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"Be of
good cheer, my friend," said Maura. "This is the path
the spirits would have me take."
She looked every inch the warrior. Armored and kilted
like a - like a barbarian. As efficient and deadly as
her father's sword - her sword - strapped to her back.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I know because it is the way for me to
aid my people here. Only after I have done that will I
be free to head North to seek the spirits' guidance.
Thus it is what they would have me do." She frowned at
me. "We have spoken of this."
"Aye, Maura, I know." I sighed. "It seems demeaning
for a warrior to guard a trade caravan. You should be
battling orcs and fighting giants for the freedom of
your people."
"What would you have the merchants do?" she asked.
"Hire mercenaries? Humans who can be bought? They use
Northmen because they can trust us and they know of
our skill in battle. I serve my people in this. Soon
enough will I serve them more directly."
She gripped my shoulder and bade me farewell.
Barely a week later there was a commotion at the city
gates. Word spread that a caravan had returned, its
journey unfinished. I ran to see, and it was indeed
that which had taken Maura away.
The men and women of the caravan were battered and
bloody, with bandaged injuries and pain in their eyes.
I called for my friend, and the guard captain turned
to me. I knew him slightly from the temple.
"Lassie," he shouted, pushing through the crowd to me.
"Lassie," more softly, "tha'rt Maura's friend?"
Without waiting for an answer, he held my shoulder,
reminding me of her parting. "She saved us, Lassie. We
were set upon. Followers of the plague god." He
screwed up his face. "They came on us in force. We 'ad
magic, but there were so many - if it 'adn't been for
Maura they would'a swarmed us. She were worth three o'
me regular lads. Bought us the time we needed, she
did, an' barely at that."
"Where is she?" I asked, not yet understanding.
"I'm tellin' thee, lass. She's..." He blinked, and I
saw tears in in this veteran's eyes. "She giv 'erself
for us. Mebbe we could'a kept 'er alive if she'd
backed off, but we'd'a lost others, an' seems she knew
that. She did what she could, and she died doin' it."
His voice was soft. "Tha should be proud o' 'er, lass.
Mark me words, if we'd 'ad a bard, 'e'd be singin' 'er
deeds now."
So that was it? No journey North? No serving the
spirits, and her people? No... no Maura?
"Come wi' me, lass," said the captain, and steered my
numb body through the crowd. He reached into a wagon
and lifted something out. "I reckon she'd want thee
t'ave this."
I stared at the object he'd given me for several
seconds before I could see it. Heavy, plain, black
leather. The scabbard for Maura's sword, the blade in
place. I fought the urge to draw it and lay about me,
or perhaps to use it on myself. I wasn't sure which.
"I'll take it to her clan," I said. "It belongs to
them."
"Aye, tha'st the right of it," agreed the captain, and
turned away to leave me alone in the throng.
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