First Witch's Tale

I hadn’t been sure what to expect, over the next two days, but no one said anything about the incident. Nothing. Nothing at all. Cemburu and his cronies sat uncomfortably, and glared at me whenever they could, but they did nothing. I knew it wouldn’t last. Cemburu might be very different from the boys in the village, and he had certainly underestimated me, but at base they were the same. It was just a matter of time before he did something to strike at me, something to convince himself that I hadn’t beaten him with a single punch. His pride wouldn’t allow anything else.

The rest of the class seemed determined to stay out of it as much as possible. I wasn’t too surprised. They didn’t know who was going to come out ahead, or if I was even going to stay, and I suspected some of them were reluctant to take sides against their male peers. Men respect allies, not traitors, even when the allies are allied to a complete idiot who is likely to bring everyone else down with him. It was rare for someone, back home, to betray their friends or fellow villagers. Even if they were in the right, they would be in the wrong.

I stayed behind, after class, to talk to Master Falladine. It was nerve wracking. I had no idea what he thought of the whole affair. Did he see me as a weak woman, very lucky to escape being raped or molested, or did he see me as a student? Still a student? The thought made me grind my teeth in frustration. Back home, woman had a certain degree of protection, but that protection came at the expense of subordinating themselves to their male protectors, their fathers or brothers or husbands. Here … if I needed protection, I would look weak and unworthy of respect. And that I could not allow.

“Janis,” Master Falladine said. “What can I do for you?”

I was tempted to jump around the issue, but I suspected that would just irritate him. “I need to learn more combat magic,” I said. “Will you teach me?”

Master Falladine studied me for a long moment. It struck me, suddenly, that I had no idea how the rest of the tutors felt about the whole affair either. Were they on my side? Or his? I didn’t know anything about Cemburu’s origins, or where he came from. I was fairly sure he was an aristocrat, and clearly not one used to physical exertion, but otherwise … I just didn’t know. I didn’t know, either, how well I was doing compared to the other students. Master Falladine might consider me worthy of extra tuition, or he might not. It wasn’t as if I had any way to pay him, except … I tried not to think about it. I wasn’t going to give anyone my body in payment, even for private lessons. It was unthinkable.

“And how,” Master Falladine said, “do you propose to pay for these lessons?”

I swallowed. Was he implying …? Could he read my mind? I had been thinking about payment and yet … if he could, wouldn’t he know I have no intention of trading sex for anything? If I did that, no one would ever respect me again. Cemburu would call me a whore and he would be right. But what else did I have?

“You need an assistant,” I said. Master Falladine didn’t have a personal apprentice or even a servant, someone to clean up classroom, organise lesson plans and everything else a tutor normally had to handle himself. I didn’t know why - some of the other teachers had apprentices or assistants of their own - but it was all I had to offer. “Give me the extra lessons and I will be your assistant.”

“I see.” Master Falladine said nothing for a long moment, just long enough to make me sweat. “And why do you want to learn?”

I felt a hot flash of anger. Didn’t he know why I wanted to learn? He’d seen me on the floor, helpless, and at the mercy of a young man who thought me nothing more than a servant. Or a serf. Or a slave. The thought powered my rage. I didn’t know how far Cemburu would have gone, if he hadn’t been interrupted, but I didn’t want to believe he would have stopped short of actually raping me. If Master Falladine hadn’t walked in, I could have had my virginity stolen by a monstrous …

“Two days ago, I was nearly raped,” I growled. It was hard, almost impossible, to keep my voice steady. “I want to make sure it can never happen again. And that means I have to learn how to defend myself.”

“Cemburu does not have the nerve to rape anyone,” Master Falladine said, bluntly. If he was shocked at my choice of words, words aristocratic woman were not supposed to know existed, he didn’t show it. “I doubt it would have gone much further.”

His casual dismissal of the threat to my virginity and my life angered me further. “I still need to know how to defend myself,” I said. “I can’t count on anyone to protect me.”