Wind Rider

Chapter 1 Pavillion

As I sat there in the pavilion, just Lysia, for a moment, and looked around, I wondered. Had I made the right decision, not only to shout my challenge, but to wear this dress as retort to the snyde remarks from the Torkret Emissary. So many others were depending on me to beat the Torkret Hound, that beast of a man that had challenged and killed three of our better warriors. I looked around at the garish colors of the coverings and pillows common to the our clans in the plains were so different than the plain, practical colors used at home in the mountains. I smiled, here they wanted to stand out in their environment whereas we wanted to blend in. As if I could talk with my flaming red hair, so uncommon to my people, always stood out. My usual mountain attire lay in the corner neatly folded, as did my leather field armor, my sword, and my bow. It was hard to ignore the shouting outside the tent.

We had come to the great plains festival that is held every year at the bequest of the Tomash, which outsiders might call a king or emperor. The only time I had been there before was when I was ten with my father , mother and Stump and it was magical to me then. Now I saw it as crowded and far from home in the mountains and had it not been that the Tomash had requested my appearance I might have not come. I don’t know whether the Tomash wanted to see the mountain girl who had gained some local fame, or the red haired anathema. Our conflict with the Kurls apparently was over and representatives of both sides were working out the details. It was a time when everyone was looking to celebrate but I just wanted to rub my bow. I looked at my bow on resting against tent side, its wood was smooth and shiny. Its name was Sorrow, and I rubbed it often to mourn for those I killed. I do not regret the kills or feel sorry for those I killed, as they knew what they were getting into. But every life I take cannot be taken back. Some I mourn and respected and I want to show honor to them. Some I mourn with sadness, as they had no honor. Many would leave loved ones behind never again to hear their returning footsteps and I would mourn for those left behind. I still do not like taking a life as I hear that some do, and would avoid it if I could. In the Tek Mountains, were I live, we know that life and death are sojourners together, to deal with one, you must deal with the other and so the cycle flows, something dies so that something else might live.

The shouts from crowds outside were getting louder and some were chanting “Meka Trin, Meka Trin” which literally means Meka’s arm. Meka was a hero of our past, a woman shrouded in legend and in the clans we use arm to mean an extension of, or champion of , or represents, like in Tohk trin (of the clan Tohk) or Sturn trin (emissary of the Sturn empire). I shook my head slightly. I have been called so many different names in my life. The Kurls call me Pritcha Thalmar and Breggh Tora, our warriors call me Krin Shin and now the people call me Meka Trin. I smiled, my village used to call me trouble. They had so many expectations of me today, and I felt they just needed something to believe in. Could I win today, I had no doubt, for I would show honor. Would I live today, I did not know and probably would never know, because if I died, my life would be gone.
I looked down at the dress I was wearing. My companions would rib me for this as I never wore dresses. Especially one like this. It was pink with lace on the bodice and left part of my chest exposed. It had sequins sowed into it so it sparkled a little. It was tight at my waist and was pleated so it flowed to mid calf. It belonged to the __________, the daughter of the Tomash, and given to me on my request. I wanted something from her so I could be her champion. Usually it was a scarf but since I was a girl I thought it more appropriate. I knew it would distract the Hound in our contest and any advantage I would take.
“Meka Trin, Meka Trin”, they continued to shout. They expect something special, but I fear that they will be disappointed. I don’t feel that special, just Lysia. If there is anything special about me, it is that I reflect the heritage I have in my parents, my mentor Stump, my village and friends and even from our enemies the Kurl. That I have some skill I don’t deny, but that skill was sharpened and hardened by ones I love and respect. I am only a reflection of their skills, they are the true heros.
Jerl came through the tent flap and whistled lowly, taking Lysia in, starting from the bottom and moving to the top, pausing momentarily at her cleavage. When he reached her face he saw the scowl and said “What? You just look like…. a woman with all your curves well…ummm, well expressed”. She stood up, walked to him, and pushed him to the ground. “Jerl you are such an idiot, we have seen each other naked many times since we were 12 bathing with the others in lakes and streams.” Yes she would get glances, but this was just rude and Jerl was her best friend. “What is it about dresses and an exposed chest that makes you men leer? Are all men stupid?” Jerl just laughed. “Maybe, but it is not often I get to see a she-devil dressed like a princess.” Stump was just coming through the tent flap on his crutches.
And besides” Jerl continued laughingly, “ it makes me want to dance with you”
Stump looked at Lysia face and turned his eyes to Jerl, “Jerl, I don’t think you would like the dance she would give you now” Brego then entered and looked at Lysia then down at Jerl and said “ What did you do, try kiss her? I should be the one to make that sacrifice, so I can die honorably.” Lysia stuck her tongue at him and then smiled and walked up to him. “Brego, should I survive this day, I will kiss you”. He looked thoughtful for a moment , smiled and then spoke up looking eager. “Could I just be owed a kiss, I could sell it to one of the stallions outside for good coin.” She tossled his hair and walking back to her seat she said lightly “Brego, you have no honor, yet we all still hope.” Jerl laughed as he got up, “Perhaps you can honor us by buying drinks tonight at the tavern when we celebrate”, as he gave a wink to Lysia, “ our dear comrades glorious death.” Stump smiled, her friends were exactly what she needed to break up the seriousness of the moment but she must still be focused, so then with a serious look he said ”Lysia, do you want advice?” When Stump was serious it was always a lesson, something to stretch her, to get her thinking outside the given information, to feel beyond herself. When she was young she just wanted to learn to hit something, but he taught her that she must learn what she is hitting or be broken by it. “What I have learned from you and Da is that skill alone is not enough and to ignore information is a weakness that kills.”
“What do you already know?
“That he is big and strong and he favors his left side….. and that his sword is poisoned.” Brego gasped and Jerl had a look of surprise, then anger. “We must stop this now, this is not honor. “ Stump raised his hand and the boys took their cue and were quite but looking agitated.
“Continue”
“From the reaction of their bodies and the tone of the voices of the Emissary and the Hound, I suspect they are here for me specifically.”
“You are correct on all accounts, though I do not know why. What you don’t know is that the Hound is champion of the fight pits in Tohkret. The tattoo on his cheek says that he has won over 40 fights. I was talking with one of their servants and he bragged that the Hound would play with his opponents for a round, then at the end of the second round, he would dispatch them easily. So what does that tell you?”
Brego piped up “Better kill him quick before he warms up”
Lysia ignored him and said “ He will be cautious early on, never assuming, and learn his opponents movement, before he finally makes his attacks and……he will not be used to a long extended fight”
“Yes, you will not be able to beat him on strength as he is far stronger than you, but this battle will be won on tactics and mind games. Make sure your movements are predictable and then when he appears ready to attack, change until he seems ready again. He will tire at some point and get frustrated leading to mistakes. You are not a bear today, but a wasp.”
“Anything else?”
He smiled, and looked back at her friends “There is one lesson that your friends taught you far better than I ever could. Taunt the Hound, it will make him angry, but don’t be affected by his”
Jerl sniggered and Brego proudly said “ Yes, my child, I have helped you master that skill, now go and show the world the power of taunt and your immunity to it.” She looked at these men in her life and knew she would die for any of them.
Stump pulled a metal tin from his pocket and said “pull up your hair” and as she did he put some greasy material behind her ears. “Most likely the poison is ratspur and this ointment has blue nettle in it. It will counteract the poison in shallow cuts, but not deep ones, so be careful. If you are cut rub this in it.” Lysia nodded thankfully. Stump continued, “Do not let your guard down, he did not get here by being stupid. He may even feign weakness to get you out of position. Remember that this will be to the death, so don’t depend on wounds to kill him, cut his throat to be sure. I have seen many presumed dead get up and deal damage. Now I think it is time that you were alone to focus inwardly, any questions?”
Lysia smiled pensively, “No.”
Stump looked at her a moment studying her face, then said “OK boys, time to go” and they filtered out the tent flap.
She sat again and closed her eyes pushing the noise and chants from outside the tent from her mind and started to reminisce over her life.