Camara: Lady of the Sword - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Bard:

< cough, cough > Suddenly my throat feels rather dry.

< A few smirks, some movement in the chamber. A fresh-filled flagon of fine ale is placed beside him, along with a small crystal goblet of fortified wine. His preferences are widely known. >

Pardon? The tale of The Healing Temple? No, no, that was not Camara, though some unscrupulous types may lead you to believe so. No, there were other heroes in the world then, lesser known in these areas, perhaps, but still great, and their tales are many. Others have stolen their fame and have claimed the deeds for themselves, or for their heroes. No, that story took place in another land altogether, and in the retelling, has been transformed. The truth is that it was another great warrior woman, one named Xena, who brought the dead back to life. But that is a tale for another day.

Meet? In combat? No, never to my knowledge or to Camara's admittance, in combat or otherwise, although the gods do tend to play strangely at times. No, my Lady, if the truth be known, Xena may have been a slightly better warrior, but Camara's knowledge of magic would have gained her the victory, I'm certain. Of course, if they met prior to her learning those mystic skills, the outcome would be in doubt.

Hardly Sir! If they've never met, how could they? Really, your imagination is most vivid, but such fanciful tales are suited only to the cheaper taverns and bordellos. I speak of the true tales of a great and powerful warrior.

My Lord? I do not know, my Lord. Those events as told in this tale are vouchsafed by the Lady herself. No doubt you wonder as to the history she related. Camara only promised my mentor that the monologue was correct in its words, not in the truth of those words. One can only guess at which are fact and which are less so. She has an educated tongue, one which plays easily with half-truths, mixing fact and fancy with such skill as to beguile even the most learned.

Of known fact was her ownership by several rather odd lords, and it is well established that the final one was a cruel master. It was he that she killed to escape her agonies and her slavery. That is another tale, however, and the evening wears on. So, allow me continue this epic.

The funeral pyre was ready, and Briana had already been carried to her place of honour. Nearby, Camara sat, dry-eyed, staring at the pile of wood. Some time had gone by since she began her final visit, yet not a single person had tried to interrupt. Finally she started to whisper, speaking to herself, and to the unseen spirits.

"Briana, dear, sweet Briana. Why have the fates been so unkind to you? Not even twenty summers have gone by since you came into this world. Now you are gone again. You always said you would die young and die fighting, yet I doubt you even saw your final opponent.

"It hardly seems real. Already I miss you so much. Do you know what I miss most of all? That quirky little smile you have when you are up to some trick or other. You always gave yourself away, but I never let on. It was so nice to hear you laugh when you caught someone unawares. Everyone enjoyed your jests, even the ones you tricked.

"Did I ever tell you about Collena? We were in love, once upon a time. That woman was as dour as you are cheerful, but inside, there was enough love to fill the world. She went away too. Sometimes I dream of her, just like I dream of you. Her and her two children. It was the first time I'd lived in a house with little ones around. You would have loved them. The girl was so sweet and cute, and the boy was a terror, just like you.

"They say that the dead can hear when someone thinks of them. I hope so. Briana, ever since we met, you knew I had deep feelings for you. Words come hard for me, so I waited to tell you until the time was right. It never was. I love you. For the longest time, I knew it, but never said anything. I couldn't. You were always joking, always laughing. You never gave anyone a chance to be serious, not even me.

"When you met William and fell in love, you broke my heart. Now you've broken it again. It's so hard to carry on as if everything is normal. I keep expecting to hear your laugh ring through the camp. I just wish ... I wish ..."

A sob broke through at that point, ending her speech. With a great deal of effort, she composed herself, then stood to leave.

"Goodbye, my love. I hope we meet again somewhere on the other side. I'll be wanting to hear all about the jests you've pulled."

With that final word, Camara straightened up, steadied herself, turned, and left. Only her overly moist eyes betrayed the pain hidden inside. William nodded as they passed, as he would be the final one to say his farewells.

---

The priest intoned prayers to Briana's god, adding those to his own as well, hastening her spirit's journey to whatever haven waited for her as he lit the oil-soaked wood. Flames flew bright and high well into the evening.

That night was one of the few when Camara actually drank to get drunk, sitting with Sir William, Humboldt, Deena, and a few of the sell-swords. It was a long and sorrowful time with much weeping, and more than a few oaths were sworn to make the ultimate perpetrator pay, though M'Lady remained silent. Hers was possibly the deepest pain. Few were the people ever allowed into her heart, yet Briana had been there almost from the first day they met. Later, while she and Bracchus lay in bed, M'Lady opened her heart to him for the first time, and spoke of the love ...

The Bard:

Pardon? Was that an interruption? No, my Lady, I was not about to relate the tale of their meeting. Why? My Lady, I am in the middle of an epic. It will be quite long enough without additional stories inserted in the telling.

Why, my Lord! Thank you for your most generous offer. I would be proud to relate all of the true tales of Camara, and be your guest for as many nights as required. As for your lady's request, tomorrow night would be perfect for ... Oh. My apologies. I was unaware of that difficulty. If you wish to hear the tale of their meeting, then so be it. The story is short, yet intense. I shall continue with the epic afterwards. Please get comfortable. This will be a long evening.

It was only a year and some before this story that the two met. M'Lady was freebooting, haunting a number of towns and villages, in between commissions.

She was in a small city, just north of the Decant Pit, in a very seedy tavern, and she had picked a fight. Her victim was a very large, beefy sort of man, rather ugly and stupid, yet with just enough brains to know he was stronger than everyone else and could bully them around. For some reason, Camara was in a particularly foul mood and wanted to cause some pain in a deserving soul. The tavern was fairly large and filled to capacity that evening. There were over a hundred men in the common room, along with a much smaller number of armed women, and a scattering of wenches on various laps. Most would have loved to see one or the other bleed.

Unknown to M'Lady, several members of the bully's gang were also in attendance. That would not be a fair fight, with ten on one, and nine of those by surprise.

It began normally enough, with Camara kicking the great sod back onto a table, which promptly collapsed under his weight. Several tankards of ale could not be saved, unhappily for their previous owners. She stood there and waited for him to recover from his ignominious fall, frowning in that distasteful, insulting way she has. Immediately the crowds moved aside, dragging away chairs and tables, clearing an area in the centre for the fight. Obviously it was a fairly common occurrence, since the locals acted quickly and in concert.

Shaking like a wet bear, he stood and tried to rush her. He held wide his huge arms, stomped loudly on his tree-trunk legs, and bellowed wildly to try and frighten this ... this ... woman ... who had the temerity to lay a hand on him. Naturally, he ended up landing face first on top of another table, victim of a fast side step, duck, trip, and an elbow to his posterior. This time the drink owners were a little faster. Only one tankard was lost.

Undeterred, the lummox tried wading in with ham fists flying. Laughing, sneering at him, eyes blazing with battle-lust, taunting his meagre skills, demeaning his manhood, calling into question the parentage of his line back to the slug that first birthed his great-grandsire, she stayed out of reach of his monstrous arms, occasionally striking a blow to keep his interest.

It was her ambush alarm that saved her from being spitted. With that split-second warning, she twisted away from the critical blow, receiving instead a nasty gash in her side. She dampened the pain, of course, but the wound temporarily impaired her mobility. So, instead of facing one large, slow moving opponent, she was standing inside a ring of cutthroats, all evil, sinister looking characters, all armed, all wanting her blood. Things did not look promising, even for her. They moved as one to smother her resistance and take her with minimal damage to themselves. She managed to knock one out and cripple a second before the big one grabbed her leg. She was soon held tightly by all four limbs, and was being subjected to a fair beating.

M'Lady was summoning her strength for one of those incredible escapes when suddenly one of her arms was freed, then the other, and the thugs became confused. The blows driving back those two rats had seemingly come from nowhere. Seizing that brief opportunity, she drew a dagger and slashed at the two villains securing her legs. The first received a bloody wound across his face, while the second jumped back in time to prevent the loss of his arm.

With limbs free, and her enemies in turmoil, she sprang to her feet and went on the attack.

The first small man went down quickly, driven to unconsciousness by a boot to his temple. The second and third proved to be tougher and faster, avoiding any crippling or disabling blows while still occupying her attention. The fourth, sneaking in from behind, was taken out by a back-kick to his face, one that crushed his nose and drove him through another table. The locals learned fast - not a drop was spilled.

The big man was now approaching from her left, sword in hand, while another man approached from the right with a dagger. She sensed two others behind her in addition to the two sword-wielding toughs in front of her. The gang had regained their composure and were now working as a unit to eliminate their prey.

Executing one of those impossible somersault leaps, she cleared the oversized oaf, landed behind him, and regained his attention with a foot to the back of his head. She smiled gleefully as he turned, and smashed her heel into his face, driving him back into two of his own men. Moving quickly, she sidestepped another thrust, grabbed the fiend's arm, pulled him off balance, then smashed an elbow into the back of her opponent's head as he went by.

The battle lust was fully upon her, filling her with a wild, frenzied joy, sharpening her senses, bringing with it a fantastic thrill that ran through her entire body. Everything moved in slow motion except her, and she knew she was capable of anything. It was like the finest drug ever brought in from the south or east, incomparable to any normal experience. Her love, her need, her lust for it was unimaginable, almost as bad as a lotus-eater's need for his smoke. No feat of skill, no acrobatic move, no amount of strength was beyond her. Even her mind was keen and sharp, seeing everything, missing nothing, not focused in on only one move or opponent, using her eyes, ears, nose, and those other unnamed senses to know where all danger was coming from. Only the greatest warriors in the world could match this woman in her full glory.

Once again the big man was coming at her, so far hardly even dazed by her assault. Expecting more of his men to attack, she was surprised to see one sailing through the air behind the big guy. The locals were smarter than I credited them to be. This time, they moved their entire table out of the way. He landed hard. She had only a brief instant to notice another thug laying on the floor, one she hadn't taken out, and two others engaged in fighting a small figure, before the great lout charged again.

She decided it was time for her to end the sham. When he came in, she went low, avoiding his sword and his fist, delivering several hard blows to his abdomen, doubling him over. A quick jab with her elbow cracked his wrist and caused him to drop his sword. With a series of spinning kicks to his head and stomach, she drove him back towards the bar. Ending with a flourish, she leapt high, pounding a rapid tattoo of punishing heel-kicks to his face, and completed her victory by double-kicking his chest and back-flipping to her feet, the blow driving him over the bar and through the rear wall. He was out.

None of the other assailants had either the will or the ability to continue. As bouncers began to clean up the detritus of the conflict, she looked around for her unknown ally. There, across the tavern, was that person. He (she?) was leaning against a post, turned partly away from Camara, and seemed to be in grief, as her shoulders were shaking. Concerned, yet cautious as always, M'Lady approached the fighter. Only when she was much closer did she see that her benefactor was in fact a woman, and that she was absolutely teary-eyed with mirth.

"By the gods!" the other woman laughed, unable to contain herself. "I haven't had this much fun in ages! Come on, let's go elsewhere. I owe you several drinks for this entertainment, and I'd prefer good wine to the swill they serve here."

It was rare for Camara to be caught flat-footed, or rather, open- mouthed with surprise. The young lady before her was a delight to behold. She appeared to be no more than seventeen or eighteen, not much more than five feet tall, very slender in figure, with a clear, tanned face, pale blonde hair, blue eyes, and gorgeous soft lips. Yet the maiden was dressed in black combat leathers and sported an impressive array of armaments, ones that looked well used and well cared for. She had also taken out at least four of the bully boy's crew of thugs.

"Well, I, uh ..."

"Come on. The town watch will be here soon, probably with some more of that oaf's friends. Unless you want more fun, we'd better leave."

She gave Camara little choice, taking her by the hand and pulling her out the back of the tavern. Several streets later, when it became apparent that the blonde had a destination in mind, Camara pulled up. Since the woman was still holding M'Lady's hand, that stopped her as well.

"All right, who are you, and where are you taking me?"

They looked each other over for a minute or two, Camara still somewhat guarded, the blonde looking curious.

"I didn't get a very good look at you in the tavern, but you really are more beautiful than I thought. Impressive, dangerous, and beautiful. I like you."

"All right, full marks for flattery," replied Camara. "Now who are you?"

"Well, if you must know, my name is Briana. Right now, I don't have much time for pleasantries. So if you please, let's be on our way."

"To where? And why should I go with you?"

"First off, you're wounded. You need a healer. So do I. This stab wound in my shoulder is still bleeding. That's where we're going. As for why, he's the best healer in town. You'd end up going there anyway. Now can we get going? Before I pass out? Please?"

It was then that she noticed the girl's slight look of pain, and the slowly greying pallor of her skin. She saw no sign of injury, and the fighter did not move like there was pain or discomfort, yet the signs were unmistakable. Yes, she thought, a healer would be advisable. Besides, that wound in her side did hurt - it was still oozing blood, and she preferred a competent healer do the nasty work rather than herself.

Camara allowed Briana to lead her by the hand, still cautiously expecting trouble. Yet her alarms never went off. They were just inside the healer's house when Briana giggled and spoke.

"Nighty night. Sleep tight." She then passed out onto the floor.

The young woman was heavy despite her small frame. After rousing the healer from his bed, the two of them hoisted the fighter to his table. She had received a nasty wound in the back, just below her left shoulder. It was bleeding only slightly on the outside, but both the healer and Camara agreed that it was bleeding heavily within. It would require magical intervention to save her life, and Camara decided to pay the high cost for a priest, if only to find out more about the strange girl. Her own wound was not severe, and only required cleansing, sewing, and sealing.

The healer was a journeyman, not a master, and the priest little more than an acolyte, yet each knew his craft. Briana was healed of her wound, but her body needed much time to recover. The healer told M'Lady that the girl would probably be unconscious for a few days.

"All right," thought Camara to herself, "I've gone this far, why not. She probably saved me some pain and suffering. She probably thought she was saving my life."

M'Lady rented a larger room in the inn she was staying at, and paid the healer's assistants to carry the unconscious girl there. It was two days before she woke at all, surprising Camara when she did.

"What are you doing here? I thought I was the only one dying."

Camara looked at the girl. The deathly pallor was now a mere greyish lack of health. Her eyes were barely open and she had not moved from the position M'Lady had placed her in that morning, yet she was conscious.

"Dying? What kind of nonsense is that? You're here in my room. Where did you think you were?"

The girl looked at Camara for a moment, then fell into a more normal sleep.

That evening, when she was just getting into bed, she heard Briana speak again. It was again a surprise, since she would have sworn a moment ago that the girl was asleep.

"Funny. You look human. I thought you were supposed to be some sort of monster under those leathers."

An automatic anger took over any time reference was made to the possibility of her non-human parentage. People had died for just those types of comments. It certainly didn't sound much like gratitude for saving the fighter's life.

"Now you listen to me, you li ..." Camara stopped when she saw the smirk on Briana's face. She'd been had. She also suddenly realized that the girl knew who she was.

"How come you're sleeping way over there?"

Camara was once again caught flat footed ... er ... open mouthed with surprise. That was about as blatant an invitation as she had ever received from any woman. Men, of course, were a different matter. It took her a few seconds to regain her composure, especially since it had been an eternity since she'd last bedded anyone - well over three months.

"Briana, you're in no condition for any kind of activity right now. The healer said several days bed rest after you wake up, with no exertion whatsoever."

After all, the girl was just recovering from a deadly wound. She had almost no strength after losing so much blood and hadn't eaten in days. Those sips of water and broth M'Lady had forced down her throat could hardly have sufficed to supply her with needed liquid either.

"If he insists, then it must be. But it's been soooo long, I'm almost dying of frustration. It wouldn't hurt to exercise my lips a little, would it? Please?"

Camara knew that if she went to the girl's bed, it would not stop at kissing. However, she had been taking care of all of the girl's bodily needs for the better part of three days. The maiden was beautiful, even when naked, and Camara was very much attracted to her. It is difficult to say exactly what emotions she was feeling right then, for even she did not really know what they were. Lust, certainly, some gratitude, a little guilt, yet there were other attractions there as well. It certainly was not love, but may have been its close cousin. She liked the young woman, even though they had only shared a half-dozen sentences between them, and only a few more than that number of minutes together.

Lust overcame good sense. She promised herself that she would limit activities to those that would not overly tire or re-injure the blond beauty.

"First you eat and have something to drink. You need it."

M'Lady fed the invalid some broth, bread dipped in water, and a little mashed fruit, along with some of the powders the healer said she would need to rebuild her blood. She also gave the girl a few sips of watered wine. After a while, some slight hints of colour did return to her face.

Once the repast was finished, Lady Camara stripped off the rest of her garments and lay in bed with Briana.

That first night was rather quiet, for both of them. They kissed and stroked each others bodies, touching and tasting lips, tongues, and skin. Camara fingered Briana to a slow, soft climax to end the evening. That exhausted the weakened warrior, who promptly went back to sleep. Despite her heightened need, Camara stayed in that bed, holding the delightful woman in her arms, and also managed to fall asleep.

It was unusual for Camara to spend the night with anyone. Most of her bed partners were sent away to their bedrolls or tents after her passions were satisfied. If she was elsewhere, she would return to her own tent, alone, to sleep. Her habits spoke quietly of the fact that she rarely fully trusted anyone, even those she was closest to. This, then, was a rare event in her recent life, almost as rare as the fingers of a twice-caught thief(*).

Thinking about it later, she realized that for whatever reason, she now trusted a woman whom she hardly knew. At the time her mind was a little cloudy, so she listened to her basic instincts - those that had helped her to survive for so long. Those instincts, and her alarms.

The Bard:

Quiet! No interruptions right now!

< The red-faced warrior stammers to silence under the reproachful eyes of his companions. The Bard continues. >

Morning brought a quiet smile to M'Lady as she watched her new lover dreaming in her arms. The lass looked much younger asleep like that, now that she was away from death's door. Fifteen possibly, maybe sixteen, beautiful of course, but also delicate and vulnerable. It was hard for M'Lady to picture her as the fighter she'd seen the other evening.

Camara wondered of the girl's history. Was she an orphan? Or some cast-off issue of a noble's dalliance, learning to survive without a father? Or could she be from a street family somewhere, looking for an easy mark? Somehow she doubted the girl was after gold or an easy life. Her actions the other day spoke for themselves. As did the lack of silver in her purse. M'Lady had looked, of course. Without Camara to pay for the priest and healer, the child would probably be dead. With her beauty and body, there were far easier lives available than that of a fighter, so she was not after a soft touch. It was an intriguing puzzle, one that piqued Camara's interest.

The girl stirred, not really waking. She pulled herself into a closer hug, nuzzled Camara's breasts, then returned to sleep. Yes, truly a mystery. M'Lady knew it was not her first female bedding either. That was a certainty.

It was another hour before Briana properly woke, interrupting M'Lady's flights of fancy over the maiden's history.

"G'mornin'" The girl simply wiggled into a tighter embrace, if that was possible.

"Good morning yourself. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm hmmm. I had the most wonderful dreams, too."

"Really? Care to share any of them?"

"Nnnnooo, not now. They're private. How come you smell so good in the morning?"

For Camara, this was new ground. She never before had met such an unusual woman. Having no answer, indeed, not even able to think up a suitable reply, she started stroking the blonde's back and shoulders.

"Mmmm. Nice. I could get used to this," said the girl, as she started suckling on one of Camara's ring-pierced nipples. The unexpected sensation sent a thrill of pleasure through M'Lady's body, speeding her heart, and bringing out a small gasp. They lay like that for some time, fully relaxed, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying each other's pleasure, with M'Lady stroking and caressing the girl, and she in turn enjoying the taste of the older woman's breasts, occasionally switching from one to the other, using her tongue to play with the nipples and rings.

To say that this was completely new to Camara would be wrong. There were many times during her slavery period that she slept with and woke with other slaves or masters, both male and female, and enjoyed numerous kinds of delights. The difference was in the time and person. Camara the slave had little voice in her sleeping arrangements. Camara the warrior had, up until then, mostly declined overnight bed partners. She and her new lover were both consciously choosing to share each other's feelings and pleasures. The difference for M'Lady was very real and struck deeply.

As much as she enjoyed having her breasts suckled like that, the rippling tickles of pleasure were simply feeding M'Lady's frustration. It had been a long time since her last bedding, and she had even been denied the shallower joy of self-indulgence the previous night. She whimpered a bit.

Call it experience, call it random timing, call it a joining of the spirits if you like, the fact is that just as Camara was beginning to whine, Briana was bringing her hand down to M'Lady's soft treasures.

Stroking lightly and slowly, the girl began to delve into the delicate and tender folds of M'Lady's haven. That brought on delightful feelings, both those expected, and old ones, ones not experienced in years. The sheer innocence and acceptance of the maiden heightened Camara's sensitivities. She was surprised to find herself suddenly rolling through a gentle climax, one causing her to sigh with the soft waves of pleasure running through her body, starting from nowhere, and dissolving back into nothingness. She nuzzled the hair of that wonderful person, tears forming in her eyes, holding the girl close as she continued her quiet ministrations.

Soft as it was, it reached deep into her body, releasing much of the tension and desire that had been there. Soon she could feel another building as Briana began stroking her pleasure bump, another slow rising, deep reaching ocean swell. It soon found her, rushing through her body in an unstoppable wave of sensation, strong enough to seize her completely, removing her from the world for an instant, maybe an eternity, then bringing her back to all the electric thrills escaping from her special place.

Briana continued, this time delving into Camara's inner self, stroking softly, yet deeply and insistently. Another groan escaped M'Lady's lips, one of pleasure. She wanted - no, needed - one more burst of ecstasy. That soft hand and suckling mouth kept pushing more and more tickles of sensation into the centre of her groin, slowly building that wave of intense feeling. Soon it arrived, pulling M'Lady into the depths of passion, causing her to cry out with the supreme delight of the moment, almost tearing her breast from the mouth engulfing it, writhing around to drive those fingers and that thumb into extending her joy as long as possible.

All too soon, the moment was over. Camara lay mostly quiet, occasionally twitching or shivering with the after effects of her lovemaking, sighing lightly because of the wonderful glow left from that deep release.

A small, rather quiet voice reached her.

"No hair. It's soft and smooth. I like it."

The girl removed her fingers and, much to M'Lady's surprise, licked them clean.

"I'm jealous. You even taste good in the morning." She then closed her eyes, pulled M'Lady back into her embrace, and fell asleep. Camara also napped, feeling drained by the depth and breadth of those special instants she had experienced. They brought back pleasant dreams of days long since forgotten.

The two women spent two more evenings and two more wonderful mornings in that room before Camara decided it was time for her to continue on. She thought her troops would be waiting for her by then, and she needed to see to them and continue on with her life. That wonderful time could not last forever, regardless of how much she wished it to.

Briana watched M'Lady dress, as she had for the last few mornings. There was a difference, though, with Camara clothing herself much more carefully, leaving nothing to chance, leaving nothing behind.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm afraid it's time for me to return to my life."

"Well, help me get dressed then. I'm going with you."

Camara looked at the woman as she struggled to get up. She was healing, yet still lacked all but the feeblest bits of strength and endurance.

"Don't be absurd. You're in no condition to go anywhere. This room and your meals are paid up for two more sevendays, so just eat, sleep and relax, and build up your strength. The innkeeper's wife will be looking in on you several times a day, both to bring you your meals and to change your bandages. I can't stay any longer."

"Now you listen to me, young lady," scolded Briana. M'Lady couldn't help smirking at that. She was at least ten years senior to the blonde. "I've been hunting for ages for someone like you. If you think you're just gonna waltz in, sweep me off my feet, and then waltz out again, you've got another thing coming. This little pinprick in my shoulder sure ain't gonna keep me from going with you."

As much as M'Lady would have liked to take this girl with her, the logical portion of her mind said it was impossible. She was too young, too delicate, and too vulnerable to travel with the tough veterans in her troop.

"No, Briana. It's impossible. I'm returning to my soldiers. There is no place for you among them. Now just lie back and rest. I'll be gone in a few minutes, and then this will become nothing but a pleasant memory for us both."

An ugly expression took over Briana's face, twisting it into something most sinister. Her sweet voice changed to one you'd normally expect from dark, dank, dangerous places. "That just ain't gonna happen! Listen, Camara, I ain't survived my whole life on the streets without learnin' the difference between what I want an' what I need. Right now, I need you. I know you want me, 'cause I see it in your eyes. You can't hide it. All you see now is a frail little girl lying here, right? Well, ask some of my old mates. I's also one o' th' kick-ass worst knifers t' ever crawl outa the gutter. I ain't afraid o' nobody in your army, an' I ain't afraid o' you. Th' worst you kin do is kill me, an' I already bin dead twice, so I ain't scared o' that neither!"

Taking a deep breath and changing back to her sweet voice and expression, she continued. "So, you can either take me with you, or I'll follow you to the ends of the earth. Your choice."

Well, despite the attraction and tenderness that she felt for the woman, Camara was not one to suffer demands lightly. Her temper flared. Her hard, discipline-inspiring face reappeared, as well as her flint-edged voice.

"Good luck. You'll need it. I'll see you again if you ever catch up with me. Goodbye."

And she left. You might think that she would relent, or wait, or travel slowly, possibly even check to see if the girl would be foolish enough to follow, but that was not her way. She had been pushed, she made a decision, and she followed it. There was no room in her life right then for any sort of romanticism. The girl survived before she met M'Lady, and Camara's thought was she would survive again afterwards on her own merit. Any debt owed, or any guilt harboured, had been repaid or expunged by the cost and trouble taken for the healer, the priest, the care given, and the gift of room and board for a time. The heaviness in her heart was not a consideration for Camara. It was fresh, true, but it would fade and blend in with all the other scars and bruises there.

---

It was two sevendays later that Lord Verran approached Lady Camara with a puzzled expression on his face.

"M'Lady, I have a slight problem, and I think it may need your attention. For the past four days, there's been a single fighter following us, slowly catching up. I have no idea who it is, but she doesn't seem to be a scout for someone else, and she makes no attempt to hide herself from our trailers. In a few days she will catch us. It's a little disturbing. Personally, I would prefer to chase her off, but I leave the choice to you."

Despite herself, Camara's thoughts turned to her last image of Briana, as she was sitting up in bed, still weak as a kitten, hardly able to stand, yet bravely announcing her intent to be Lady Camara's lover and threatening to follow her chosen woman to the ends of the earth.

"Describe her to me."

"Well, I don't have much because our scouts have kept their distance, but she is short, dressed in black leathers, and blond. Oh, and she's leading a horse. It appears to be the same one those two bandits had, the ones we crossed paths with a week ago."

That was something Camara never expected. It sounded like it could be, but was it? Dare she dream it? She had to know. A thrill of excitement ran through her at the possibility Briana could be following through on her threat.

"Send a pair of scouts to look her over carefully. I want no menace from them, no fright, just a close scrutiny. I need a good description of that fighter. Get them to ask her name."

"Should I know something about this person? You look more than a little intrigued by her - nothing like your normal self."

"Let's just say I met someone ... interesting ... while I was away. It may be her."

M'Lady wandered around for the rest of the day with a strange smile on her face and a rather mild disposition. Everyone in camp by then knew something unusual was in the air. The expectation, the slight edge of excitement, brought on a great deal of idle speculation, most of it completely off the mark of course. One or two of the guesses did come close, though.

The next evening, her unvoiced hopes were confirmed. Their shadow was a short, blue eyed, blond haired, black leather clad knife fighter who claimed the name Briana. That strange smile grew wide, and Camara laughed for the first time in many days.

"Verran, let her catch up. I really want to know what happens when she gets here. Don't stop her, just let her walk, or ride, into camp. Do keep her under close watch though. She may be dangerous."

Lord Verran would normally question orders as strange as those, but the look in Camara's eyes told him that there was far more to this than he knew. He would keep close tabs on the fighter, but would not interfere. The woman would be under scrutiny day and night from that point on, and if she did enter the camp, several crossbows would be cocked and ready to fire.

---

It was two evenings later, just as Lord Verran predicted, that the fighter walked into camp leading a rather ragged looking horse. She moved to the centre of camp, dropped the reins she'd been holding, and shouted.

"CAMARA! I'M HERE!"

She was definitely the centre of attention, not only because of all the rumours running around, but also because most of the troops could now see for themselves how beautiful she was. Many of the men in camp, and a few of the women, wondered what it would be like to lie with her. The only ones not watching Briana were the pickets, and they were listening carefully.

After five minutes of being ignored, she sat down. After half an hour, she hobbled her horse, took some rations from the saddlebags, and cooked her dinner over a nearby fire. After an hour, she unsaddled the horse, laid out her sleeping roll, and acted like she had every intention of staying the night. That's when Lady Camara walked into the firelight.

She had been watching Briana the entire time, of course, observing the fighter, wondering what she would do. Just seeing her brought quite a thrill to M'Lady. None but she knew of the joy she felt when this persistent lover rode into camp, or saw the lustful expressions and softer looks of tenderness chase each other across her face during that hour. When she stepped into view, however, the expression she wore was one of mild amusement.

"Well, well, well. What have we here. A persistent little mayfly."

Briana just watched M'Lady for a moment, looking neither annoyed nor amused. "Do I stay, or do I hafta follow you to the great ocean and back first?"

They stared at each other for several moments. The camp was silent, other than the sounds of the crackling fires and the leaves rustling in the wind. Not a soul moved. If they were having a test of wills, neither showed any sign of giving in. Finally, Camara spoke.

"So you say you're a fighter, a knifer. Well, we'll see about that. Taggart, let's see how she fares against you. Blunted knives, pulled blows, street rules(*). Briana, if you win, you stay, at least as a fighter. If you lose, well, I'll think about that later."

M'Lady was of two distinct minds. She really wanted Briana with her, but she allowed no camp followers with her troops. The only way for Briana to stay was if she convinced enough of her men, especially Lord Verran, that she was a valuable asset. That would not be easy, considering the level of talent she required in all her troops. She was very much concerned, though, when she recognized the same pallor and weakness of limb in the woman that she'd had while back at the inn. Apparently her travels and possible side adventures hadn't allowed her to recover properly from her deep injury, and she was still quite weak.

Soon the combatants were ready and the circle formed. Lady Camara herself gave the command to begin.

The battle was very fast, very intense, and, luckily, very short, lasting less than a minute. After a few dozen lightning fast knife strikes and hand blows, Taggart stepped back and called "death strike!" He had been dealt a blow that would be critical if it were a true fight. She had demonstrated her abilities.

Briana dropped her fake weapon, turned to Camara, and asked which tent M'Lady was using.

"Presumptuous, aren't you?"

Briana stared at her for a few seconds.

"That one." Camara pointed out her own tent.

"Do I hafta kick anyone else out?"

"No, I'll take care of that myself."

"Good, 'cause I'm a little tired right now."

She took two steps, and fainted.

"Timian, Humboldt, see to her please. Place her in my tent. Taggart, did you hold back at all in the fight?"

"No, M'Lady. She can hold her own against almost any fighter around right now. I tried to drag out the battle to take advantage of her apparent weakness, but she forced the pace. She's good."

"Thank you. I needed a true test of her fighting skills. Did I mention that she nearly died trying to save my life not too long ago? Beat up four bully boys herself, and took a knife in the back for her efforts. That's why she's still a little weak. It was a near fatal wound. Very strange girl. It was after the fight that she introduced herself, while leading me to the healer."

That caused a great deal more tongue-wagging, naturally, more-so after she told her newest stud that he'd be sleeping alone from then on. Very few seemed upset or jealous at the girl's appearance and the apparent ease she had in insinuating herself into M'Lady's graces. All knew enough of Camara's history that nothing would truly surprise them. It also helped that Briana had beaten one of the better combat men in a fair fight. There was nothing like a display of true skill to get you on the good side of a veteran campaigner.

---

It was the following morning before Briana woke. The first thing she saw was M'Lady dressing.

"'Mornin'." She looked more than half-dead, lying very still, with a greyish pallor to her skin. Her voice was soft and faint, a little difficult to hear over the background noise of the camp.

"Well. You're still alive. I was beginning to wonder there for a while." M'Lady spoke quietly as well, but in a light, playful tone of voice. Her expression showed the tenderness and affection she felt for the young lady. There was no worry present, as Timian, the healer, had said that the girl was suffering from no fresh injuries. Her friend was simply exhausted.

"I guess if you say I'm alive, then I am. I don't feel like it. Did I win?"

Still smiling, and with the same expression, Camara's voice became a little more serious.

"Depends. You beat Taggart last night in a knife fight. You're also in my tent. I guess you could call that winning. But now you've become one of my troops. Many would call that losing. What do you say?"

"Am I here in your tent permanent? Or just 'til I heal?" The look on her face was interesting. She looked like a small child who had done something wrong, and was waiting to see which parent would show up - father with the switch, or mother with a hug.

"For a while, anyway."

A wonderful smile formed on Briana's face, one that brought hidden joy to Camara's heart. The satisfaction in the blonde's voice spoke volumes. "Then I won. So, I'm in your army now? What do I do?"

Camara laughed, seeing the eagerness in the maiden's eyes. "You'll be doing nothing but eating, resting, riding a horse, and sleeping for the next few sevendays."

"Sounds boring. Don't I get to do anything interesting? And what's this nonsense about me riding one of those monstrosities?"

"Orders. From me. As your commander. You're too weak to be of any use as a fighter or an operative right now. Until your strength returns, you are under the healer's orders, and he says rest, ride, eat, and sleep. Nothing else. Especially nothing 'interesting'"

"Oh. Does that mean I hafta sleep alone?" Some of the little girl showed through in her eyes and her voice.

"Not unless the gods themselves interfere! I'm under orders not to tire you out too much, though. So rest up. You'll need it!"

Camara sat on the bed and leaned over to collect her lover into her arms. Long was that kiss, both deep and passionate, sealing the bond that joined the two of them. That seal would last until Briana fell in love with another. Their bond would last beyond death itself.

The Bard:

< He pauses for a couple of minutes, allowing the emotions of his audience to return to normal. Then he continues. >

That is the full tale of the meeting of Briana and Camara. They shared a number of great adventures, and some not-so-great ones as well, during the year they were lovers. But, those are tales for later. For now, I believe my voice needs a short rest and some liquid refreshment before I continue on with my original epic.

---

* Author's notes

A twice caught thief. If a thief is caught and convicted of stealing from a noble or rich merchant, the magister enforces the legal punishment - removal of one hand. A second conviction leads to the saying 'as rare as the fingers on a twice-caught thief', since said thief no longer has anywhere for fingers to attach.

Street rules means no rules. Blunted knives and pulled blows allow for no critical or permanently damaging injuries. Broken bones, concussions, even bleeding wounds are common in this type of fight. Combatants, if they receive what normally would be a telling or critical blow, are supposed to step back and declare their loss. Sometimes they do.

 

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