Tara and the Great Mountain (standard:fantasy, 6471 words)
Author: mykemyk	Added: Jul 10 2005	Views/Reads: 3091/2017	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Tara becomes the keeper of her father's kingdom...

Tara and the Great Mountain... 

Tara peered deeply into the tankard she was holding. She swirled its
contents slowly...watching the movement of the liquid...seemingly 
captivated by its dance. She slowly lifted the tankard to her lips and 
drank deeply. The voice behind her, again, broke the silence that had 
fallen around them. 

"I ask you to lift your tankard in tribute to the gods that empower us
and you refuse to honor them. Call upon them now and beg them to come 
to your aid." 

Tara turned to face the man who would soon lay dead on the floor. With a
single motion, she reached over her shoulder and drew her sword. 
Slicing the air in front of her, she hissed, "This is the god that 
empowers me! My father, Dalkon, called upon the gods to deliver 
him...his tongue was still moving when his head left his body to rest 
in the dirt. The only other sound that will come from these lips will 
be when I stand over your lifeless body and spit on your corpse." 

"I am Mish", the man responded. "If you had half the brain of your
father, you would know that I am not a man to be tested." 

Tara smiled slowly. She'd heard of Mish. He and his men had plundered
the entire valley, killing all who had offered any resistance...making 
a name for themselves by taking whatever they wanted, when they wanted. 
He was a man who felt he no longer had anything to prove. He was used 
to the mentioning of his name igniting fear in the hearts of those who 
heard it. He and four of his men had walked into the inn to drink their 
fill of ale. Mish, having drunk several tankards, had stood to his feet 
and ordered everyone to lift their tankards and goblets in a toast to 
the gods. Everyone had obeyed...everyone, but Tara. She had decided, 
long ago, that she would never give her allegiance to anyone. She would 
die first...but, not tonight. 

Tara stood watching Mish's eyes. She waited for movement...for any sign
of a tightening of his muscles. The moment he shifted his weight, she 
pulled a dagger from her belt and hurled it deep into the chest of one 
of Mish's men. Mish, hearing the "whoosh" of the dagger as it flew 
toward its destination, lunged forward, bringing his sword down heavily 
toward Tara's head. Diving sideways, Tara tucked her head, rolled, and 
threw another dagger...finding the throat of a second of Mish's men. 
This time, when Mish lunged, Tara kicked a chair into his path and 
brought her sword to rest in the chest of third of Mish's companions. 
The fourth, fearing his life was about to end, ran quickly into the 
night. Before Mish could react, Tara had grabbed a tankard from a table 
and had hurled it at his head. Throwing his hand up to block the 
tankard, Mish felt the tearing of his flesh as Tara's broad bladed 
sword exploded past his ribs. He fought to maintain control of his body 
as Tara ripped her sword from his bleeding side. Cursing as his sword 
slipped through hands that refused to function, he watched helplessly 
as Tara whipped her blood-soaked blade in the opposite direction. Now 
there were matching blotches of crimson...one on each side of Mish's 
body. Unable to stand, he fell heavily backward. He opened his eyes to 
see Tara standing over him. Closing them tightly, he begged the gods to 
take his soul before the woman's spittle could find its mark. 

********** 

Tara rode well into the night. She was not afraid of being followed. She
had wondered if the coward who had run into the night was going for 
help. It hadn't mattered to her...she would have welcomed the fight. 
No, she wasn't frightened for her life. She was in a hurry to get 
home...back to where she belonged...back to where her father, long ago, 
had taken his family and followers. She cursed angrily at herself as 
she rode along. Why had she stopped at the inn? There was fresh water 
about. She didn't even like the taste of ale. And why had she referred 
to her father. It only excited the people of the valley. It only added 
to the legend and lore of it all. 

She knew in her heart why she had spoken of her father. She wanted all
within earshot to know that his name lives on. That he did not die in 
vain. That there are, indeed, others that, to this very day, move 
amongst them...in the effort to keep his name alive. That is the reason 
she'd stopped there. That is the reason she had let Mish taunt her so. 


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