Melcorka of Alba
The Swordswoman Book IV
Malcolm Archibald
Copyright (C) 2018 Malcolm Archibald
Layout design and Copyright (C) 2018 by Creativia
Published 2018 by Creativia
(www.creativia.org)
Cover art by Cover Mint
Edited by Lorna Read
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.
For Cathy
'I am Melcorka the Swordswoman and who dares meddle with me'
Chapter One
The war drums sounded, louder and ever louder, sending bright parrots squawking for shelter, echoing through the humidity of the forest and vibrating in the sultry air.
'They won't be long now.' Melcorka touched the hilt of Defender, her sword, allowing the surge of power to thrill through her body.
'They'll hunt us down and kill us all!' The Taino woman clung to Melcorka's arm. 'Then they'll eat us.'
'No, they won't, Hadali.' Melcorka shook her head. 'Did you order the precautions that I advised?'
Hadali nodded. 'Yes, Melcorka.'
'You dug the ditch around two-thirds of the village?'
'Yes, Melcorka.'
'You readied the palisade?'
'Yes, Melcorka.'
'You sent the oldsters and children to the safest part of the village?'
'Yes, Melcorka.'
'Then all should be well,' Melcorka said. 'I have trained the men and women how to use spears.' She touched the hilt of Defender again. 'The Kalingo are not used to meeting resistance, are they?'
Hadali shook her head. 'The Taino are not a fighting people. We don't resist.'
Melcorka smiled. 'Between us, we will teach the Kalingo not to return to this island.'
'We are not a fighting people,' Hadali repeated.
'I am a fighting woman,' Melcorka said.
'And your man?' Hadali indicated the tall, long-faced man who leaned against the bole of a turpentine tree, thrusting his staff into the sand, listening to everything and saying nothing. 'He does not appear to be a warrior.'
'That is Bradan the Wanderer,' Melcorka said. 'He is a man of peace.'
Hadali eyed Bradan. 'Why are you wandering, man-of-few-words?'
'To seek knowledge,' Bradan said.
'Which knowledge do you seek?' Hadali stood beside him. 'There is much.'
'I seek the knowledge that belongs to me,' Bradan said. 'I saw it once, briefly, and have travelled the world ever since, hoping to recover what I only glimpsed.'
Hadali touched Bradan's arm. 'And Melcorka? Does she also seek your knowledge?'
'Melcorka is her own woman.' Bradan looked up. 'You will soon see what she does best.'
'It is strange for a man who walks in peace to accompany a woman who carries a long sword.' Hadali's gaze did not stray from Bradan's face.
'It is what it is,' Bradan said. 'Melcorka and I have travelled a long road together.'
'Is there an end to the road?' Hadali asked.
'Every road has an end. It could be on this island, at the point of a Kalingo spear, it could be at the bottom of the sea, or it could be in front of a peat fire flame in Alba.' Bradan gave a small smile. 'We will know when we get there.' He looked up. 'It sounds as if your friends are getting restless.'
'The Kalingo are nobody's friends,' Hadali said.
The drums continued, joined now by long blasts on war-trumpets and a rhythmic chant that raised the small hairs on the back of Bradan's neck. A pandemonium of parrots exploded from the trees, while the insects seemed subdued by the threat of the impending horror.
'Here they come,' Melcorka said. 'Keep out of the way until I say otherwise, Bradan. You are no warrior.'
'I know that well, Melcorka.' Bradan tapped his staff on the sandy ground. 'Keep safe.'
Melcorka's eyes were bright. She laughed. 'I was made to fight.'
'Sometimes I think you enjoy it too much,' Bradan said.
There was a clearing between the village and the sea, two hundred paces of animal-cropped grassland which the Kalingo had to cross. Taking a deep breath, Bradan looked around the settlement. He could sense the fear. It was in the sweat of the Tainos, it was in the air they expelled from panting lungs, it was in the shallow breathing and the sharp, nervous gestures of the near-naked men and women. Bradan nodded. He understood the Tainos. They were good people, and Melcorka was right to fight for them.
Standing along the line of the beach, next to the lean pirauas that had carried them to this island, were the Kalingos. They were a seething mass of warriors, preparing themselves for an attack as the thunder of their drums increased, raising the tension.
Amidst them stood a lone woman, staring at Melcorka across the bare ground.
'There are more than warriors among the Kalingos today,' Hadali said. 'Be very careful, Melcorka. There is evil here of a kind you may not have met before.'
They came at a run, hundreds of bare-chested Kalingos with clubs and spears, yelling as they attacked the seemingly defenceless villagers. Some wore a circlet of feathers around their heads, others sported face tattoos. A few stopped partway across the cleared ground to fire arrows into the air, with the shafts plunging down inside the village. Every warrior was painted with bright colours or hideous designs and they raised a war cry to terrify the people they had come to massacre.
'Steady now,' Bradan called, as some of the Tainos shuddered and turned to run. 'Trust in your defences. Trust in Melcorka.'
The Tainos looked at him and then at Melcorka, two strangers from across the sea, two aliens in this island of sunshine and colour.
Hadali stepped beside Bradan. 'If we run, they will hunt us down. I know it is not our way to fight. I know it is wrong to praise violence, but I want to see our babies grow into adults and our oldsters die peacefully in their own homes. I do not wish to see our children skewered above a Kalingo cooking fire, or smell the scent of roasting Taino
