Tales of Red Sonja

Menagerie: Chapter Four

In which Red Sonja gets her kit back on.

The man shrugged and did as he was told. Behind him he heard splashing as Sonja waded out of the river. There was a long pause. He waited patiently.

Eventually: "You can turn back now."

The man did so and was astonished at what he saw. He'd already seen that Sonja was red-haired and comely, and had noticed the sword and various pieces of armour that she'd left on the bank. What he hadn't expected, however, was to see her down on one knee before him, her head bowed. Her sword was in her hand, but she was holding it by the blade, as if offering him the hilt.

"My name is Red Sonja," she told him. "I owe you my life, and I have never yet failed to repay a debt." She paused before adding, "I'm sorry I shouted at you. I'm – sensitive about certain things."

The man gave a short laugh. "For someone who's sensitive, you seem to wear very little."

Sonja's head jerked up and there was a flash of anger in her eyes. "What I choose to let men see," she told him in a cold voice, "is my own affair. What I choose not to let them see is my own affair, also." Then in a quieter tone she continued, "I wear this armour because I choose to wear it. A strange choice, I allow: but I have reasons for it."

"Fair enough."

"But you haven't told me your name."

"I'm Jharlen. My village is a couple of miles upstream from here."

Sonja looked at Jharlen. He was a youngish man, full of vigour. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was jet black. He wore it long, tied in a pony-tail. He was humbly dressed – both his trousers and his jerkin showed signs of having been mended more than once. His bow was of simple yew, but well made; as was the quiver he wore at his waist. His muscular forearms showed him to be an experienced archer. For a second, Sonja wondered if he was as handy with any other sort of weapon.

"Then thank-you, Jharlen."

"You're welcome."

"What was that – thing?"

"I've not seen it before, but I fear it was one of Galud's creations."

"Galud?"

"A wizard. By the way, you don't have to kneel to me, I'm not a prince. And you can put that sword away as well. I've never used one, and don't want to either." Sonja was vaguely disappointed to hear this, but rose to her feet and sheathed her blade.

"Lucky for you I was out hunting this way," said Jharlen.

"Indeed. I think I'd like to meet this wizard, Galud."

"No, you wouldn't."

"You don't know me very well."

"Hardly surprising, since we've only just met. I'm not trying to order your comings and goings; but since Galud lives in the Howling Tower and that's two days from here on foot, then you may as well make other plans for the evening. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, actually."

"Then come to my house. I can offer you a hot meal and a bed for the night. In truth, I'd welcome the company.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said hastily as Sonja's eyes grew furious again. "I meant that it would be pleasant to have someone new to talk to."

"I'm sorry," Sonja said, lowering her head shamefacedly, "but there have been many men who think – well..."

"I'm sure there have been. But as far as that sort of thing is concerned, I've not touched a woman since my wife died, more than a year ago."

"So you live alone?"

"With my daughter. She should have the supper ready soon."

Presently they came to Jharlen's village. Sonja was shocked. It was clear that it had once been a prosperous place, even a happy one. But evil times had clearly befallen it. She could see it in the faces of those who silently watched her approach.

Jharlen led the way to one of the larger huts and pulled aside the leather curtain that served as a door.

"Clodia? I hope supper's ready?"

"Yes, Father," came a voice from within.

"Good. Lay another place – we have a guest."

Sonja stepped into the hut. It was simply furnished, but scrupulously clean and tidy. A girl of about fourteen emerged from what was presumably the kitchen.

"Greetings," she said, standing with her hands on her hips, staring at Sonja.

Sonja was used to being stared at, and returned the girl's gaze levelly.

"Sonja," Jharlen said, "this is my daughter, Clodia. Clodia, this is Red Sonja."

Clodia gave a slight nod, which Sonja returned.

"You know what you need?" Clodia asked.

"What?"

"A comb."