BattleHymn part 2 by Zach Ricks

BattleHymn, Part 2

BattleHymn, Part 2 Copyright ÂŠ 2011 by Zachary Ricks The audio podcast version of Battlehymn by Zachary Ricks is licensed under a Creative Commons AttributionNonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. All other rights are reserved by the author. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at madpoetfiles.com. Sign up for updates and new episodes at exiles.madpoetfiles.com.

BattleHymn, Part 2 Scene 3, Chapter 1 Steak, Interrupted Shem scooped Maya up as he saw the black-limbed cyborg leap through the intervening space towards the little Okifelli man in his booth. He pushed in a panic for the booth entrance, pulling his guitar behind him, but his feet tangled in the table’s legs. He crashed to the ground with the guitar on top. Maya complained about the sudden grab and drop with a loud yowl that seemed much bigger than her tiny frame could produce. As he struggled to get his feet under him without putting down the guitar or the cat, he saw a sudden flash of silver and heard a wet sounding impact. Suddenly, the cyborg was howling in pain, a slender knife protruding from his left shoulder. The giant man reached for it with one arm, then there was a sound of sparks and arcing electricity and the cyborg's arms and legs froze up. He began swearing loudly, cursing out Ichigo and his Cohort, and began making allusions as to the supposed parentage of both. Ichigo Kamiyama calmly stepped out of the booth and strolled over to the cyborg. Shem watched as the little man removed the knife from the big soldier's shoulder, wiping blood from the blade with a nearby napkin, and extending it hilt first to the young woman who'd accompanied him. He wore a wide, slightly disturbing grin. “We’re professionals, McGuffin,” the little man said. “Well, at least I am. Which means that I do not take losses on the field personally. That’s a trait it would be wise of you to develop if you’re going to last long in the business.” Then his grin fell away. “Also, given that you attacked us first, and you apparently have no way to defend yourself, I’d probably recommend against any further antagonization of my self or my companion.” Naji held up the knife, and the large man closed his mouth, staring at the young woman. Ichigo tapped the paralyzed man on one of his metallic shoulders. “Good. Given your recent history, I’d be looking for any advice I could get at this point.” Shem tucked Maya into his thigh pocket as he rose and started edging towards the door. Without looking back, Ichigo chuckled. “The young man behind me has more sense than you do, McGuffin.” Shem froze. “At least he’s

BattleHymn, Part 2 attempting to make a tactical retreat in the face of a sudden realization that he’s lacking important situational intel.” Ichigo smiled back at Shem. “Of course, then he won’t get his steak, and I won’t get to thank him appropriately.” Shem shrugged. “That’s all right. I’m still not sure why you feel the need to thank me. And I’m sure it was nothing, really.” He took another half-step towards the door. “Besides, I do have an appointment I need to be on time for.” Ichigo nodded, and Shem felt a hand on his shoulder. The young woman, Naji, leaned into him and whispered in his ear. “I’m sure we’ll get you where you need to be.” Shem shivered, though whether it was at some implied menace or the feel of her breath on the back of his neck, he couldn’t say. “Just so,” Ichigo nodded, giving Naji a curious smile. He kicked the paralyzed man in the shin. “What did you do to him, Naji?” “I was aiming for the motivator interface. Looks like I hit it, too. He’ll need a few minutes in a chop shop, is all.” She smiled widely at the paralyzed cyborg in the same disturbing way Ichigo had a moment earlier. “Neil McGuffin, taken down by a girl barely out of her teens. Wouldn’t want that story to get around, now would we?” The big man scowled at her, but he kept silent. Naji turned her grin to Shem, and he blinked at the ferocity of it. “All the same, we can’t leave him here,” Ichigo said. “Give me a moment, and when the waitress comes out from hiding, have her move us to the back, and order me a hot tea and the skewers, would you?” Ichigo stepped away and took a small data pad from underneath his poncho. Shem glanced back at Naji, who had stepped back toward the kitchens to find the no doubt cowering waitstaff. This was his chance to make a break for it. He could be out the door and off to… To where? His home? What if they followed him? He’d seen how good the woman was with a knife. And this odd man was evidently her superior. He had to assume Ichigo was, if anything, more capable than she had shown

BattleHymn, Part 2 herself to be. And just because they hadn’t killed this crazy man who’d come in attacking them was no guarantee that they would extend him the same courtesy if he tried to run. His mind raced. Who knew what they really wanted? He couldn’t help but feel a certain curiosity over what they thought he’d done, and why they wanted to thank him, and why the young woman was reacting so strongly to what had happened. Then again, she seemed like a loose cannon, and a pretty face was no reason to go sticking his head into a situation he knew nothing about. How did the little man put it? Lacking important situational intel? Maya meowed at him, breaking him out of his momentary reverie. He turned to go for the door and made it two steps before he felt Naji’s hand on his shoulder. “Hang on there, rabbit. We’re not going to eat you. Today.” He turned back to see her maniac grin aimed at him. The grin didn’t reach her eyes, though. He was trapped. Shem let her lead him to a booth in the back where the shadows were deeper and he took the proffered seat. His own seat faced away from the entrance, he noted. He placed the guitar in the booth against the wall, and took Maya from her spot in his pocket. The cat curled up in his lap once he’d settled down, indicating that she expected that he would stay planted for a change. He couldn’t help smiling at her, shaking his head. Silly cat. The waitress came out and took their orders. Shem ordered last, ordering two specials, one to go, and produced his coupon. The young woman laughed. “Planning ahead, huh? Good for you.” Shem shrugged. “I was planning on the two dinners anyway.” The two stared at each other for a moment in silence. “So, who are you guys, really?” “The Kami Cohort, kid. But I should probably let Ichigo do the talking. Apparently he thinks I’m skipping the appropriate introductions.” Yeah, she wants to skip introductions and go straight to interrogations, Shem thought to himself. He considered her for a long moment. Her face was freckled, but she had an Okifelli slant to her eyes. Her black hair was pinned

BattleHymn, Part 2 back from her face, and though it was hard to tell under the poncho, Shem thought she probably had a stunning figure. He blinked - he’d been staring. He blushed, and started talking in an effort to fill the awkward silence. “So what do you do, aside from knife throwing?” He reached for the glass of ice water. The young woman grinned at him - this time the grin covered her whole face like the sun breaking out from behind a cloud. “I make messes and break stuff. I’m an armor pilot.” Shem struggled to hide his surprise, which was difficult to do as water spewed from his mouth. The girl laughed. “I love doing that.” She handed him a napkin to wipe his face and shirt. Maya looked up at him in disapproval over the outburst, but settled back down and tucked into a curl. Ichigo appeared at Shem’s shoulder. “McGuffin’s people will be by to pick him up shortly. His second has offered a formal apology on his behalf, and he was a little relieved when I let him off the hook for any financial compensation.” He eased into the booth, chuckling darkly under his breath. “Not that McGuffin’s cohort has been doing all that well since they split off from the Devils.” Shem gave them both a blank look. “Ah, forgive me,” the small man said. “We’ve been talking shop and you’re still not sure why you’re being offered dinner.” The little man paused, looking at Shem over the tops of his fingers. “Where to begin? Tell me, have you ever heard of a Skald before?” “Like when you’re burned by water?” “No. No, no no. Skald, with a K, not a C. A bard of ancient tradition, whose songs it was said could inspire the hearts of men, calm the beasts of nature, and even turn the paths of nations.” Shem looked around. “Bards? Like the old storytellers? In today’s age? Uh, no.” Naji scoffed, and Shem saw the disbelieving look on her face. “Where have you been, under a rock?” 6

BattleHymn, Part 2 Ichigo placed a hand on her arm. “Naji, quiet. Most people lack your experience, and I’m sure they’re happier for it.” He turned back to Shem. “Did you notice anything unusual about the crowd in the square today?” Shem shrugged. “They seemed pretty interested in what that woman was saying.” He thought a moment. “And Maya…” He glanced down at the cat in his lap. “Maya was acting strangely. That’s why I was humming to her. She likes to hear me sing.” He thought again about the crowd. And how he’d felt a strange pull to stop and listen to the speech himself despite having almost zero interest in politics. Calming the beasts of nature… He laughed out loud to himself. He was almost believing this? What was wrong with him? He looked up at Ichigo, shaking his head. “Really? Magic singing?” Ichigo shrugged and opened his mouth to reply, but just then, the waitress arrived with their meals. The potato really was about as big as a grown man’s head, and the steak was well seasoned - salt and pepper, with a hint of cayenne. They fell to with gusto. Shem hadn’t realized how hungry he was. After a few bites, he shredded a bit of steak and waved it over Maya’s head. She glanced up at him with a single blue eye, and deigned to allow him to feed her. Shem chewed the juicy, tender steak as thoughts swirled in his head. Why had he felt the need to stop and listen? He’d seen other political demonstrations before, and never felt particularly inclined to hear them out. Music was what interested him, not who wore the Imperial crown. And Maya’s reaction had been extremely odd. He’d never seen her that tense. Ichigo broke the silence after giving his skewers a moment’s attention. “Magic singing, eh? Hmm. Let’s see. You noticed the crowd was acting oddly. Your cat was acting oddly. And you reacted to that oddness by humming a tune, which calmed your cat, and you walked through the square even though everyone else was enthralled by the speaker’s oration. Including the two of us, until I heard someone humming softly behind me. Maybe it’s not magic, but it certainly is interesting.” Ichigo placed another large chunk of beef in his mouth and began chewing, his face

BattleHymn, Part 2 neutral. Naji’s expression was still hostile, though to whom, Shem couldn’t say. He took another bite, chewing over his own thoughts as well. Shem frowned as he chewed. “So, the woman was, what, hypnotizing you with her voice? That still seems hard to believe.” Ichigo shrugged. “It’s not exactly hypnosis. It’s a little more complicated than that. And the talent isn’t all that common. Most skalds are discovered early, then sequestered and trained by the Royal House.” Shem pushed his clean plate away and leaned back in the booth. “So why didn’t it work on…” he paused. “Right, my humming. I couldn’t hear her clearly because I was humming to Maya.” Ichigo nodded. “And you were directly behind us when you started humming a little louder - not a lot, but enough for it to catch my attention, and I just followed your humming out of the crowd - dragging my companion here with me.” Naji glared over at the little man, who was just finishing his own dinner, and dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. He set the napkin down. “So, Shem, I wanted thank you for your assistance, though it was rendered only in passing and by happenstance.” The older man bowed his head deeply at Shem. “Thank you very much.” Shem returned the nod, troubled by the show of gratitude. “It was nothing, really.” He glanced up at the clock. “And I do have an audition to get to. Thank you very much for the meal.” “Audition?” Ichigo’s eyebrow raised a fraction. “For the local community cultural authority. They’re looking for local artists to play for the upcoming festival season.”

BattleHymn, Part 2 Ichigo nodded, reached into his poncho and withdrew a small slip of plastic which he offered to the young man as he stood and secured his cat and guitar. “Please accept my card. My ship, the Tangram, is docked at Riverside port, berth 14. If your… audition… doesn’t go well and you would consider a change off-world, I think a young man with your voice could go far.” Shem accepted the card with a bow. “Thank you again, sir, but I hardly think a… private security contractor would have much need of a singer-guitarist.” Ichigo smiled. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to come by good entertainment in some of the places we work. Not to mention that when we’re not on mission, Haven isn’t exactly the most thrilling place in the galaxy.” “Haven?” Shem’s ears had pricked up. “You guys are from Haven?” Ichigo nodded. “Yes. Haven is our home base, and one of the Cohort’s functions is as a security force for the station itself.” “I’d heard it was nothing but outlaws and derelicts out there. No offense.” He added, holding up his palms. Ichigo’s maniacal grin returned. “None taken. And you can’t believe everything you hear. Haven’s actually a pretty nice place. A little rough around the edges, but nice. And we help make sure it stays that way.” “Well, thanks. But I think I’ll pass for now.” He pocketed the card. “Thanks for dinner.” He nodded at Naji, who was sitting stony faced with her mouth firmly shut. Her steak was barely touched. Ichigo didn’t speak, he just smiled and nodded. Shem walked out the door, tucking the packaged dinner under one arm, and hoisting the strap of his guitar case over his shoulder. Magic singing. Mercenary armor drivers. Haven. He shook his head. “Maya, you meet the strangest people once you get out of the shelters.”

BattleHymn, Part 2 The cat meowed in agreement as they headed toward the cultural center.

BattleHymn, Part 2 Part 4, Upbeat Naji watched as Shem left the restaurant. She glanced back at Ichigo. "So, what was that all about?" It came out a bit harsher than she’d meant it to. Ichigo scraped the last of his potato skin off the plate and chewed it slowly without looking at her. He took a sip of water. Naji fidgeted as she waited for him to finish. Finally he spoke. “What was what all about?" “That kid didn't know about skalds?” she hissed. “How is that even possible?" "Sheltered life. In more ways than one." Ichigo waved the waitress over and paid for the meal with a pass of his data pad. “He was wearing the kind of shirt you normally see on a resident of the local state orphanages. Don’t ask me how I know that. The educational regimen isn’t exactly demanding in Scythir city, and that’s worse in the shelters. No real teaching of history, not much in the way of current events, even. And skalds aren't exactly the kind of thing you discuss in primary education." He stood. “Let’s go.” Naji followed him out. The gray sky looked like it might almost be clearing, and it would be a pleasant afternoon to get some shopping done. As they turned toward the docks, Ichigo tapped on his data pad and raised it to his ear. “Hello, Jared. Ship ready? Good, I want her prepped for departure tonight…” Naji’s ears pricked up. They had originally planned to be on Scythir for at least another two days. “… Right. Well, tell them to express the supplies, and we’ll pay the extra. Oh, and one more thing.” He looked over at Naji as he spoke. “Warm up an Aelfar… right. No, no. Armor only, no ordinance… right. Be there in a few minutes.” Naji scoffed. “What the hell was that all about?” Ichigo shrugged. “A funny feeling. Probably nothing. Probably.” He stopped walking, staring off down the street, not looking at anything in particular. Naji hated it when he got like this. He could be a real inscrutable Okifelli 11

BattleHymn, Part 2 bastard sometimes, especially when his instincts kicked in. She stifled a sigh, and tried to keep her eye rolling to a minimum. “Right, well, whatever. I’ll be back at the ship by dinner.” She turned to go. “I’m sorry. Where do you think you’re going?” “If we’re leaving tonight, I’ve got a couple places I want to hit before we go.” “Next time, Naji. Next time. You’ve got an audition to attend.” “WHAT?” She whirled, poncho flaring around her, revealing a hint of the red shipsuit she wore underneath it. “You want me to tail this kid? And don’t tell me, let me guess. You want me to do it in an armor? In the middle of the Imperial City?” Her jaw clenched as she glared down at her commanding officer. "Yes," Ichigo said, nodding. “Keep an eye on this kid. At least until this audition of his is over. I’ve got a bad feeling about it.” Naji’s jaw worked as she sucked her teeth in frustration. "Is that an order?" Ichigo nodded. “Yes. Your shopping is going to have to wait until the next visit. You can pick up all the books you want via the shipboard 'net connection." Naji's shoulders slumped. “Aw, come on, Ichigo! It's not the same to me and you know it.” “No.” Ichigo chuckled. “I’m not hauling another load of paperbacks into orbit so you can stay entertained with trashy novels you're just going to toss in the burner as soon as you're done with them, Naji. And something tells me that this kid is going to need someone at his back." Naji sulked as she followed Ichigo toward the Tangram’s dock. She looked left and right. "Too bad, kid's gone. And who knows how many auditions are being held here in town today. Guess we lost him. Oh well.” 12

BattleHymn, Part 2 “Mmm. Yes. Too bad. I guess you'll have to wait for him at the cultural center. Or follow the tracker in the card I gave him.” Ichigo tapped at his data pad, and a moment later Naji’s pad buzzed with a message. "There's the address of the cultural center, and an id for the tracker signal. No way of knowing the schedule, so you might be there a while." Naji's eyes narrowed, and her lips crinkled in a sullen frown. “Yes, sir. You think this kid is an undiscovered skald, don’t you?” Ichigo shrugged. “It would make sense. Explains why his humming blocked the effect of that witch in the square.” “And knowing that’s what he might be, you want me to be the one to make sure he’s okay?” She felt her shoulders tensing, and a sudden pain in the palms of her hands as her fingernails bit in. She released her fists with an effort of will. Ichigo nodded once. “I’m afraid it has to be you. I need to make sure the Tangram is ready for an abrupt departure. David’s laid up, and even if he wasn’t, you’re a better urban pilot than either of us.” Naji blinked at the unexpected praise. “But if you give me any more chaff on this issue, I’ll dump your sorry carcass here on Scythir and you can hitch your own ride back to Haven.” Ichigo continued, not looking back at her. “I don’t mind you acting like a sulking brat when we’re on shore leave and no one’s shooting at us because under fire you’ve kept it together. But right now, I don’t have space or time for your personal hangups, my dear. Not today. Not any more. Time to let it go, Naji. There’s too much at stake.” He looked back at her over his shoulder. “So, deal. Or don’t, and be cut loose.” She felt a hole open in her stomach. “Fine.” She glared at the shop displays that mocked her with their enticing colors as they passed. “What do you think is going to happen when he auditions?”

BattleHymn, Part 2 Ichigo’s face lost its stony gaze and he smiled sadly at her. “What else, Naji? Trouble.” He turned down a side street to avoid the crowds in the square and the strange effect of the woman’s speech. “I expect trouble. With worse to come. And I want us ready for it.” Naji followed. Her sulk kept creeping out around the edges. Screw this kid, she thought. And screw all skalds.

BattleHymn, Part 2 Part 5. Movement. “Your hips need to move more, dear. Again.” Cassandra Brunhilde Montgomery MacTaggart Stuart, Princess of the Commonwealth, daughter of Akosh the Just, (which Cassandra knew enough not to joke about in front of her mother, or really anyone else), lifted her hips and swayed to the music. The dance she was learning was apparently from Old Earth, and her performance of it was considered a matter of utmost importance by her mother, Queen Joviell. Which was why the Queen herself was instructing her daughter in the dance. As music came over the screen that divided the small chamber from the musicians, Cassandra began the dance again. Bracelets and anklets jangled at the end of her limbs. The flimsy-looking costume concealed more than revealed, hinted more than showed, but the hints drew the eye and the sound enticed the ears, and the whole thing made Cassandra cringe on the inside. She was a princess of the realm, and here she was putting herself on display like a common tavern wench. “Cassandra dear, you’re forgetting the cymbals.” Cassandra continued the dance, tapping the cymbals on her fingers in time with the motion of the music and her body. The Queen, regal in her robes, blonde hair streaming artfully down her shoulder, rapped her baton against the floor of the dance chamber. At the sound, the music stopped, and Cassandra froze. “My darling, there is an art to this. Its intent is meant to draw the eye and inflame the passions.” The Queen approached her daughter, who stood frozen in her position. The Queen’s voice grew quieter, a whisper as she stood next to her daughter. “It is meant to make the man you dance it for desire you. Desire you enough to do anything to possess you.” She slowly circled her daughter. Cassie immediately thought of a prowling jungle cat. The wrong move could make it strike without hesitation. The wrong move could lead to death. As Queen Jovielle

BattleHymn, Part 2 passed behind her, Cassie glanced over at the corner where her lady-in-waiting, Ailer, sat. She was the very picture of impassive observation, wearing a carefully neutral expression, hands folded in her lap. Cassie tried her best to emulate Ailer’s calm. Meanwhile, her mother was speaking. “I danced this dance for your father, Akosh, when he was a minor noble with little prospects and no chance for advancement. When he was little more than an occasional chess opponent to your Great Grandfather, Esrom the Abdicator, may his soul rot.” Her lips turned up in a sneer. “And when I was done, Akosh was willing to do anything to have me…” She leaned in, barely hissing into her daughter’s ear. “Anything…” Jovielle’s hand came up to her daughter’s back, stroking the fine blonde hairs at the nape of her neck as she gave Cassandra a frank look. “And now I am Queen. With this dance, this dance that you seem to hold such disdain for, this dance you are struggling to capture in your… clumsy, flailing way, I conquered the heart of a man, and in so doing, I conquered the entire Commonwealth.” Cassie kept her eyes straight ahead, not daring to so much as glance in her mother’s direction. Her breathing stayed steady. Her face remained calm, despite the sense of dread she felt whenever she was in the presence of her mother. “In order to inflame the passions of others, your own passions must enter into the dance. Sit. Observe.” She inclined her head toward the bench that sat under the bright window full of sunlight. Cassie nodded, taking her arms down, and moving quickly to sit on the rose-stone bench. Queen Joviell shrugged out of her robe, revealing a blood-red strapless dress that hugged her figure while allowing free movement. “Think of the man you want,” the Queen said, raising her arms above her head. “And when you have that image in your mind, think of all that you will do together.” Her lips curved in a knowing smile. “Maestro,” she called, “Again, please.”

BattleHymn, Part 2 The music came over the screen, sensuous and languid, and the Queen moved to it, moving sinuously through the positions of the dance. Each flip of the wrist, each turn of the ankle, each sway of her body meant to entice the eye. Cassandra watched as her mother danced. She dared not look away. She would have to perform this dance, make these motions, and use her body to gain power. Power for her family. Power for her mother. She was a pawn, a second daughter, never to rule, but to be used - oh, yes - used for the family. Even as the family squabbled and feuded, even as they drew apart to clutch a piece of the Kingdom as their own, still, Cassandra must be the proper princess. Arom’s fate had shown her the danger of speaking her mind. She’d done that with Arom, and he’d spoken his own mind in turn. And look what had happened to him. She studied intensely the motion of her mother, trying to freeze in her mind the way she danced. The dance grew faster, her mother twirling and writhing, turning and gasping, coming at last to her knees… before the King, who had entered soundlessly. “It is always a pleasure to see you dance, Jovielle, my love.” Her parents looked deeply, hungrily into each others’ eyes, and at that look, Cassandra looked away. There were some things that should not be observed, and this was one she could safely turn away from, claiming that the bond between man and woman was sacred, and should not be impinged upon. She smiled and lowered her head, affecting the embarrassed daughter. “Practice, my daughter. Practice, and perhaps one day you will be queen.” Queen Joviell rose from her kneeling posture, and embraced her husband with a languorous passion. They kissed deeply, and he lifted her from her feet, carrying her with his thick arms and broad shoulders back through the halls of the palace. Joviell leaned up to whisper in her husband’s ear, and they laughed.

BattleHymn, Part 2 Cassie watched the door swing shut behind them, and rose from her position. This dance, as so many other things about the house of Akosh, shamed her. But she remembered the lesson her brother had taught her - the last lesson of Arom, and she assumed her position at the beginning of the dance, hands held high over her head. Perhaps she could not inflame the dance with the earthy passion of her mother, but she would dance it as best she could. And she would survive. After all, the first rule of the house of Akosh had always been survival of the fittest. “Maestro!” she called, and the music started again… TO BE CONTINUED...

BattleHymn, Part 2 About the Author: Zachary Ricks is a writer, publisher, podcaster, and attorney. He learned to read at a young age, and had the benefit of a mother who read to him regularly. However, when he was five, his parents made the tactical error of taking him to see Star Wars. He's been a fan of genre fiction ever since, scaling his parent's bookshelf to get at his mom's collection of Piers Anthony, Alan Dean Foster, Terry Brooks and Edgar Rice Burroughs novels. He lives in Austin TX, with his wife and daughter. Find his current writings at madpoetfiles.com, and his publishing venture - Flying Island Press - at www.flyingislandpress.com.