The Light Warrior Files
Part 9: The Shield Maiden
By Chris Ward
She let me talk. For the next hour she listened as I came completely clean, concealing
nothing. She only stopped me a couple of times so she could check some of the food on
the stove. When I finished she sat still for several minutes, apparently lost in thought.
When she finally spoke, there was a gentle firmness in her voice that I have only rarely
heard, before or since. The gaiety which usually underlay her tone was completely absent
as she said, “Lucius, do you remember what I told you when we discussed my moving in
here?”
That one, I had to admit, caught me completely off guard. It took me a couple minutes to
remember, primarily because it had been a little over 2 weeks since that particular
conversation. “Well, sort of. We were down at Antonio’s over in Manhattan. We had just
ordered desserts when you brought up the idea, nearly making me choke on my wine as I
recall. I seem to remember you saying something about destiny bringing us together. I can’t
remember exactly, sorry. I was a bit distraught at the time.”
She flashed a small grin at me, “Just a little bit.” Her face and voice once again grew
serious. “What I said was that, whether you accepted or even knew it or not, fate had taken
a hand in our lives, and we were made for each other.” She got up and mover around the
island, sitting down next to me. Taking my hand, she brought it to her lips and gently kissed
the knuckles, holding it as she finished her statement. “We may not be married yet, and I
may not have taken the vows before you, God, and mi familia, but that doesn’t matter. Since
the day I first saw you at the club, weeks before I first asked you to dance, I have known
that our destiny lay together.
“When I moved in with you I made your struggles mine. I became more than just your lover,
more than just your friend. I became your confidante. What was it you said that woman
called me?”
“She called you the Shield Maiden. Why?”
“Do you realize what she was actually saying with that?”
“Not really. She claimed that to be the way she saw you in her vision, but that’s all I know
about it.”
“You obviously don’t know what she was really saying then. It means that she saw me as
more than simply a woman who was your partner and shared your bed, and it means she
saw me as more than just a Warrioress. Any woman can share the bed of a warrior, just as
any woman can fight. The Shield Maiden, however, was something special. She partnered
with a warrior, and they were frequently lovers. But that was not the extent of the
relationship. She fought by his side, but she was also his protector, shielding him with her
own body if needed. She was his healer, his comforter. If he fell on the field of battle, she
guarded his body, sacrificing herself if so required. It was an intense, passionate
relationship which few have ever been able to fully understand.”
She laughed suddenly, the sparkle back in her eyes and the gaiety back in her voice. “But I’
m already all of that, and you are my chosen warrior. Your victories are mine, and mine are
yours. All things are shared between us, victories ad defeats, joy and despair, love and
hate. We are joined, you and I, by more than just our choices. We are two separate people,
yet we are one entity.” Squeezing my hand in hers, she finished, “What you face, we face.”
Suddenly unable to easily speak, all I managed was, “Thanks.”
“Let me guess, you were worried that I was going to think you completamente loco, or that I
would think you were lying to me?”
Swallowing against the lump that had finally decided to become mobile, and on the edge of
tears, I quietly said, “No. Actually, I was terrified that you’d leave me.”
Her glorious eyes suddenly widened, glistening with unshed tears. Gently she raised a
hand and laid it against my cheek. “¿Dejar? No, mi amor. ¡Jamás!” We were silent then as I
allowed the warmth of her hand and her voice remove the last of the dread that had
threatened to consume me.
After several minutes passed, she pressed her fingers to my lips and walked over to the
stove in order to check the food. Finishing my salad and water, I went to the sink and
washed out the bowl. Reaching into the minibar, I pulled out the rum, pouring about ¼ glass
before putting it away. Going to the refrigerator, I dropped in about four ice cubes and
topped it off with Coke. Back out in the living area, I grabbed the tape Builder had created
for me. Out of curiosity I put it in the VCR to see what, if anything, was on it. He was as good
as his word. It contained three National Geographic documentaries. I only made it through
the first one and half of the second when Marita called me from the kitchen. “Lucius?
Supper's just about ready. Go ahead and take a shower now, because you won’t get a
chance later.”
Well, with a promise like that, who was I to argue? I hopped into the shower, and did my
business. Coming out, I climbed into a pair of khaki slacks and a navy polo shirt. As I left the
shower, she was just heading in with an armload of something I couldn’t quite make out.
When I asked about it, she just flashed me a wicked smile and said, “Later.”
After I set the table, lighting the candles and arranging the food, she walked in. She was
wearing a black wrap dress that was tight in all the right places. I couldn’t quite place the
perfume, but was definitely interested. Formality seemed the order, so I took her arm and
guided her to her seat at the table. After the wine had been poured and the salad served, I
brought up a subject I had been unable to think of how to discuss earlier. “Marita, do you
remember the talk we had earlier?”
With a smile she replied that of course she did, so I pressed on. “You didn’t seem overly
shocked that I told you I had a special ability, or even when I told you I had met others who
had different, but still unique, abilities. If you don’t mind me asking, why?”
“Why wasn’t I surprised?”
“Yes.”
Taking a sip of her wine, we ate a few bites of salad while she gathered her thoughts. “You
know that I spent the first ten years of my life in Pachuca De Soto, right?” Nodding, I
allowed her to continue. “It’s a modern city, by Mexican standards, and is a tourist
attraction. Everything the Americanos could want is there, for a price. Despite all that,
however, it is still a distinctly Mexican city, with Mexican beliefs pervading it. The Mexican
people have long had a keener belief in the supernatural than our northern cousins.
Although the practice isn’t as popular in more modern cities, a lot of the remoter villages
still practice rituals designed to keep the evil spirits away, and to allow their deceased
loved ones passage into the next world. Many houses, even in the larger cities, will have
charms and amulets scattered throughout. In many of them, this is nothing more than
tradition. However, for what are still a large number of them, it is more. They are following
the traditions, in the hopes that the blessings they want will come, that the Evil One will not
be given entry, and in the hopes that they will be protected from various evil spirits.”
Having both finished our salads, I served the chili.
After I sat back down, she continued. “All of that is to say this; I am predisposed, by
upbringing as well as by personality, to believe that there is more to life than we can see. I
tend to live my life by the philosophy contained in a single line from Hamlet. It’s an aside
from Hamlet to Horatio, and he says ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’
“That’s pretty much how I live my life. I accept what I see as what is real, but am willing to
believe that there are things we can neither see nor easily explain.” Looking across the
table at me, she suddenly smiled again. “Besides, you’re the one who told me.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that, even had I not been inclined to believe that such things could exist, the fact
that you told me about them was proof that they did.”
Shaking my head, I swallowed another spoonful of chili. “I’m sorry, Marita. I’m not tracking
here.”
“You couldn’t lie to me, even if you wanted to. I know you too well. You’re a man, one of the
all too few, to whom honor still means something. I know I can trust you. You could no more
lie to me than you could cheat on me- not that I ever anticipate giving you reason to do that
either.” Another slightly naughty smile peeked out at me. Then she continued, “Once you’
ve given someone you’re word, even if it wasn’t in words that you did so, you hold yourself
bound to it. That iron hard sense of honor is one of the things I love about you.”
Puzzling my way through all that, I was a little flabbergasted at what it boiled down to. “So,
you’re saying that you believed what I said, simply because I said it? What about the note I
left, that was an obvious lie.”
She didn’t even miss a beat. “Actually, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I woke up enough to hear your
end of the conversation. You had to go, to find out what he wanted. But you also wanted to
let me know you were leaving. The note said that you were handling an emergency call.
That was true.”
“I thought I told you I was handling an emergency call from a client?”
“Nope. You may have wanted to, but you didn’t. All that the note actually said was
‘Emergency Call. Got to go. Could be hours. Back ASAP.’ Nothing more.”
Now that she mentioned it, I remembered writing those words as I flew out the door. We
finished the rest of the dinner in an agreeable silence.
After dinner was over, we cleaned the table and stacked the dishes in the sink, putting
what little food remained in the refrigerator. Reclining into the overstuffed chair, we
watched a video she had picked up while out, Casablanca. After it was over, we both
started getting ready for bed. She took over the master bathroom, so I had to brush my
teeth in the main one.
When I walked into the bedroom, however, I was forcibly reminded of what she had said
earlier about buying something else that she thought I’d like. She was standing in the
bedroom door, through which I could see the lights had already been turned down, wearing
a very short, very sheer black chemise. With a smile that was no longer vaguely naughty,
she asked, “Do you like it?”
There was no appropriate answer, so I went over and kissed her. As the kiss became
longer and more intense, she removed my shirt, breaking the kiss only long enough to take
it over my head. When I felt her hands move to my waist, I kicked out of my shoes and
socks, and slid the chemise from her shoulders, listening as it fell in a puddle around her
feet. As she stepped out of it, we moved toward the bed.
Part 9: The Shield Maiden
By Chris Ward
She let me talk. For the next hour she listened as I came completely clean, concealing
nothing. She only stopped me a couple of times so she could check some of the food on
the stove. When I finished she sat still for several minutes, apparently lost in thought.
When she finally spoke, there was a gentle firmness in her voice that I have only rarely
heard, before or since. The gaiety which usually underlay her tone was completely absent
as she said, “Lucius, do you remember what I told you when we discussed my moving in
here?”
That one, I had to admit, caught me completely off guard. It took me a couple minutes to
remember, primarily because it had been a little over 2 weeks since that particular
conversation. “Well, sort of. We were down at Antonio’s over in Manhattan. We had just
ordered desserts when you brought up the idea, nearly making me choke on my wine as I
recall. I seem to remember you saying something about destiny bringing us together. I can’t
remember exactly, sorry. I was a bit distraught at the time.”
She flashed a small grin at me, “Just a little bit.” Her face and voice once again grew
serious. “What I said was that, whether you accepted or even knew it or not, fate had taken
a hand in our lives, and we were made for each other.” She got up and mover around the
island, sitting down next to me. Taking my hand, she brought it to her lips and gently kissed
the knuckles, holding it as she finished her statement. “We may not be married yet, and I
may not have taken the vows before you, God, and mi familia, but that doesn’t matter. Since
the day I first saw you at the club, weeks before I first asked you to dance, I have known
that our destiny lay together.
“When I moved in with you I made your struggles mine. I became more than just your lover,
more than just your friend. I became your confidante. What was it you said that woman
called me?”
“She called you the Shield Maiden. Why?”
“Do you realize what she was actually saying with that?”
“Not really. She claimed that to be the way she saw you in her vision, but that’s all I know
about it.”
“You obviously don’t know what she was really saying then. It means that she saw me as
more than simply a woman who was your partner and shared your bed, and it means she
saw me as more than just a Warrioress. Any woman can share the bed of a warrior, just as
any woman can fight. The Shield Maiden, however, was something special. She partnered
with a warrior, and they were frequently lovers. But that was not the extent of the
relationship. She fought by his side, but she was also his protector, shielding him with her
own body if needed. She was his healer, his comforter. If he fell on the field of battle, she
guarded his body, sacrificing herself if so required. It was an intense, passionate
relationship which few have ever been able to fully understand.”
She laughed suddenly, the sparkle back in her eyes and the gaiety back in her voice. “But I’
m already all of that, and you are my chosen warrior. Your victories are mine, and mine are
yours. All things are shared between us, victories ad defeats, joy and despair, love and
hate. We are joined, you and I, by more than just our choices. We are two separate people,
yet we are one entity.” Squeezing my hand in hers, she finished, “What you face, we face.”
Suddenly unable to easily speak, all I managed was, “Thanks.”
“Let me guess, you were worried that I was going to think you completamente loco, or that I
would think you were lying to me?”
Swallowing against the lump that had finally decided to become mobile, and on the edge of
tears, I quietly said, “No. Actually, I was terrified that you’d leave me.”
Her glorious eyes suddenly widened, glistening with unshed tears. Gently she raised a
hand and laid it against my cheek. “¿Dejar? No, mi amor. ¡Jamás!” We were silent then as I
allowed the warmth of her hand and her voice remove the last of the dread that had
threatened to consume me.
After several minutes passed, she pressed her fingers to my lips and walked over to the
stove in order to check the food. Finishing my salad and water, I went to the sink and
washed out the bowl. Reaching into the minibar, I pulled out the rum, pouring about ¼ glass
before putting it away. Going to the refrigerator, I dropped in about four ice cubes and
topped it off with Coke. Back out in the living area, I grabbed the tape Builder had created
for me. Out of curiosity I put it in the VCR to see what, if anything, was on it. He was as good
as his word. It contained three National Geographic documentaries. I only made it through
the first one and half of the second when Marita called me from the kitchen. “Lucius?
Supper's just about ready. Go ahead and take a shower now, because you won’t get a
chance later.”
Well, with a promise like that, who was I to argue? I hopped into the shower, and did my
business. Coming out, I climbed into a pair of khaki slacks and a navy polo shirt. As I left the
shower, she was just heading in with an armload of something I couldn’t quite make out.
When I asked about it, she just flashed me a wicked smile and said, “Later.”
After I set the table, lighting the candles and arranging the food, she walked in. She was
wearing a black wrap dress that was tight in all the right places. I couldn’t quite place the
perfume, but was definitely interested. Formality seemed the order, so I took her arm and
guided her to her seat at the table. After the wine had been poured and the salad served, I
brought up a subject I had been unable to think of how to discuss earlier. “Marita, do you
remember the talk we had earlier?”
With a smile she replied that of course she did, so I pressed on. “You didn’t seem overly
shocked that I told you I had a special ability, or even when I told you I had met others who
had different, but still unique, abilities. If you don’t mind me asking, why?”
“Why wasn’t I surprised?”
“Yes.”
Taking a sip of her wine, we ate a few bites of salad while she gathered her thoughts. “You
know that I spent the first ten years of my life in Pachuca De Soto, right?” Nodding, I
allowed her to continue. “It’s a modern city, by Mexican standards, and is a tourist
attraction. Everything the Americanos could want is there, for a price. Despite all that,
however, it is still a distinctly Mexican city, with Mexican beliefs pervading it. The Mexican
people have long had a keener belief in the supernatural than our northern cousins.
Although the practice isn’t as popular in more modern cities, a lot of the remoter villages
still practice rituals designed to keep the evil spirits away, and to allow their deceased
loved ones passage into the next world. Many houses, even in the larger cities, will have
charms and amulets scattered throughout. In many of them, this is nothing more than
tradition. However, for what are still a large number of them, it is more. They are following
the traditions, in the hopes that the blessings they want will come, that the Evil One will not
be given entry, and in the hopes that they will be protected from various evil spirits.”
Having both finished our salads, I served the chili.
After I sat back down, she continued. “All of that is to say this; I am predisposed, by
upbringing as well as by personality, to believe that there is more to life than we can see. I
tend to live my life by the philosophy contained in a single line from Hamlet. It’s an aside
from Hamlet to Horatio, and he says ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’
“That’s pretty much how I live my life. I accept what I see as what is real, but am willing to
believe that there are things we can neither see nor easily explain.” Looking across the
table at me, she suddenly smiled again. “Besides, you’re the one who told me.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that, even had I not been inclined to believe that such things could exist, the fact
that you told me about them was proof that they did.”
Shaking my head, I swallowed another spoonful of chili. “I’m sorry, Marita. I’m not tracking
here.”
“You couldn’t lie to me, even if you wanted to. I know you too well. You’re a man, one of the
all too few, to whom honor still means something. I know I can trust you. You could no more
lie to me than you could cheat on me- not that I ever anticipate giving you reason to do that
either.” Another slightly naughty smile peeked out at me. Then she continued, “Once you’
ve given someone you’re word, even if it wasn’t in words that you did so, you hold yourself
bound to it. That iron hard sense of honor is one of the things I love about you.”
Puzzling my way through all that, I was a little flabbergasted at what it boiled down to. “So,
you’re saying that you believed what I said, simply because I said it? What about the note I
left, that was an obvious lie.”
She didn’t even miss a beat. “Actually, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I woke up enough to hear your
end of the conversation. You had to go, to find out what he wanted. But you also wanted to
let me know you were leaving. The note said that you were handling an emergency call.
That was true.”
“I thought I told you I was handling an emergency call from a client?”
“Nope. You may have wanted to, but you didn’t. All that the note actually said was
‘Emergency Call. Got to go. Could be hours. Back ASAP.’ Nothing more.”
Now that she mentioned it, I remembered writing those words as I flew out the door. We
finished the rest of the dinner in an agreeable silence.
After dinner was over, we cleaned the table and stacked the dishes in the sink, putting
what little food remained in the refrigerator. Reclining into the overstuffed chair, we
watched a video she had picked up while out, Casablanca. After it was over, we both
started getting ready for bed. She took over the master bathroom, so I had to brush my
teeth in the main one.
When I walked into the bedroom, however, I was forcibly reminded of what she had said
earlier about buying something else that she thought I’d like. She was standing in the
bedroom door, through which I could see the lights had already been turned down, wearing
a very short, very sheer black chemise. With a smile that was no longer vaguely naughty,
she asked, “Do you like it?”
There was no appropriate answer, so I went over and kissed her. As the kiss became
longer and more intense, she removed my shirt, breaking the kiss only long enough to take
it over my head. When I felt her hands move to my waist, I kicked out of my shoes and
socks, and slid the chemise from her shoulders, listening as it fell in a puddle around her
feet. As she stepped out of it, we moved toward the bed.
