THE THORIAN SAGAS: 1. THE TRADER. (Completed).

Time to end this.

She was confused, as they all were, but he saw also, a changing expression on her face as she sat there and went over in her mind all that they had done in combat-- brief as it had been-- and what he had said; what she had learned, and what she was still learning.

She looked up at him.

"You made it seem so easy."

It had been. But at least he had not totally destroyed her.

"It was, easy (he would not lie to them). But you were up against far more than you could possibly know. No one has ever beaten me in wrestling, or in combat of any kind anywhere on the interval lands, not even a Thorian when they come into Saltash."

That was the second or third time he'd mentioned Thorians.

And he'd even wrestled with them? And had beaten them?

There was much more to this 'trader' than met the eye. For one thing, he was not a Yunk. He was definitely not a Yunk, but he was, definitely, a man. A man like this one should not be turned loose in their city! He should not even be here. It was surely against the treaty.

He held his hand out to her, gratified that she took it, as he drew her to her feet without effort, and then passed her tunic over to her to put back on, hiding her body away from him.

He was thankful for that.

It had pleased him to see her without clothes; stirring other feelings and memories. Those other, primitive feelings that a man had, had not been entirely submerged within him.

Monique was trying to find some explanation for her inability to touch him, but they also had a bigger problem they would soon need to deal with. Him!

"We train each day. We practice for hours, and with our weapons too, and yet... this."

He came back at her gently.

"But you have never fought for your lives, as I do almost all of the time."

Even on his way here, against those Frexes. Some of them had many bones broken; necks, backbone, ribs; throats torn away. Others had not a mark on them, as though he had used his bare hands on them in a different way.

He must be terrible in combat!

What would they not give to see him do any of that?

But they were forbidden from leaving the city.

"You are protected in this city, and have grown complacent and overconfident with never being challenged."

He spoke the truth.

"We will never be able to match your strength, Stoker."

They needed to be lifted up, and shown what they were capable of, if they put their minds to it.

"You don't have to. And that is the first thing that you should learn. I am not invincible. One day I will be defeated and brought low and to my knees. Maybe even by one of you."

Unbelievable!

But it was a thought to hang onto.

Yet also inevitable!

"The way you fight someone like me, is to use my own strength against me, and you start with this." He tapped his head... "and these" ... he pointed to his eyes. "You think; and you observe. Every person, every man, has a weakness."

"How?"

"Come. I will show you. Your first real lesson."

It was an easy transition to make; from combat opponent, to teacher, and would help to soften her defeat.