The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1) (11 page)

Traevyn
hesitantly settled on the stool. He slid his legs out toward the warmth of the
blaze. “Were we?”

Ishar nodded.
She had apparently decided to ignore the argument he tried to start. “We were.
One of the reasons we were at war with the Lute for so long was misunderstood
differences. We refused to meet and work out our differences so a confrontation
that should have ended in a relatively short time lasted for generations.”

Traevyn
studied her. “So we should better understand each other,” he said slowly.

Ishar smiled.
“Exactly.”

Traevyn mused
over her words for a moment. He sighed and stared up at her. The tattoo on her
right cheek caught his attention and he frowned. The tattoo brought unpleasant
memories to mind, but they were in the past. Traevyn shoved them aside as he
continued. “I am only beginning to understand why you mark yourself,” he
started cautiously. “I take it has been a tradition among your people for a
long time?”

Ishar settled
herself more deeply into the pillows. “The Haaldyn who came to this island were
looking for a fresh start. From what our records tell us, they were a large
group who broke with recently arisen new leadership in our old homeland. These
people chose to take their chances at finding a new home rather than stay under
this new leader whom they felt was unjust. We come from a strong people who
have always been able warriors and merchants. We were also great boat builders.
My people crossed the deep water in their boats until they came to Alsaar. They
landed on the rocky north side and moved upwards into the mountains and
encountered no one. From what records say, the north of Alsaar was very much
like our original homeland. My people settled and made holdings, the largest of
which is Ayden, our chief stronghold and capital. And we continued to push
inward, coming to the mountains.” Ishar frowned, her fingers playing
subconsciously with her tunic. “It was after we passed through that terrain
that we encountered our first natives of Alsaar.”

Traevyn mused
over her words. “When did you encounter the Lute?” he asked. “It must have been
an interesting first meeting.”

She sighed.
“We had occupied the region for two years. And yes, to your second question, it
was disastrous. They appeared to us as such different people. My people saw the
Lute as barbaric, wild, and immoral creatures who worshiped the forests,
dressed in skins and painted their bodies. From a cultural standpoint, it was a
shock.” Ishar noticed her busy fingers and quickly smoothed the wool tunic
covering her thighs. “We had settled in the area but continued to grow. In a
decision to see what the rest of the island was like, we sent an exploration
party over the mountains. This group encountered a Lute party. Words were
useless. Hand signs were attempted but the situation quickly deteriorated.
Neither people knew what to make of each other. We were so different. Weapons
were drawn, and then blood.” Ishar shrugged. “Over the years the edge of the
mountains proved to be a hazy dividing ground, until my father and Wyn decided
to come together.”

Traevyn
stretched out his legs. “While we lived among the Lute we encountered Haaldyn
only occasionally, though they always proved to be an unyielding people.”

“And you
would not understand that motivation at all, would you, Traevyn?” She muttered
sarcastically.

He smiled and ignored the question. “Have your
women always been warriors?”

Ishar shook
her head. “No. When my people made the journey to this island, our women, under
the standards of our people, were simply mothers and daughters. When we arrived
and encountered the Lute, war ensued. My people were strong but few. The women
amongst them chose to stand with their men on the battlefield. Out of the years
of fighting, a tradition arose where women who chose to fight were elevated to
warrior status.”

“Which is
what the mark means?”
Traevyn asked, his brow wrinkled.

Ishar nodded.
“The tattoo has always stood for the mark of a warrior, even in our old
homeland. It is just that there, women would not have worn such a mark.”

Traevyn
raised an eyebrow. “They might have allowed their women the right also by now.”

“Doubtful,”
Ishar remarked dryly, “since that was one of the reasons my people left. The
new leader had imposed a stricter set of laws without consideration of the vote
of the high council, one of which regarded the status of women. It reduced
their rights to nothing, likened them to bought and sold cattle to be traded by
their fathers and husbands.”

Traevyn
looked at her with amusement. “I could not see you in that world.”

“Neither could
I,” she said, shuddering. “I have thought about it. I am very grateful for my
forefathers who chose this land as their new home. Perhaps even a little the
war with the Lute, since it raised the status of women even more among my
people.”

“And that status?”
Traevyn queried.

Ishar ran her
fingers over the smooth pillows as she spoke. “Women who attain warrior status
have equal rank with men. They can attend high council meetings and no father
may arrange a marriage for that daughter without her permission. Plus, these
women have equal standing with any man they meet, unless of course he outranks
her.”

“I am
surprised all of your women do not jump at the chance to be warriors.” Traevyn
commented with irony.

Ishar gave
him a wry glance. “Remember the reason my people sought a new land. Women among
my people have good standing as wives and daughters. Even though the law exists
among us that a father can arrange a marriage for his daughter, it rarely
happens. And if it does, the woman can petition her case before my father, as
can a wife who is mistreated by her husband. And though only a warrior can
enter a high council meeting and vote, woman usually have a way of letting
their men know their opinions.”

Traevyn
smiled. “I am glad to know some women are the same no matter where they are
born. Ber says Jaya lets her mind be known in subtle but indelible ways.” Ishar
laughed. Traevyn nodded and inquired, “But when did you make the decision to
become a warrior?”

“It is not a
quick decision,” Ishar said. “Do you know when we begin training?” Traevyn
shook his head “At seven. Children who feel a desire to be warriors begin
training at seven years of age.”

Traevyn sat
up straighter. “You have been a warrior since you were seven?” he asked,
stunned.

Ishar laughed
softly. “No. Children who feel that it is their chosen path to be warriors can
begin training when they are seven. A person may not take the mark of a warrior
till they are fourteen. That gives a person seven years to prepare before they
make their final decision.”

Traevyn stood
and stretched. He stepped forward and stirred the dying fire. “What if they
decide after those years that they do not wish to be a warrior?”

“Then they
chose to do something else with their life.”

Traevyn
turned and stared back. “And no one is upset with the lost years of training?”
he asked with surprise.

Ishar shook
her head. “We are grateful to know this fact now rather than have this person
to take the mark of warrior without the true dedication needed.” She shrugged.
“Besides, we have the knowledge that the people who make this decision are
still trained to defend and organize our people no matter what holding is
attacked if the warriors happen to be away. In fact, all of our people are required
to spend two years after the age of twelve in arms training.”

Traevyn
nodded. “I see the wisdom.” He sat back down. “So you began training when you
were seven and took the tattoo when you were fourteen? Were there ever any
doubts?”

“The answer
to the first question is no, I took the tattoo in my fourteenth year but when I
was still thirteen. It was the year the Tourna were coming and so there were
several of us who were allowed to take the mark of warrior status early. The
answer to the second question is also no; I never had doubts. This is what I
always wanted.” Ishar reached over and pulled her sword from its scabbard. She
ran her fingers lightly down the elaborate markings before glancing up at
Traevyn. “My father gave me this weapon on the eve of my seventeenth birthday.
I had just been given command of my very own warband. It is perfectly balanced
for my hand and has never failed me in battle.” She smiled faintly. “I cannot
explain the feeling of being in a conflict and moving with an utter confidence
of being, knowing I have the training required to face an opponent.”

Traevyn
watched Ishar’s face as she spoke. He nodded softly. “This I understand. I,
too, have felt the comfortable feeling and strength of having a sword in my
hand.” He drew his legs up and rested his elbows atop his knees. “What will you
do when this war is over and we still live? Will you be a warrior for the rest
of your life?”

Ishar drew
back. Her gaze turned thoughtful. “I really have not thought about it. Making
preparations for the coming war with the Tourna has occupied my thoughts for
many years.” She stirred her hand through the fur beneath the pillows. “I
suppose when this war is over I will still stand and defend Alsaar, help make
the peace last and grow stronger.”

“What of your
personal life?” Traevyn asked curiously. “Do you not long at some point to be a
wife and mother?”

She stood and
stared at him with uncertainty. Then she shrugged. “My mother chose to retire
from warrior status and marry my father. I understand her reasoning. She loved
him. She still does. But it is difficult for me to imagine another path.” Her
gaze was reflective as she continued. “I have been on this one for as long as I
can remember. I have never looked at a man the way my mother looks at my father.
It is not something I can imagine.” Ishar’s look was perplexed. It was as if
his questions were new and strange to her. “It just seems so selfish and so
final. The setting away of being a warrior and defending my people simply for
the love of a single man.” Ishar shook her head.

Traevyn was
bothered by her words but he chose not to dwell on them. “It is getting late,”
he said as he rose, “and I should be going.” Traevyn glanced back toward the
fire. “Do you wish me to stir the fire and add wood?”

Ishar looked
at the dying embers. “No,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I like the
cool night air. The fire is fine.” Ishar walked with Traevyn toward the door.
If she thought his abrupt leaving strange, she said nothing. “Thank you for
coming to check on me, and for the talk. Perhaps now sleep will come.”

Traevyn’s
black eyes flickered toward the bed piled with blankets and furs, disturbed by
the momentary image that flashed through his mind. He cleared his throat. “Yes.
It pleases me to see that our afternoon training match did no permanent harm.”

Ishar raised
and brushed her left fingers across his lips. “No more about the training
match, do you understand me?”

The movement
of her fingers across his mouth troubled Traevyn. He reached up and pulled her
hand down gently. “Of course,” he said as he stepped away and toward the door.
“No more. I promise you.”

“You know, it
is strange. Somehow we managed to spend the entire time talking about my people
but I have yet to learn about yours,” Ishar added with a dry note. “Do not
worry. I will not let you forget that I wish to know more of you and from where
these intriguing Raanan warriors I have come to admire in such a short time
come.”

He did not acknowledge the
question,
he simply reached past her and touched the latch. “Good night, Ishar,” he
muttered gruffly. Traevyn pulled open the door and started to step through.

Audris stood
by the outside with her hand raised in the process of knocking. She blinked as
she took in Traevyn’s presence. She looked past him toward Ishar. “Lady Eira
sent me to check on you and see that you were resting well.” Her gaze flickered
briefly to Traevyn.

Traevyn
stepped out into the hall. He nodded toward Audris. “I came to see how Ishar
was doing,” he answered her unsaid question.

Ishar smiled
at Audris. “Please let Eira know my arm does not pain me.”

Audris
brought up a cup in her hand. “Lady Eira sent me with this warm and fermented
paera to help you sleep. She asks that you drink at least some portion of it.”

Ishar nodded
and took the warm cup in her hands. “Give her my thanks, Audris.”

The young
woman gave a bow to Ishar and Traevyn and left with the slightest frown upon
her face. Ishar sighed.

Traevyn
looked at the cup. He pointed toward it. “She is right. That form of paera is
excellent for a good night’s rest. It does go down exceedingly well,” he added
with a grin.

Ishar flicked
a wary glance at Traevyn. He smiled and nodded encouragingly. Ishar took a tentative
sip. She frowned and took another. She threw him a perplexed look. “Perhaps she
gave me the wrong drink,” she asked puzzled, “It tastes very similar to what I
had this morning.”

Traevyn
laughed. “If you have never had fermented paera, I would suggest you go ahead
and rest before you finish it. It will make you feel warm and wonderful and
sleepy, especially if you are unused to it. I would suggest you only drink one
cup. Several more for a first time and you will regret it in the morning.”