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ONE GOOD WOMAN
By
Susan Kelley
© copyright by Susan Kelley, November 2009
Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, May 2009
ISBN 978-1-60394-386-4
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Historical Foreword
Often history takes an unexpected turn. A discovery is made that is so incredible it completely changes the path of man's developing society. In the most dramatic twists, that important discovery is made completely by accident.
The expanding society of Solonia grew to encompass the Realm and Parlania. Some men and women of adventure rejoiced in the fragile peace spreading across the lands though some small part of them mourned the end of their warrior life.
As Solonia and her allies settled into peaceful coexistence, a tragic accident interrupted their steady march toward modernization. But what seemed a horrible loss turned out to be the hand of fate insuring a discovery that might otherwise have gone unnoticed for many lifetimes. Two people would stumble upon a hidden world that would shake everything their people believed about the hierarchy of living beings in the grand scheme of existence.
Warriors as often as other people see the world in clear divisions of black and white, good and evil. Perhaps one of the most difficult lessons for battle veterans to learn is the parts of the world that are shades of gray.
Completely by accident, two bloodied warriors encounter a situation that requires they rethink everything they've believed and raise questions as to the validity of their mission. Sometimes bravery isn't swinging a sword but is instead holding back the killing blow. Courage takes all forms and some of those manifest themselves not in physical action but in the taking of an emotional risk. Putting one's life on the line is often easier than risking one's heart.
Peace often teeters on the strength of one side's weapons, but threat alone can not create a lasting peace. The reaching out of a hand, the offering of trust and most of all, forgiveness of past wrongs, these things alone will give birth to everlasting tranquility.
The most difficult of those components to reach is forgiveness. Some transgressions are so grievous that the victim is damaged in body and soul. Only those of deep courage will find the reservoir of faith needed for forgiveness. Men of spiritual learning call that grace.
One damaged, incredibly brave woman and one driven, heroic man found the grace in their own souls and changed their world forever.
Maria Celebria
Official Historian for the University of Parlania
1528 P.A. (post asteroid)
Prologue
"It's coming. Push, you lazy tart."
Sweat matted Bab's short hair, but she found the strength to grunt and push. The birth was going quickly and her friend was only trying to help her with her stern orders.
"It's a little one." Rena knelt between her legs and waited to catch the baby.
Bab could not find any breath to comment. Another contraction ripped through her. She strained and bore down with another grunt. The baby slid from her body with sudden ease even though it was her first and should have been more difficult.
Rena turned away with her burden and placed it in the waiting hide. She used another strip of soft doeskin and swiped at the child's mouth. A thin protest rose from the tiny thing and allowed Bab to relax.
She pushed again and expelled the afterbirth. Earlier she'd set a bowl of water and more cleaning hides by her side in preparation. She soaked them now to clean herself as best as she could and then moved to her sleeping pallet.
Rena made small sounds of comfort to the infant as she cleaned it. The two of them shared this little house and had been best friends since their own births many seasons ago. In another turn of the moon, Rena would birth her own first child and Bab would help her.
Rena bundled the little one and carried it to her with a strange look on her face.
"Is something wrong?" Bab already loved her baby though she'd loathed the making of it. And for the first few months after this birth, she wouldn't have to suffer Jak's and Hop's vicious mounting.
"You have a girl," Rena said with a hesitation to match her expression. "You have an angel."
Bab smiled at her friend's whimsy. They often shared their dreams and imaginations about the angels drawn in the picture books. Their single book was their most prized possession. The beautiful beings in them looked so real, it was easy to believe they might really exist in some heavenly world. Bab never told Rena, but she often sent a special, silent plea to the angels. She wished for something better for her children than a life of hardship and suffering.
Her daughter was so tiny and light in her arms. Even her nearly hairless head looked too small. Was the child sick? Her heart plunged and she gently pulled aside the soft, brown hide to look on her dear face. She saw a dream.
"Angel." The little face peered up at her with an intelligence of someone much older. Her little face was red and round, but still Bab could see her child would not have the broad, thick brow of her mother and father. How could the baby breathe through such a tiny nose? Her fingers, so thin and long, batted at the air. Where was her body hair? Except for the white fluff on top of her head, Angel's little pink body was bare. No, she did have fine white eyebrows and a hint of lashes.
"Bab, how did you do it?" Rena squatted beside her. She poked at Angel's smooth skin. "How did you birth an angel?"
"Get the book."
Rena retrieved it from its special place on the shelf they'd decorated with shells and shiny stones. With due caution for its fragile sheets, she flipped the pages to their favorite picture. Though faded by time and handling, they could see the lovely blonde woman holding a baby. The picture could have been of Angel.
Bab touched the woman's face lightly with one finger. She never tired of looking at the stranger's fine facial features, thin body and perfectly placed hair. The man standing beside the woman looked weak and puny compared to Jak and Hop, but he was handsome beyond imagination. Except now maybe they should imagine him to be real. Dark hair curled around his ears but none covered his chin or upper lip. Even in the flat, lifeless picture, he looked graceful. Angelic. Kind.
"How did I get an angel?"
Rena wrapped her arms around them both. "Because you're the kindest, gentlest soul in the world."
They fussed over the baby and wondered over her perfect, fragile body. Again and again they compared her features to the picture.
Shouts and growls from outside their door distracted them.
"Get your lazy ass out here and catch some fish." Jak's nasty voice startled Angel, but Bab held her close for comfort.
"I can't let Jak see her." The big man was likely the child's father but that wouldn't stop the beast from beating her to obedience as she grew and then someday mount her like the animal he was.
"Or Hop." Rena slinked to the doorway and peered around the edge. "Jak is dragging poor Maddi to his shack. Hop is right with him."
Little Maddi was newly come to her womanhood and one of the prime males was surely her father. The two big men shared all the females and restricted the smaller men from mounting the women.
Maddi's protests heightened to short shrieks. Bab shivered in remembrance of her first few times with Jak and Hop. She hadn't known mating could be pleasant until young Tam charmed her onto her back last season.
Angel cried out and thrashed her thin arms. Her stick-like fingers fisted into tight balls. Bab offered her nipple, desperate to keep the child silent. For such a dainty mouth, Angel sucked with enthusiasm.
"I can't let Angel grow up to that."
Rena rejoined her on the floor. She played with the feathery bits of hair sticking up like wind-tossed weeds on the baby's head. Her mouth curved in a sad smile. "I don't think she'll survive long, sweetie. The first time Jak hits her with his fist for crying, he'll crush her little head."
"I have to protect her."
"How?" Rena touched her own swollen belly. "You can stay in here for a few days. I'll tell everyone you're too big to move."
The best thing about being pregnant was the inattention of the males once a woman's stomach pushed far out in front.
"Angel will get stronger with some good feeding." Bab thought furiously, but the birth had exhausted her. She wanted to nap. "I'll run away and live on my own."
"How will you feed yourself? And they'll find you and bring you back. Jak will whip you raw and who knows what he'll do to Angel."
They'd both seen Jak throw Leddi's little boy against the mountainside and crush his little body. The baby had mewed for half a day before breathing his last.
"We'll collect food to last us a while and take some fishing line for an emergency." That idea turned her stomach, but the village often turned to fish in the spring when their winter stores ran low. None of them liked eating flesh, but it was sometimes necessary. Already the entire village ate fish every other day to make their nuts and grains last until the harvest. "The early berries will ripen in a couple of ten days and we might find some nuts that haven't rotted in the wet season."
"We?" Rena scrunched her thick brow. "Do you think I should go too?"
Bab took her friend's hand. "We'll go far away and make our own tribe with no men in it. We'll be free people and our babies will grow up safe."
Jak howled, the sound muffled by their walls, like he always did when he spilled his seed into a woman. Rena shivered.
"All right. I'll bring food to you and take a little extra each time. Tomorrow you start sewing some hides into bags. We'll have a lot to carry. I think I have at least one more turn of the moon before my baby comes."
"The spring rains are nearly done. We'll have all summer to store food before the cold season." Excitement and hope blossomed in Bab's chest. "We can decide when we eat and sleep. All our food will go to feed us instead of those lazy men."
Rena touched Angel. The baby slept, her mouth still clamped to Bab's nipple. "We'll make something better for our children."
Bab dozed, her dreams replaying their plans. But in her sleeping thoughts she was as pretty as the picture woman and a tall dark-haired man smiled at her.
Chapter One
Cara strained to see across the fog-shrouded river. The Watara ran fast and dirty, carrying more than its usual odor of mud. Three thick ropes stretched into misty oblivion on the other bank. She'd watched Zeke Oman and two other Realm soldiers walk across the river using them the previous evening. The hell if she would ever trust her life to those lengths of woven hemp Zeke dared call a bridge.
"Can you see them yet?" Daniel Sasson joined her along the bank. He held a steaming, fragrant mug of honey-sweetened tea.
Her hand dropped to her sword from habit rather than actual fear. She didn't trust the Parlanian man of course, but she knew she could kill him with relative ease. There was no need to fear him. "They wouldn't be here yet."
"Those messenger pigeons of Zeke's are a wonder, aren't they?"
She shrugged and hoped he would take the hint and go away.
"I'm looking forward to seeing your home of Solonia. I'm sure you miss it, but your assistance in Parlania has been invaluable."
"I wasn't there to help you. My job was to protect Deomo Sinda."
He fell silent as if finally comprehending her dislike of his company, but he didn't leave.
"Cara, I know I've done nothing to cause this distrust and hatred you carry toward me and all Parlanians, but I respect your feelings. We've earned such suspicions. Perhaps with people like you to always remind us we can assure that no future generations endure such depravations." His boots swished through the dew-soaked grass as he returned to their camp under a grove of trees. Who cared whether he thought he deserved her scorn or not? Arrogant bastard.
But she tolerated his presence, worked with him and other slimy Parlanians, if only so she wouldn't disappoint Juston Steele. Three Realm soldiers besides Zeke had remained in Parlania with her while the settlement worked at rebuilding itself. Much of Zeke's work had centered on the university and its valuable contents.
Cara hated Parlania. She hated the blonde-haired men, the hollow-eyed women, the parentless children and the toll their pain took on her. For all intents, Roth Celebria and his Realm wife, Claudia Turan, ruled the newly freed kingdom. There was so much work to be done rebuilding their society and helping the people heal as best as they could. When she could arrange it, she took guard duty over the former leader and his henchmen as they worked the spring planting or repaired buildings in the city. Seeing all those strong, once proud men wearing the slave collars always cheered her. Still she wanted her duty here in Parlania to be done.
Today was another test of her personal fortitude, but of another kind. Today she must see Captain Brady Gellot of the Realm. It'd been more than half a year since she'd watched him ride away from Parlania. The tall, dark-haired warrior of the Realm always wrapped her in tangles.
Her warrior self trusted him to fight beside her. She knew he was as good a man as any of that species could be, and often she'd enjoyed conversations with him. But sometimes his blue eyes looked too deeply into hers with that direct, unflinching honesty of a Realm warrior. She could admire his lithe, graceful body as he rode his horse or engaged in swordplay, but to look on him as anything more frightened her.
The admission stung her, but there it was. It had taken nearly a year among the poor, broken women of Parlania to admit to herself this crippling fear of men. She used rudeness to keep men at an emotional and physical distance. Her impolite ways had turned Brady's friendship to ashes right before they fought the battle in Parlania. And therein lay her dread and anticipation of this day.
She didn't want to see the coolness in Brady's eyes as at their last parting. But she did want to gaze upon his handsome face and hear his deep voice that could be so warm and full of humor. It was so confusing.
She didn't want a man in her life. Did she? She'd seen couples locked in romantic embraces, but she couldn't imagine allowing a man to hold her so intimately. Not even Brady Gellot.
And what did she know of men and their whims? A man like Brady could have his choice of willing, whole women. Why would he even think twice of a woman like her even if he didn't know her horrid history? Then again, hadn't he looked at her with a special interest all those months ago? No, he deserved a normal, healthy woman.
Shadows of movement stirred the fog across the river. The sun had risen more than two hours ago though it had made little dent in clearing the thick mists. Brady was bringing three warriors to replace the Realm men who'd been trapped here for the long months of the rainy winter and the early spring. The men were as eager to return to their families and home as she was. But until Juston sent another to take over the duty as protector to the Deomo, she would remain without complaint in cursed Parlania. Unfortunately, today that meant playing host to Brady Gellot.
Brady was to spend only two days in Parlania, gathering a report and exchanging news, before returning to the Realm with the men. She wouldn't have to tolerate the discomfort of his presence for long.
She recognized Zeke in the moody swirls of the mists as he led someone to the bridge on the other side. Even with the fog and distance, she knew it was Brady. He stood a bit taller than Zeke and was much wider through the shoulders. His lean hips moved with the swagger of confidence she admired and wished for herself. And then there was his hair. Even as short as he wore it, the dark mass rose in unmanageable tufts and curious angles. It begged to be brushed and smoothed into obedience, though she'd never seen it tamed. Even when wet its wild spirit broke free.
She knew how the conversation between the two men would go. Brady would trust the bridge as little as she did. But he was an excellent swimmer unlike herself and would brave the shaky walkway. No one could force her to try the ropes. A fall into the Watara's icy spring flood would be death for someone with her limited skills.
Brady looked across the river and after a moment lifted his hand in the Realm's way of greeting. She had no choice but to return it. After a brief lift of her hand, she slipped back toward the trees and the meager cover of their still bare limbs.
Her heart thudded in an irregular cadence as if it too was unsure how to think of this disturbing man. Two days in his company? Within the hour he would cross the river and she still didn't know if she was excited or fearful.
* * * *
"You walked over on that?" Brady reached over his head and touched the twine.
The ropes stretching across the muddy river were as thick as his wrist, but that was still pretty thin to put his feet upon.
"I crossed at first light, sir." Zeke Oman gestured at the massive, old oak that served as anchor for the rope bridge. "We put this rope up last fall and then Roth and some men climbed hand over hand across the river to set the others. A number of us have traveled back and forth regularly."
"Are you telling me to buck up, Oman?"
Zeke grinned. "Trying to assure you it's completely safe, sir."
Brady snorted but he patted the revolver hanging at his hip. "I trusted you when you asked me to try this new gun so I guess I'll trust your next invention."
"I've heard the rumor you're pretty good with it, sir. Did you bring more rounds? The men guarding the disposed shepherds have been carrying them."
"Two hundred rounds in one of my packs and someone else has another two hundred."
"Let me help you settle those packs, sir. You don't want to be off balance crossing the bridge."
Oman shifted Brady's packs around, putting the heavy bullet bag in the very middle. He had another pack with a change of clothing and a wide variety of other items and then the bundle made up of his sleeping mats.
"Want me to go first, sir?" one of the Realm men asked.
"No. You guys would never let me forget it." Heights or dangerous bridges didn't frighten him. It was the glimpse of the thin, feminine form he'd glimpsed waiting across the river that slowed his feet. She'd come to meet them, damn it.
Cara had been much on his mind over the long winter months. Not that he hadn't tried to forget her in the company of other women. His lingering fascination with the blonde-haired woman frustrated him. She'd made it abundantly and rudely clear she had no desire for his company, and there were many other women who felt differently. Still, her dark eyes visited his dreams with their secrets and mystery. Her too-thin body, unlike the more rounded forms of most Solonians, should not have attracted him. But it did. Now he would have to spend hours in her company, something neither of them would wish. Yet duty demanded it.
He checked the thin leather loop that held his pistol secure in its carefully designed sheath.
The first few steps on the ropes weren't too bad. But once he'd worked his way out to over the roaring flood, the bridge swayed wildly.
"Take smaller steps," Zeke shouted from the bank. Only one man could cross the rope bridge at a time so the others watched.
It did help to take short, careful steps but each one required looking down at one's feet. The muddy water swirled and rushed below him at what was surely four times its usual summer depth.
He paused and looked downstream. Less than half a mile to the east, the river dumped its load over a cliff and beyond sight it would join the sea. The rugged terrain and treacherous riverbank prevented any close exploration of the cataract. He heard the waterfall as a distant growl so powerful it spoke louder than the roar of the river below his feet.
Halfway across, he caught the rhythm of walking the ropes. He glanced at the far bank and saw most of the party had moved closer to the bank and watched him approach. Cara stood in the shadows of one of the thick trees anchoring the bridge ropes. She looked thinner than ever, almost frail. He was close enough to see the frown on her face. No surprise there but she seemed to be looking up the stream and not at him.
Her hand dropped to her sword and she ran toward him. She stopped at her end of the bridge and shouted at him. He couldn't hear but followed her gesture to look up stream.
A tree barreled toward him, half submerged perhaps, but the part riding on top of the river poked higher into the sky than his head. It would take out the bridge and him along with it if he didn't get off of it. But the bridge wasn't designed for rapid transit. He had no choice but to continue with measured steps.
He wasn't going to make it. More people joined Cara in shouted encouragement. The closer he was to shore before the tree tore out the bridge, the better his chances of swimming to safety. Could even his excellent swimming skills match the strength of the river?
The sun broke through the chilly fog so the ropes sparkled with the moisture caught on them. The sudden glare nearly blinded him.
He squinted and glanced up river. Something struck him in the head and flipped him off the bridge. Gritty water filled his mouth as he went under.
* * * *
The tree snagged for the space of a breath on the bridge and then tore free. Ropes snapped, branches cracked, and the uprooted giant swept over Brady. Cara glimpsed his light brown shirt for one dreadful moment before he was pushed under the dark waters.
She raced along the riverbank, keeping pace with the tree which again hesitated as one of the trailing ropes from the bridge caught on something unseen beneath the frothing water. Brady's hand and then his head appeared on the far side of the trunk. He pulled his torso out of the water. Blood ran from his temple in a brilliant scarlet ribbon in sharp contrast to the colorless river. He looked at her with dazed eyes for a moment, but the tree broke loose and careened toward the narrow gorge leading to the waterfall.
"No!" The roar of river and cataract drowned her scream and those from behind her.
She ran forward, her lungs afire as she jumped over rocks, bushes, and a downed sapling. Each obstacle put her further behind Brady. The tree rolled part way over and he went under for a moment before crawling back to the surface. She tripped over something and scrambled quickly to her feet. The bank held ever more obstacles and many more than she could negotiate quickly.
She took a deep breath and ran the few steps toward the river. She dove toward the tree. The water slapped her body at the same time cold reality slapped her senses. What was she doing? She splashed awkwardly and kicked her legs. Her hand touched a branch of the tree. Climbing hand over hand along the slippery limb, she gained a hold on the trunk. Her soaked clothes tugged at her as if unseen hands pulled her toward the bottom. After a few unsuccessful, exhausting attempts, she pulled her body on top of the bucking trunk. Not far beyond her, Brady struggled to pull himself further out of the water. His packs hung down his back and added unnecessary weight.
"Drop your packs!" The falls pounded her ears with its throaty roar.
He looked back over his shoulder, and his eyes widened at the sight of her. His shouted answer was lost in the overwhelming cacophony of the coming disaster.
They both crawled along the thick trunk until their hands touched. For once she wasn't disturbed by the touch of a man. Despite the icy water, his fingers felt warm against her nearly numb fingers.
"Did you fall in?"
She read his lips more than heard the words. She shook her head and gripped his hand tighter. For some reason, her coming death didn't frighten her. She didn't want Brady to die with her, but it was a comfort that she wouldn't die alone as she'd always feared. Soon all her nightmares would end. Her soul deep shame, the hate and the anger that marked her existence would all be gone. Hopefully their deaths would be quick and relatively painless.
"You fool!" Brady screamed. "Why did you dive in? Why?"
The walls of the cliffs rushed by and her entire body vibrated with the noise. She wrapped both her hands around Brady's left hand and looked into his eyes. The sun shone on them like a perverse joke of nature and lit his eyes to the same color as the sky. She read sadness and regret there and felt them in the way he squeezed her hands. He looked forward then, and she followed his gaze with hers. The water frothed with wild, brown waves. Not far ahead the world dropped away. She could see nothing but sky and then a momentary glimpse of the sea far ahead and below them.
The tree shot out into nothingness and hung there for a breathless moment. It plunged downward and she couldn't resist looking down at the waiting maelstrom. Somehow Brady pushed away from the dropping tree and pulled her with him so they seemed to fly free. They hit with an explosive jolt and then she knew nothing.
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