Crows Murder

The Sails billowed in the wind while the captain shouted his commands to one of his crewmembers. The port was close and Crow knew that in these moments the experienced captains would win it from those that were new in their trade of work. He had to manoeuvre the ship just right to keep it from scalping cliffs and port safely at the docks. The entire time his slave had been below deck, out of view of the lustful crewmembers that could make his stay on the ship far from pleasant if they would hit the sul paga to hard. Crow was even now careful, calculated and very much aware of risks, problems or things that might harm his quest.

 
When they had left the dock he had given the Peacock thought. He wondered about a place – called Earth – were love between men and women might be equal. He himself found himself a hard believer that such things could exist. Perhaps it was the idea that she would draw to much attention to herself and perhaps succeed. She was a remarkable woman that had a lifetime of experiences that would fill many nights of storytelling. The last something he often enjoyed, but only when he choose so.

 
The hand that had been around throats to squeeze their last breath now rested on the wood of the ship. A hand that could tell as many stories and yet still able to caress softly or wield a blade with precision. Was it his independence that had him walk away ? He noticed his girl kneel next to him, after calling for her now the Port was in view. Why was she there and the Peacock not ? Perhaps there was this part of him that knew that she was of no use to him as a slave. Perhaps his age of taming women to beautiful and exquisite slaves were over. He brushed the hair of her shoulder and gave her one of his rare smiles. “Nearly there, mine.” He stated. “Prepare – since I won’t dwell long on this ship when we have docked.” He added.

 
The girl hurried to do his bidding and while she did, he knew he could have predicted her eagerness to do as she was told. Even this slave held perhaps that longing for being in his arms, his care for he wasn’t careless when it came to slaves and this one was one he had known over years. She was funny, talkative and sensual, things that humoured him when he was at camp – far from others that were not part of his caste. In his camp he felt at home, a place where he could joke, just listen without being alert all the time. The camp was as always good secured and circled with traps that would alarm him in time.

 
He narrowed his eyes to see in the distance the dock that held many banners. The ribbons seemed to be of all colours and welcoming to strangers that would make their halt there. “Some things need to remain uncaged and untamed.” He mused while his thoughts went back to Su. “A Peacock would pull its own feathers when it is caged to small. A collar of me – would be too small for a woman as you – Peacock” he whispered in the wind as if he hoped the breeze would carry it to her. “Your beauty and new found life should be celebrated in many places not in the presence of darkness or shadows.” He added in an afterthought.

 
 A world so far from his own, might have given him more options.
 A world so far from his own, might have given him more things to consider.
 A world so far from his own, might have been foreign and with alternatives.
 In his mind there was only one world. A world that is uncompromising to his manhood. A world that gave him no things to consider but his own caste and comfort. A world that was known and with only one option.

He was alone with gold and steel.

But, she wasn’t finished with him and if there was one trait her prior culture had taught, it was the proverb of perseverance. She raised the bag to Crow’s line of just as he pivoted and turned from her, denying her the opportunity to expound what resided not only in her mind, but as also her soul.

She elevated the bag to eye level where the coins clinked in unison as the metal struck each. Crow had given her enough money to start a new life several times over. But, the wealth the assassin had imparted with her as a final gift was birthed from the blood of his victims. Crow had probably ended more lives than her current age and still it was not enough for her.
“Baka (You fool).” She bellowed out to him in her native tongue just he began to board the ship and depart. One thing she had known Crow was good for conversation and departure, “Don’t you know what is in front of your eyes? A frog in a well does not know the great Thassa when he sees it.”

She had tried the assassin’s path in her own stead – relying on instinct, brains, and brawn. But, it was not living… it could never be living. It was rudimentary survival mode and one withered quickly from that form reactionary existence. The web which she had weaved from years of self-defense, even within the collar had begun to unravel like a woman unbraiding her hair. She mobilized towards the dock just as the crewmen lifted the plank. All she needed to do was migrate down the hill at a hastened pace and execute her need. Yurei was aware that it was most likely futile to speak to Crow as he continued his obstinate refusal of listening to her. But, she knew damn well he could hear.

The men had now ensconced themselves upon the ship and the captain bellowed for the sails to be set, just as the plank separated them. Her insolence was noted and she was aware she would anger Crow. However, this time, she was not seeking the proverbial upper-hand or dominance over a situation that seemed to never go her way. She realized this: there was no power she could possess where a man ruled as his will and purpose would be served first. A slight breeze accumulated which pressured the snow-colored sails. The wind would separate her from the man whom all the omens had been gesturing too and he would slip away like the evanescent tides which Thassa herself birthed.
Impermanence was abundant in Gor and a relatively present day reality. However, she had remembered hearing a story in Ar about a warrior who had declared his love for an unremarkable barbarian girl. What was the fellow’s name again? She was certain it was something beginning with a C… but his name continued to change as the story was passed from slave to slave. At some point, wasn’t he called Climate Vitelion? The absolute details of the story were obscure and changed too often to remember every minute fact, but it occurred as something like this: a warrior allegedly stepped up on the auction block of the Curulean and challenged an auctioneer for a barbarian slut. He asserted his love and gained her back. That meant he had had to give her up first, right? It was confusing and it was a dream which slave girls shared in hopes of one day finding their love masters. Albeit it seemed hopeless, there was nothing wrong with occasional faith.
Her heart pounded as she began the descent towards the dock. If she had watched her footing, she would have noticed the small rocks uprooting the path which were heavily concealed by the small blankets of snow.

Another proverb she read from the scrolls of childhood narrated that that if one does not enter the larl’s lair, that adventurer will not catch its cub. Something had to be accounted for and action had to be taken. If Crow rejected her a second time, she would simply return to the refuge of the forest and live out her life amongst nature. Besides, the world beyond cities and the laws of men offered a respite more appealing than the recycling chaos civilization seemed to afford her. If she could survive orphan she-urt living as an adolescent, she could master the Northern Forests as an old woman. But, this time she wouldn’t allow bitterness to consume her like it used too. While her people used to note during rare moments of adversity: One can stumble seven times but recover eight. Her will was as solid as the iron and steel which used to embrace her slender neck. It was unyielding and uncompromising, equal to that of a man’s. But within the last hand or so, her subsequent epiphany revealed that love, no matter how vague or strange it was, was stronger.

“I will never ask you to love me, Crow. I will never ask you to surrender your ideals, caste, or principles. I have no right to do that. But, I am asking you to keep me. Let me come with you. Take me with you… as whatever you want.”

Her expression matched the genuine poignancy of her request. Crow, and nearly just about every man she had encountered with whom she had established amiable or unfavorable terms were aware of her Machiavellian nature. If she and Talena met, there would be difficulty in determining who was the more devious. But, unlike Talena, she had no designs on power and had absolutely no qualms to rule. Yurei had the heart of a Tatrix at times, but lacked the soul and ambition to execute what needed to be done to gain that role. Talena was never raised to please and service men from the moment of birth like Yurei had to do. She never learned the intricacies of shady dealings as a teenage she-urt. She never possessed a mother who would sacrifice public property, slaves, and life itself to ascertain her daughter’s freedom. She never learned the ins and outs of being an ambassadress. She had never carried a child under her heart for nine months. Indeed, Talena was many things and perhaps more; but she would never be the woman whom Yurei was in this very moment and who Suyuan used to be.

Her lengthened gown barely gave her the opportunity to catch herself and the shredding of fabric resonated through the bare branches of which she began to pass. The bag remained in her hand during this time. She was departing the safety of the forest to approach a veritable executioner… one whom saved her life and now was taking flight like the birds of her childhood and visions. Talena, who could have been an alter-ego to her became paralyzed and expired within her heart.

She continued her descent down the hill when the shredding of fabric inundated her ears. Her gaze immediately traveled to the hem of Alesia’s slave livery with which she had stolen. She slipped on one of the expertly concealed rocks and collapsed onto her back while her ass collided into the ground with an audible thud. She began sliding down the hill at rapid speed and she flailing, reaching for whatever shrubs and branches she could get a hold of. Crow’s pouch inadvertently had been released from her grasp and landed on the cold boards of the dock. The pouch flew open, dispersing the gold tarns across the icy dock boards until they resembled constellations, glittering beneath Tor-tu-Gor’s influence.

Yurei clamored on the dock and scrapped her knees as she lifted herself to an ironic she-sleen position. Her hair had become tangled and her amber eyes were broad and wild with surprise. But, her momentary clumsiness was soon overcome as she attempted to lift herself to her feet. The ship was drifting further away and the laughter of the crewmen resembled an agitating buzz. It was like a bee had decided to flutter around her head without stinging her. Her head throbbed inexplicably and she felt something moist and warm dripping from a particular region of her head and percolating on the wooden boards. She glimpsed down and noticed blood had stained one of Crow’s gold pieces.

She had hit her head upon one of the uprooted rocks which the snow concealed from her. She hadn’t even realized this until now.

——

Katsumi, the old diviner of the Pani tarn camp regarded Suyuan with a solemn expression as Mizumi held her daughter in a protective embrace.
“The other agent will carry gold collected from lives he has extinguished. The gold he carries the souls of the lives he has taken. The souls require a price for the misery the agent has caused… and it requires the life of his twin soul. His twin must never encounter the tainted gold or else it will take her.”
“Katsumi-sama! What are you saying?!” Mizumi’s usually serene and pensive disposition faltered as she raised her manicured hand to her daughter’s head and pushed her cheek against her breast.
The blind diviner stared directly ahead as the incense curled around her wrinkled face. She was frightening to glimpse at as her azure eyes stared into nothingness. But, she could witness things others could not.
“The souls must be appeased by a sacrifice of love… and when the right moment arrives for the twin to reveal her love, they will take her from him.”

——

She had hoped to invoke something from Crow. However, he wore his stubbornness like a favored tunic; always familiar, enticing, and comfortable. They both seemed to be drowning in their prides.

Her weakness proved to be insuperable even for this moment of revelation. As she attempted to regain her equilibrium, her boot haphazardly stepped on one of Crow’s gold coins – and she slipped again. The splash was quite audible, causing some of the distracted crew members to glimpse over the side of the ship to discern a figure plunging into the river.

“Man overboard!” One bellowed out as the crew went frantic.
“It’s just an ugly, scarred Tuchuk slut.” Remarked one man whose wind-beaten features were as callous as his soul. “There are plenty like her in Turia.” He chuckled and retired below deck.

She thrashed under the currents, attempting to break the surface with her panicked flailing. However, the more she struggled, the further the undertow seemed determined to consume her.

The water proved to be a reprieve from the situation. The balance of where she was a woman – slave or panther was tested as the river swiftly pulled at her. The rapid, bubbling surface was a startling contrast to the seemingly, placid mien of the cold, icy river. The struggle mimicked both Yurei’s and Crow’s souls and how they would seem to perpetually meet but never merge into a single union. While the crew men attempted to rescue her, the river seemed to have swallowed Yurei indefinitely. She never broached the surface and never climbed onto the safety of the bank.
The gold coins continued to gleam under the steadily rising run. It seemed Tor-tu-Gor was oblivious to all that was happening beneath her. There was a speckling of blood upon a few despite the rapid scintillating of the rest of Crow’s coins. It was Yurei’s blood which had splattered from the wound on her head right before she succumbed to the river. A black bird settled upon one of the shrub branches which Yurei had inadvertently broken in her descent to the dock. It cawed several times before taking flight and it soared towards the ship where it glided among the sails before departing for what seemed to be the open Thassa. A black bird in winter was certainly a rare sight The crewmen could not find Yurei’s body and after a pain-staking search, they agreed she was lost to river sleens. But, no blood had bubbled up where Yurei had struggled and neither had the river revealed any signs of aquatic sleen. As the ship departed, one crewman noted the patterning on the dock which the Pani woman had originally stood upon: blood, gold, and sunlight.

—————————————————
But then she awakened from that dream upon the physician’s bed. She raised the back of her hand to her forehead to wipe away the fresh perspiration. She realized… it was a nightmare. “Mistress, Mistress! Are you all right?” The sweet-faced slave regarded her thoughtfully as she pressed the cool cloth to her forehead. Yurei waited for her breath stabilize and gain some measure of equilibrium.

It had been nearly a hand since Crow left and she realized she was dreaming of what might occur if she pursued Crow. She felt Crow’s money bag safely concealed beneath her blankets.

She knew what she had to do now.

Crow watched the crewmen prepare the ship fort heir departure. The men rough, weathered by the conditions of being on these travels. He had seen their eyes upon his girl and couldn’t blame them. The men should perhaps been used to the long hands of not releasing their lust upon female flesh, were still just men that wished it – perhaps more frequent then their job allowed. Perhaps he would grant them their pleasure with his slave, but most often he did not. He wasn’t a man that coddled his slaves, but knew their value and wouldn’t throw it before another if they weren’t worthy of it. His thoughts went to the captain that had proven to be a loyal and trustworthy fellow. He would be granted the privilege however might not accept it. He didn’t allow any of his crewmembers to take over the steering wheel.

 
Crow spied from the corner of his eye the Peacock and grinned. For a part he had been able to predict that she would follow, even if it meant risking her own health. She was stubborn just as he was, he gathered. A foolish woman that not followed her mind but her feelings. Something he tried to control so hard within his own. He wasn’t without them, but no longer he would be guided by them at the expense of his health or life. This was perhaps why he was a damn good Assassin. He took death as his defeat to his own codes, although completely aware that time or age eventually would catch him. The captain raised a brow when the Peacock addressed Crow, but with a small wave of his hand he knew that there was no reason to delay his departure.

 
Crow looked down upon the woman – perhaps with that look of amusement. He had been right in his own predictions, after all. “I doubt that to be true, Peacock.” He called down to her. He saw the pouch in her hand. “I hope you haven’t stolen the part which was meant for the Physician, woman.” he teased. Some of the crew chuckled at that statement. “I am sure that if you did, these men would know how to put a thief in place.” He said a little harder so he was sure these men would pay more attention. “I have said all I needed to say, Peacock. There is no business between us.” He stated. He wouldn’t even accept her gold for a contract she might wish to carry out. It was important that she would understand the complete separation Crow desired. “Now return. I doubt you are in any shape to travel.” The crewmembers continued their last preparations to leave and boarded the ship and removed the plank so anyone else could come aboard.

 
Crow nodded to the captain when he asked if he was ready to leave. “Go Peacock and don’t make me regret the fact I let you live.” He said with a voice that held little room for debate. “Our ways part here – Peacock. Perhaps in time we might ruffle each other feathers. But first those of yours need to heal so your wings will be ready when you fly.” With that he lifted his hand in a gesture of farewell. He was certain – as he had been for her to follow – that in time they would meet again. The question would be if she would be free, slave or dead. He could make a wager about it, but did not. There was none to wager with. With that he turned his back while the ship started to part of the spot it had been. The sails were lifted so the breeze would eventually take them to the destination he had given.

 
Perhaps he seemed heartless by not allowing her to speak further, but he was certain that his harshness eventually would be more satisfying then if he would again listened and argued. She was a woman, an intriguing one but there were many more that were too. He had no use of her and had to go to where his profession needed him. He didn’t look back to the dock, didn’t wait to hear her, didn’t regret and was with his mind on the task he had set himself when he had boarded the ship.

She watched him depart and tasted the bitter aftermath of his subsequent departure upon her tongue. Yurei’s teeth clenched as his cloak billowed behind him that seemed to resemble a startling abjuration of her and himself. He was like beautiful tea leaf that could be consumed, but once he lost his flavor, he could be discarded to sample something new. That was what the Pani believed at least; putting to use everything and anything and making it beautiful before its usefulness was spent. Despite the perpetual conflict of combining two cultures that she had grown up in, she still felt like a newborn child to each and every revelation that either side reflected. The almond-eyed Pani dictated that they were superior while the pale mainland Goreans dictated that their way was the way of the world. Her time spent in slavery had taught her one thing; everything was relative. While thrived in bondage to Eve, she had traveled as far south to the sand dunes of the Tahari all the way to the open landscape of the Wagon People. She had encountered many people and their ways; this was how she had accepted that all things are relative in Gor. Each culture that she had encountered possessed its own culture and set of beliefs. Nothing was centralized, nothing was certain with the exception of the position of women and the institution of slavery that men had enforced upon the world.

She began to pace about the room as the chill birthed by Crow’s exit began to subside. She hadn’t paced about any sort of area in years with the exception of Salernum when she assumed her owner was going to sell her. Those were happy and intense days which she held close to her heart… but Salernum had been deposed by the Priest-King gods and so were any and all contact who knew her, with the exception of the members of the black caste and particularly, Crow.
A headache began to form and she darted into a hall of the infirmary, uncertain where it would lead, but she didn’t care. The physician’s establishment seemed to perpetually breathe humidity and she understood why as the man had a plethora of candles wherever she turned. The candlelight seemed to guide her though as she incidentally entered the physician’s and Alesia’s bedchamber. It was a small room, but it was cozy and noticed a vanity which only high or bred slaves receives after tremendous effort of pleasing their owners. Beside it was a small altar to the Priest-Kings which amused her considering how far they were within the north and she simply shook her head at this, finding humor in the contradictory actions of most people she encountered. The altar was ornate and intimate and Yurei had gauged that this man was a devout follower who worshipped in secret so as not to lose his position. Yurei, of most people understood this as she had been coerced to hide her own beliefs the majority of her life.

She collapsed before the altar on her knees which was something she had not done since her childhood. Her gaze briefly glimpsed over towards the mirror to regard her reflection and her shoulders slumped forward as she studied her features; scars, scars, and more scars. Yet, her eyes and countenance revealed age which perplexed her. She didn’t seem to resemble the toothless hags of Arian towers who declared men once fought for them when in reality aging shots had failed them, but rather… wisdom which had arrived with years of experience. Her eyes appeared tired, but the irises exhibited a keenness which most women seemed to lack, with the exception of elders. She stared intently upon her features; the serums had paralyzed most of her aging with the exception of the lines under her eyes which were present due to experience. The others, such as the crow’s feet were due to the moments of happiness within and without the collar during her life. There were only so many things that the serums could suppress.
She pressed her lips against her palms while her body tensed as she attempted to pray but she felt nothing… nothing but the fleeting strength allowing her to perform her gesture. Her lashes fluttered gently over her eyes as she attempted to concentrate and muster a prayer but she remained restless. The humidity of the physician’s infirmary began to become stifling to where she could barely breathe and she quickly exited his personal quarters. She rushed outside to allow herself the consolation of the cool, cold winter that allowed her some respite. As she regained her senses she realized a single thing; change was inevitable. But change was based upon personal experience was it not? She rushed back inside to the location of where she and Crow seemed to depart upon mutual agreement. But, she wasn’t satisfied and she was certain she could discover the root of her restlessness… despite how foolish it might be.
“If he wants to brood, then he will learn to laugh. That damn man takes himself too seriously. Assassins…”
She hissed under her breath as she reached for the bag of money that he had left her as she pried it open and peered inside and gasped. There was enough gold to secure her for the rest of her life and many times over. Yurei furrowed her brows as she had to come to a decision. Her gaze shifted over towards the door as she began to rummage about the room for clothing. She would have to layer herself if she was going out in the cold. Her feet slipped effortlessly into Alesia’s boots which she had left by the door and grabbed her cloak. Her clothes were a haphazard mixture of winter slave livery and the infirmary gown that Alesia had gently attired her in. She smoothed a single hand through her tangled locks as the slave girl did her best to remove the matted dreadlocks. She picked up Crow’s bag and hastily departed the infirmary as she slammed the door behind her. Hopefully, she could catch up to Crow before he left. Her thin, shapely legs broke into a sprint as she ran through the village, mimicking the speed of a tabuk.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the heaviest thing she seemed to be carrying was the money pouch. Her time spent in recovery had revived her and as she continued her run, the snow seemed to part as she reached a thicket of trees. She witnessed the billowing cloak of the assassin from several horts away. Her grip tightened on the bag as she bellowed out to him as she continued to close the distance, “You forgot something, Killer!” She raised the bag to eye level to show him what she possessed as her intention was to toss it back to him. “You and I have unfinished business, Crow.”