Camara: Lady of the Sword - Chapter 1

Book 1 - "Hope and a Prayer"

Initial cast of characters

• Lady Camara of Tyberion (pronounced Ka-ma'-rah, similar to cabana), swordsman, archer, minor mage, skilled in unarmed combat as well as with many weapons, highly knowledgeable in diverse areas, especially healing.
• Captains - Lord Verran of Tyberion and Sir William of Lyon, both renowned and skilled fighters and leaders.
• Humboldt - her pet wizard. Rather inefficient as a battle mage, but good with recharging magic. Skilled, well educated, but weak.
• Briana - (pronounced bree-a'-na, again, similar to cabana) she was once Camara's lover. Excellent street fighter. Skilled in unarmed combat, skilled with knife, garrote, short sword, darts, bow, and other weapons.
• Trieste - lady thief, assassin, bard, dancer, and sometime madame, former native of Gedren, skilled with knife, blowgun, garotte, poisons, skilled locksmith and lockpick, some magic ability.
• Deena, huntress, expert with natural weapons & sling, good with knife, bow, and staff.
• Arden, hunter, good with short sword, bow, staff, spear, javelin, natural weapons. Mate to Deena
• Bracchus of Trakus - Camara's current stud. Powerful fighter, expert with sword and spear, good with knife. Best in toe to toe open combat.
• Taggart - ladies man, skilled lover, nasty street fighter, skilled with hands, feet, knife, chakram, sling, bo sticks, and a number of other weapons.
• Timian - journeyman healer, sage and alchemist, good with staff and sling.
• Lydia - would-be bard, skilled dancer, skilled with lute, expert with darts, skilled with sling, knife, and staff. Her God is Escalia, guardian of maidens and children, ruler of the heart, avenger of broken loves (only a few of her aspects). Hired by Merovance, King of Saldar, to steal back the Medallion of the Sabre. He lives in a palace in Saldar City.
• City of Gedren - the place where she is heading, where the Medallion is rumoured to be.

Note: I use titles that are familiar to the modern day reader, ones that would be somewhat similar to the ancient forms. 'Sir', 'Lord', 'Lady', 'King', 'Count', etc., are ranks understood by most people, especially me.

 

Chapter 1

The Bard speaks:

For those who care, this is the introductory tale of Camara, the first one taught to bards in training. Few master the intricacies of this epic until well into their journeyman years because of the difficulty in conveying the subtleties of human interaction during extreme emotional stress. Some never learn or understand.

Camara's stories may only be told late in the evening, when innocent children, and even some innocent wives and husbands, have retired. Few are unaffected by the proper telling of her tales, though the reactions are often mixed.

This story is one from her middle years, during her climb to fame, long after her journey through slavery, but before she began toying with the idea of becoming royalty. It boasts of her prowess and the beginnings of her magic, yet also allows a glimpse into her soul, that which is never revealed in the common tales and rumours.

Yes, my Lord, you are correct. Camara herself did aid in the crafting of this tale. That is why I consider it a rare and precious gift. Few master bards have ever had the privilege of discourse with the principal of so many adventures. I myself studied under the great bard who wrote this epic, so I know these facts to be true.

Please get comfortable. Refill your drinks if desired. The tale is long, yet none have ever been asleep at the end of my telling of it.

< Some movement, throats are cleared, a servant refills several wineglasses and tankards, then all is silent with anticipation. >

We begin with Camara and her troops on a journey, currently deep in the wilds, while on a mercenary mission for a powerful king. He has hired her a band of sell-swords, as well as sending along a contingent of his own troops, to aid in the recovery of a certain item. This item is important to him, as without it, he will not remain king for long. Camara has a problem

 

Lady Camara rose up on her knees, then lowered herself again. Her face was tight with concentration, furrowed with intensity. The sensations generated by Bracchus' cock sliding within were well understood by half the human race, yet completely alien to the other half. Phrases such as wonderful friction, delightful fullness, and ultimate pleasure, simply describe - they could never convey the true depth from which such feelings come. Yet, despite several recent attempts, the ultimate culmination of such activities had been denied her. M'Lady was almost desperate in her need for release.

A sound, a discordant note, penetrated through to her clouded mind. Camara closed out the noise without thinking of its significance, lust overcoming her normal reactions. A faint scream brought her back. She heard swords clashing in the distance. "No, not now, not again!" She moaned, stopping her motion, placing a hand on the chest of the man beneath her to still him as well.

"M'Lady! We're under attack! We need you!" That was from Lord Verran, first captain, just outside her tent.

"I'll be right there!" The moment was lost - her tight knot of pleasure dissipating quickly. She climbed off Bracchus with a snarl, lust and desire converting to rage. She'd been close - so close! That was the third time she'd been interrupted. "Somebody is going to pay dearly this time!" she swore quietly to herself.

Lady Camara dressed quickly after drying herself on the bedding. Silk undergarments, leather breechclout, padded leather surcoat, boots, and partial plate armour for chest, back, and shoulders.

With familiar efficiency she strapped on her outer weapons and checked her secret ones. Long sword, long knife, short knife, chakram(*), sling, stones, boot knife, breast knife, hidden heel knife, wire tools in her padding, garrote in her surcoat, sapphire pendant, left ring still in place, right ring still in place. Everything was in order, she was ready to go.

All that took less than two minutes.

"Is it the same bastards again?" she asked of Verran as she left her tent.

"I think so, M'Lady. No insignia, no identity. They attacked quickly, killed several people, then vanished. They lost two. Both are dead, even though their wounds were not fatal." That was typical of Lord Verran. Ten seconds after the fact he already knew most of the story.

"Let's go see what happened."

There were two guards dead, as well as a mercenary, a cook ... and Briana.

Camara dropped to her knees, staring at the still-bleeding body before her, pain lancing through her spirit. Unnoticed tears began tracing their way down her cheeks as she touched the woman's face with trembling fingers. Briana's throat had been slit from behind. Death would have been very fast in arriving, too fast for any sort of healing to be of use. After a moment, Camara's expression changed from deep pain to an intense, controlled neutrality, and a cold fire settled in her heart. Verran was one of the few people who could read the rage that was seething behind her eyes.

Briana was Sir William's fiancee. Prior to that, she had been Camara's lover for a year. A very close, intimate lover, rather than one of her usual bedmates. Now it was personal. That boded ill for whomever was behind the attacks.

"Find Sir William. Round up a squad of rangers and trackers. Get me Humboldt. I want these vermin." Camara steeled herself, willing away the grief that she knew would eventually overtake her.

All told, they had lost five guards, seven mercenaries, a cook, her favourite thief, one ranger, and Briana. Five attacks in ten days, this the first one at night, all from nowhere, with the assassins literally vanishing before their eyes. It was also the third attack to interrupt her personal pleasure, which she considered unimportant, yet significant. The timing was too good to be coincidental.

It was obvious to her that someone was trying to keep them from completing their mission. King Merovance wanted his medallion back and hired her to get it. Whoever stole it didn't want the King to get it back. Merovance's offer was generous because of what he stood to lose. There was payment in gold, of course, as well as certain silks she wanted for another commission, but what clinched the deal was his offer of a service from his court wizard. She wanted one more magical effect in her rings, one that would permanently link them to her. Such a spell was within the capabilities of that spell caster, and very few others. But before such could be had, she needed to gain the amulet, and doing that meant discovering the thief's identity. Finding out who was behind the attacks, she believed, would lead her closer to her quarry.

Now it was a matter of tracking the assassins back to their base, capturing their leader - alive, if possible - and persuading him to talk a bit about his master. "Simple," she quipped to herself. The other thing she wanted to know was how they managed to find her with such ease, and with such perfect timing, despite all the precautions of her rangers and the magical wards encircling the camp.

Lord Verran came up to her, followed closely by Sir William. Despite the wetness of tears on his face, Sir William looked composed and ready to fight. That large and imposing warrior, clad mostly in plate mail, was renowned for his fighting prowess. The man was also handsome and dashing, with bright brown eyes, short, black, curly hair, and a chocolate skin. His passions ran deep and strong. He was fiercely protective of those he cared for, and he and Briana had been in love. M'Lady knew he would not be fit for any kind of mission right then.

"William, take care of Briana, and the rest of the camp. Please. Verran and I are going after the assassins. When we find them, I promise they will pay. And if I can, I'll bring one back for you."

"M'Lady." He saluted and marched off, bellowing orders left and right. She could hear the sorrow in his voice. Briana and he had been very close. She had been a good lover for Camara, and a better one for Sir William, as well as being the nastiest knife fighter either had ever seen. She would be sorely missed.

"Where's that damned wizard," she muttered under her breath. "Never on time, never where you need him, that lazy useless miserable dried-up bundle of sticks." Those two had been friends for almost a decade. If any other person talked of him like that, she would probably have threatened to run the poor sod through. Camara headed for his tent, followed closely by her captain. They found Humboldt close by, huddled over one of the enemy corpses.

"Well? Any luck with these ones?"

"Come off it, Camara. Whoever sent these guys is good. There's nothing traceable in their equipment or on their persons. Just like the others." He smiled and winked at her. "But one of these guys was a little sloppy. He stepped in something on the way here. If we use your night hound, we may be able to find them."

"How?"

"Simple. The teleport spell they're using is a short range one, good for no more than a mile. Somewhere out there is a track to follow. Use the hound, make a big circle, and, if we're lucky, we get something to go on." He had intelligence and wit. That was why he was there. His knowledge of magic, and his skill, were very good, but his power was weak to the point of near-uselessness. She had far more power than him, but lacked his years of training and study. They made a decent team.

"Why the hound? Why not have Deena or Arden do the tracking?"

"There's a wizard at work somewhere using magical misdirection spells. No normal tracking, either visual or by scent, has much chance of success. The hound is immune to almost all of those types of influences, unlike the hunters."

"Let's do it. I want the bastard behind this. I want to make him suffer." She looked like she was ready to rend someone limb from limb.

"Oh? It's personal now, is it?"

Camara's voice was low and dangerous as she replied. "They got Briana."

"I - I'm sorry, M'Lady. I didn't know."

"It's all right, Humboldt. I don't feel it much, not yet. That will have to wait. Right now, I want some blood - and the sooner, the better."

"Go get ready for the hound. I'll be at your tent shortly."

She left to prepare for her summoning. Humboldt and Verran watched her go. There was no mistaking Camara for anyone else, especially in her armour. She was a true warrior - her father long disappeared, her mother a shopkeeper. Trained by experts in the art of warfare, some say she was favoured by the gods. Whispers of strange happenings around her conception and birth were usually met with steel, so few spoke openly of those things.

Two fingerwidths under six feet tall, with long dark hair, blue, expressive eyes, pouting red mouth, round face tanned by sun and weather, stronger than most men, yet beautiful and seductive, she had the figure of a real princess and legs the envy of all. Many men made the mistake of trying to force their favours on her. Most survived. The women who approached her were more likely to succeed.

Back at her tent, Bracchus was dressed, armed, and ready, standing outside the entrance. Camara's image of him was of a big man, strong, a little lacking in wits perhaps, but doughty and skillful in a stand up fight. For tracking and guerrilla operations, he would be a handicap. He wasn't good looking either, with a big, square, scarred face, crushed nose, bull neck, and thick, heavy body. She hadn't picked him for his looks or his fighting skills, however. It was the persistent tales of his stamina and skilled tongue among the tavern maids that drew her to him. Over the past several weeks he'd proven most of those rumours true, as well as proving to be both attentive and caring. Their pleasures would have to wait again, possibly for many days. More frustration for both.

"Might as well get some sleep, Bracchus. I'm going hunting and may not be back for a while."

"Very well, M'Lady. Strike a few blows for me. They got one of my old comrades yesterday."

"I will, I promise you."

He left without another word. She started preparing for the summoning. It was a complex spell, one well beyond her skills, and possibly even beyond Humboldt's. The figurine she would use had been crafted by a much better wizard in exchange for certain rare materials (like the silks she would be receiving, she hoped). Still, some preparation and some magic were necessary, and a small amount of danger existed even using a figurine.

Camara gathered up the herbs, the choke chain, the large collar, and the live chicken. None were absolutely essential, but helped to reduce the risk of a possible backfire. Humboldt arrived.

In the dirt in front of her tent he inscribed a large pentagram and placed the figurine at its centre. Muttering certain words of power, he drew wards at all inner and outer points, carefully removing himself from the middle when done. Camara lit the herbs and threw them into the pentagram's focus, followed quickly by the collar. Muttering a certain incantation, she summoned the infernal beast and at the same time silently prayed everything would go smoothly.

With a pyrotechnic shower of flame and sparks and the accompanying roar and explosion, it appeared. The smell of burnt flesh and brimstone filled the air. She threw the chicken into the centre, where her new creature killed and ate the hapless bird in two gulps. Striding carefully into the circle, Camara placed the choke chain around it's neck, then led it out towards the wizard.

---

Once they found the assassin's trail, aided by that smelly boot, it was easy for her night hound to follow the scent to their camp. Commanded to silence, surrounded by Camara's quietness cantrip(*), she and her commando group were completely noiseless and snuck in close to the pickets.

It looked quiet and peaceful. Only one guard was visible, pacing the camp. There were a half-dozen tents, as well as over twenty sleeping rolls, around several campfires. Camara guessed at thirty five warriors, Verran guessed at just over forty, including at least one mage. They numbered twelve. All knew it would be a slaughter.

She sent Deena the huntress to the left along with one ranger, and sent Arden, who was Deena's mate and fellow hunter, to the right, accompanied by another ranger. They were to take care of any other pickets out there.

Humboldt pointed out the half-dozen trip wires and alarm circles to Camara. Following his silent instructions, she disarmed and dispersed them, without setting off any or alerting the original caster. She was still learning how to 'taste' and 'feel' other people's magic. When she was done, it was just about time.

---

Inside the camp, Gerrold had just finished his report to Captain Torres via the image crystal. According to him, things were going smoothly. So far, they'd traded twelve assassins for fifteen of Camara's men, including the thief and the woman street fighter. Another week like this, and she'd be so low on warriors he might consider a frontal attack to get rid of her once and for all. His orders were to stop her from reaching Gedren, and if that meant killing her, so much the better.

He wondered briefly about who was behind the whole thing. Obviously the person had gold to spare, power, connections, and a problem. The image crystals were only available from a few very powerful mages at prices that would bankrupt a small city. Those assassins, being spent like coppers, were also well-trained and well-armed. Not that they were a real match for Camara's troops. Without that teleport device, enabling them to pop in and out of the woman's camp, they would never survive. It was another sign that whomever was behind the scenes was very wealthy - and very desperate.

A muffled thud outside his tent gained his attention, but before he could investigate, a huge, horrific beast appeared in his doorway. It looked vaguely dog-like, but with reptilian skin, no ears, glowing blue eyes, a huge, gaping mouth, and a set of teeth any shark would be proud of. Standing four feet tall at the shoulder, it looked large and deadly. Gerrold drew his sword, ready to sell his life as dearly as possible.

---

The attack had gone quickly and silently. Deena and Arden had no trouble locating and silencing the pickets. Camara's chakram took out two guards inside the camp, slicing through their throats without even a whisper, ricochetting off a distant tree and back into her hand, as always. Verran's throwing knife took out the third. All the others in that camp were either in the tents, asleep, or unconscious.

Her rangers quickly and silently immobilized all the assassins sleeping in the open. Casting another quietness cantrip, Camara snuck into each tent in turn, immobilizing their occupants. She sent her night hound into the last tent, the largest, just to make a good impression.

Gerrold was stunned to see Camara step up beside her beast. "You!" was all he managed to utter before a blow from behind rendered him unconscious.

---

Humboldt woke him with a splash of water to his face. When he finally spluttered and coughed enough to pay attention to his surroundings, he saw he was surrounded by enemies.

Camara, the tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed warrior witch, eyeing him with amusement tainted by distaste.

In the corner, that enormous pseudo dog, sitting there with obvious hunger in it's eyes, staring at him.

A young, skinny man - Humboldt - looking no more than seventeen or eighteen, pale as the belly of a fish, with dull brown eyes and limp brown hair. He looked like one of those stick men the puppeteers in different villages use on occasion.

One huge woman - Deena - well over six feet tall and heavy to match. She had yellow eyes and tawny blond hair. Despite her height and girth, she moved with a simple, effortless grace that implied great strength and speed. Gerrold guessed that she must be one of the weretigers he'd been told about.

A tall, elegant looking gentleman - Lord Verran - dressed in tan leathers. His weapons were simple and functional, as was his helm, yet he carried himself with the bearing and manner of a prince, or a king. His piercing grey-green eyes seemed to bore straight through Gerrold's skull, peering around inside at all the hidden evils and secret thoughts. His thin face and pencil moustache matched his lean, tightly muscled physique. The man looked dangerous, even without a weapon in his hand.

The pounding ache in the back of Gerrold's skull made thought, let alone speech, difficult. He simply stared back at his captors, waiting for something to happen.

"Get ready to give him the potion, Humboldt," said Camara. Then, looking at their prisoner, tied naked and spread-eagled on the bed, she spoke in a light, easy tone. "What's your name?"

"Gerrold." There was no reason for him to lie about that. Any wizard could perform the spells they wanted using body parts. His name was only necessary if they didn't have anything physical available. The only two pieces of information he knew he had to withhold were of the image crystal and the name of his immediate superior. If he started to talk about either, then the poison embedded in his tooth would shoot into his blood and kill him in only a few seconds. He'd seen the victims - they looked like they died in horrible agony.

"All right, Gerrold." Camara was speaking again. "My pet wizard here is going to feed you a potion. Be sure to drink it all, because it's very valuable. It's to help with that nasty headache you no doubt have. I want you wide awake to answer some questions I have."

He drank without protest. Within a few moments it had removed the pains in the back of his head and, he suddenly realized, one in his mouth, one in his lower stomach, and another in his right forearm.

"Good boy. Oh, this potion does have some rather special side effects as well. You'll speak when spoken to, and answer all our questions as completely as you can. You can no longer lie or withhold anything. I find it very useful at times."

Gerrold knew that he was protected against that type of truth potion. It was one of the requirements for his job.

"Just to make sure you don't fade away on us, we've removed your fancy tooth, the ruby embedded in your arm, and the sapphire buried in your gut. All were very nicely magicked, I might add. They were difficult to take out without killing you."

He'd known about the ruby. "A sapphire? Well, I'm still protected against the truth potion," was his private thought.

"First question. Who's behind these attacks?" asked Camara.

"Ares," he said. "What the hell," he thought. "The worst that can happen is the god appearing in person."

"He's lying," stated Humboldt. "He must be resistant to the potion."

"Oh gooooood!" Camara said that with obvious joy. The ugly smile on her face and the glint of real evil in her eyes did terrible things to both men's insides. "I take it he's quite secured and defenceless now, Humboldt?"

"Yes, M'Lady. All magic has been removed from him, inside and out, and those special fetters will prevent his casting any spells. He is at your mercy."

"My, my, my. Such a treat. Verran, would you please bind his mouth open so he can't bite. Then everyone leave. Humboldt, take the hound with you as well. I'll be quite a while in here."

---

* Author's notes

Chakram - an ancient eastern weapon. It vaguely resembles a hollow Frisbee, like one of those children's toys called a flying ring. It is made from quality swordmetal and is sharpened on the outer edge. A skilled practitioner can strike an accurate and killing blow from fifty paces with ease. Camara's weapon is not your average run-of-the-mill item. That weapon has its own rather storied past. Camara happens to be the latest owner.

Cantrip - a small spell, one that can be cast quickly, with little power, using only words and/or motions.

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