True Warriors Sing by Rowan Erlking (classic book list .TXT) 📕

He looked tired at her. “You didn’t get that?”

She shrugged.

Sighing, Ljev said, “The one who had the warriors killed at the tower is some baron. He’s been taxing them more than half of what they can produce. It is a heavy tax. Apparently this baron has a small army, of which I think we killed about eight of already.”

“You eight Baron’s men, kills?” The farmer rose from his seat.

Ljev nodded. “You we here, hide. We no says.”

The farmer nodded more vigorously, but he walked over to his oilpaper window, sliding it to the side to look out.

“But what did he say after that?” LjuBa asked, pulling Ljev’s attention back onto her. “Did I understand right that he’s letting us stay in here after all?”

Nodding, Ljev rose to peek out also. “Yes. In exchange for us informing the king about what is going on here.”

“We plan to do that anyway,” LjuBa murmured.

The farmer’s wife suddenly tucked a warm mug filled with a strange smelling drink into her hands. She gestured for LjuBa to bring it to her mouth. Sighing, LjuBa sipped it. The taste was bitter and sweet at the same time. Blinking at the opaque brown liquid, LjuBa shrugged, then took another sip.

“We early, leaves,” Ljev whispered to the farmer.

With gratitude, the farmer nodded, sliding the oilpaper window shut.

LjuBa’s senses felt numb. It was strange so surrounded by the unfamiliar once more, from language to rhythm. It overloaded her senses. The sights of bright light from the glowing oil lamps reflected against flattened brass, the white washed walls, the smells of a strange herb that nearly stung her sinuses—cool yet hot mingled with warm cinnamon and that unusual brew in her cup. The sounds of the wind rushing past the shaking windows and doors made her instinctively rise and sing the calming song that tightened down all things so that the wind was nothing but a whisper outside, also calming her heart.

The farmer’s wife stared at her, murmuring, “Magician.”

LjuBa’s eyes whipped over in a glare. Ljev stepped between them, pulling LjuBa back, saying to the woman, “No. A song.”

But the farmer leaned back, regarding them, his eyes meeting Ljev’s with an exchange that LjuBa recognized as one of silent understanding. What they understood, she did not know, but Ljev guided her back to her seat, scooting over the plate that the farmer’s wife had just barely set down.

“Have some dinner,” he said.

He turned to go, clearly already having eaten his fill before she had arrived, but LjuBa grabbed his wrist. Ljev turned to look back, blinking at her.

“I…” LjuBa felt her face flush.

Ljev waited.

Clenching her teeth, LjuBa looked down. “I’m sorry I shouted at you…before.”

She could feel the tension in his arm relax at little. When she opened her eyes, he was squatting in front of her, peering into her face.

“MiKial’s daughter, I’m sure you are overwrought right now with worry for your father,” he said. “I know all of this must be overwhelming, but I am begging you to open your horizons just a little. You want me to be a warrior. Well, I want you to become a woman who sees the people before her as people—and not as barbarians.”

LjuBa leaned back, suddenly flustered. He was just an inch from her and his gaze was so earnest. She didn’t know whether to slap him or to…. She stopped her thoughts right there, flustering more. She could not go there. Her mind should not.

Averting her eyes to the farmer’s wife who stood about three feet away. Her deep brown gaze had the same earnest hopeful look as Ljev’s, on the air a silent whisper begging for her to trust these people like she would have her aunt back home. LjuBa shuddered, pulling her arms in.

Ljev stood up. “Think about it. I’m not asking you to betray the KiTai. I’m just saying this world is a bigger place than what you know right now, and not everyone is our enemy.”

He walked away. LjuBa watched him, unable to speak. For a pitiful squire, he looked so much like a man.

The farmer’s wife dug out two bedrolls from her deep closets, laying them down in the adjoining room where LjuBa noticed a large stone hearth with a cooling fire, braided rugs, and wide wooden chairs scooted up at an unusual looking table. She also noticed a young man peeking in, and then retreating with whispers to others that apparently were also hiding in the doorway. Ljev was talking with the farmer with a slight cringe, his voice low as he gestured to the two fluffy mattresses. She heard the farmer chuckle then talk to his wife.

“Something between, need,” he said.

The children hiding in the doorway snickered. LjuBa noticed a girl, barely twelve years old with her braided brown hair in a kerchief peering out at her, blinking bashfully. Then the girl bravely stepped into the room.

“You hair red, why?” the girl asked. “Like fire heat, burning.”

LjuBa blinked, glancing back to Ljev who set his hand over his mouth to hide a smile. Taken aback, LjuBa looked back at the girl, wondering if anything she said would be understood. “I…I was born with it.”

“I touch, can?” The girl reached out.

Looking to Ljev again, LjuBa noticed the farmer watching now. Ljev nodded, not hiding his smile any more. “Go ahead.”

Sighing, LjuBa leaned in.

The farmer relaxed, leaning against the doorjamb to watch his child stroke LjuBa’s straight red hair.

“So pretty,” the girl murmured, a faint smile appearing.

LjuBa shook her head. “No. I am not pretty.”

But the girl kept stroking her hair, and it felt nice, sending warm shivers down her arms.

“She’s not lying, Miss,” Ljev said.

Flushing, LjuBa stepped out of reach. “I’m not pretty. She doesn’t know pretty. K’sjuSha’s pretty.”

Ljev turned his eyes to the ceiling. “K’sjuSha’s not here, and that girl is admiring your hair. Accept that.”

“K’soosha, who is?” the farmer asked, leaning to Ljev’s ear.

“Older sister,” Ljev whispered back.

“Oh.” The farmer nodded. “Jealous.”

LjuBa stomped her foot, marching up to Ljev. “I’m not jealous!”

Ljev looked at her dryly, folding his arms.

“I’m just being honest,” LjuBa murmured, cowed now.

Ljev leaned into her face. “Just because your sister is an outstanding beauty doesn’t make you not beautiful. All the daughters of MiKial are beauties.”

That was not what she had expected, and LjuBa pulled back.

Ljev nodded. “You have got to stop thinking in terms of superior and inferior.”

“All flowers beautiful, are,” the farmer’s wife said, pulling a chair between the two rolled out mattresses. She patted her daughter’s head and then beckoned her other children out. LjuBa saw six children, two boys and four girls. In a way, seeing those four girls made her think of her own family.

How were SoFija and S’vjeTa? Running off like that without notice really was rash. Undoubtedly they were worried. No, more likely out of their minds with worry with how they fussed over her and her heart. Maybe Ljev was right. Maybe she didn’t think enough about what others felt. Maybe she had gotten it all wrong.

Gazing up at Ljev, LjuBa set a hand to her head.

He rushed over. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head. “No. We need to find my father fast and go home.”

Ljev nodded.

They slept that night rather soundly. With the winds hardly rattling the windows, there was a feeling of safety over the home. And when the morning came and Ljev gently shook LjuBa awake, whispering that they ought to clear out before the sun rose, LjuBa’s heart ached with a different sensation. In a way, she really didn’t want to go.

The entire family was up early. There was already breakfast on the table, the older children eating quickly as they were already dressed for work. The wife handed Ljev two wrapped kerchiefs, whispering to him to take care of LjuBa. She then reached in, pulling LjuBa close with surprising strength, kissing her on her forehead then hugging her.

“Your father, find. King for us, about Baron, tell. Safe, go.”

Somehow understanding that, LjuBa nodded, though she blinked to Ljev wondering why these people were acting so familiar all of a sudden. She took a step back, then one to the door.

Ljev nodded, tucking his parcels under one arm. “We promise. Help, king will send.”

The oldest daughter hopped up, rushing to her mother’s side yet peering after LjuBa who stared back. Then a funny notion came into LjuBa’s head. She chuckled, shrugging. Then she took her knife out of its sheath, which made the wife step back a smidgen, pulling her daughter closer, but LjuBa took hold of a lock of her own hair and cut off a piece.

“For you.” She held it out to the daughter.

Blinking, the girl then immediately reached out, clutching the bunched strands of dark red. The mother smiled.

“Safe, go,” the woman said again.

Nodding, LjuBa and Ljev walked out the door.

The farmer met them outside. He pointed to the eastern sky where the color was returning, just below the constellation of the fish that represented Temis, the eastern god. “There, go. NuLi, no go. Baron men there, have. Dangerous.”

“And the bandits?” Ljev asked.

Nodding, the farmer said, “You find. They from many, steal. Trouble, traders have. Farmers also. Between Baron and bandits, I many crops, lose.”

Ljev sighed, his usual reluctance returning. “I understand. Us punish them, want.”

“Yes.” The farmer then slapped Ljev on the back. “Exactly. Now go.”

And go, they did, Ljev hissing to LjuBa to stick close to him while he led them through the trees to the hedgerows. They would have to enter a neighbor’s yard to get to where they were going. The farmer had pointed out on their map the night before the most likely place in the river valley where the bandits could be camping. The farmer had also informed him that the bandits had horses and dangerous weapons, especially expressing his concern for LjuBa’s safety. Luckily, LjuBa had not overheard that.

When the sun had at last crested the horizon, they passed well out from the skirts of NuLi Village. From there they stepped onto the road of pressed rock and sand. It was one of the old roads back when KiTai ruled the entire northern continent. It didn’t connect with the main road anymore, and most of it was now encroached with grass and torn apart with flowering weeds, mostly morning glory though there were thistles here and there. LjuBa didn’t say much as she walked, her ears listening to the more subtle music of the rustling grasses, the scampering fowl and the floating high clouds as if it all were part of one great ocean, surging in waves and currents.

“There,” Ljev whispered, suddenly pointing down towards a narrow brook at the bottom of the valley.

LjuBa looked. It was still somewhat far off, but she could see a pair of horses and what looked like a handful of men in rough clothing. Their coloring was similar to the people of the provenance, but they wore more darkly tanned leather studded with steel and stones. Brutish men. She also noticed a cart half covered with what looked like stolen merchandise.

She lightly unsheathed her sword, whispering. “We take them out now.”

Ljev set a hand on her sword hand, stopping her. She whipped her eyes to his face, clenching her