[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]say."
"Because I am a woman.... "Scheiharia sobbed, frustrated.
"I've as much reason as you to pursue them."
"And the Diangari?"
"I will face that too! I will."
"That little dagger of yours," Chimquar said scornfully.
"Against a dozen armed myn? How much aid will it be against a creature of the
Darkness?"
A petulant bravado transformed Scheiharia's face. "As much as your sword!" She
flung the words with a toss of her head.
"What do you think you are? A Sharani warrior?"
Chimquar's annoyance increased.
"What would you know of the Sharani?" Scheiharia snapped.
Her insolence triggered Chimquar's anger. She slapped
Scheiharia across the face. "More than you'll ever know!"
Chimquar walked off, already regretting the blow. Despite all the teachings of
the Euzadi seer, Azkani, anger still came too easily to Chimquar, remaining
the bane of her existence. She knew she could have found a less violent way of
silencing
Scheiharia.
"Chimquar." Scheiharia's voice came softly at her side. "I
am sorry, Chimquar."
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88
The warrior halted, gazing at Scheiharia. Their eyes met.
"I know the Sharani well," Chimquar broke the brief silence, her voice low,
controlled. "I followed the Breesya's banner in the Great War." That was not
entirely true, for Chimquar had led as an ally, not as a follower.
"Then it's true, what they say. You're a half-breed?"
"It is true." Chimquar moved to take the reins of her horse. She drew a deep
breath, letting her eyes scan the plains. "Scheiharia," she said, without
looking at the woman.
"You first." Chimquar swung her onto the mare.
That surprised Scheiharia, a Euzadi man never allowed a woman to ride his
warhorse. "Where are you from?"
Chimquar led the horse. "A small kingdom near Shaurone."
"What is it called?"
Chimquar did not answer immediately. "I'm in exile. I
cannot risk word of me getting out."
"You're an outlaw? The half-breed son of the High Seer is an outlaw?"
"Of sorts." Chimquar grinned, a teasing light coming into her dark eyes as her
mood shifted. "Cheated of my estates and forced into hiding."
Scheiharia looked closely at the warrior, uncertain whether
Chimquar was jesting or not.
Chimquar gave her a guilty grin, making a lie of her honest words.
Scheiharia turned her head away, haughtily ignoring the warrior. But that did
not last.
* * * *
In the Darkness, Hunting: Tales of Chimquar the Lionhawk by Janrae Frank
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On their third evening, Scheiharia watched Chimquar apply a small whetstone to
her stilettos. The Euzadi woman's eyes strayed to the silver unicorn the
warrior wore, then to her face. Scheiharia's eyes lingered, taking in each
feature of
Chimquar's lean face and liking what she saw, even the skin worn to leather by
sun and weather. The narrow scar that ran from the warrior's cheek to the
jawbone enhanced the image
Scheiharia had heard of the warrior before they met. She smiled at the thought
that it was Chimquar Takara who had rescued her.
She had overheard the warriors of her tribe saying that
Maruic's War-Leader was the strongest on the plains. A man of honor, they
said, one who never broke his word. Scheiharia ran down the list of things she
had heard about him, realizing that Chimquar had never been known to accept
any of the women offered him. Scheiharia felt certain none of them could have
been as beautiful as herself. She rose and went to
Chimquar, nestling against the warrior and managing to distract her from her
work. Scheiharia smiled a languid suggestion as their eyes met.
Chimquar stiffened. "Don't." She sheathed her blades and rose with the
whetstone in hand. This had happened before;
Euzadi women were attracted to the man they believed her to be. Before,
Chimquar had handled those women easily, with chilly disdain but the distress
of Maruic's last actions were still too fresh, the wounds unhealed. Too many
emotions were still too near the surface of Chimquar's mind and heart. She
studied the sunset, the way its blaze made silhouettes of the
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90
scattered mesquite trees and transformed the familiar images into foreign
ones.
The past days with Scheiharia had been pleasant; they had both been talkative.
Chimquar now regretted her openness with the woman. Scheiharia had drawn too
close to Chimquar.
Her exile never hurt until she let herself start thinking about her homeland,
her family. She wanted to glance at
Scheiharia, but restrained herself, knowing that would only encourage the
woman. It had been years since Chimquar had spoken to a woman as she had to
Scheiharia, longer still since she had spoken of her homeland to anyone.
Scheiharia sat in silence, all her fantasies scattered by the rejection. "What
have I done?" she asked in a small voice.
"Nothing, yet " Chimquar dropped the whetstone into her saddlebag and rubbed
her horse's neck, fondled its ears.
"Then why?" Scheiharia's voice broke on the second word.
"You have been so pleasant so "
"Don't offer yourself to me." Chimquar's voice grew soft and troubled.
Scheiharia rose and went to her. "Why? Am I not beautiful? How do I offend
you?"
Chimquar turned from her horse to face the woman. "Most men would give an arm
to possess you."
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