Daughters of Treasure

“Captain, ma’am, excuse.” The voice shook Gennie from the spell of her memories.  

“Aye, what?” She turned to see two young women struggling with a barrel.  

She stepped aside to allow them passage, then eyed the pair as she shook her head. What possessed her to allow hapless urchins to stay aboard. Still she smiled, remembering how naive she had been when she had begun her journeys. She was not much older than the two ambling across the deck.  

“Where are you headed with that now?” Gennie followed the girls, reaching to balance the barrel on her own shoulder as well. “Don’t be carrying more than you are able. I have no desire to have broken crew before we make land.”  

“It’s not heavy, captain.” The darker of the two girls grinned. “Only a little more to make us stronger.” 

Gennie smiled in return. Of the two, Haitsu had proven herself upon first meeting. The girl was an impressive thief, though far too excitable in battle and tight situations, she had a strength of both character and body. 

The weight of the barrel shifted as Haitsu slowed their pace. “Here, captain.”

The girl had never been shy to give an order if the need arose, even to her captain. Though she always followed a command with an apology for overstepping her rank. 

“What are the pair of you up to?” Gennie straightened her sleeves, and her back as they settled the barrel on the deck.

“As ordered, we’re preparing the dancers for training.” Haitsu continued.

With the stress and strangeness of the morning and her dreams it had slipped her attention.

“Of course. And you both are joining as well. It’s been too long, and a fight is in the wind.” Gennie removed her coat and tied the sleeves around her waist. 

She reached into the barrel she had helped the girls carry and drew a battered sword from within. She scowled at the condition of the weapon. 

“Sun Tzu wouldn’t have counted this as acceptable.” 

“Sun Tzu probably wouldn’t have counted any of us as acceptable either.” Haitsu shrugged.

“Oui. mais, you and these are what we have. So, gather the daughters of treasure, and let’s be on with it again.” Gennie twirled the blade. 

Haitsu drew a breath and released a call that rolled to the core of the ship. It was a gift and a curse, the girl had the lungs of a banshee. It took little time for the gaggle of harem girls and dancers to gather on the open deck. 

As swords, staves, daggers, and harpoons were passed around Gennie hopped upon a crate. 

“A story before we begin!” She sent her voice over the small gathering. “Some motivation perhaps, or warning.”

“In the year 512 BC., the great King of Wu tested Master Sun Tzu. He commanded him to train the royal harem of one hundred and eighty concubines as soldiers.” Gennie swept her sword over the crowd. “Sun Tzu, a man of great honor and military prowess, divided the tittering females in two companies and appointed the king’s favorites as commanders.” She stopped the point of the blade at Haitsu, and again at a small pale girl with red hair. 

The redhead snickered and crossed her arms. 

“The concubines giggled at Sun Tzu’s order too.” Gennie tipped her brow. “This did not phase Sun Tzu. The great commander told the king that his position as general was to ensure the soldiers understood the order.”

 The women continued to listen to Gennie’s retelling, as well as a few others who had gathered.

“Upon reiteration of the command, the harem giggled once more. Sun Tzu ordered the execution of the favored concubines.” Gennie jabbed a finger at the smirking harem girl. “Of course, the king protested! Sun Tzu however, explained, it was the position of these appointed officers to enforce soldiers’ compliance to the general. Once appointed, it was a general’s duty to carry out his mission, even against royal protest.” 

At this, Haitsu turned a thumbs down in  the direction of the other girl. Two more of the dancers took the girl by the arms and hovered her over an open barrel of stale water. 

The girl protested only a moment before they unceremoniously dunked her into the soup. 

“There’s always one.” Haitsu nodded.  

“Following this test of character, and the execution of the king’s favorite girls, both harem companies performed their maneuvers flawlessly under the rule of newly appointed officers.” Gennie finished her telling by tossing her coat to the dripping girl. “Take up your weapon. You’ll dry faster if you are moving.”

The girl’s cheeks were near as rudy as her hair as she did as she was bid.

“Un! Deux! Trois! Quatre! Cinq! Six! Sept! Huit! Neuf!” Gennie’s voice carried over the deck as the tip of her blade glinted in the midday sun.

Gennie shook her head at the disheveled attempt at synchronicity before her. “You are dancers, are you not?”

“Only some, Korsana.” The front most woman in veils and silks rotated her shoulder as she allowed the sword in her delicate hand to droop.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Marrick’s sarcasm was an unwelcome tone in Gennie’s ear as the man sidled beside her. “You aren’t very good at the sword, what makes you think you can teach them?”

She sighed as she scanned the clutch of harem hens that had opted to join Ecstasy as escape from cloistered captivity under the Sultana’s rule.

“Non.” Gennie jammed the cup of the sword into Marrick’s chest. “Voila. Perhaps you can do better with them, than you did with me then?”

Gennie marched toward the closest woman and grabbed her sword hand.

The woman pulled away and crossed her delicate arms wrapping the silk veil over her soft shoulders, leaving Gennie holding the weapon.

A flash of gems were revealed across the woman’s breasts as Gennie tore the veil from the woman’s shoulders. “This restricts your movement.”

“Ay!” The woman grabbed at the veil, “Emshi!”

Gennie forced the weapon into the harem girl’s open arms. The veil, she held away. 

It was the glint in Gennie’s eye though that struck the woman. “Do you think your harem will be so cozy when you are returned to it?” Gennie’s gaze fell upon each of the dozen or so pretty faces arrayed on the deck. “You are on my ship, my Ecstasy. I was not slave to your Sultana par ce que I was willing to fight.” 

“We fought.” The interruption was swallowed back as it hung in the air. “We did.” The speaker looked about at her harem sisters for support.

“C’est vrai,” Gennie swept the veil around her head and shoulders. “dans the palace, against a few eunuchs.” Gennie offered a crude gesture. “Practically little girls, aussi. Mais, you must continue to fight out here, and when we make port, all the more.” 

A look passed among the gathered women.

Marrick staggered back as Gennie snatched the sword from his hands. “You are on my ship. You will earn your freedom.” 

“Korsana, dit.” Gennie’s lips formed each word carefully. “Beddek hada?” She shook the veil.

All attention was on Gennie and the one of theirs who stood defiant before the Korsana who freed them. The young woman’s eyes darkened, determination crossed her jaw; but her delicate hands gripped the sword.

“Na'am – Aaywa” She took the stance as trained, but did not count as Gennie had.

The look she cast over her shoulder to her harem sisters was an unspoken command. It was one Gennie knew well.

“Wahid!” She swung the sword high over her head and drew it through the space between her and the Korsana.

Gennie did not flinch, though she saw the shift in the eyes of the girl and allowed a smirk to dance across her face.

“Ithnan!” The harem girl drew the upturned blade to project from the point just at the waist of her silken harem pants. 

A second veil filled Gennie’s hands as another, in shimmering green, took up the blade both recognized from the Sultana’s treasury.

“Thalatha!” More voices and blades cut the horizon with unnerving synchronicity.

Gennie took a step back, to close the space between her and her first mate, she smiled and tipped her head to look at the man.

“Arba’a!” They sliced the horizon a second turn. 

Veils lay in pools at the feet of the women in only glittering bras and sheer flowing pantaloons. Gennie nodded, her eyes glinting like the bosoms of her new army.

“Khamsa!” A wave of soft, graceful shoulders jutted to the fore as blades struck the boards of the ship like a roll of thunder.

“Sitta! Sab’a!” Gennie smirked at Marrick’s flinch from the imagined score to the back of one knee then the other.

“I can’t wait to show the Topolis.” Gennie considered how this display might be received by others as well. 

De Xavier, or better still, the master of the sword himself, Theodorick. It had been a long time since she had seen the pair of duelists. 

“Thamaniya!” The harem’s dance thrust another shoulder forward in a glittering final thrust that drew Gennie’s hands in applause.

“Tis’a!” Every perfectly pampered arm leveled at the heart of invisible adversaries.

The deadly beauty was worth the afternoon of shade-less repetition of maneuvers. 

“Tu voit.” Gennie slapped her hand against Marrick’s arm and snatched the blade from his grasp. “Je sais. Cette la, mes femmes des treasure.” Gennie laughed. “Non, ma bint Hazine.” She shoved the veils into Marrick’s arms.

“Allez! Encore!” She directed the concubine she first unveiled. “Mais, in your tongue.”

The woman’s eyes lowered in obedience. “As you say, Korsana.” 

“Voila.” Gennie tapped the back of her hand against Marrick’s chest. “What do you say now, mon ami?”

Marrick did not immediately respond as his eyes dazzled at the glistening bodies and glittering attire and the sun glinting off synchronized blades.

Marrick looked from bint Hazine to his captain. “And now that you’ve trained your shimmering Spartans.” he stared in wonder at the stunning killing machine Gennie had begun to forge. “What will you do with them?”

“I will have my very own personal guard. To rival that of any emperor, or sultan. They are distracting in all those jewels.”

“Mesmerizing.” 

The music of bint Hazine singing numbers in the tongue of the Sultana floated over the decks, drawing more crew to join the training.