"Is that your givnomai, Zery? You have Mary's little lamb tattooed on your breast? Is that why you follow instructions so blindly?"
My temper flared. I raised my arm and let go of one side of the nunchakus. Spinning the weapon, I leapt toward him.
He jumped to the side, but not fast enough. The wooden club struck him in the side of the head. He grunted.
"Be careful. It wouldn't do for a sheep to take down a wolverine." I spun the rod and moved forward again, but my back had suffered from my last swing. The muscles there contracted, hard. I stumbled.
He bent at the waist and rushed toward me like a football player planning a tackle. Ignoring the pain shooting through my back, I slashed downward. The rod struck him again, but he didn't stop. His shoulder hit me in the stomach. My feet left the ground and for a second we were airborne. We hit the ground with a thud.
He was on top, but only for a second. I grabbed his hair, jerked back his head, and pressed my thumb into his eye. The ache in my back encouraged me to push harder.
He cursed and flipped so we were both on our sides. The hand I'd been using to push against his eye became trapped under his head, my thumb no longer reaching his socket.
He twisted his face and bit me. Pain shot through my hand where his teeth had sunk into skin and muscle. Then before I could react, he shoved the side of my face into the earth. I inhaled dirt and dead grass, was forced to open my mouth to breathe.
I still held the nunchaku. I lifted my arm and swung down, aiming for his face and neck, but my efforts were weak. He reached for my attacking arm and grabbed me by the wrist.
My curse was swallowed by the earth.
I tried to twist my wrist free, but at the current angle and in my current condition, I couldn't. So I resorted to the trick that had worked before; I lifted my knee and aimed for his groin.
He rolled again. My knee hit his thigh, but my face was free. I could breathe, which meant I could fight. I balled my fingers into a fist and smashed him in the nose.
He grinned. His face was stained with blood, mine and his, and he grinned.
I struck him again.
"Maybe a butterfly? Is that your givnomai? Your touch is so gentle. . "
Again he rolled, slinging one thigh over my legs as he did, trying to hold me in place. I groped the ground as we rolled and my fingers found a rock. I concentrated on his taunts and slammed it into his skull.
This time his grip loosened.
I shoved him to the side and staggered to my feet.
My nunchakus were gone, but I still held the rock, and as he sprung up after me, I held it where he could see it.
"Nice," he murmured. Blood flowed from his scalp an inch or so behind his temple. He touched two fingers to it. "But your aim was off. You want to kill me, you will have to try harder than that. I won't lie still, helpless like a baby." He stared at me, taunting me with his words.
"You won't get away with it. The Amazons will hunt you down."
"Really? Seems to me if that were true, I wouldn't be standing here now."
We were both moving now, slowly sidestepping around an invisible circle. My breath was ragged and a mix of sweat and dust coated my body. I wanted to cough or spit, to get some of the dirt that had found its way inside my mouth out. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I followed his example and smiled too. "I'll rectify that soon enough."
He grunted. "Threats. You forget you aren't the first Amazon to try and kill me. . there was my mother. Left me in a trash pile, in the snow. I survived. I'll continue to survive, and I'll do everything I can to stop the Amazons from destroying any more sons."
"As if the sons were the innocent ones. I lost my lieutenant to a son last fall and two others-teen girls. We weren't targeting him. We didn't even know he existed."
"One. One son. Are you saying the Amazons have no bad within them? That the tribe is so perfect one of your kind couldn't do what that one son did? Go out on her own?"
I snorted at his ignorance. "Amazons have structure. We follow the high council. It is what has kept us strong."
He stopped and placed his hand on his forehead. Then he laughed.
Anger flickered inside me. I tightened my fingers on the rock.
He shook his head and then held up a hand. "Enough."
But I wasn't done and I certainly wasn't going to let him dictate when I would be.
I fingered the stone. It was rough and jagged, as if it had broken off from a bigger mass rather than having been formed on its own, it edges worn off by erosion and time. I found the sharpest point. Then I lunged.
He grabbed me by the wrist and stared down at me, his dark eyes snapping. "I'm not giving you the baby. You need to accept that, and if I think you are close to finding that baby, or harming another infant, I will forget my job is only to watch and report."
I swung my free fist.
He grabbed it too.
We stared at each other as if trapped in some kind of unwelcome dance. Then he jerked me toward him, twisted my arms behind my back, and lowered his face to mine.
My mouth opened to yell curses, but his lips were already over mine. Wisely he kept his tongue out of reach of my teeth. I snapped my jaws together and arched my body, trying to escape.
My inability to do so was infuriating.
I twisted my face to the side, the curses he'd stopped began flowing from my mouth, and I bucked my body against his. Somehow he moved my wrists to just one of his hands and reached into one of those pockets I'd worried about when he first arrived. Realizing he was going for something he intended to use against me, I slammed my foot down on the top of his. He grimaced but didn't drop his hold. Instead he twisted toward me again, something silver shining in his hand.
A gun or a knife. . I put everything I had into the struggle, forgot my pain, forgot everything but attaining freedom. I rammed my knee into his thigh over and over, turned toward him so my mouth was level with his shoulder, and bit down as hard and viciously as I could.
I was rewarded with the warm taste of blood through his T-shirt, but as quickly as the moment of success came, it was gone. There was a snap and cold metal closed around my wrists.
He shoved me to the ground.
I panted for breath, my mind whirling, wondering how with only my feet free, I could kill him.
It was little reward, but he was winded too. His chest heaved. He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth as if scrubbing the area where our lips had touched.
Then he turned and headed off in a lope. Six feet away he stopped and called back. "Don't be a sheep, Zery. Be headstrong and stupid if you must, but don't be a sheep."
I let out a yell and scrambled to my feet, but he was already gone.
It was another long walk back to the farmhouse. I had tried to remove the cuffs on my own, but the son had snapped them tight and all I got for my efforts were scrapes to add to my already torn palm where he had bitten me. So I was forced to walk back to camp cuffed.
And the yard was full. Areto was running the warriors through their exercises, Lao had the hearth-keepers on the front porch tying bundles of herbs together, and Thea was sitting under the oak next to Sare. Today she was carving fetishes. As I approached, Thea held a falcon up to the sun. When she saw me, she dropped it onto the girl's lap.
I walked past her. "Lao, meet me in the kitchen."