War of the Gypsy

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Wisps of clouds across a broad blue sky

This is where the tiny Oread live and die.

Purple mountains at your back; fertile valley at your feet

Work of your hands, bounty of your harvest; all is complete.

Laughter of your children float on the breeze

Warm hearths glow even under a deep freeze.

To serve is the call of the goddess

So our knee will always bow to the Empress.

—Oread; Author Unknown

Rhiannon leaned against the rough bark of a naked oak. She was breathing heavily, and sweat streamed down her face despite the icy wind. The tip of her sword rested on the frozen earth as she sucked in the crisp air. She wiped the sweat from her face and watched as Tim sparred with a young Archigos boy around his own age, named Xev. The boys had gotten along well, and he provided Tim with some much-needed camaraderie. Tim’s new Venturien sword glinted in the sunlight showing small figures of animals and twisted Venturien symbols from hilt to tip.

Shih ‘Ni sheathed his sword. “You need a break?”

She gave him a withering look, sheathed her sword and walked over and sat down on a cold, stone bench. She dipped a bright copper cup into a bucket of water that was sitting on the bench and took a long drink, then handed it to Shih ‘Ni who came and sat down next to her. “We’ve been doing this for weeks, when does it get easier?”

“Well, for as bad of shape as you’re in, this is going to take some time.”

“Thanks for your confidence!” She grabbed the cup from him and dumped the rest of the water over his head.

He yelped and jumped up quickly. “That’s freezing!” he protested, wiping the cold water from his leather tunic. After taking the cup back, he sat down next to her again. “You’ll be ready for battle soon enough, Rhiannon.”

“Not soon enough.” She shook her head. “I have so much that I still need to learn before I can help Flath and the rebellion rid Beaynid of Baobh,” she looked over at Shih Ni. “So, I must learn quickly.” She looked down at her hands. Her hands were wrapped in leather strips to give her a better grip and to lend her blistered palms some protection. She slowly turned her hands over noticing how worn they looked. The cloth strips were stained brown with streaks of blood.

“Already making plans to go to war? And you’re not even officially the empress yet!” Shih Ni gave her a sideways glance.

“Of course I’m making plans, most of the men who were fighting with the rebellion were slaughtered or seriously injured by Yellow Island. Their only hope lies with us.”

“And why should it concern us? Do you think the Seuns would come to our aid if it were us who were in trouble? I think not! Those self-righteous pale-skins would just as soon spit in our faces!”

“Well, maybe it’s time for things to change.” Rhiannon looked down at her leather boots, black with dampness.

“You will have better luck moving a mountain. Do you think your warriors will just follow you into a battle to help a people who we despise? You can’t change generations of hate and distrust with the snap of your fingers, Rhiannon.” His tone softened. “You’ll have to give your warriors a better reason to follow you than just to help out a man you fancy.”

Rhiannon looked up, fury bubbled inside her. “Baobh murdered my mother and is holding my father captive! Is that a good enough reason?”

Before Shih Ni could answer, they spotted Shankee and another woman approaching, heads bent in discussion. Shankee’s youngest child, Tam ‘Lyn, followed close behind his mother and was trailed by a small, fluffy black and white dog. He was six-years-old and the very image of his mother. He stopped in momentary awe of a man and woman sparring. His little eyes grew wide as the warriors moved, grunting with effort, the sing of steel ringing out into the cold air. Discovering his mother walking away, he turned and ran after her as fast as his short, little legs could take him.

Shih ‘Ni and Rhiannon stood and bowed when Shankee stopped before them. Tim had appeared at her shoulder, ready to offer his services as her translator. Shih ‘Ni could have easily translated, of course, but Tim did not want to relinquish his job.

“Good morning, cousin.” Shankee smiled at her as Tim interpreted.

Rhiannon beamed, and something stirred in her heart at the family sentiment. She was glad that Shankee was no longer angry with her about how Rhiannon spoke to the King of Yellow Island. “Good morning, Shankee.”

“This is Kyia. I have asked her to tutor you in Venn. I think the lessons will be good for you and will help you remember your language.” Tim motioned to the young woman standing next to Shankee. He went on translating Shankee’s words, turning them into something recognizable. “She can also instruct you in the ways of royalty and remind you of our culture as well as introduce you to other women,” Shankee glanced over to Shih ‘Ni, and then to Tim and Xev. “I think it will be good for you to have some female friends to confide in.”

“Thank you, Shankee,” Rhiannon replied.

“I look forward to our first lesson. How is tonight after we eat?” Kyia asked in Jurian and smiled.

“After dinner will be fine.”

“Good, I’ll meet you in the solarium at the western pond near the panther bench.”

With that, Kyia bowed to Rhiannon, and the two women left—Shankee’s son running to keep up with the women who quietly spoke, paying no heed to his effort.

Rhiannon turned around to head back to their sparring box but stopped when she noticed a strange look on Shih ‘Ni’s face. “Do you know Kyia?”

“We were betrothed,” he stated, then walked into the sparring box and unsheathed his sword. “Are you going to continue your training so that we may take over the world, or are you still too tired to carry on?” he asked sarcastically.

That evening Rhiannon sat at her writing table. A petite, white-haired woman and a slightly taller man of equal complexion and features had brought up her dinner and a bottle of dark red wine. Many nights she and Tim ate in the grand dining room with Shankee, her family, and their various guests—however, she was tired and sore and did not feel like socializing on this night. She picked at her food and finished her third glass of wine, then turned her attention to the half-written letter that laid out before her. Xev had promised that his brother could travel to Beaynid and deliver the letter to Flath. Rhiannon was skeptical because the road across the Vel’ Kur Mountains was impassible this time of year. However, she decided to give him a chance when he said his brother would be traveling out of Turr’ah by ship.

Looking down at the scrolling ink drying on the paper like a trail of black blood on a sheet of ice, she turned to the small pile of crumpled up attempts she had made earlier and shook her head. She asked if he was well and how his men were faring. She inquired about the status of the rebellion and then told him of what she had been doing over the long months since he had left.

What she wanted to say, however, was that she missed him terribly and wanted to see him. She wanted to ask him to come and rule with her in Màrrach after Baobh’s defeat. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. However, those things were best left unsaid until they could be spoken face to face.

Finally, she finished the letter with a reassurance that as soon as she took control of Màrrach, she and her warriors would travel to Beaynid to aid in the rebellion. She begged him to be careful then signed her name with love. Carefully, she folded the letter and placed it into the envelope, then sealed it with hot wax. The royal seal of Màrrach stared back at her from the envelope. An unexplainable feeling of pride washed over her as she marveled at the intricacies of the little silver stamp. Suddenly she realized, somewhere, in the middle of what had started out to be the bleakest part of her life, she had made the decision to stay. Like the soft petals of a fading flower, she had dropped the memories of a Montana ranch, broken promises, and an uncomplicated life.

The crackling of the fireplace brought Rhiannon back to the moment. It was time for her first lesson with Kyia. Rhiannon made her way down to the solarium as Luna ran on ahead and the pax silently padded along next to her. She had affectionately named her Etâhpe'o-poeso, which means big cat in the old speech of the native people of Montana. She called the cat Poeso for short. The winter sun had sunk into darkness, and brilliant ice chipped stars twinkled in the northern sky. The world outside was painted in the sparkle of frozen fields and barren trees, but inside, the everlasting spring of the colossal solarium park continued the rituals of birth, growth, and bloom.

Just as she’d said, Kyia was waiting on the bench next to the western pond. Dappled rosewood was magnificently carved into the life-sized forms of crouching panthers—their emerald eyes sparkled in the fluttering torchlight. She playfully rubbed Luna’s head. The she-wolf had run up to her and rested her head in the woman’s lap.

“It’s good to see you, Lady Rhiannon.” Kyia jumped up and dipped into a clumsy bow.

“Thank you,” she replied, feeling awkward, and then sat.

Like all other warriors, Kyia wore tiny beaded braids within her loose hair. Kyia’s typical Archigos features were softened with plump cheeks and a slightly shorter, more petite frame. Most of the other Archigos women she had seen were tall and muscular with sharp angular faces—the men even more so. Kyia, however, had a certain softness to her. Her curves were plump, and her hands were delicate and her fingers, slender.

Even her cinnamon brown eyes were not as the inky dark pools of most she had seen in Màrrach.

“Are you ready to begin your lesson, empress?”

“I don’t feel much like an empress,” Rhiannon replied.

“Empress Shankee asked me to help you remember our tongue and our customs. You were born an empress, milady, you don’t need anyone to show you how.”

“I don’t know if I will ever be good enough to rule Màrrach.” She looked down at her slippered feet. “I certainly don’t know how to handle a sword too well.” Rhiannon laughed awkwardly.

“Empress Shankee has told me you are making fine progress. Archigos children start learning very early on the techniques of warfare and weaponry, and even how to command a war-horse. It takes a long time to make an Archigos warrior, milady.”

“I don’t have that much time.” Rhiannon started stroking the soft fur atop Poeso’s head.

Kyia laughed softly. “Why are you in such a hurry? You have a lifetime ahead of you.”

“Shankee hasn’t told you?”

“That you wish to aid the rebellion? Yes, she has told me that you approached her and told her of your plans.”

“Kyia, Baobh has my father. I don’t even know if he’s still alive, but if he is, I must free him. Surely you understand.”

Kyia took a deep breath. “Yes, milady, I do understand your desire to free your father. But he is not an Archigos, nor is he the mate of an Archigos empress any longer. I don’t know if you will be successful in convincing our warriors to leave their homes and children—possibly never to return—just to free an outlander.”

“He was the husband of their empress, and he’s my father, not quite someone of no importance.” A tear slipped down Rhiannon’s cheek. “I will go with or without the help of my people. Did Shankee tell you that also?”

“Yes, she did.” Kyia rested her warm hand on top of Rhiannon’s. “You have a strong conviction, milady. Let’s just hope it will be stronger than the hatred that burns in the hearts of our people.”

Rhiannon looked out over the still water, and neither spoke for a long time. She wondered what her mother would have done. She knew her father must have had some kind of protection or position of importance while her mother still lived, but if what Kyia said was true, he was no longer considered an Archigos—even if only by association—thus, the Archigos were under no obligation to rescue him. She had hoped that the Archigos would be the answer to freeing her father. Now she doubted they would aid her in her personal crusade.