any money spilled in the presence of the crown customarily becomes the property of the royal family," the prince said.
The pain of his wound drew de Larasaynth's attention back to the fight. With an inarticulate cry of rage he darted past his spilled money and charged Vivian. One of the guards, who'd tried this sort of thing on her himself once, nudged his companions.
Vivian spun neatly out of the way, her sword a swirling flicker that opened de Larasaynth's bicep, causing him to drop his sword. Vivian moved forward for the final strike, but the prince suddenly yelled, "Hold!"
Vivian heard the sound of all three guard's drawing their weapons and turned so that she could see them, the prince and de Larasaynth all at the same time.
"There is blood on my carpet!" The prince was clearly livid. It was the first time that Vivian had seen him anything but smiling and affable. "Custom demands that you pay the full market value which a replacement would cost."
"How much?" Vivian asked.
"Two thousand pieces of gold."
Vivian reached into a belt pouch and pulled out two of the gemstones that she had been given for saving the prince's life and held them out.
"You are responsible only for half," the prince said, "as all that you did was shed the blood."
Vivian shrugged and then walked over and handed him one of the gemstones.
"And you," the prince continued, looked at de Larasaynth who was taking advantage of the lull in the fight to wrap a strip of cloth ripped from his tunic around the wound in his arm, "Are responsible for the other half."
"But, all of my money..." he said in dismay, pointing at the coins scattered on the carpet.
"That is a shame," the prince said.
"I saved your life," de Larasaynth said quickly. He nodded at Vivian. "She was going to kill you."
"But of course," the prince said. "Come here."
De Larasaynth walked to the prince's side, and the prince handed him the gemstone that Vivian had just given him. De Larasaynth looked at the finely cut stone glittering in his palm, and then the prince cleared his throat.
"You owe me one thousand gold pieces for the carpet," he said meaningfully.
Very slowly, de Larasaynth started to hand the stone back to the prince, then he said, "I don't want to be bound by that custom."
"Very well," the prince said. He smiled at Vivian. "I'm sorry that I had to interrupt your fight," he said. "You were doing quite well." He looked over at the guards. "You may kill her now."
"Wait!" Vivian yelped. "Wait a minute." She gestured at de Larasaynth with her sword. "You're letting him off just because he asked you to?"
"He said that he did not wish to be bound by that custom," the prince told her, puzzled by her confusion.
"So?"
"Did you not read the scrolls?" he asked.
"Not all of them," Vivian replied.
"If you had, then you would know that we never force foreigners to be bound by any of our customs if they do not wish to be. Did you not know this?"
"No."
"Ah." The prince smiled. "I wondered why you didn't opt out of being executed."
"Now I am," she said quickly.
"Very well." He glanced at the guards. "Don't kill her." He looked back at Vivian. "Would you like your old job back?"
"Yes. I think I would."
"Excellent."
"Oh, and I don't want to be bound by the custom of having to stay in the women's tent, all right?"
"Very well."
Vivian glanced at de Larasaynth. "You knew this the whole time. You got me to threaten the prince so that you could kill me. He'd think you had saved his life and he'd pay you for it. I was never going to kill him, and you knew it."
The prince looked at de Larasaynth. "Is this true?" he asked.
"Well...that is...I mean to say..." With a sigh, he handed back the gemstone which he'd gotten for saving the prince's life.
"Thank you," said the prince, his cherubic smile now back in place. "Well, now that this has been settled, you may all leave. I'd like to get back to sleep now. Custom dictates that we get up early in the morning, you know."
Bio:"I am a college biology teacher living in the southeastern US with my wife, one dog, and one cat, which is plenty of cats but several dogs too few. All in all, I think the universe is a lot sillier than we can possibly imagine, which won't stop me from trying."
E-mail: benedete@esn.net
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