Strong Heart - 8
***The brightening sky woke Jo early. She lay on the raised platform of the caravansary cubby for a moment, gathering her wits for the day. Her squad slept around her, their blankets spread out to cover most of the ledge jutting from the pocketed caravansary wall. Quietly, she rose and rummaged through packs stacked nearby for her gear and tea supply.
Jerom shifted, drawing her attention as he cracked an eye at her. She grinned.
"Make sure the lads get some water for those spiced wine headaches when they wake, hey?"
Jo had ended up practicing the Imperium style wrestling against Rostam as well as Khusru and Babak. They'd all had a full afternoon drill before she had laid hands on them, after all, and it also gave all three a chance to learn some of the grappling moves themselves.
Jerom grunted, closed his eye, and rolled back over.
Still smiling, Jo laced on her scale-plated vest, belted on her dagger and short-sword, and tossed a pack over her shoulder. She hopped lightly down on to the packed dirt central yard shared by the bundled goods and livestock of the three expeditions currently crammed into the caravansary. With a nod to her fellow guards on watch duty over their caravan, she headed for the big main gate.
The town of Besheb slowly came to life in the dawn light as Jo walked back to the fabric merchants' street. She found Nerses and Tobias setting up the embroidery stand for the day.
"A good day for traveling, Kwm jojali," Jo greeted Nerses. She nodded to Tobias, too, and received a friendly nod in return.
"The Kwm willing indeed," Nerses repeated, clasping his hands briefly before his chest. "Thanks for the blessing."
"Just looking out for my own interests," Jo smiled, with a nod to the apartment behind the awning.
"Of course," he smiled back. "Please, come in."
Jo followed Nerses back into the apartment, leaving Tobias to finish arranging the day's wares. Inside, Nerses waved over his wife and children, who hurried to surround him. Jo pretended to study the various dye pots and drying hanks as he gave each child a kiss on the brow and a gentle admonishment in Tevri.
Behave for your mother and your cousin-uncle. Play nice with your siblings. Don't piss off the mercenary. Jo suppressed a grin at her mental translation.
Nerses spoke to Chana last, ending with a kiss on her brow and a chaste one on her lips. He would only be gone a couple days, but Jo didn't begrudge him the ritual goodbyes. Who knew when one of the gods might take offense if a rite was neglected?
"Guard Joana," the thread merchant said formally as he turned to her, "Keep my family safe while I'm away."
"To the utmost of my abilities," Jo swore. She reached out a hand with a smile and he smiled back as they clasped wrists again. "Go, and return swiftly."
Nerses nodded and headed out the door. Through it, Jo could see him stop to say goodbye to Tobias, too. They also clasped wrists, and she saw Tobias raise a hand to make some sign in front of Nerses as his mouth moved in a quiet mutter.
Magic. Jo's hands twitched, and she had the sudden urge to rub her itching palms together, or draw her dagger. Little gods in the desert, the kid just cast a spell out in the open and I'm the one who gets to defend him. I really hope he's thought about whether his enemies might hire a local witch to curse him, but I doubt it.
Little gods, go easy on me for taking up with this fool, please?
"Nerses-wife," Jo said politely to Chana, "Do your children understand Eirosian? May I speak to them?"
"They know some, and Yakob knows enough to translate for the others." Chana took the hands of her smallest child, a toddler, and led all four of them over. She gave Jo a faint smile. "You may call me Chana, honored guard. I don't mind."
"Thanks, honored Chana." Jo crouched in front of the kids. She pointed at the scars on her face. "I'm Jo. Do you want to see me make a scary face with these?"
Three of the children hung back, glancing at their mother and each other, but the oldest, a boy of about ten, smiled and nodded. Jo smiled back and stuck her fingers in the corner of her mouth, stretching it out and wrinkling up her face so that her scars twisted and her eyebrows knotted unevenly. Then she shook her head and shoulders like a dog shaking off water, letting her face fall back into a smile.
"Was it scary?" Jo asked. She got a couple shy smiles and one insistent, "No! I can make a scarier face than that!"
"I bet you can! I can make scarier faces, too, but I only do it to make bad things or people go away. So if you see anything strange or scary while I'm here, make sure you tell me about it, so I can make my really scary faces. But!" Jo held up an admonishing finger, waggling it under their noses. "I'm really bad at taking turns, so you have to leave me alone while I'm doing it or else I might turn mean!" Jo lurched up into a half-stoop, looming over the children with arms splayed, fingers crooked, and yellowy eyes crossed. "Grawroblrorgrawr!"
The children fled behind their mother with ear-piercing shrieks and giggles. Jo straightened up to see Chana hiding a grin behind her hand. The mercenary winked at her.
Nice smile. I wonder if she's got a sister or cousin somewhere, like a nice young widow with a couple brats. Jo sighed wistfully as she watched the young woman herd her children back to their dye work. They'd be riverdwellers, though, and good luck bringing one of those back to your mother's tent, Jo.
Jo dropped her pack in the quietest corner of the room and flopped down next to it.
"Chana, if Tobias asks, I want to stay out of sight unless I'm needed." She flashed a crooked grin at the housewife. "No need to antagonize anyone with my presence, hey? And having the drop on anyone who does decide to cause mischief wouldn't hurt."
"I'll tell him, honored guard."
"Just Jo, Chana." Jo loosened the side ties of her scale-and-leather armor, letting it hang from her shoulders alone as she leaned back against the wall. She studied the path from her seat to the door and the one ground-floor window, then tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
Jo roused from her doze with a grunt. Glancing around with half-opened eyes, she spotted Tobias helping one of the girls re-stack several freshly scrubbed pots scattered on the floor by the hearth. Chana and her oldest were missing, presumably out manning the embroidery stand.
Jo closed her eyes, but then opened them wide.
"What?" she asked, eying the magician where he stood looking at her.
"I was wondering about the pattern woven in the camel hair," Tobias said, coming closer to gesture at her dagger scabbard. "I know you desert warriors usually have them done up according to your tribe, but I've never seen one with white on it before."
"The blue, black, and orange is for my tribe, the Fasai," Jo answered as she sat up and started tightening her armor back up. "The three white rectangles are a type of warrior's mark you probably won't see too often."
"Oh?"
Jo sighed. Shit, just what I needed; a magician curious about my personal business.
"They're the mark of a dagha pavadkar." She frowned at him, waiting for the next question.
"Why is it," Tobias asked, rolling his eyes in exasperation, "That everyone treats me like some harmless child, right up until they decide I'm a dangerous magician again and won't tell me a blessed thing?"
"Maybe you'd have better luck if you acted like what you are all the time."
"Maybe if more magicians acted halfway decent, they wouldn't be universally mistrusted!"
Jo sat back, yellow-brown eyes narrowing as she considered Tobias' vehemence.
He's had this argument before. With who? Why does he care? Not that it matters, but I bet it'd explain why he hasn't been snapped up by some lord or prince already.
"Still," Jo said, "Even the nicest magician draws his power from words, right? Dagha pavadkar aren't just random terms, they're a phrase, an idea that's important in the tribes. So. Give me your word, Honored Magician, that you won't use this knowledge against me or any of the Fasainyd at all, and that you'd better have a damn good excuse if I ever catch you using it against any of the other tribes."
"Done." Tobias sat down across from her and clasped his hands together, level with his heart. "As I speak, I am Tobias, and I swear by the One Whom I Adore that I'll not use the knowledge of dagha pavadkar against you or anyone else in the Fasai tribe, and that I'll have a very good reason before I even think of using it against anyone in the desert tribes."
"Good enough, Attar as my witness." Jo felt her ears tingle and itch at the exchange. She frowned, rubbing at one. Scorch it, am I gonna get itchy every time he throws a little magic around?
She ignored his raised eyebrow and dropped her hand back in her lap. She studied the three white strips beneath her dagger for a moment, then sighed.
"Dagha pavadkar means 'pure warrior' in my native tongue, a very rare type of warrior," Jo explained, letting her voice fall into a storyteller's rolling rhythm. "In the tribes, only men can be warriors and guard the herds, because women must bear the children and keep the tents. A tribe can continue even if all but one of its warriors dies while defending it, but if it loses too many mothers, it risks extinction. You understand?"
Tobias nodded silently, his hazel eyes half-closed as he concentrated on Jo's tale-spinning.
"So the boys are raised to be guardians of herd and tent, trained as warriors in their youth and tested in raids or warfare before they can start looking for a wife. Now a dagha pavadkar is a warrior who, at birth, was announced to the gods and tribe as a girl-child, but is so obviously a warrior as it grows up, that tribe petitions their gods with an apology, but apparently the child is a boy after all."
Jo ignored Tobias' sudden startlement as she continued.
"The child petitions Attar directly, asking for the Shepherd of the Star's permission to become a warrior. Unless the gods make their displeasure known then, the child then starts warrior training with the rest of the tribe's boys." Jo hesitated, but then smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, the gods aren't inclined to change the child's body to make things any easier for him, so it rests on the dagha pavadkar and the tribe to ensure that the warrior behaves and is treated like one."
"Oh. So... I see, now," Tobias said, blushing faintly.
Jo's smile grew into a proper grin. "Don't worry, Tobias! I straightened you out, now, didn't I?"
"You did," he answered, glancing away as his flush deepened. Jo chuckled, but waved the matter off.
"That's where the term 'pure warrior' comes from, though. Since a dagha pavadkar can't continue the tribe by siring a kid himself, he can only help the tribe by being a warrior." She tapped the short-sword at her hip. "Working as a mercenary has taught me a few extra tricks I can use in my tribe's service, should my kin ever need them."
"Ah, so that's why - "
"Unc' Tobe, Unc' Tobe, is the scary guard...?" The boy, Yakob, almost stumbled as he halted his dash into the apartment. "Oh, he is. Honored guard, Mama says that there's a scary man outside an' you should know about it."
"Is there?" Jo sprang lightly to her feet. A quick pat ensured her armor and arms were all in place. "I'll go look. Tobias, I'm going to try to keep this casual since they've probably only just found out Nerses is gone, so hang back a bit, would ya? And you, young man." She fixed Yakob with a fierce scowl. "No watching from the window unless you're absolutely silent! Got that?"
"Yes, honored guard!"
Jo shook her head as the boy promptly perched himself at the sill. Tobias took up post beside the entrance and nodded to her.
Jo sauntered to the door, ready to finally meet one of these bullies for herself.
***
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