"SoulSearch - Chapter 1" by Simon McLeod

The bright sun, encircled by a garish orange haze, was considerably hotter than Kira had anticipated. It blistered down on her as she stepped along the narrow path between gargantuan rocks. The heat radiated from the red rocks making her feel as though the path wound through an overheated oven. She was glad she had had the foresight to dress in light, loose-fitting clothes. From crown to ankles, she was garbed in light, billowy silk that allowed the light breeze to pass straight through to cool her skin. Perspiration was dried instantly. The exception, of course, were her feet, which were encased in sturdy, ankle-high, leather boots. She could feel the sweat between her toes but she hoped the wool of her socks would absorb most of it. Because of the rough terrain, she needed the boots to protect her feet and support her ankles. The likelihood of placing a foot wrong was very high.


The passageway seemed to be coming to an end and Kira stopped for a moment. She placed her hand against the rock to get a feel for what might lie ahead. Rock was every bit as good as trees for absorbing energy, the only difference being that rock held it much, much longer and sometimes it was difficult to determine just how recent the most recent energy was. Kira was good at sorting through the various energies to find the newest addition but she still needed a lot of practice to actually time the energy. That was pretty much the point of this whole exercise. Mother had said practice, practice, practice was the only way. It was all very well to be told a piece of information but for it to be truly valuable, one had to experience it for oneself. So here she was, on the first leg of her journey, learning for herself what the energies felt like. The warm rock pulsed against her palm in waves of pain and fear. Spikes of terror, more powerful than the fear, stabbed at her and she snatched her hand away. This was recent, very, very recent and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to continue on. But she had to. She had been compelled to this particular time and place from an infinity of choices and she had to know why. Everything was for a reason, as Mother had said time and time again. There was no such thing as coincidence.



Kira pulled her white kerchief a little lower over her forehead to shade her eyes and face from the harsh sun. She settled her small pack a little more comfortably on her back, checked to make sure trousers were tucked into boots, shirt was tucked into trousers and kerchief was tucked into shirt so the only skin in contact with the force of the sun was on her hands. These she could tuck into her pockets to avoid sunburn. Feeling she was as physically ready as she was ever going to be, she took the last few steps between the rocks and found herself staring at a large, flat plain completely surrounded by the massive rocks. Birds circled lower and lower at the opposite end, some of them landing and feeding busily. Kira shaded her eyes and peered into the distance to see what the birds were after. She sucked in her breath and started to run. Bodies littered the earth. This was what the rock had meant by pain and fear. Now that she was in the open, she could feel the recent clash of weapons, the slide of sword into exposed flesh, death. She ran, slithering over and around rocks, completely focused on the scene before her. She ran, oblivious to the heat of the sun, clothes billowing around her, coming untucked with the force of her passage.



The battle had ended hours ago, possibly last evening. Kira stood in the midst of the carnage, seeing hacked bodies that had had no means of defending themselves. Women and children had died just as easily as their men. Only a few of the men strewn about had been armed and then only with the most primitive of weaponry. No match for what had killed them. Kira closed her eyes to better feel for life, even the tiniest spark. She pushed her senses farther and farther until, finally, she found life. Only one and it was fading fast. Clamping down on her feelings, which threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of so many slain, their lifeblood now one with the earth, she moved unerringly to the one person who still lived.



He was slumped in the shade against the rocky perimeter as though he had been standing, back to the rock for protection, when he had been taken by a sword to the side. He must have slid to the ground as he lost consciousness. Kira looked at him for a moment, shocked at how far beyond the others he was. Whereas they were dressed in the simplest of homespun tunics and primitive sandals, this man wore leather boots with metal shin plating, leather tunic with a short, white tunic beneath. His arms were encased, wrist to elbow, in metal and next to his left hand lay a huge metal disk that Kira could only assume was a shield. His right hand still loosely clutched a bloody sword. Should she help this man? He was so obviously one of those who had slaughtered all these helpless people. She sighed. No matter what he had done, he was still alive and she had the power to heal him. Setting her personal feelings aside, she dropped down beside him to assess the extent of the damage.



Blood trickled down his brow from somewhere under his shoulder-length, curly black hair. This wound seemed only superficial. Various nicks and scrapes trailed over his upper arms and thighs, those areas not covered with leather or metal. None of those were life-threatening, either. The injury that was sucking the life from him was the deep gash in his side, just below his leather tunic. Whoever had stabbed him had known just where to thrust. Kira sent her senses into the wound to determine the extent of the damage and was surprised that the man still lived. He had lost so much blood and after the hours that he had obviously spent here he should be dead, but she sensed a determination in him. She moved him on wings of air to a prone position, more comfortable than half-slumped against the rock. His neck must have a terrible kink, although she didn’t think it would be a priority if he awakened at this point.



Kira removed her pack, dropping it to the ground within easy reach, and settled comfortably beside the fallen man. This might take a while. She placed her hands just above the wound and closed her eyes, concentrating on the healing process. Never, in her all too short fourteen years, had she undertaken a healing of this magnitude, but she was confident of her success. That he had held on this long was a good indication that the man wanted to live, which helped a great deal, but Mother had always said that as long there was even the most minuscule spark of life left, the body could be healed, be it man, animal or plant. Even the rocks could be healed. It was just a matter of tapping into the Universal energy and letting it run through her into her patient. She was merely the conduit but she could follow the progress with her senses. Time flew by as his body absorbed the healing energy and slowly mended itself from the inside out. Kira’s legs went to sleep and she carefully shifted them around without moving her hands. Her shoulders ached from holding her hands out for so long, but she ignored it. Once the man was healed, she could quickly heal herself. The sun was well past noon when the wound closed over, leaving a faint pink scar. Kira moved to the man’s head, holding her hands over the wound there. It still oozed blood and he needed to hold onto as much of his blood as he could if he was to fully recover. At one point, his long eyelashes fluttered and she found herself looking momentarily into glacial blue eyes. Were his eyes really that cold or was she being fanciful? She hoped the latter as she didn’t want to be healing the man responsible for the carnage about her. She had to believe in his innate goodness.



With a start, she realized she had ventured into the man’s mind and immediately withdrew. Mother would be so disappointed that she had allowed her discipline to slip. Reading minds uninvited was definitely a no-no. She had had that drummed into her from birth. The man was so open, though, that it was easy to read him. His name was Arik, a piece of knowledge she planned to keep to herself until such time as he offered it to her on his own. The most important thing she had learned, though, was his language. He spoke Latin. Kira searched through her mind and pulled up Latin so she was ready should he come around and talk to her. She could wait until he actually spoke a few words to place them, then search for the language at that point, but she might seem like a ninny, not answering right away. There had been other brief impressions from his mind, but those she filed away for later. His head wound was now healed.



Kira lifted her hands and climbed shakily to her feet. Her legs were rubbery from sitting for so long and her back ached. She arched her back, stretching out the kinks, feeling the sun beating against her face as she did so. They were no longer in the shade she realized. Best to move Arik out of the sun before it sapped all of the moisture out of him. She tried to lift him but found he was much too heavy and, while she could levitate him into the shade, she thought he might be just aware enough to know what was happening. The people in this time, she knew, were not enlightened enough to understand. She rummaged in her pack and came out with a length of cloth, which she fashioned into a makeshift tent over him with the help of two broken spears and several rocks she found nearby. The man’s body was fighting back to complete health and it might be hours yet before he regained full consciousness. Once more she delved into her pack, coming out this time with a bottle of cool water. She crawled into the tent beside him, lifted his head and drizzled water through his parched lips. He swallowed reflexively, taking several mouthfuls before it started trickling down his chin. While she had his head in her hands, she decided to clean his face as best she could. She settled his head in her lap, pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, soaked it with some of the water and sponged his forehead and cheeks, trying to remove the worst of the dried blood. She brushed his hair back to check his head wound and noticed how his black hair curled softly around her fingers. She’d never seen such curly hair on a man, not that her experience with the opposite sex was that vast, nonexistent if truth be told. And his eyelashes were wasted on him. She could have done with lashes half as long. Well, maybe if hers were just darker they’d be noticeable. Palest blonde did not stand out and with her pale hair, eyebrows and skin, sometimes she thought she looked like a ghost, which is why she liked colorful clothes. Her trousers today were royal blue, while her shirt was the color of the sky above her head right now. She had opted for a white kerchief over her head hoping it would reflect rather than attract the heat of the sun. Her pack was the brightest red so she wouldn’t misplace it.



Kira rinsed the cloth out one last time and placed it across Arik’s brow. She capped the water bottle and replaced it in her pack, dragging it with her as she slid out of the tent. She had work to do and it was best done in the light. She knew the sun disappeared fast in the desert. Quickly, she cast her senses around her, searching for signs of life. When the only one she found was Arik, she created a deep hole near the largest concentration of bodies. She moved the bodies into the hole and covered it over with both dirt and rock. The vultures that had been feeding on the bodies were disappointed and took to the air, noisily circling over the tent where her patient slept. She said a brief prayer for the souls of the departed and by the time she returned to the tent, the sun had disappeared behind the pillars of rock. The birds were tenacious, circling continuously, hoping for a meal. Kira tried shooing them away but they looked disdainfully down on the slight girl and continued circling. Kira knew that as long as Arik lived, the birds would stay away. They were scavengers, not killers.



More than anything, she wanted the comfort of her own bed and a long, hot shower, but she couldn’t leave her patient until she was confident that he was safe and well. There were other predators than the birds out here. Some of them were human. The one who had stabbed Arik might return to see if he had succeeded. She knew she needed to stay with him through the night.



Kira fetched her pack from beside the tent where she had dropped it earlier and carried it with her to the rocks near where Arik slept. She sat, back leaning against the still-warm stone and delved into the pack for food. She pulled out a large sandwich, filled with everything she could imagine. She was incredibly hungry as it had been early morning when she last ate and she tucked right in after removing the plastic wrap. A can of orange soda washed everything down and she sat quietly for a time before stowing the detritus in her pack. It wouldn’t do for anyone from this time to see her garbage. A quick check of Arik proved that he still slept peacefully. Kira trickled more water into his mouth, then sat outside against the quickly cooling rock to watch the moon come up. It was full tonight, huge and luminous.



Why had she come to this time, she wondered? She could have chosen any time, any place, past or present, and she had come here, now. Was it the man, Arik? That must be it, since there was no such thing as coincidence. For some reason, she was meant to meet this man. It remained to be seen if it was for good or ill. Maybe it was one of Mother’s challenges. Speaking of whom . . . Kira closed her eyes, the better to concentrate, and thought of her mother. When she had the other woman’s attention, she communicated what she had been up to, ending with her decision to stay the night. As she had known, her mother was not surprised, had in fact known everything she had done all day. Her mother was very good that way. Kira hoped to one day be as powerful as her mother. At the moment she was but a pale shadow but she was working on that. The healing she had done for Arik proved that she was capable. Practice, practice, practice. Kira slipped into a light sleep, commanding her senses to keep watch should anything change.



A rustling sound brought Kira instantly and completely awake. She cast her senses around to determine what the sound was and discovered that her patient was awake and trying to sit up. There was enough light from the moon that she could make out his shadow through the side of the tent. Carefully, she moved to the tent opening, squatting down to peer in. “Hello,” she called, remembering to speak Latin. She watched him whip, lightening quick, in her direction, gaining his feet, taking the tent with him. She backed away from the opening, nearly laughing, but realized that she was out here alone with a dangerous man, one trained in warfare. She was suddenly glad she had moved his sword and spear out of the way because she could sense from the way he thrashed around in there that he was looking for his weapons. Before he tore the tent, she kicked away the stones holding the sides down, jumping quickly back as he fought his way free. He faced her in the moonlight, slightly crouched, balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to attack, sword or no sword.



Kira held her hands out in as non-threatening a gesture as she could manage. She wasn’t frightened because she knew he couldn’t harm her but she was still leery, not knowing what he planned. Now would be a good time to venture into his mind, but she resisted the temptation.



Arik scanned the land around for other signs of life and, finding none, returned his attention to the slight figure before him. That it was female, he was almost certain, but her garb was so strange. No female ever dressed like that. He could make out the shape of her legs and small breasts through the light fabric. So she was female. He relaxed and stood up straight, smiling. He wished she were facing the moonlight so he could see her face. Was she old or young? The latter he sincerely hoped. And was attractive too much to wish for? He thought not. He glanced around once again, trying to place himself. It looked vaguely familiar but something was wrong. And what was this contraption that had held him captive. He kicked at the pile of fabric. Some sort of primitive tent, he realized. How was it he was here? The last thing he remembered, and that not at all clearly, was a battle. Had they been attacked? There was no sign of a battle, so what was he doing here?



Kira stood and stared like an idiot. Conscious and standing, Arik was bursting with life and vitality. The moon shone on his beautiful countenance and she sucked in her breath. Dear heaven, he was gorgeous. He was tall with muscles carved as though from granite, they looked so hard. His patrician nose and chiseled cheekbones lent him a royal mien and she wondered, from the way he held himself, if he were someone of consequence. He was also much younger than she had guessed. Not more than nineteen or twenty, she thought. Her eyes traveled to his eyes and she didn’t much like the way he was now looking at her. At least he wasn’t seeing her as a threat but there was something there that made her take a step backwards and put an invisible shield around herself.



Still smiling, he took a step toward her. “I claim you as my slave,” he said to her utter astonishment.



“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered. Of all the things she could have imagined him saying on waking to full health, this had not even been on the list. She was so surprised that she had thoughtlessly spoken in her own tongue.



“You do not understand me,” he said. Somewhat perplexed, he looked her up and down, still unable to see her face. “I must make you understand that you are my slave.” He started gesticulating, pantomiming what he wanted to say.



Kira watched him more from amusement than because she understood his gestures. When he reached for her arm to pull her forward, she stepped back once again and placed her arms akimbo on her hips. “I understood you just fine. I am not now, nor have I ever been or ever will be, anyone’s slave.” When he moved closer to her, she held up her hands. “Stay right where you are, buddy.” The force of her shield stopped him cold giving him a light jolt of electricity in the process. Push as he might, he could not move any closer to her and his entire body now tingled.



“What sorcery is this?” he demanded. He was more angry at being thwarted than frightened at possible sorcery. Kira knew that wizardry, witchcraft, that sort of thing, was not tolerated in this time.



“The gods protect me,” Kira replied. “I healed your wounds and watched over you while you recovered. I have done only good for you and your repayment is to make me your slave?”



“It is for your own protection. There are those in my legion who would use you ill were you their slave. I am a good master. I will ask only what is reasonable of you.”

“Well, be that as it may, I refuse to be your slave. I am my own woman and I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”



“You speak strangely and your garb is most unusual,” Arik said, moving towards her again.



Kira stepped back, not wanting him to hit her shield again and remind him that she might be a sorcerer. “I could say the same about your speech and dress. This is not, after all, your land. How dare you and your men come here and slaughter all these innocent people.” There, that had him.



“Slaughter? But there is no one here.” Arik looked around in the moonlight. “I see no sign of a battle. Where are the bodies?”



Kira pointed to the rocks she had piled over the mass grave. “Under there. I buried each man, woman and child that you and your men slaughtered. They had nothing with which to defend themselves and would have surrendered had you asked, but you didn’t.” Kira needed a breath. She was getting a little heated and her shield was slipping. Take a breath, calm down, she reminded herself. “Innocent children lost their lives here. How could you ever think that they were a threat?”

“Children grow to adulthood and become capable of wielding weapons,” he said defensively.



“They had no weapons other than sticks. They were no match for your superior swords, pikes and training. They could have been loyal subjects by the time they grew up.”



Arik looked disconcerted. “It is what I, too, thought, but it was not my decision. It is not my place to ask questions. I follow orders. It is the only way to stay alive.”



“Uh-huh,” Kira snorted. “Then why did someone you were with try to kill you? And believe you me, he would have succeeded had I not happened along.”



“What do you mean? There is nothing wrong me. I am not injured.”



“I healed you. Look down at your side. You can see the blood caked on your clothing where the sword sliced into you.”



Arik did as she bid, poking his finger through the hole in his tunic, feeling the stiffness of dried blood. He lifted the tunic and patted his skin, turning this way and that looking for a wound and not seeing one in the darkness. Kira turned away. She had wondered what he wore under his tunic, now she knew. His nakedness didn’t bother him in the least, but this was new territory for her. She didn’t want to be caught staring, and consequently blushing. “There is no wound here, woman.”



“There was a very deep wound there, through which your very life was escaping when I found you. Did you hear me? I am a healer. I healed your wounds. You also had a gash at your hairline.” She watched him feel his scalp near his forehead and she knew when he found the scar. “There is also a scar on your side where the sword went in. Feel for it as you did the other one.”



He slowly traced around the perimeter of the scar and his features took on a haunted look. “I have no recollection of this at all,” he said. “How could this have happened?”



“Someone you know, someone you see day after day, did this to you?”



“How can you be so certain?”



“I can guarantee you that not one of those people,” and she gestured at the mound of rocks, “did this to you. Only those in your company have the weapons necessary to slice into you like that.” She looked closely at him in the waning light. The moon was setting. It would be morning soon. “Who wants to see you dead?”



“No one that I know of. My father is a powerful senator. No one would dare touch me.”



“Well, I hate to point out the obvious, but someone dared. Is there anyone who hates your father enough to get to him through you?” He looked so distressed at this that Kira dropped her shield and moved to his side to lay her hand on his arm. His energy sizzled giving her a burning sensation, but she kept her hand where it was, sending calming energy into him. Within moments, coolness replaced the burning. All of her attention was concentrated on his energy when she should have been more aware of his mood. She completely missed his look of triumph when he grasped her wrist, wrenching her hand from his arm. “Ow,” she cried.



“I will not repeat this again, woman,” he said, spinning her around to face him. “You are my slave.” The sun was on the rise, lightening the sky, illuminating her pale features. All he could see was skin whiter than any he had ever seen and it drew his hand. His fingers reached out to run lightly down her cheek, entranced. He wished he could see her features. He had a feeling she was a beauty.



Kira’s first reaction to his touch was to pull away but it was a light caress and a man had never before touched her. It sent unfamiliar shivers through her being, straight down to her toes and she felt frozen in place. It was much too late for a shield. She could only hope that he didn’t sense her reaction. She swallowed hard. “What exactly do you expect from a slave?” It might be good to know since he didn’t look like he was going to let her go any time soon.



“Cook my meals, clean my clothes, pitch my tent, and,” here his eyes lit up and he grinned down at her, “warm my bed.”



“I see.” Kira studied him for a moment. The sun was coming up as fast as it had set last night and his eyes were the blue of her shirt, warm and inviting. She bet he made quite a few female conquests with that look. It wouldn’t work on her though, would it? She shook her head. What a thought. She was much too young for him and besides, she was on a mission or quest or whatever one wanted to call it. “What does your wife think of that?” she asked. It was one of the snippets of information she had absorbed from his mind during her earlier transgression. Arik’s hand tightened painfully on her wrist and she winced.



“How do you know I have a wife?” he all but growled. “What do you know of me?”



“I don’t know anything about you at all.” His eyes narrowed and lost the warm blue. “A man of your position, son of a powerful senator as you say, would be married early and advantageously. From what I know of your time period,” his eyes narrowed even more and her bones felt as though they were grinding together under his fingers – she was definitely going to have a pretty bruise. Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the best choice of words. “What I mean is, your wife’s father is either another powerful senator or an extremely wealthy man of influence. Someone who compliments your father and adds to his power base. Am I right?” She was trying to keep this light.



“How do you know all this?” His hand was not loosening on her wrist yet.



“I don’t know anything at all. It’s just common sense. Powerful men want more power. Rich men want more wealth. Those that have both, only want more. That’s human nature.” At least it had been for most of history. She looked up at him and noticed the perplexity in his features. “You haven’t figured that out yet?”



“No more,” he said, dropping her wrist. He turned away and went in search of his sword and shield. They were neatly placed out of the way and had been cleaned recently. Arik turned and glanced at the woman, wondering if she had cleaned them for him. He would have been surprised to learn that she had, indeed, but not to preserve the metal. The blood had sickened her and it had been but a moment’s thought to wipe them clean. He hefted the sword feeling considerably less naked. The shield fit over his left armband and with his sword in his right hand, he said, “We must go.”



“Where?” Kira asked and could have bitten her tongue off at the look he turned on her.



“Silence,” was all he said. It had the desired effect because she opened her mouth, thought better of it, and closed it, turning away. Kira collected her tent material, folded it carefully and stuffed the huge rectangle into her tiny pack. She settled the pack on her back while Arik watched with interest. It was certainly a convenient method of carrying possessions and it did not seem to weigh the woman down at all, for all the tent must be heavy. He looked around him, remembering. “Have they stolen my horse, as well?” he muttered under his breath.



Kira heard him, not so much the actual words as the thoughts he fairly shouted. She had no choice but to pick up on them. She cast her senses in all directions, turning as she did so. Arik watched her wondering what she was up to now. It looked as though she was spinning in place. He almost expected to see a tiny whirlwind appear. “Stop!” he commanded her.



Kira stopped, more because she had located a horse than because he had ordered her to. She opened her mouth to speak but he held up his hand in silent command. Slaves did not speak unless commanded to do so. That came across to her loud and clear. “I am not your slave,” she said and he turned so fast that she didn’t have time to shield against the blow that landed on her cheek, sending her sprawling to the ground. She lay there and looked up at him stunned that she hadn’t seen that coming. Geez, but that hurt, she thought, laying her hand on her cheek. Never, in all her life, had she been struck. Anger and humiliation warred with each other and she felt her control slipping. She took a deep breath. She would not stoop to his level. She was better than this. In an instant, the hurt was gone, replaced by an inner calm. Just in case he had it in him to hit her again, she said, from where she lay on the ground, “Horse.” Ah, she had his attention now.



“Well, slave?” His tone could have been better but at least he was listening.



“I thought I heard a horse whinny or neigh or whatever it is they do.” She pointed at a passage between two huge rocks to her right. “Down there.”



“Stay,” he said in as firm a command as she had ever heard, as he trotted off in the direction of her pointing finger.



“Oh, please,” she said, climbing to her feet. “What am I? A dog? Is he going to tell me to sit next?” Now that she had her wits about her, she placed herself atop a nearby rock, quite out of Arik’s reach. Home was looking better and better by the minute but she was still intrigued. He certainly acted tough and was capable of hurting her if her guard slipped, but she had felt a gentleness within him. She decided to stay a while longer.



The horse, black as midnight, was a short way along the passageway. It was coming to Kira’s mental call but there was a man before him instead, holding his hand out. The horse shied back, but the man spoke quietly to him, moving closer and closer, herding him against the rock wall. He was used to having man on his back but this was not the one he wanted. He wanted the one belonging to the gentle voice that called in his mind. Still, he allowed the man to catch his bridle and lead him out of the passageway as it was in the direction of the inner voice.



Once back on the plain, Arik lead the magnificent horse to where he had left the woman, only to discover that she was no longer there. Despite his command. There was no sign of her anywhere until he noticed the horse looking up. There, on top of an unscalable pinnacle of rock, she sat comfortably cross-legged, looking down on him. “Come down here now!” he ordered her. When she stood in one swift movement, his heart wobbled in his chest, afraid for her. “I told you to stay,” he said, pleased that his voice was firm. He blinked and she disappeared from view. In a few moments, he heard footsteps behind the pinnacle and suddenly, there she was. “You will walk behind the horse,” he told her, relieved that she was safe.



“You are so going to have to work on your people skills, you know. Did your mother never tell you that you attract more flies with honey than with vinegar?”



Arik was trying to mount a skittish horse that kept moving to one side, then the other. He stopped and turned to her, perplexed. “I do not wish to attract flies.”



Kira sighed. “It’s a metaphor. People are more likely to do what you want if you are nice to them.”



“People follow my commands. It does not pay to be nice.”



“You know better than that. I, for one, am more likely to do what you ask if you request rather than order. That horse, for another, isn’t going to let you ride him unless you demonstrate that you are gentle. Animals have more sense than people, I sometimes think.”



Arik turned back to the horse, pulling hard on the bit, hoping to show the beast who was master. The horse danced out of the way and kept dancing out of the way each time the man came near. He recognized the voice of the other person as the gentleness in his head and he wanted her, not this oaf. Arik fought the horse for a long time until they were both covered in sweat. Kira watched, silently cheering the horse on.



“May I try?” Kira asked, coming up beside both males. The horse snuffled her chest and Arik yanked her out of harm’s way.



“Move back! Have you no sense, woman?” The horse was trying desperately to be closer to his small companion and he fought the beast.



“Let me touch him.” Kira kept moving forward, hand held out, despite Arik’s protest.



“He will trample you. He is not fully trained.”



“I will be safe,” she said, slipping around to the horse’s far side. She stroked the long, elegant neck, crooning nothings in his ear. “See?” she said, in the same soft voice. “He is gentle as a lamb. That’s all he wanted.” Kira grasped a handful of mane and hurled herself onto the horse’s back to Arik’s astonishment. “You can get up behind me,” she said, not looking at her companion. “He’ll let you now, won’t you Pookie?” She leaned over to kiss the horse’s neck as Arik swung up behind her.



“You may get down now,” he said, taking the reins from her.



She looked at him over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”



“I will not ride with a slave, woman.”



Kira grinned because she knew it would annoy him. “Well, then, you are safe because I’m not a slave.”



“You are my slave. I have claimed you.”



“I am a free woman and no one may claim me unless it is my wish.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Now, if you’re uncomfortable riding with me because I’m a woman, that’s a different matter.” She slid off the horse and danced quickly away, knowing what the horse’s reaction was going to be. It was swift and powerful. One moment Arik was haughtily astride the massive horse, the next he was face down in the dirt. The horse stood quietly while Kira ran to Arik’s side. “Are you all right?” she asked, running a hand down, but slightly above, his body to assess for injury.



He rolled over, sat up and grasped her shoulders, shaking her. “You knew he would do that,” he accused. He kept shaking her. Kira’s kerchief came loose and slid down her back. Arik stopped, really seeing her for the first time. “You are a child,” was his unexpected comment.



Kira wrestled out of his hands, got to her feet and walked away, unaccountably stung. “I am not a child,” she said softly.



Arik watched her, amused. She was feisty for such a young, small thing. That was why he had thought her much older. She was also wise beyond her years. His eye was caught by her hair, flying around her head in the breeze. He had thought it was her white kerchief but he could see now that it was not. Never before had he seen white hair on a child. She was the palest creature he had ever set eyes upon. And he had hurt her feelings. Well, no matter. Knowing that she was a child only increased his resolve to keep her safe. He could only do that if she were his slave. If he trundled around with this adorable child as a free person, she would be forever in danger of the other men. Assuming he could catch up with them. They might be far ahead by now, since he didn’t know how long he had lain senseless before she found him.



He rose to his feet and glanced at the horse. It looked for all the world as if the horse glared at him. Apparently, he needed the girl as much as she needed him. He moved quietly up behind her but he had the feeling that she knew he was there. He regretted striking her. That was how his father dealt with slaves but he was not his father. Out here, he was trying desperately to prove that he was not his father’s son. “What is your name?” he asked. His eyes were drawn to the gossamer strands of her hair, like liquid silver in the sunlight.



“Kira,” she said without turning. She had erected a shield around herself when she felt him move. He could not hurt her physically.



“It is not my habit,” he said pompously, “but I will explain to you why you must be my slave.” Kira finally turned to look at him. His eyes once again matched her shirt but she still kept her distance. She lifted an eyebrow and said nothing, just waited. Arik was a little disconcerted. “If you are to travel with me, you must come as my slave. That is the only way you will be safe from others. As my property you are off limits. As a free,” and he hesitated briefly before he said, “woman,” Kira narrowed her eyes but kept her mouth shut, “you are fair game to anyone who wishes you. You do not have the protection of a husband, father or uncle. It is the only way.”



“I see,” Kira said. What a backward time. A woman had to have a man to protect her otherwise any man could rape and pillage her. Very nice. “Well, it was not my plan to travel with you. Now that you are recovered from your injuries, you no longer need me and I really need to go home.”



Arik glanced around. “Where is this home to which you plan to return? There is nothing near here and you could not possibly have traveled far on your own.”



“It isn’t important where I live and I travel very well on my own.” She turned and started to walk away. He reached out to grab her arm and hissed when his hand passed through her shield. She stopped and looked at him. His hand was slightly numb. “No one can hurt me. I am not your slave.”



She had covered quite a bit of ground before Arik came to his senses and caught up with her. “Very well,” he said, puffing a little. It was getting hot as the sun rose higher overhead. “You are not my slave, but I wish you to accompany me.” He didn’t for one moment believe that she had a home to go to despite her well-kept appearance and he felt protective of her. If what she said about his injuries was true, she had indeed saved his life and he was indebted to her.



“Why?” she practically snarled at him. Her annoyance with him had diminished considerably at his concession but she didn’t want him to know that just yet.



“For one thing,” he said, managing to look sheepish, “I cannot ride the horse without you and it is not my desire to walk. I will never rejoin my company without the horse.” He watched her expectantly but she didn’t come along as he had hoped.



“Anything else?” she asked.



“Pardon?”



“You said ‘for one thing’. That usually indicates there is more than one reason.”



“Despite your being a child,” Kira scowled, “I am indebted to you for saving my life. I wish to repay you in some way.”



Kira turned and headed off again. “That isn’t necessary. It’s what I do. You don’t owe me for something that comes as naturally to me as breathing.”



Arik trotted up behind her and once again stung his hand trying to grab her arm. “Stop that!” he commanded.



Kira faced him and he cringed inwardly. She was truly angry now. “I will not. As long as you keep trying to manhandle me, I will protect myself.” Her pale grey eyes sparked dangerously and Arik took a quick step backwards, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender.



“I will not try to touch you,” he said, watching her warily. What manner of creature was she, that she could sting him thus? Never had he heard of such an ability. If she had healed him of a mortal wound, though, she could not be evil. Unless she had taken over his mind? But no, he was as he had always been.



Kira relaxed. “And no more “child” comments,” she said huffily.



“Very well.” He lowered his hands and moved closer to her. His hand lifted a strand of her hair and he ran it over and over through his fingers. It was light as a spider web. “How old are you?”



She thought of lying but that wasn’t who she was. “Fourteen.”



“Ah,” he said. “Almost a woman. Some girls are married by your age. I am glad that you are not.”



“Meaning?” She was wary again. What a touchy creature she was.



Arik allowed her hair to drop from his hand. He reached down her back and drew her kerchief up over her hair once again. Best keep it covered as long as possible. It promised to attract a host of unwanted attention. “If you were married, you would not have been here to save my life or to assist me with the horse. I have not expressed my appreciation.” He reached for her hand, confident that her shield was still down. He drew it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on the back, watching her eyes flare in wonder. “Thank you,” he said, tucking her hand beneath his arm and leading her back to the horse.



“I don’t recall saying that I would go with you,” she said. It had taken her this long to regain her voice. The feel of his lips against her hand had been a wonder.



“You have not said that you will not,” he countered. Her body stiffened when he attempted to lift her onto the horse and he sighed. “What is it?”



“As far as I can tell, we haven’t settled anything.”



“What is there to settle?”



“I am not your slave. I am going with you of my own free will and if at any time I decide I no longer wish to stay, I am free to leave.”



“You are not my slave,” Arik agreed, “but for your safety, it would be best if we told everyone that you are. That way you will not be bothered by anyone.”



“From what I’ve read about your culture, slaves pretty much did what anyone and everyone told them, no matter who their master happened to be.”



“You have read about my culture? How is that possible?”



Kira sighed. “I’ve freaked you out again. Sorry about that. It didn’t come out right. Just answer the question, please. Are slaves, or are they not, subject to the will of whoever comes along and wants something?”



“Only if unclaimed. I will make everyone aware that you are mine and not to be touched.”



“What if someone decides to touch me when you aren’t around to protect me?”



“You seem to be able to adequately protect yourself from me. Can you not do the same with others?”



“Just checking. So the answer is you can’t protect me simply by saying that I’m off limits. When you aren’t around, I’m on my own.”



“You have an odd manner of speaking and I am not always certain that I understand you. It is my hope that my father’s name will be enough to deter anyone who wishes to harm me or what is mine.”



“We already established that someone wants you dead so I guess if I’m going with you, I’m on my own protection-wise.” Kira grinned at Arik and he couldn’t help but reply in kind. “Just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page.”



“Pardon?”



“Never mind,” she said. “Do slaves ride front or back?”



Arik vaulted astride the great beast that now stood still in Kira’s presence. He reached down for her hand and swung her up behind him. The horse leapt forward with a nudge of Arik’s heels, nearly unseating Kira. “Put your arms around me. This beast would not be happy were you to fall off. I am afraid he will blame me.”



Kira gripped the sides of Arik’s leather vest making him chuckle. It was hard on her fingers so she sighed noisily to vent her displeasure and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her cheek against his back. It was oddly comforting, she thought. The horse pounded the ground in earth-eating strides and all too soon her butt screamed from all the bouncing.



“By what name did you call this beast?” Arik yelled over his shoulder. It was necessary to raise his voice to be heard over hooves on rock. The wind of their passage also fought to wrest the words from his mouth and carry them away.

“Pookie,” Kira smiled against his back.



“Does this name have a special meaning where you come from? It seems to be at odds with his power and physique.”



“It’s more of a pet name, an endearment.” She laughed at the look of consternation that he threw her. “He was confused and frightened when I saw him but when I spoke gently to him, he calmed right down. Like a big teddy bear. I just wanted to hug him.”



“What is a teddy bear?”



“A child’s cuddle toy.”



“I see,” Arik said, but he didn’t really. This child-woman was indeed strange. He found himself wondering where she came from, who her people were that they allowed her to run around alone and unprotected. She was small and he knew, if taken unaware, she could be hurt. He was sorry he had struck her and he wondered why he had. It went completely against his nature. Blame it on one too many shocks this day. He still had little recollection of yesterday’s battle. He was skilled with the sword and would not have allowed anyone that close. Unless he was well-known, a tiny voice said. Kira was convinced it was someone he knew.