Warrior's Woman Read online

  “You might have thrown my phazor aside,” she said as she sat up. “But that doesn’t mean I’m defenseless, so don’t get any ideas we’ll both regret.”

  His smile didn’t waver, and it wasn’t hard to tell he found her words amusing. “You are alone, woman, without the protection of a warrior, which indeed makes you defenseless—and claimable. You should have begged my protection immediately, for then I would have been bound to give it. Since you did not, you declared yourself claimable.”

  Tedra frowned. “If that means what I think it means, you can forget it. I didn’t declare myself anything, and I don’t need anyone’s protection.”

  That got rid of his smile, though there was no other indication that her words annoyed him. “I am claiming you, woman. Do you mean to resist my claim?”

  “I’m not going to let you rape me, if that’s what you call resistance.”

  “There is no rape in a claiming. Your lack of protection denies you your right to resist.”

  “But I wasn’t without protection. That phazor you tossed away was all the protection I needed. It stopped you, didn’t it?”

  He did not like that reminder. “Your weapon is strange to me, but weapon it is, and women are forbidden the use of weapons. Since they are so forbidden, only a man’s protection can prevent a claiming.”

  She wasn’t getting through to him, but that didn’t stop her from trying again. “What if I can prevent it?”

  He crouched down by her feet, his hands now within reach of her. The urge was strong to draw her legs up and away from him, remembering how fast he had moved before. She remained as she was, however, sitting on the ground, her legs outstretched as if she had nothing to worry about. She had more than her share of worries, though. Martha, who could hear what was going on, could Transfer her out of this situation, but Tedra knew she wouldn’t. Martha would be all for her getting raped by this barbarian, probably thinking it was just what she needed. That farden computer was forever deciding she knew best when it came to Tedra’s needs.

  “You have other strange weapons I have yet to see?” the barbarian asked her.

  “Strange by your standards, but not by mine.”

  She’d caught his curiosity now. “Do you show me these weapons, woman.”

  “And spoil the surprise? Do I look dumb, warrior?”

  He laughed. She liked the sound. She liked him. Too bad he was insisting on this claiming business. She couldn’t afford to be claimed by a man on this world when she wouldn’t be staying here for very long, and when she had negotiating to do that just might be the salvation of her planet. Her own personal inclinations couldn’t get in the way of that.

  When his humor had run its course, his eyes came back to her glowing with appreciation. “Whatever surprises you have hidden will be revealed when we have seen to your bracs and comtoc.”

  Tedra didn’t try to hide her groan. It was loud and long. “That again? I thought I made myself clear on that score. Didn’t you get yourself stung trying to take my clothes before? They’re staying on me and that’s that. They wouldn’t fit you anyway.”

  He gave a snort, letting her know what he thought of that last crack, but she’d already known he didn’t want the clothes for himself. He just didn’t want her wearing them. And he was staring at her thoughtfully now, increasing her nervousness with his being so close.

  “You are claimed, woman. As well you know, this means you must yield to my will. Yet you continue to defy me, risking punishment. I have never met a woman who would willingly court punishment.”

  He was either genuinely perplexed by her attitude or subtly letting her know what would happen if she didn’t buckle under to his demands. Tedra’s tokens were on the latter, and she had never liked threats, subtle or otherwise.

  “You still haven’t met one, warrior. What you’re missing here is the fact that I’ve never heard of your farden claiming before, so how can I know the rules or regulations pertaining to it? It’s a word the Sha-Ka’ari use, so one I know, but not in the sense that you ‘re using it. But above and beyond that, I simply won’t be claimed. It sounds suspiciously like slavery to me, and I’ll kill the man who tries to enslave me— which reminds me of something I should have asked right up front. Do you people own slaves?”

  She could see he was dying to address some of her other points first, but deigned to answer her question anyway. “We have no need of slavery in Kan-is-Tra. There are servants aplenty in the Darasha, those of this land who were conquered many centuries ago. There are countries to the east that make slaves of their captives, but Kan-is-Tran warriors deal differently with captives.”

  “How differently?”

  “They are treated as claimed women.”

  “All right,” she sighed, “what’s the differences between the two?”

  “A claimed woman cannot be misused, sold, or killed, as is frequently done with a slave. She can also become the mother of a warrior’s children if he chooses to so honor her. What she cannot do is deny her warrior’s will.”

  “And if she does?”

  “You have already been told the consequences of such action.”

  “Punishment, when you just said she couldn’t be misused,” Tedra spat out.

  “There are ways to punish that cause little harm.”

  She’d just bet there were, and he likely knew every farden one. “Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up. I had a feeling your claiming wouldn’t be to my liking, and I was right. You’re just going to have to ignore the fact that I didn’t come here accompanied by ... wait a minute.” She grinned suddenly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but”—she switched to Kystrani—“Martha, I want you to send Corth down here immediately. I don’t need the aggravation this barbarian is giving me. I’ve got a job to do, and I can’t do it if I have to fight every warrior I come across who tries to claim me. Corth will satisfy their idea of protection. Martha? Come on, damn it, I know you can hear me.” She waited a moment more, and held up her hand when the barbarian started to speak. “Martha, if you cross me on this, I swear I’ll get even. I’m not down here to get breached, as much as you’d love to see it otherwise. Now stop fooling around and send me Corth!”

  Nothing, and the barbarian was done waiting. “Why do you talk to yourself, woman, and in words that make no sense?”

  “I’m talking to Martha. She’s the voice you might have heard coming out of my phazor unit.”

  “But you turned the voice off. I saw you do this.”

  “She can still hear me.”

  “Even though she is not here? Is she a God, then?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could say Martha is like a God,” Tedra said bitterly, and added in a Kystrani aside, “Don’t choke laughing over that one, you farden traitor.” Then, to the barbarian again, “She could make me disappear if she chose to, or send me down a male who would pass for the protection you say I need. She obviously chooses to do neither, but to leave me to deal with you myself.”

  Doubt was written all over him, telling her he didn’t believe a word of that. “I had thought you from Ba-Tar-ah in the far north, but the Ba-Tar-ahi speak as we do. From what country do you come, woman, that your other words have no meaning? From this Sha-Ka’ari you have spoken of?”

  “Sha-Ka’ari is your language, my big friend, not mine. I come from Kystran, not another country here, but another planet. I’m here to trade with your people, to offer them the wonders of my world.”

  “Another planet.” He grinned, and Tedra knew he still wasn’t buying any of it. “How does one come from another planet?”

  “In a spaceship,” Tedra gritted out, then added much louder, “Which Martha could show you if she’d just realize I’m making a breakthrough here. ”

  “The Kystran woman has a talent for storytelling.” The barbarian chuckled. “I am not displeased. I will look forward to more of your amusing tales.”

  “Damn it, I really am here to trade—and maybe hire some mercenaries if some of you warrior
s are interested. I need to speak with your shodan. Can’t you at least hold off with this claiming nonsense until I’ve had a chance to prove—”

  He waved her to silence. “A woman would not be entrusted with such a task, with trade or the hiring of warriors. Too long have you worn these warrior’s clothes, I think. They have let you believe you can do as you please, but such is not so.”

  He didn’t tell her to remove them again. His arm stretched out toward her, intending to grasp her hand to bring her to him so he could see to the matter himself. But Tedra wasn’t having any of that. She caught his arm in both hands and tugged, dropped back for the pull, and raised her legs to help send the barbarian flying over her head. It worked, even with his colossal weight, but only because she’d used the additional kick of her legs. She was on her feet the moment the move was completed. The barbarian was now fiat on his back.

  He stayed like that for about ten seconds, then sat up and looked over his shoulder at her. He didn’t look mad. He didn’t look surprised either. She had a suspicion the barbarian rarely showed what he was feeling.

  “I am going to assume, woman, that you knew not what you were about.”

  “You can do that, but I wouldn’t recommend it. There’s more where that came from.”

  “Then you have challenged me.” It wasn’t a question, and he gave a short bark of laughter before he got to his feet. “By the stones of gaali, you have solved the problem of your own resistance.”

  “I have?” she said blankly, then, “Wait a minute. I’m not challenging you, barbarian. All I did was defend my right to keep the clothes on my back.”

  “A claimed woman has no rights, and you have indeed challenged me. I now accept the challenge. The choice of weapons is mine.”

  He was serious, she realized, and had a sinking feeling there was no way out of it. He saw this as the answer to some problem he had faced and was absolutely delighted that she’d solved it for him.

  “I suppose you’re going to hack me to pieces with that sword of yours?”

  He merely grinned at her. “You could not even lift a warrior’s sword, kerima, if there was one here for your use. No, I will choose weaponless combat, of which you appear to have some knowledge.”

  It was Tedra’s turn to grin. “If you insist.”

  He was not expecting such easy compliance. “You understand the outcome of a challenge?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re dying to tell me.”

  He grunted at her nonchalance. “The victor can demand death or service of the defeated one. No other thing can he demand.”

  “In other words, the loser can’t buy his way free of this service, should service be chosen?”

  “There is no avoidance of service if it is chosen.”

  “What if the loser just simply refuses to go along with it?”

  “He would be shamed with the loss of his rights. Most times his hand is cut off, so he can never issue challenge again that he does not intend to honor.”

  “Who decides that, the victor?”

  “Challenge is governed by warrior laws, laws enforced by every warrior. As I said, there is no avoidance of the outcome of a challenge.”

  “All right, I can see how a warrior thing like this would be backed up by all warriors. So what kind of service are we talking about, and how long does it last?”

  “The kind of service is also the choice of the victor, but it can be only one service. Does he need a new stable for his hataari, the defeated one can be told to build it, and as this is a specific task, the service will last until it is finished. Most service, however, is usually simple labor, on a farm, or a mine, or even in a household. This type of service is generally demanded for only a month’s time.”

  “And it can be only one thing? You can’t assign him to household duty, then change your mind if you need another farm worker?”

  “That is correct.”

  She thought it over for a minute. It sounded too easy, a little menial labor for just a short time. What had made him so delighted with her challenge?

  And then her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. “One of those services to choose from wouldn’t happen to be labor in the bedchamber, would it?”

  “It has never been demanded because only men challenge—but it can indeed be considered a service.”

  So that was what he had up his bare sleeve. He had correctly foreseen nothing but trouble in the claiming of her, but with this challenge thing, he could have exactly what he wanted of her without the trouble.

  Tight-lipped, infuriated at how he wouldn’t even have mentioned that particular service if she hadn’t asked, Tedra said, “And if I win, warrior?”

  “The same choice will be yours, death or service.”

  “Very well, I figure it will take me about a month to conclude my business here. You’ll make a nice guide or assistant.”

  “You truly expect to defeat me, woman?”

  The amusement in his voice was natural, she supposed, but still annoying. “You don’t know me, babe. I’m as arrogant in my skills as you are in yours.”

  “Arrogance in a woman is not allowed.”

  “Why don’t you see if it’s deserved first before you disallow it?” she fairly purred, hoping to rile him, but she was finding to her further annoyance that it was impossible to tell with him.

  He simply nodded, allowing her point. “You will abide by the outcome of the challenge?”

  “I hate to put a damper on your confidence, warrior, but fighting is what I do, and where I come from, a fighter is not without honor. You insult me by questioning mine.”

  He couldn’t have cared less. “Swear it by—by your Martha,” he insisted.

  “Oh, for Stars’ sake.” She sighed. “Swearing by Martha wouldn’t mean a thing, since she isn’t a God, just a pile of scrap metal who’s got too big for her circuits, and whom I happen to despise at the moment. I’ll swear by the Stars in Heaven, which is binding for me. But I don’t expect to lose this challenge, babe, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. You might be as big as all farden hell, but big doesn’t matter in what I can do. Do you swear to abide by the outcome?” She got a flush out of him, which made her chuckle that he could react to her barbs after all, and she rubbed it in. “Fair’s fair, babe. You made me swear.”

  “Then I swear by Droda,” he growled. “But I also swear you will regret your taunting of me, woman.”

  “That remains to be seen,” she replied, unruffled. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  “There is nothing that could stop me now, tyra. ”

  He’d called her witch. My, she really had got him riled, which was all the better for her. One of the first rules of fighting was to stay cool.

  “So what are you waiting for? I’m ready.”

  Chapter Nine

  The strategy was not to let him get his hands on her. Tedra quickly discovered that blocking did little good against those meaty arms, so any frontal attack was out of the question. She got her blows in from the sides, from behind, but that took some fancy footwork to maneuver around him; the barbarian might be big, but unfortunately, he wasn’t clumsy or slow. In fact, he could move nearly as fast as she could, which didn’t help to get the fight over with quickly, as she had hoped to do.

  Finding out early in the game that he was reluctant to actually hurt her was a good thing, because there had been several opportunities where he could have ended it, but she would have had some broken bones to show for it. She didn’t harbor any such reluctance herself, not that she thought she could actually damage the brute with the limited blows that distance allowed her. Those kicks she did get in were designed to bring him down; they just didn’t. He might be sore later, but as far as she could tell now, he wasn’t feeling anything, all that thick muscle cushioning her every blow. She’d either have to go for a running jump kick, wagering all that she could reach his throat as high up as it was, or else wait for an opening to take him from behind with her Frimera techniqu
e.

  After two successive lateral kicks that he was just short of blocking, Tedra got in a third kick that staggered him somewhat. Elated, she wasted no time in leaping on his back and going for the pressure point on his neck. She could have broken his back in that position, or his neck, by bringing up her feet for leverage and yanking back on his head. Something would have snapped before her added weight toppled them over. But she couldn’t bring herself to kill the barbarian. She applied the Frimera technique instead and held her breath, counting those four extra seconds it took to work on someone his size. But four passed, then six, and Tedra broke out in a sweat when eight seconds had come and gone and he was still standing. His neck muscles were just too thick, and when she heard his deep, rumbling chuckle, she realized that he could have stopped her at any point, that he had let her give it her best shot!

  Her only thought at that point was to abandon ship, but she’d known if she got that close to him it’d be all over, and even as she let go of her hold on his back, his hand was there to keep her from dropping free of him. In another second she was dragged around to the front of him by a fistful of her tunic, had only a moment to see the gloating pleasure in his expression, then was tossed upward into the air.

  To her credit, she didn’t scream. She didn’t come to ground either. The barbarian had merely wanted a more secure hold on her, but hadn’t wanted to set her down yet. He caught her on the fall with both hands, one on each of her arms just above the elbow, pinning them to her sides—which was a good thing for him. That close, and with his hands busy holding her, she could have broken his nose, smashed his vocals, or done any number of other disabling things if she’d had full use of her arms. She still had full use of her legs, however, but once again he proved how fast he was in blocking her moves, and he went one further and shook her until she decided she’d had enough and just let her legs hang.

  “Concede you are beaten, woman.”

  It was an order, not a question. And it did seem as if she were beaten, without having received a single blow. Colossal strength did have its advantages. His hold was too tight to wiggle lose from, and she didn’t care to have her brains rattled again if she tried any more kicks. But concede? Not until her last options had been used, and one of them was to bring both legs up, plant her feet squarely in the center of his chest, and push back.