DOOM EMERGED FROM the cargo hold, carrying Tiwaz in his arms. The sullen woman looked at no one, her arms crossed so tightly she appeared to be hugging herself. He settled her on the raised hatch with the rest of their gear that consisted of what they had from Shurakh Arln as well as donations from the ship’s captain and crew. He sat beside her as they dropped anchor, careful to stay away from the crew’s industry. The gromek watched with a keen yearning to help them, having been an eager student to their work.

He glanced at his friend and sighed softly. “Ti, stop glaring holes in the deck. These people are our allies. They’re helping us.” Wordlessly, she only turned her head slightly to glare up at him. He shook his head. “Do you really think anyone is going to think you are weak? You stood up against Alimar the Black! You’re a hero to them. A legend.” Looking annoyed, she turned away to resume staring at a knothole in the wood.

Doom rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment before standing. He approached the captain, glancing towards the idyllic, uninhabited cove before them. He watched as the crew took down the sails and new ones with a different emblem were hoisted onto the mast’s frame. “Why are you changing sails?” he wondered.

The man followed his gaze and chuckled. “Ah, my ugly friend, we are changing the sails to make our origins more appealing to the next port we will be docking in. You see, some folks are reluctant to or forbidden from trading with those from certain regions. Political quibbling and all. We don’t interfere in their politics or their wars. Most port authorities know very well what merchant ships are doing. But since they don’t want to see their own business hit, they turn a blind eye to it.” He gestured towards the slack sail cloth. “Sometimes no one cares what is underneath. They just judge things by what they see on the outside.”

“You did not,” Doom observed. “I am grateful to that.”

“Bah,” the captain said, his weathered face turning red with embarrassment. “I’d learned long ago not to judge what is seen by what really is. Used to trek in the Southern Wildlands when I was more boy than man. Not with your master,” he qualified. “But I’d seen what he’d done many times. Don’t blame a single being for their distrust of outsiders. But they’d shown me kindness despite him. Alive because of it. This is my way of returning the favor.”

Doom smiled, a frightening thing on his features. “Whatever your reasons, I thank you.” He glanced at Tiwaz, his smile fading into worry. “Tiwaz would thank you, too, but she is…not the most sociable—”

“She is a fighter. Prideful things, fighters. Hate looking weak in anyone’s eyes. And she’s no reason to trust anyone to see her like this.” The captain patted his arm. “Treasure that gift of trust, Gromek. Most don’t realize how priceless trust is until they’ve lost it.” The man looked back at Tiwaz, then up at Doom. “If you want, you could stay on with us until we find a better port, if you understand my meaning. Even stay on as part of my crew if you wanted. Your friend, too. Could always use a couple more strong backs and sure she’d daunt any pirates who’d dare try boarding us once she’s healed up.”

The young gromek blinked in shock at the kind offer, never having felt welcome by anyone anywhere but at his companion’s side. He started to accept, then looked at Tiwaz and sighed. “I want to accept more than I have words for, Captain, but I cannot. Tiwaz knows our former master better than anyone and she’s right. If Alimar starts to hunt us and he could discover you aided us. You and your crew would be endangered. We don’t want to be the cause of anyone’s suffering by his hand. We will be fine here.”

The man sighed heavily. “If that’s what you want. Still wish we could do more for you.” He looked over at the sailor who waved at him. “We have the boat lowered. Once you and your gear are on it, we’ll lower Tiwaz down to you. Er…” He glanced at her. “If you think she’ll allow it. Hate to say it, but she’s not looking much better than when you first came aboard save she’s awake. Wouldn’t want her to hurt herself fighting our manhandling.”

“I’ll talk to her.” Crouching by Tiwaz, Doom touched her chin lightly, turning her eyes up to meet his. “Ti, I can’t carry you while climbing the ladder to the dinghy without hurting you. The sailors are going to lower you down to me, okay?” He worried about her silent glowering as she averted her eyes, a blatant admission of her awareness of her poor condition. Nevertheless, he was grateful there was no argument forthcoming.

With the dexterity built up from years of surviving Griffin Isle’s gigantic wildlife, Doom swung himself over the side and easily climbed the swaying rope ladder the sailors used. He stood, easily balancing in the wobbly craft as the sailors lowered Tiwaz into his arms. Her eyes flashed with silent irritation and keen mistrust. Holding her close, he sat and nodded to the other man in the tiny craft. With slow, powerful strokes, the burly sailor with them got the tiny boat moving.

“There be a storm coming ‘fore the sun’s down!” the helmsman called after them. “Make sure ye find some good shelter!” Doom signaled acknowledgment of the advice. He looked at Tiwaz’s sickly pale face and sighed quietly, but said nothing. Once near the sandy shore, the sailor held the craft still as Doom got out carrying Tiwaz then unloaded their gear, setting it well away from the rolling surf.

Only after they were ashore and the sailor was on his way back to the Trade Winds, Tiwaz began to squirm. “Ti, stop that, or I’ll drop you.”

“Put me down!” she hissed irritably, struggling to be free of his hold.

“You aren’t strong enough to stand yet!”

“I don’t care.” She pushed at his chest but could not even come close to overpowering him. “I will not look weak in strangers’ eyes any longer. Put me down!”

“Oh, that would look wonderful.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “The world’s greatest gladiator trips and falls on a sandy beach because she doesn’t have the strength to lift her feet.” Her pride pricked, she stopped, her demeanor sullen.

Once they reached the shoreline where the grass held the sand more firmly together, he put her on her feet and helped her sit in the embrace of an ancient tree’s over-sized roots. Her flashing green eyes watched him while he carried their gear over.

He glanced over his shoulder as the ship weighed anchor and drifted away. As he sat the last of the gear on the ground beside her, he said, “I am going to go see about finding us shelter like the helmsman suggested. You stay here and get some rest.” He smiled inwardly at her vexed look. “Someone needs to guard the supplies. I can only do so much by myself.”

“Fine,” she replied dourly. Warmed by the sunlight, the woman’s eyes started to close despite her best efforts to stay awake. Doom smiled and disappeared into the thick greenery. The hilly terrain yielded a promising location not far from the beach. The softer soil had eroded from beneath an upwelling of rock, creating a shallow, cave-like depression.

“This is perfect,” he said to himself, scanning the sky as he stood near the overhang. “Should protect us from any storms and the brush will serve adequately as camouflage and protection.” He had only just started clearing debris from inside when he heard ungodly shrieks from the beach. And a familiar, albeit weak, battlecry. “Ti!”

He bolted back to find his companion missing and their gear scattered. Dark red stains that starkly contrasted with the white sand betrayed the earlier struggle. “Ti!! Where are you?” A groan of pain in the trees answered him. He found Tiwaz collapsed over the body of a porcine-like creature, the bag of food lying nearby. He knelt by her, carefully turning her over to rest on the incline of his thighs. His heart sank. “Oh, no.”

Despite having no weapons, Tiwaz fought the thieving creature and broke its thick neck with her bare hands out of sheer will. For a gladiator, it was a merciful killing, quick and clean. In the arena, trainers and owners encouraged if not outright demanded fights last as long as possible for the audience’s entertainment. It was a telltale sign she knew she could not sustain a prolonged fight, doing what she needed simply to win.

Tiwaz, however, suffered for her victory. Without looking at the gaping wound where it had gored her abdomen with its tusks, her raspy breathing belied broken ribs having punctured her lungs. No amount of healing skill would save her life as weak as she was.

Doom wished he could cry like humans to vent his grief. The gromek had never seen Tiwaz cry since Alimar had captured them, but he knew the ability and the many reasons humans wept. He could not even do that. His voice caught in his throat. “You should have let it go, Ti. The supplies were not as important as you.”

Eyes opened and she stared at him as if she had no idea what had happened. “You told me to guard the supplies,” she pointed out in a weak voice. “I did not want to fail you.” She looked troubled. “I won, didn’t I? I saved the food?”

Doom blinked a few times as he struggled to find his voice. “Yes, yes of course you won, Ti. No one has ever beaten the Warrior.” He bit his tongue, but not before she noticed the hesitation.

Growing anger flared in the depths of pain-soaked eyes. “Except who? Who has ever defeated me, Doom?” Her tone hard and anger plain, he knew no amount of placating would soothe her, and he could not lie to her.

He opted for honesty to keep her from causing herself more suffering. “Death, Ti. You won this fight against that…thing. But Death will still win. Your injuries are beyond my skill.” He saw her expression cloud, adding gently, “Everyone is beaten by Death eventually. I guess this is…this is your time.” His voice broke over the last words and he looked away. “At least I kept my promise to you.”

When he looked away, she tried to sit up to comfort him. Distraught at being the cause of his bewildering distress, her thoughts were only for him. “Doom, I’m fine, see? I am not—” She grimaced, looking down at the sharp pain moving caused. Having become used to pain over the years, she stared at her abdomen with an expression of shock, touching her blood with disbelief.

Her gaze moved from her trembling, gore-covered hand to something in front of them he could not see. The defiant glare was one he knew well, and he felt her tense. “Relax, don’t strain yourself.”

“No one defeats the Warrior without a fight. Do you hear me?” she demanded of the invisible opponent before her. “I will never submit meekly!” With inhuman effort, she pulled herself to her feet and lunged with both hands outstretched to rip out an invisible throat, her battle-cry a mere gurgle.

Doom watched helplessly as she collapsed on the sandy ground, not fast enough to stop her. He clenched his teeth and fists to suppress his grief, rolling her onto her back again, expecting to see her wounds made worse. He drew back. “What in the hells…?” The horrid gash began to close, her skin turning an even whiter hue, the rattle in her breath easing. Fresh blood oozed from beneath the golden shackles on her wrists in ruby rivulets down her arms. He hesitated only a moment before he gathered her and held her close.

With a gusty sigh, Doom gently laid her down. “Just a moment, Ti.” He shouldered the bag of food she had fought so hard for, then tied a rope to the dead creature. He gathered Tiwaz into his arms again and returned to the beach.

He laid her in the sun, moving the bloodied tatters of her shirt to examine the site of her wounds. The dreadful bruising hinted that the healing was not thorough, only enough to keep her alive. “I do not know how or why, but thank you to whatever powers that kept you alive, Ti,” he said fervently. He stroked her hair affectionately. “I don’t care how long it will take,” he told her. “We will not be going anywhere until you are in better shape to travel.”

With a tenderness belying his sheer size and horrifying appearance, he carried her to the shelter he had found. Brushing the backs of his fingers along her cheek, he murmured, “I’ll get the rest of our things. Sleep well. You have earned it.”