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Chapter 13

The crowd assembled was small. Persius had Tarius's head and hands placed in wooden stocks. There was a small crowd gathered on the edge of the woods on the outskirts of town. Persius, Hellibolt, five of the king's personal guards, Tragon and Darian who had forced his daughter to come, thinking it would do her good to see Tarius punished for her crimes against her.

"Don't do this thing," Hellibolt whispered to the king. "Had Tarius not saved Tragon, had she not saved you, she would have lived a long life. Why make her regret these acts of selflessness?"

Persius wasn't listening. "Tie her to the horse," he ordered.

The guards tied Tarius to ropes already connected to an unbroken stallion.

Persius took the bow and an arrow from one of the men.

"No!" Jena cried. "Exile him, but don't hurt him!"

"Darian, quiet your daughter," Persius ordered.

Darian pulled Jena to him and put a hand over her mouth.

"So, Tarius, have you any last words?"

Tarius didn't hesitate. "Tragon, your own treachery shall bring about your death. You are a liar and a coward. I hope you die a slow and painful death at the hands of one you trust as much as I trusted in you. Jena. I'm sorry, Jena, for everything. I love you and only hope that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me. That one day you will think of me without hate."

Persius waited to make sure she was done and then he knocked the arrow. "Heed my warning, Persius," Tarius said with venom as her eyes met his. "I am not afraid to die, but if you mean to kill me, make it quick and clean. You have returned evil for good, and your punishment for that will come at the end of days. But if you shoot me with that arrow, make sure you kill me outright. Shoot me in the head or in the heart, because if you do not I will find a way to live. And if I live, I will make you pay for my pain a thousand times over. You will not get a decent night's sleep, nor shall you have even one moment's peace. Believe me, Persius, I shall see to it."

Persius smiled and let the arrow fly into Tarius's stomach. Jena screamed and hid her face in her father's chest.

"You mean like that, Tarius?" Persius laughed.

Tarius looked up at him with pain in her eyes. "Yes, precisely like that," Tarius said.

Persius nodded his head, and the man holding the horse released it as another beat a whip against the horse's rump. The horse took off at a high speed, dragging Tarius behind him.

"She'll only become the Katabull," Tragon protested with fear. "She'll get loose, and she'll come back for us."

"Interesting thing about the Katabull. If you pierce them with any wooden weapon they can't change form," Persius said. "Wood is toxic to their systems."

Tragon smiled.

Hellibolt watched the horse go and muttered an incantation under his breath. "Little horse thin and mean, make tracks that can not be seen." It was the best he could do on short notice.

Hellibolt walked over to Darian slowly and he held out his arms. "Let me see the girl, she's had quite a shock. I'll bring her to the surgeon."

Darian nodded and Hellibolt took Jena from him. She was like a lifeless doll. He helped her towards the castle. "They didn't kill her, you know."

"They want her to suffer," Jena cried.

"Yes, and because of their cruelty, Tarius will live," Hellibolt said. "I have foreseen it." It wasn't exactly true, but who cared about the truth when a lie might help the girl cope? Besides, with Tarius there was a very real chance that the desire to get even would give her the will to live.

"Tarius has told me that you are very wise. What should I do?"

"You should follow your heart, Jena," Hellibolt said quietly. "Go were it begs you to go, and do what it begs you to do. That was Tarius's only real crime."

Jena nodded. "I said terrible things to her. Terrible!" Jena said.

"Yes, well, that's the great thing about love. It allows one to forgive anything."

"Not anything," Jena said sadly.

"Yes, anything," Hellibolt insisted. "You'll see what I mean in time. Ah! Here we go."

Robert looked Jena over in silence. He suggested she lie down to rest for a while.

Hellibolt pulled him aside. "How is she?"
"In shock. The baby seems fine. I gave her some powders to calm her nerves . . . Is Tarius . . ."

"The king shot her through the stomach with an arrow, and is currently having her dragged around the countryside by an enthusiastic young stallion. If she lives, it will be a miracle," Hellibolt said quietly. "Of course, as we both know, miracles are Tarius's strong suit."

The surgeon nodded. "May I say something in the strictest of confidence?"

"Yes, you may."

"The king is an idiot," Robert said. "Man or woman, Tarius is a good person, wise beyond his . . . her years."

Hellibolt had a thought. "I put a spell on the horse so that it left no tracks. However, I could put another spell on a certain surgeon so that he could follow Tarius's exact route. With medical help, she just might have a chance."

Robert thought about it only a moment. "If you can make up an excuse for my absence from the castle for a few days, I will go. If I find her still alive, I will do all I can."

* * *

Harris had followed the activities at the castle carefully, always keeping himself and the horses in the shadows. He would obey Tarius's wishes to a point, however if he got a chance to save her he would take it. When he saw the horse run off with Tarius he took his cue and went after her.

He followed as closely as he could without being seen, but never losing sight of Tarius. When he was sure the others could no longer see either of them, he closed in. He rode up hard and fast drawing his sword, and after several tries he was able to cut Tarius loose. She rolled for several feet and landed against a tree. The horse took off in the other direction.

Harris immediately jumped from his mount and went to his friend's side. He rolled her over, took the stocks off her head and arms and cradled her head and shoulders against his chest. She was almost unconscious and so badly beaten and dirty that she was hardly recognizable. The arrow had been shorn off on both sides and only a splinter of it stuck out. Her breathing was raspy, but she was alive. He quickly got to his feet and picked her up. Reluctantly, he lay her over her horse's saddle and tied her on. It was the best he could do for now. The king's men would come hunting the body soon, and he had to get her out of there before they came. He rode on as quickly as he dared guiding her horse behind him.

At midday he decided he had put enough space between him and the king's men. He smiled when he thought how surprised they'd be to find the horse but not the king's prize. Gently, he took Tarius from the saddle. She was still alive, but barely, and the blood was dripping from her saddle. He carried her over and lay her on a stack of leaves. Then he carefully dribbled some water into her mouth. Just when he thought he'd failed, she swallowed it and then coughed. Harris tried to wash the wound, hoping to find the arrow shaft, but as soon as he was sure he had seen it the blood covered it again. At one point he got hold of it, but it slipped from his fingers.

"Why?" Tarius choked out.

Harris looked at her and smiled glad to see she was conscious. "Why what?" he asked.

"Why didn't you desert me?" she asked.

"Why would I desert you? Man or woman, you are my kin. You believed in me when no one else did. You showed me a kindness I had never known, and made me all that I am. So you're a woman. Does that make everything you did for me nothing? So you're the Katabull. Does that mean everything you have taught me is wrong? You are the best person I have ever known, Tarius. I know what it's like to be cast out because you are different, and if I could have hidden my difference, I would have, just as you did," Harris said.

"My one true friend," Tarius choked out. "I don't deserve your loyalty."

"You have many true friends, Tarius. And do you know why? Because you have helped everyone you ever touched. Even Jena. She'll see that in time. You taught her to be all that she wanted to be. You let her be herself when no one else would. Now be quiet. You're wasting your strength, and I'm having trouble getting hold of the shaft."

"Perhaps I could be of some help."

Harris swung around quickly, sword in hand. He looked up at the king's surgeon. "You . . . But how?"

"Hellibolt helped me," the surgeon said. "As you said, Tarius has many true friends. Now let's see what I can do. Why don't you go ahead and set up camp? We'll need a good fire and a tent for sure."

Harris nodded and went to work.

"Robert?" Tarius asked in disbelief.

"Yes." He knelt and started tending to her wound. "The king is a proud fool, Tarius. However, he is my king, and before I work on you I must ask you to make a promise."

Tarius nodded.

"Leave the kingdom; go back to the Kartik."
Tarius nodded. "There is nothing for me here now."

Robert had Harris lay out a blanket in the sun where he had the best light. He stripped Tarius of her clothes and covered her lower body with a blanket. He wondered fleetingly how much different Katabull anatomy was from that of humans. A bit late to worry about that now. He pursed his lips in determination and went to work. With a scalpel he cut the skin over the arrow shaft to give him enough room to work in, and then he gently took hold of the shaft with some pullers and teased it out. There was a nick in the bowel, which he cauterized. He'd never had much luck with the procedure before, but this time it seemed to work. He sewed up the entrance and exit wounds, then made a poultice and wrapped it to her body with gauze. Finally, he attended to the multitude of scratches and bumps she had all over her body, fortunately he found no broken bones, just deep bruises and shallow scratches. At some point in the procedure she'd passed out, and she was still out cold. Together, Harris and Robert picked up the corners of the blanket and carried her into the tent. Then they walked back outside and Harris handed Robert a cup of tea.

"Will she be all right?" Harris asked solemnly.

Robert shrugged. "I don't know. If she makes it through the night, that will be a good sign. I'll stay with you for a couple of days, and then I'll have to get back. Problem is that Hellibolt says that wood is almost like poison to the Katabull. No telling what effects it's going to have on her."

Harris nodded. "How long before she can travel?"

"She shouldn't travel for weeks, but that's not very logical. You'd better leave when I do. Persius isn't going to rest until he finds her body, and it will be obvious that someone cut her loose when they find the horse and the stocks," Robert said.

Harris nodded silently.

Robert laughed. "Really chaps their butts that a woman is a better fighter than all of them. That's really what this is all about, you know. That a woman outsmarted them. That she could out-think them. If she had just been Katabull, I think they would have seen that as forgivable, might even have just ignored it. It's the fact that she's a woman that pushed Persius and the others to do this to her. They want to establish that they can beat her. If she lives, I for one will be happy to have helped to prove them wrong."

* * *

Jena glared at Tragon where he sat at their dinner table—in Tarius's seat. They had been legally married, and he seemed to think that gave him a license to touch her whenever he liked. She made sure he knew it didn't.

"Jena, you're awfully quiet," Darian said.

How very bright of you, Father. It's only taken you three days to realize that I'm not talking to either of you. You could make me marry him, but you can't make me love him. You can't even make me like him.

"Are you all right, Jena?" Tragon asked with a cultivated sound of concern in his voice.

"No, I'm not all right!" Jena screamed back. She looked at Tragon accusingly. "I've been thinking about the things you have said to me all along, and one thing becomes quite obvious. You knew from the very beginning what Tarius was. You knew and said nothing. Why would you do that? What were you getting from her, or maybe it's something you weren't getting—like killed."

She glared at her father then. "This man you insisted I marry is no less a liar to us than Tarius—and with less cause. At least her reasons were noble. Not so him. He wants to own and conquer me. He held his tongue only because he couldn't think of a way to get rid of her. When he did, he spoke. But he knew all along."

"How dare you speak like that of your husband!" Darian said. "He told you how he came to find out."

"He is a liar!" Jena screamed. "A liar and a coward just like Tarius said."

"You sound as if you'd rather be with that beast, that woman . . ."

"I'd rather be with anyone but him," Jena said.

"Hold your tongue, daughter! Chose your words carefully . . ."

"Or what? You'll have me tied to the back of a horse and dragged to death? Oh . . . But it's too bad they never found the body, isn't it, Father? Oh, yes. I've overheard the king's herald reporting to you."

"Harris is gone without a trace, Tragon. Where do you suppose he has gone?" Jena asked turning her attention to Tragon. "If Tarius is alive, and there is a good chance she is, she will come back and kill you. You know her, she is very much a believer in revenge. If she is alive, she'll come back and kill you, and I hope to the gods she does. If she doesn't, I just might do it myself."

"Jena!" Darian screamed. "We'll hear no more of that talk. Tragon is the father of your unborn child. A little respect isn't too much to ask for. A little caring."

"He is not the father I choose for my child," Jena said. "Yes, it was dark, but I saw Tarius's face that night. It was some sort of glamour."

"You talk nonsense, daughter," Darian said. "Where would Tragon get such a thing?"

Tragon couldn't, but Tarius has a friend in the wizard. She could have easily acquired it. No sense in implicating Hellibolt. No sense in this conversation at all. I'm stuck here with no way out. Tarius ruined my life, and I should hate her. Instead I hate Tragon even more than before. I blame him because I was happy in my ignorance, and he wouldn't let me remain ignorant.

She pushed away from the table and went to her room, locking the door behind her to make sure Tragon couldn't join her. She lay down on the bed and cried. If it weren't for the baby she'd kill herself. But the child gave her hope. It was someone she could love who would love her back.

I had that with Tarius, but it's gone now. It was all a lie anyway. All a lie, except her love. That was real. But could I love her? Would I have loved her had I known she was a woman?

She was confused and lonely and filled with hurt. In a few short weeks her life had gone from a dream to a nightmare.

* * *

It took them three weeks to reach the coastline. Tarius could barely walk or ride, and she didn't seem to be getting any better. She ran high fevers almost every day and woke with night terrors every night.

He helped her walk along the docks. They were looking for a Kartik vessel, any Kartik vessel headed for home. They finally found one at the end of the dock. Harris had seen ships in pictures, but nothing he had seen had done them justice. They were huge beasts of wood and rope, cloth and metal. And the ocean! It was so big! He had never seen such a huge body of water.

"Sister," a sailor said in the Kartik tongue, holding his hand up in the traditional Kartik greeting. Tarius grasped his hand in the air and brought their elbows together.

"Brother," Tarius answered in Kartik.

"What can I do for you?" the sailor asked.

"I wish to talk to your captain about booking passage for myself, my young friend here, and two horses," Tarius said.

The man nodded and led them on board the ship and to the captain's quarters. The captain wasn't a big man, in fact none of the Kartik people Harris saw on the boat seemed to be carrying even one extra pound. They were tall—on average over six foot—but they were thin and well-muscled. The captain wore bright colors of red, orange and yellow, reminding Harris of Tarius's old gambeson.

The women Harris had seen on deck were beautiful—dark, and sultry and all wearing swords. Doing what in his country would have been considered men's work. Both the men and women were dressed in minimum clothing all just as bright as their captain's.

"What can I do for you, sister?" the man asked in Kartik.

Tarius had started teaching Harris Kartik as soon as they had decided to move. The last three weeks she had made him crazy refusing to speak to him in anything but Kartik. Now he was glad she had. It would be too weird to have people around you talking and not know what they were saying.

"I wish to book passage for myself, my friend, and two horses back to the Kartik," Tarius said.

"I'm afraid we are full up this trip," the captain reported. "You're hurt. Accident? Or are you in some sort of trouble?"

"I'm in trouble. I was fighting in the Jethrik army against our enemy the Amalites."

To Harris's shock and amusement, both the captain and Tarius stopped to spit on the floor before Tarius continued. "The King of the Jethriks found me out, and now he wants me dead. It was he who put the arrow in my side. My need is most urgent. I must get to the Springs of Montero, or I will die."

"Are you the Katabull?" the captain asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Aye," Tarius said.

"Then say no more. We'll make room for you," he said. He took her hand and shook it.

"I can't pay much, but I swear to you that if you will give us safe passage I will pay you the remainder of the fare after I find sword work," Tarius promised.

"Your word is good with me. Collect your horses and your gear; we sail with the tide."

As they left the ship to retrieve their belongings Harris asked, "What was all that about?"

"The Hot Springs of Montero have healing properties for everyone, but especially for the Katabull," Tarius said.

"I know that. You have told me about a hundred times. I mean why did he change his mind when you told him you were Katabull?"

Tarius smiled. "Because while the Amalites think we are bad luck, and the Jethrik barely tolerate us, the Kartik believe that the Katabull are blessed by the One Who Has No Name. They believe we bring them luck. Sometimes superstision can work in your favor."

* * *

Jena looked out the window just in time to see Arvon arrive. He hadn't been coming to help with the training of the recruits since Tarius had been found out. She ran through the house and to the door, hoping to catch him before he entered the academy. She flung the door open in his face, and they both jumped.

Jena shook her head. "I'm sorry, Arvon. I saw you ride up and wanted to talk to you before you went into the academy."

Arvon frowned hard and shook his head. "I have no business there. I came to see you. To talk to you. Are we alone?"

Jena shook her head no. "These days the servants make daily reports of my actions to my father. We could walk down to the creek."

Arvon was silent as they walked along. Finally, Jena could stand it no longer. "Is Tarius . . . Is he . . . she. Is she . . ."

"Dead?" Arvon asked, his voice filled with contempt. "Why do you assume I would know, and would you even care?"

"Yes, of course I would. I didn't want her hurt," Jena said.

Arvon stopped, deciding they were far enough away from the house and the academy. "This has been very hard for me, Jena, because the last words Tarius spoke to me were of you and your safety. She made me promise to keep you and your baby safe from harm, and to take care of you. I gave my word that I would. But the last time I spoke to you, you had only words of contempt for her. Such hate and such loathing that I don't really want to help you. Still I find myself in a position where I must."

"Then you knew all along, what he . . . she was?"

"Not all along but I've known for a long time."

Jena nodded then looked confused. "I was very angry and hurt, Arvon. How could I not be? In all truth I still am, but now my hatred has turned to Tragon and even to my father and the king." Jena walked on a little further down to the creek and sat down on a rock. She heard Arvon walk up behind her. "My mind wanders from chaos to madness and back again, it's as if I can't hold on to even the simplest thought. Every night I dream of her, Arvon. Of how gentle was her touch. Sometimes I dream that I make love to her as well. I dream that we are together. May the gods help me, Arvon, it is only those dreams and thoughts of my baby that keep me going these days. I miss her, I know I shouldn't, but I do. Tell me, Arvon, you're queer. Do you think that I am? Could I be?"
"Frankly, Jena, I always thought that you were. Tarius didn't look like a man. Ask yourself this; why did you choose Tarius? You're a beautiful woman. You could have had your pick of a hundred different gorgeous fighting men, and yet you chose Tarius. Why? Not only does she not look like a man, but she doesn't act like one, either. You may not have known it, but all of the things you found in Tarius that were missing from the men you knew were female traits. You fell in love with Tarius because she was a woman," Arvon said. "I couldn't convince her of this, and now she may be dead. She was afraid that you would react in exactly the way that you did."

"And, how else did you expect me to react, Arvon? I thought I had married a man and I was married to a woman, and not just any woman but a Katabull. She even put that bastard into our bed to impregnate me so that she could continue to hide her secret." She started to cry then. "Gods won't someone please tell me what I'm supposed to feel? She's not dead; I know she's not, she couldn't be . . . Oh Arvon . . . Please don't hate me; I'm so alone." She turned a tear-streaked face to look at him. "Tarius asked you to take care of me. Well, please do, Arvon, because I need someone to talk to. I need to figure out where my heart is. The wizard told me that Tarius wouldn't die. He told me to follow my heart, but I just don't know where it is anymore."

Arvon nodded and took her into his arms. He couldn't see her like this and stay mad at her. She couldn't be held accountable for what she had said that night. She needed him, and he had made a promise.

* * *

When they had first set sail, Harris had been filled with excitement. Then they had sailed out of the harbor and he realized there was still more to the ocean. He stood and gazed at it in astonishment—there was nothing but blue as far as the eye could see.

"How . . . how do we know which way to go?" Harris asked Tarius.

"It's that way," she said pointing. She was sitting on a barrel covered with a blanket fighting yet another fever. She wasn't really in the mood to talk.

"But how will they know when we're in the middle of it?" Harris asked, too excited to be concerned for the moment with his sick friend.

"Charts and stars," Tarius answered.

"Huh?" Harris said.

Tarius realized she wasn't going to get off the hook that easily, so she started a lengthy explanation about how star maps and charts and compasses worked. She was almost glad when he got seasick, because it meant he left her alone. The Kartik sailors all laughed at him, but when he had been good and sick for several hours they finally brought him their world famous hangover/seasickness remedy. It didn't work right away, and Harris asked one of the sailors to take care of Tarius.

The woman bathed Tarius's face with a wet rag. "Your fever is very high," she told Tarius.

Tarius was almost delirious. "I know."

"Can I look at the wound? I know a little about healing."

Tarius nodded silently. She didn't remember when they had last changed the dressing. The girl pulled the dressing off and made a face, so Tarius decided it had probably been awhile. She hadn't been coherent enough for long enough to mess with it, and it was only now that she realized she had been remiss in not teaching Harris anything about first aid.

The woman began cleaning the wound. "Well, there's part of your problem. You didn't take the stitches out and a couple are infected." She took her dagger and gently and skillfully cut the stitches and pulled them.

"You're pretty good at that," Tarius said.

"Thanks," she said. "A salt water poultice might be a good idea."

"There are stitches in the back, too." Tarius leaned forward and the woman removed the stitches and cleaned the wound. Then she put a saltwater poultice on it, wrapping it to Tarius's body.

"It burns," Tarius said.

"That's good, means it working. Here . . ." She handed Tarius a canteen. "Drink this."

Tarius took a long drink. "So, what's your name?"

"Elise," she said.

Tarius smiled a sickly smile. "My foster mother's name was Elise. Thank you very much." She handed the canteen back to the woman.

"What's your name?" Elise asked.

"Tarius," she answered.

The girl looked startled. "Tarius, like Tarius the Black?"

"Aye . . . One and the same," Tarius said.

"You're a woman? In town we heard stories about you, but they said you were a man," Ellis said. "You are a very great warrior."

"Thank you," Tarius said.

Elise stood and yelled out. "Hey everyone! This is Tarius the Black! The savior of the Jethrik is a Kartik woman."

They all laughed and whooped and hollered, apparently very happy to be in the presence of such a warrior, and thrilled with the irony that a country that didn't allow women to fight in their army had been saved by a woman warrior. They gathered around her and wanted to know which stories they had heard were true.

She was tired and fevered and the saltwater burned, but as she started to tell the battle stories she forgot even the pain in her chest. In battle none could equal her. She knew it. The only battle she had lost was the battle for her heart. She would become what she was meant to be, a warrior and nothing but a warrior. She would live by the blade and for the blade and think of love no more.

She would truly become Tarius the Black.

* * *

Jena lay in bed and looked at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep. Who was she? What did she really want? Did she still love Tarius? Had part of her known all along that Tarius was a woman? No, but she couldn't convince herself that she hadn't chosen Tarius because "he" looked and acted like a woman. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that was exactly why she had found Tarius so attractive.

She'd never known her mother's love, maybe she craved a woman's love because of that. Somehow she didn't think that was the answer either though.

She allowed herself to do something she had consciously blocked from her mind since she had learned that Tarius was a woman. She thought back to the first time that Tarius had made love to her in the open field. She remembered all the times that Tarius had made love to her, trying to recall if she had ever felt repulsed the way she had when Tragon had posed as Tarius. There was no such time. With Tarius she had felt special, cherished, loved. Nothing Tarius had done to her had made her feel anything but pleasure.

On the other hand, what Tragon had done to her had left her feeling violated. When she'd first learned the truth she had told herself that it was because she knew somewhere in her heart that it wasn't Tarius, but that simply wasn't true. If she'd any idea it wasn't Tarius, she never would have allowed it.

What does it all mean? That I am queer? That I like girls? Or just that I love Tarius so much that it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not? I don't know! I just don't know if I could make love to her . . . knowing. If I could do to her the things she has done to me.

If she's even alive. And what if she is? She can't come back here; I would have to go to Kartik and find her, and I can't go anywhere now. I'm getting bigger by the day. Do I pack up an infant and carry him off in the night? Run with him to a foreign land to find a lover I don't even know if I want? All I do know is that I don't want this. I don't want this life with Tragon and my father telling me what to do and who to be.

A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. She didn't answer the knock; she would pretend to be asleep. The knock came again.

"Damn it, Jena, let me in!" It was Tragon, and from the sound of his voice he was drunk.

"Go away and leave me be!" Jena hollered back.

"No! You're my wife. Mine!" He hit the door hard with his shoulder, and it opened.

Jena jumped out of bed, grabbed her robe and threw it on. "I demand you leave at once," Jena ordered.

Tragon laughed. "Jena, Tarius let you get away with that sort of shit because she was a woman. I'm not a woman; I'm a man. I'll take what is mine."

"I don't belong to you!" Jena screamed. If her father heard the fight, he was ignoring it. Jena silently wished that he would pick now to be on her side.

Tragon walked up to her, and she backed away.

"It's time we consummate this marriage. Time that you had a real man," Tragon said.

Jena snarled back. "I've had you, remember? It wasn't pleasant for me."

"That's because it was too quick. I didn't have enough time. I could make you feel pleasure like you have never felt before," Tragon said.

"Did it seem to you, Tragon, that I wasn't sated when you came to me?" Jena asked with venom. "You could never give to me what Tarius gave to me."

"You bitch!" he hissed.

He punched her hard in the jaw, then grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her so hard that she landed not on the bed but went over it. She landed on the floor stomach first, and knew before she felt the blood flow between her legs what had happened. She lay there for a second in pain and fear. There was an immediate sense of loss like she had never felt before. Then she looked under the bed and saw the hilt of her sword.

"Oh my gods! Jena! My gods, the baby! I'll run get the surgeon. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Tragon said.

Jena stood up from the floor, sword in hand. "You bastard!" she hissed. "First you destroyed my world, and now you have killed my child."

"No!" Tragon screamed.

Jena didn't stop to think. She plunged the sword into Tragon's chest under his solar plexus up at an angle and twisted it, just as Tarius had taught her to do. She drew the sword out and waited for him to fall. As he fell, Jena saw her father standing in the doorway.

"Jena, what have you done?" Darian asked in disbelief.

"You . . . Where the hell were you when this bastard was taking the last thing I had that mattered to me?" Jena cried. She swung the sword in front of her. "Get the hell out of my way, or I'll kill you, too."

She ran past him then turned. "Don't come after me. If you ever loved me, give me enough time to get away."

"Jena," Darian cried. "Let me help you."

"It's a little late for that now, Father."

Jena ran out of the house and towards the stable. She was in incredible pain. The cramps in her abdomen were three times as strong as any she'd had with even her worst period. She was still losing blood, and now she was having trouble keeping her feet. She didn't have time to pick and choose, so she grabbed the first horse she found that was saddled and bridled—probably one that was kept ready for a king's herald—and added horse theft to the list of her crimes.

She raced out of the academy grounds, feeling like all her innards would fall out if she allowed her seat to leave the saddle just a little bit. She knew what it was. It was the baby; it was being born. It was being born dead.

* * *

Arvon opened the door and Jena fell on him her, sword clattering to the floor.

"What the hell!" Dustan asked walking in from the other room.

"Jena," Arvon carried her over and sat her in a chair. It was then that he saw all the blood. "My gods! What happened?"

"Tragon killed my baby," Jena cried. "That bastard killed my baby."

Dustan picked up Jena's sword and showed it to Arvon. Arvon looked at the blood on the blade. "Jena, what did you do?" Arvon asked.

"He killed my baby, so I killed him," Jena said, her eyes bright.

"Oh my gods, she's killed her husband," Arvon said. In Jethrik, the penalty for a woman killing her husband was death. According to Jethrik law, there was no just cause for such an act. "Dustan, get the horses ready and pack some gear. We have to leave tonight."

Dustan nodded and ran outside.

Arvon knew Jena needed help. She needed a mid-wife, but all she had was Arvon, and the only thing Arvon had ever helped deliver was a lamb.

It wasn't as hard as he thought. Still, when he'd held that tiny dead thing, it had broken his heart.

"Do you want to see him?" Arvon asked.

Jena closed her eyes and shook her head no. "I have enough nightmares in my life now."

"I'll be back." Arvon took the child and the placenta outside and buried them quickly. Then he went back inside and cleaned Jena up. Finally, he helped her dress in some of Dustan's clothes. Dustan was busy tearing any clothing they wouldn't need into changing rags. Jena was going to need them.

Slightly more than an hour after Jena's arrival they rode out. Arvon held Jena on the saddle in front of him, trying to ease the jarring. They rode all through the night with Arvon enlisting the help of his Katabull eyes to see. He led Dustan's horse by a rope, and Jena fell asleep against his chest. By morning they were completely exhausted, so they stopped and made camp. They only had one tent, and Arvon put Jena between he and Dustan to help keep her warm.

"Arvon?" Jena said.

"Yes, Jena," Arvon answered.

"I feel so empty inside." Her voice was choked with tears.

Arvon held her to him and Dustan patted her back.

"What now?" Dustan asked.

Arvon shrugged.

"We go to Kartik," Jena said wiping her face. "If Tarius is still alive, we'll find her."

"Is that what you want?" Arvon asked.

"Yes. I have to know once and for all. Besides, where else can we go? I just killed my husband, remember?"

"I've always wanted to go to Kartik. They say it's beautiful there and always warm," Dustan said.

Arvon smiled at Dustan over Jena. He could not have asked for a better partner. Dustan had made no promise to Tarius, yet he was willing to pull up his whole life and run off to a foreign country because Arvon was bound to do so.

"I love you, Dustan," he said.

Dustan sighed but not without a smile on his face. "I love you, too, Arvon. You know, you might have picked some time when there wasn't a woman between us to tell me."

 

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