Disclaimers: See

“Ahhhhhhhhhhggghhhh.”

The heart wrenching scream was heard throughout the camp and people came running to see the cause and the animal from whose throat the cry had most certainly come. Gygr held the body of her friend, rocking and sobbing into the dead woman’s chest.

Quella kneeled beside the body of Tang Te and shook his head. “No. No. Can’t be. We were going to be merchants together.” The young man held his new friend to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Tang. Wake up Tang.”

Bris ordered guards to unchain the slaves and it didn’t take much to get them to begin the task. As chains were detached from raw ankles, newly freed men and women began ransacking quarters of soldiers and guards looking for clothes, boots, arms, anything of value.

Jerome and Kosta reached Gygr’s side and she pushed them away. “Stay away,” she hissed, “just stay away.” The men turned to the scene as newly freed slaves began attacking and beating their former guards. Bris alone tried to keep the growing mob from doing irreparable damage. The two men raced to his side pulling weapons from the few guards who still held them. They began threatening the former slaves who had also armed themselves. Armed conflict came to a sudden halt when Bris was felled by a angry former slave with a lucky thrust into the old gladiator’s side.

Gygr hearing the fighting had turned and saw the attack. She lifted the sword beside her and in a blind fury attacked the combatants. They backed away, too late for the seven whom she mortally sliced at. “Enough,” she yelled. The warrior stopped and gazed at the cowering men who stood before her. Slowly she faced former guards who now wore bruises, cuts and much less clothing.

Kosta approached her quietly making sure she saw him, “Bris is hurt. Jerome and I are taking him to Stamos.” He turned and helped the other man carry the old gladiator to the infirmary.

She nodded to the men. “Any more guards in the cave?”

 No one answered.

“I said are there any more guards in the cave?” She turned to a man and pointed her sword at him, “you. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Melatrone, my friends call me Tron. And yes there are a few dozen hiding back there.”

“Melatrone.” She nodded her head. “Melatrone have you ever used a sword before?”

“Yes I have. I was a soldier in Plydias’ army before Jauka slaughtered us in Limiam.”

“Good. You are now a lieutenant in my new army. Pick five men who know how to use weapons. They will be under you. Each of the five will be responsible for training one hundred men and women who will be under them.” She looked up into the new dawn of the east and returned her gaze at the man. “Understand?”

“Yes,” he stood at attention.

“Good. Next select twenty to go around removing the chains from . . . my army.” She stretched her neck and rotated her head until she heard the pop and felt the tension begin to dissipate. “Put them on any guards and soldiers you find and get them working in the mine.” She smiled as men and women began to crowd around her, “this mine now belongs to me.” Cheers immediately went up and people bustled to perform their duties.

Melatrone quickly chose five men who in turn began forming their own brigades. “Anything else, gen’rl?” He smiled at his new commander.

“Don’t call me that,” she frowned.

“What should we call you?”

“Gygr.” She turned then stopped. “Melatrone, be sure the soldiers at the banquet are taken care of as well.” She swung back to the man, “I want all weapons in front of the gold vault. Make sure our soldiers are the first to get properly fitting shoes and clothes. Then come see me in Lumor’s office.” She turned again and continued to the cave.

Inside nearly thirty former guards faced her, swords in their hands. “You have a choice.” She slowly looked into each man’s face. “Die trying to get past me,” she smiled wickedly, “which I can guarantee. Or live serving me in this mine with the hope that you can one day be free again.” The warrior stood waiting for a response. Several men dropped their weapons. Others looked back and forth between their comrades and the warrior before making the decision. Four men immediately attacked. They were too easy. Gygr was angry and wanted to fight a real fight against opponents who could at least give her a battle for her life or come close to it.

Two men had lost their heads the other two knelt in agony holding that weakness that men saw as their strength. They had been pathetic. Gygr snarled and turned away as the rest of the guards dropped their weapons and stepped back. She quietly sliced the thoats of the two as they knelt before her.

Outside in the fresh clean air the warrior breathed deeply. Both Emilie and Tang's bodies had been moved. Kosta approached her warily and nodded, “can I do anything Gygr.”

She looked at him, eyes searching for a memory. Who is this? Then. Emilie’s friend. She placed her shaking hand on his shoulder and spoke to him softly.

Stamos finished the last stitch and cut the end with a sharp knife when she entered the room. “He’ll be fine with some rest.” He stood before the woman and dropped his head. “I’m sor . . . bout . . .” His tears and sobs overwhelmed him.

The warrior squeezed his shoulder, “I know. I’ll miss her.” It had taken every ounce of strength to control herself. Her stomach was a mass of knots that seemed to get tighter as the day wore on. Inside her head conflicting thoughts rose and fell only to rise again later. Kill them all now. Torture them to death. I know how. I can make them last weeks in absolute agony. She shook her head. Emilie wouldn’t want that. She was like Bina, kind, gentle. One of those people who could always see the light in the darkest soul. No Emilie and Bina wouldn’t want that.

The man gathered his control and smiled at the woman in front of him. “What do you intend to do? With us, I mean?” He held out his hands palms up.

“Starting an army. Gonna destroy Jauka and everything he owns,” she hissed then turned on her heal and left the suddenly confining room.

“Gygr,” Melatrone stood at the door to Lumor’s office, now her office, and she motioned him in. “Got the soldiers and guards in the tunnels working their little fingers to the bone. Most got heavy heads from all the wine.”

“Sit down Lieutenant.” She watched as the man sat carefully in the chair before her. “How many former slaves are there?”

“Can’t give you an exact number right now, but about eight, nine hundred. Not counting the children.”

“How many children?”

“‘Bout fifty. They don’t last too long here.” The man dropped his head for a moment the lifted his chin and looked straight into the eyes of his new commander.

“How many do you think would fit into an army. Recognizing they would have to be trained, of course,” she pressed her lips together.

“You mean of the eight, nine hundred?”

“Yes.”

“Once they start eating right and getting strength back I’d say most, if not all.” The man scooted his chair closer to the desk and leaned toward the warrior, “they all want to be part of the army. All of them folks lost a good part of their lives and some all of it. You’ll have a hard time trying to keep any of them from joining you.”

She leaned back into her chair and played with the dagger in her hand. “Good.” Gygr stood and paced the room. “I want enough people here to keep the mine going. I want everyone to start eating whenever they get hungry. Set up what you need to keep food ready at all times. Start people exercising to gain stamina and strength.” She stopped pacing and returned to the window behind the desk. "Prepare a funeral pyre for tonight. For two.” She turned back to her lieutenant. “Tomorrow we begin training.” She returned to the window and the man silently retreated from the office.

It had been a long day. Gygr stood before the pyre and watched as the bodies of Emilie and Tang Te were laid on top of it. Gods Emilie I should have told you how much I cared for you. Around her every former slave stood quietly. Many cried, those who had known Emilie in Nicopolis and those who had begun to know her gentleness and kindness in this gods forsaken place. Several like Stamos, Jerome and Kosta were inconsolable.

Melatrone and her army stood in newly cleaned and polished uniforms that had belonged to the soldiers of Jauka’s army. Brass glistened and eyes faced front, some a bit more watery than others. At Gygr’s nod Melatrone marched forward and passed his Commander a torch. Slowly she stepped toward the pyre and laid the torch first against one corner, then another. The oil soaked wood smoked and burst into flame.

Tang my old friend. Goodbye.

Gygr stood before the fire watching the flames flicker and play around the wrapped remains, before fully engulfing them, taking two spirits into the darkened sky above them all.

It was late. Well past sunset when she returned to the cave. Now every soldier and guard were chained in pairs sitting truculently at the very back. Two thick posts had been driven into the earth in the center of the rear area and two guards were chained with theri backs to them, arms high above their heads. Their clothes had been removed and Gygr approached the ever present dagger in her hand easily rolled over and under the fingers of her left hand.

She stood before one, the younger man whom she remembered had taken great pains to make her life miserable. He’d found fault with anything she did and demanded satisfaction from her as punishment. The warrior looked down, noticed the shaking of his member and immediately stepped to the side just as his urine puddled several paces away. Gygr smiled, “relieved?”

The man licked his lips. “Yeah.”

“I’m so glad,” she grabbed the organ and pulled it from his body, quickly severing it with the knife. The man screamed in agony, his body convulsing. “Then you won’t need it anymore,” the piece was casually tossed into the puddle he’d made and she turned to the next man who was struggling against the chains.

“Gygr,” a voice behind her made the warrior turn. Lumor stood in his torn tunic, “I’m the one at fault here. They were merely following orders.”

“Ah, following orders.” She approached the man and looked down into his calm gray eyes. “Your orders?”

“Ngano’s orders, but I gave him the authority. So, yes my orders by extension.” He swallowed, “I wasn’t aware of what he was going to do, Gygr.”

The woman pressed the dagger beneath his chin and blood began to trickle over the blade and down onto her hand. “The difference between you and me, Lumor, is, I don’t give those kinds of orders. I do it myself. I take responsibility for whatever abominable actions I take. That way everyone knows who is to blame. And that way I can’t hide my intentions. They are very clear.”

“Gygr,”

“Shut up,” she hissed. “She’s dead. Because of you, she’s dead.” The woman turned and paced, “she never hurt anyone.” Her face darkened in anger, hands clenching, the bloodied knife and hands sweeping in the air before her as she fought inside her mind. “Bina was kind and sweet.”

“Bina?”

“EMILIE,” the name echoed, “Emilie was a gentle person. And,” she took one step, “she,” another step, “is,” another, “DEAD.” Gygr swung her arm across Lumor’s chest inflicting a deep gash. She abruptly turned and retreated from the cavern as quickly as she could this side of running.

Tron approached his commander as she exited the cave, “no one goes in for any reason,” she snapped, “not even to give them food or water.”

“Yes Gygr.” He stood straight then moved away.

For the next four weeks Gygr, Melatrone and several others who’d had military training spent hours whipping their new charges into shape. Everyone was eager. Everyone wanted to please the warrior. A fortnight after the rebellion the small team arrived to take the monthly shipment of gold to Port Misery for transfer to Creanistri and Jauka’s treasury. Another seven were added to the tunnel diggers. Only Gygr entered the cavern dropping waterskins and bundles of food every couple of days. She’d released the one still live man from the post the following day and tended to Lumor’s chest wound. Puddle Maker had bled to death and his body was left to remind and assure the rest she had no qualms about killing.

Gygr was pleased with the five Melatrone had chosen as his subordinates and especially Gustav and Haodal whom she made lieutenants as well. The three worked together planning training sessions and suggesting to their commander some ways to get the new recruits some added experience.

“What would be the point of patrols?” Secretly Gygr thought it an excellent idea, but wanted to know how the minds of her lieutenants worked.

“First,” Haodal held up his thumb, “they would get experience riding for more than a few hours. Let’s face it, until you’ve been in the saddle more than a day you really haven’t become used to the idea of being in an army.”

“And,” Melatrone added, “you really have to get your body used to the, uh . . .”

“Saddle sores,” Gustav added quickly glancing at the nodding Tron.

“Right.” Tron continued, “we have to get people used to sleeping out and hunting for their own food. Let’s face it we’re not going to always have the luxury of having food stored for our use.”

Gustav cleared his throat, “the whole thing is everyone is anxious to do something other than train. They all know the training is necessary, but to be honest Gygr,” he looked into the deep blue eyes, “they want to feel like they can use what you’ve taught them. They want to show you they believe in you.” He dropped his eyes a moment then lifted them again, “they want you to know they trust you and you can trust them to die for you if necessary. We all want that.”

The crash of a fist on the desk brought all eyes up to hers, “damn I don’t want people dying for me. I want them dying for themselves.” She rose so quickly the chair fell onto the floor, “this isn’t some game.” She paced the room, “I don’t want martyrs. I want people who will kill. People who want blood. People who hate Jauka as much as I do.” She brushed her face with her hands and turned to the frightened men, “go ahead with the patrols. Teach them to hunt. That’s something they can use after all this is over.” She reached behind the desk and righted the chair. “I want two hundred ready for a raid next week. Melatrone and Gustav will choose them carefully. Haodal you continue with the training and find fifty people to keep the mine going once we get this thing started.”

She turned to the window and the men knew they were dismissed.

The warrior heard the tap on the door, “come.” She sat and smiled as Quella and Bris entered the room. “How are you Bris?” She rose and hugged her old friend.

“Great Gygr. Just fine.” He moved his arms around and twisted his body, “see no problems.” The men sat. “How are you Little One?”

She smiled briefly then her eyes darkened, “better. It’s been a little difficult.” She glanced at the young man sitting beside her friend, “how are you Quella?”

“Uh, okay. I miss him, you know?”

The woman nodded. “Yeah, I know. So do I.” Her eyes moved to the dagger that always seemed to be in her hands lately. Wonder what happened to Cristov’s dagger.

“Quella is going to Copus tomorrow morning. A shipment of leather has arrived from Panadol and uh . . “

“Uh, we, uh, thought . . “

“Would you please spit it out.” The woman raised her brows. “Gods you’d think you were going to ask me to breed Hannibal.”

Two sets of eyes flashed into hers, “No,” the shocked voices were in unison.

“Gygr, with the gold from the mine I thought . .”

“Actually it was my idea. I thought, uh. .  .”

“What?” The reverberations alone made the two men shiver.

“We’ll getl you uniforms for your new army.”

“And weapons, those will be here next week,” Quella quickly added.

There was silence for a long time. She slowly leaned back into the chair and gathered her wits, “yeah they could use new stuff. Something that at least fits.” She rose and looked out the window. Below were the men and women of her new army struggling to learn new skills so they would not disappoint their new leader. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m sure they’ll really like that.” She sat again and faced the two men. “Take whatever you need out of the vault and be sure to include a nice profit,” she smiled.

“Gygr,” Quella dropped his eyes. “I’d be in your army, but . . .”

“Quella I don’t need you in my army. I need you to be a merchant for my army. We’ll need arms, horses, food, boots, everything and I’ll expect you and Bris to get them for me. Money is no object, as you well know.” She turned to her old friend, “and I know it’s time for you to move on as well.”

“Never Little One. As always, I am yours to command.”

“You are always needed.” She rose and rested her hands on the man’s shoulders. “I . . .” she swallowed with great difficulty, “I love you Bris. And I was so . . I . . don’t want to lose you too.”

“Little One you can never loose me. I am always here for you.” The man smiled and rose to hug his young friend. “Jauka does not know what black storm his people began here,” he gently kissed the woman’s cheek, “but he will.”

Two hundred five followed Gygr into the Dorian desert. The plans were in every soldiers minds and those of the men and women they had chosen to lead divisions of 20. Haodal, Gustav and Yoshi, a woman who had impressed Gygr as a more than competent soldier, were now Captains. Tron was a major and the new captains had lieutenants leading the divisions. It was looking and feeling more like an army, to the pleasure of those many who had actually been a part of one.

Gygr had listened to these men, especially Tron, since she’d had no experience in a military. Her troops found, however, their leader picked it up quickly and it wasn’t soon before everyone called her Commander and she accepted it as her rank and status in their eyes. Bris had instilled in her the need the troops had for a leader. A true leader. One worthy of them. And Gygr did not disappoint. Some of the troops pitched in to pay for a uniform worthy of their Commander and the woman wore it proudly. Quella had insisted the best leathers and brass be used and sent to Alaistria for the one man every soldier had sworn was the best at making efficient, lasting, comfortable battle wear. Somehow the young merchant had located the warrior's sword and daggers. He actually blushed when he watched her open the cloth wrapping revealing her treasured weapons.

Hannibal, eager to get out with his mistress, ate up the leagues beneath his strong legs. The sight of Gygr in black and glistening brass upon a white stallion was something Dorians would tell stories about for generations to come. None of that mattered to the former gladiator. Her thoughts were on the plan. The conquest of Doria and beyond. But first Doria.

The citizens of Copus had heard of the uprising at Number One and rushed to find favor with the new warlord there. Gygr had Bris and Gustav handle them. The mine continued pulling out gold, at a much slower pace with less than 150 working it. Quella had used some of it for arms and other supplies the army would need. Everything, of course, had to be smuggled in under the guise as being something else. No one in Port Misery seemed to notice the sudden influx of plows and seed. Quella thanked the gods every time he got out of town with his ever growing caravan. Nor did the Port Misery authorities notice the sudden proliferation of new tattoos on the arms of many men and women. Gygr had offered a prize to anyone who could come up with an idea of how to remove the numbers. It was a young woman, Jiliana, who came up with using them as the basis for geometrical patterns that would obviscate them.

It was Gustav who discovered close to fifty of the former slaves were seamen and suggested they scout out a good place for a secret harbor. Gygr approved and Gustav organized three divisions that would be solely responsible for that duty, each led by someone with sea experience to make sure the future port would indeed qualify as a future port.

The commander had paced the entire night going over her plans for this expedition. It would be their first foray against Jauka and she wanted everything to go right. The new army had surprise on their side. Because of the desolation of Doria it was difficult to maintain a reliable system of communication between the mines. What scouts and personnel had arrived at Number One were immediately disarmed and sent to the tunnels. But there weren’t that many. Gygr had worried the failure of the gold to arrive at Port Misery may have sent warning signals to those in charge, but nothing happened. No one came to find out what happened. No soldiers. Nothing.

The army stopped at one of only two lakes in Doria. “This lake have a name?”

“Not that I’m aware of, commander.” Tron replied.

“Now it’s Tang Te Lake.” She dismounted Hannibal and handed the reins to Jerome who was now responsible for the horses of her army. “See that the map maker notes that.” Gygr had found all kinds of talent in the mines. Map makers, tailors, armorers, smiths, wranglers, seamen, farmers, falconers, boatwrights, soldiers, gladiators, scribes, bards, and even a former treasury official who had been accused of stealing from Jauka.

A hunting party of thirty immediately set out to find fresh game that would be added to the rations each soldier carried. Gygr wanted every member of her army to be responsible for his or her own food although the hunting party would always try to provide fresh meat. She’d discovered first hand the need to be able to feed oneself. Gygr didn’t consider herself much of a cook, and neither did anyone who ate what she did cook. She was, however, an excellent hunter and in an effort to assure her people could take care of themselves had assigned every soldier to a hunting party. At every stop, and even while they traveled, a party or two were out gathering edibles or hunting fresh game.

While Gygr led Captains Yoshi and Haodal to Number Four in southeast Doria, Major Tron with Captain Gustav and Lieutenants Zozo and Jason were moving on Fok to capture the town. All captured military personnel would be sent to Number One and a small force would move on to Kolosek in the northeast then to Llang, which was south. Gygr wanted to control eastern Doria completely before moving against the main forces which were barracked in Port Misery and Doak.

Number Four was 92 leagues from Tang Te Lake and Gygr wanted to be there within a fortnight. She hoped not to make the mistakes Jauka did and had the falconers train birds as messengers. It took a bit of effort, but half a dozen of the birds had been trained to go from the lake to Number One. The Commander had instructed Quella to purchase young pigeons in Alaistria and hire someone to train them in Doria. That had just gotten underway when Gygr and her troops left Number One.

The army spent the night on the north side of  the lake and Gygr left a force of twenty to build and maintain an outpost there. The men and women would be responsible for setting up a small permanent camp that would be the first of a series of fortifications in Doria manned and protected by Gygr’s army. Again, not wanting to make the same mistakes as Jauka, the warrior would set up small and large installations around Doria to protect its citizens and her interests, the gold.

Gygr practiced each morning with her officers, encouraging them, teaching them, challenging them. Each evening after the camp settled into sleep she would retreat to a quiet place and practice on her own until exhaustion overtook her. It was easier than thinking about the mistakes that led to the death of two people she ultimately realized she’d loved very much. That’s what love gets you. You can’t function. Never again. Never again.

Periodically she would send a party ostensibly to hunt with instructions to ambush the lead scouts. In this way she kept her army on the alert and from becoming bored with the long journey.

The training paid off in the attack on Number Four. There were no casualties in Gygr’s army and the several who were foolish enough to fight back at Number Four died quickly. Yoshi and fifty soldiers were responsible for the closing of Number Four and transfer of the prisoners and the former slaves to Number One.

The capture of both Number Three and Number Five went as easily as that of Number four. Slaves at Number Three hailed the gladiator as a messiah, their savior. When some fool kneeled before the warrior and kissed her boots she nearly kicked him in the teeth. It took every ounce of composure for the woman not to strangle the idiot.

Within two weeks the army had advanced on Tillymoss and Pilon and taken both those towns. The citizens were torn between the freedoms Gygr offered and the fear Jauka’s men had instilled in them over the years. Within six weeks Gygr and her forces had returned to Number One.

Three hundred seventy prisoners were set to work in the tunnels. Nearly four thousand former slaves, were either being trained as new complements of the army, or given new roles to build and maintain the infrastructure of the new country Gygr was building.

And the army had a name. They were called The Destroyers by some and The Liberators by others. One would know immediately where a person’s loyalties lay when they heard Gygr and her army call one or the other. Gygr didn’t care what she was called. It was old news.

Both Bris and Quella noted the subtle changes in their friend when she returned from the campaign. She’d lost weight and seemed to stop taking care of herself. The warrior would go days without bathing, her temper grew short and she would spend hours, then days alone in the desert only to return and challenge several tunnel diggers to a fight. The men would eagerly accept the weapons and attack the woman who fought them, usually four or five at a time, with such ferocity and obvious hate. None survived. Several begged for death only to find the warrior turn her back on them and leave forcing their comrades to do the humane thing.

“You smell.”

Gygr looked up from her boots as she sat, back against a boulder, staring into the fire she’d made. The warrior had not heard the women approach. “What?”

Yoshi, Jiliana and another young woman approached careful to stay in the light, arms slightly away from their body, so the warrior could see they were unarmed and no threat. “I said, you smell.” Yoshi smiled and sat across from Gygr on the other side of the fire.

“Then go where you won’t smell me.” The woman tapped the stick she held against the dirt and drew a circle.

“Battle plans,” Yoshi had been joined by Jiliana and a young woman Gygr did not recognize. “Or just squiggles in the dirt.”

“What do you want Yoshi?” Gygr scattered the dirt with the stick erasing the drawing.

“Nothing really. Just wanted to see how you are.”

“Fine. Now go away.”

“Uh,” the girl Gygr didn’t recognize lowered her head and smiled, “actually we wanted to discuss something we think important.”

“What?” Gygr recognized the voice she’d heard first at Number Four.

They were stupid and outclassed even by men and women who’d only held a sword for less than two months. Gygr had allowed her troops the honor of fighting Jauka’s men at Number Four and had only leaped from Hannibal’s back when their opponents had been subdued.

The warrior was eager for a confrontation and smiled when she saw Belum. Gygr approached the man as the sea of people parted before her. “Well, well what have we here?” The man was even fatter than she remembered. “Aren’t you that pig soldier Jauka seems to admire so much he sent you to this hole to rot?” The warrior quickly grabbed the man's neck and squeezed. “Now I’m in charge.”

A light voice floated from behind her, “if you kill him then you’ve only proven you are no better than he is. What will that accomplish?”

Gygr quickly turned to find where the voice had come from and only saw a sea of concerned faces. She released Belum, mounted Hannibal and rode from the mine not returning until the following morning.

The smile was open and crinkled around her eyes. “Mishal.” She nodded at the warrior. “Nice to meet you.”

Despite herself Gygr chuckled. “Yeah, so what was so important you had to invade my privacy to discuss with me.”

“No, we really didn’t want to invade your privacy,” Mishal stood, “we’ll come see you tomorrow if that would be better for you.” Yoshi and Jiliana also rose and began to turn away.

“No, no. You’re here now. Sit down and tell me what’s so important.” Gygr tossed the stick into the fire and stood. “Please,” she added quickly. “I, uh, please,” she held out her hand motioning the three to sit. “So what’s this important matter,” Gygr settled against the rock and smiled.

“Well, uh,” Yoshi began.

“You see,” Jiliana continued, “there is someone in camp who is really having a difficult time handling some of the things that have happened since we took over Number One.”

“And we thought, since this person is responsible for so many of our lives, we should try to get, uh, this person out of the perpetual bad mood this person seems to be in.” Mishal added. Gods the Commander is so beautiful up close. “And when this person is upset everyone is upset.”

“So, one of the officers is in a bad mood and you think I should do, what?”

“Huh, well,” Yoshi looked to Jiliana who looked to Mishal who looked at Gygr.

“Maybe make it someone’s job to help get this person out of the bad mood?” Gosh that sounds lame.

Gygr tried to think of her officers and who they could be referring to. Haodal? Nah, he’s having a great time training. Just met that woman, what’s her name? Helga. Yeah Helga’s taking care of Haodal. Gustav. Well, he’s been a little quiet lately. Tron. He seems to spend way too much time training. Yoshi? Can’t be her, she’s one of the concerned ones. Jason? Zozo? “So you want me to get someone to buddy up with this officer to make his life, and everyone else’s, easier. Right?”

The women looked at each other and nodded then,turned to the warrior and said in unison, “right.”

“So what if he doesn’t want a buddy?” Gygr stretched her legs to the side of the fire and crossed her ankles.

“Can’t you make it an order,” Jiliana blurted.

This is enough. “You can’t order people to make friends.”

The three women across the fire sat back in defeat. “You’re right, of course.” Mishal tried to smile. “We were so concerned I guess we just,” her voice broke and tears began to fall onto full cheeks. Quickly the young woman rose and ran toward Number One.

“Thanks,” Yoshi and Jiliana rose. “She, uh, really likes this person,” Yoshi, looked at her feet and kicked a pebble toward the fire, “she’s one of those people that carries the pain of everyone she cares for inside her. Sorry to have bothered you Commander.” The two women turned and quietly left hand in hand.

Definitely not Yoshi.

Gygr covered the fire with dirt and water from the skin she’d brought with her and returned to her office. A pallet had been placed across from the desk and she used this as her quarters as well. Gustav had discovered Aldo, a man of many talents, among the former slaves of Number One. The man  seemed able to do anything. While Gygr had been on the campaign Aldo had installed a large wooden tub in the corner of the office. He’d settled a large cistern of water onto the roof which would catch and holdtthe rain. The man had cleverly routed the water through piping, which Kosta forged, behind the fireplace allowing the water be heated before it entered the tub. At the bottom was a plug that when removed allowed the dirty water to drain through another pipe. Nearly a month had passed since the taking of Number Four but Gygr had yet to use the facility.

When she entered her office/quarters she knew immediately someone had been there. The fire was a dead giveaway, of course. Then there was the bowl of stew, still hot, on the desk and the linens and soap on a chair by the tub. Gods. Gygr slumped into the chair behind the desk and slowly began to eat the stew. Then, bowl in hand, she crossed to the tub and pulled the handle that released water into the large oval container. Hot water hitting cold air sent steam into the room and the warrior found herself eager to get clean again. Quickly she undressed and settled into the hot water holding the bowl carefully until she could lean back and relax. She took her time with the stew and surprised herself by wanting more.

The warrior pick up the soap and smelled it. Smells like, what? Flowers? Emilie would love this. Tears escaped the woman’s blue eyes and traveled slowly down tanned cheeks into the bath water. Gygr leaned her head against the tub and allowed the tears to fall. Didn’t protect you very well did I? The woman’s body convulsed and she began sobbing into her hands. Gods. She had not heard the door open or see the small form quietly enter the room.

Mishal silently closed the door and set another bowl on the desk. The sudden sobbing startled her. She stood not moving hearing sobs escape from a constricted throat. The young woman quietly approached the tub and knelt beside it. She hurts so badly. Tears came to her own eyes and she unconsciously reached and brushed red hair from a furrowed brow. Strong arms immediately surrounded her and the warrior cried into a soft, accessible shoulder. “That’s all right. Just cry.” The girl held the woman and brushed her hair with slightly shaking fingers.

The sobs began to subside and Mishal helped the woman rise from the tub, dried her with a large linen and slipped the nightshirt over her head. The latter by standing on a chair so she could reach. The warrior allowed everything with no reaction. I don’t think her mind is here. “Now sit on the bed,” Mishal led the woman to the pallet and retrieved the bowl from the desk. “Eat this, Gygr.” The woman did as she was told and finished the stew. “Here’s something to drink.” Mishal gently pushed the mug into the warrior’s hand and watched as she drank the potion Bris had put together to help his friend sleep. “Now just lay down and close your eyes.” And the warrior did.

Mishal stayed beside the woman brushing fingers through the growing red hair, feeling her forehead for fever, stroking the strong arm when the warrior became restless. The girl noticed the room grow brighter as the sun rose outside. Quietly she rose and slipped out the door.

“How is she?” Yoshi had stood guard all night to make sure her Commander was not bothered.

“Sleeping.”

“Thanks Mish.” Yoshi gently squeezed the girl’s shoulder.

“Let me know when she wakes up. I’ll get her something to eat.”

“Right.”

Gygr’s eyes fluttered open and she stretched her arms over her head at the same time extending her long legs as far as they could go. “Gods.” She blinked and quickly rose from the pallet bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Gods I feel good.” Quickly she removed the sleep shirt wondering why she didn’t remember putting it on. Or going to sleep, or getting out of the tub. She knelt beside the still full container and removed the pug at the bottom allowing the now cold water to empty. The pipes Aldo installed would send the water into a garden some of ner new soldiers had started with seeds Quella brought from Alaistria.

The warrior pulled on a tunic and washed in the small bowl Nellis sculpted from a rock. Aldo installed pipes that would trickle water into the bowl so Gygr could wash her hands and face. She felt her hair and decided to dunk her head and wash that as well. There was a soft knock at the door while she dried her hair with a linen. “Come.”

A young woman entered with a bowl and mug, placing them on the Commander’s desk. Mishal. Yeah. From last night at the fire.

“Thought you’d like something to eat,” she said softly then returned to the door.

“Uh, sorry about last night.” Gygr sat at the desk and began eating the stew.

“Last night,” the light eyes flashed.

“Yeah.” Did she remember? “You know, about the officer who is in a perpetual bad mood?”

“Uh. Oh. Yes, well.” Mishal gathered her senses, “you were right. But I think everything will work out.” She swallowed and made a small smile.

“Right.” Gygr continued eating until the bowl was empty.

“Want more?”

“Nah.” The warrior drank from the mug and smiled. “Goat milk!”

Mishal’s face and neck reddened. “Yeah it’s pretty common knowledge you hate porridge and love goat milk.” She retrieved the empty mug and bowl and slipped out the door.

“Common knowledge?” Gygr lifted one brow.
 
 

Copyright 1999 by  Frances Spinella
All Rights Reserved.

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