Page 35 of Swamp Kings 1

“I think it was a first for all of us. My name is Spar. And no need to feel stupid. As foolish as it was, it was still brave. What’s your name?”

She swallowed, finding her throat dry as ancient parchment. “Scarlett. Sister Scarlett.” She remembered her manners and gave a curtsy with a little head bow, feeling like a clumsy convent girl.

“Well, Sister Scarlett, I will need to file a report and possibly a restraining order.”

Instant terror and dread brought her hand to her mouth right as he laughed.

“I’m kidding. Where are you from and who taught you how to rear mount like that?”

Her mouth wobbled and bobbed as her brain tripped over itself. “Kansas. Salina Kansas. I’m the youngest of five. All girls. But… I was the tomboy. My… father wanted a son and so I… I tried to become strong.”

She lowered her head as shame burned her cheeks at the personal info dump.

“I guess if you wanted, I could teach you a few moves. You can be my first female student. Then you can teach your other sisters.”

“Now that’s a good idea,” Rex said. “Given the current state of affairs.”

Scarlett shook her head. “I don’t fight. My hands are used for praying.”

Spar’s laugh boomed inside her blood and chest. “Tell that to my face.”

“I’ve never—”

“You said you was a tomboy,” Rex reminded in a gentle chide.

“I surely have used my hands in ways that God would not be proud of. I left those ways when I became a nun.”

“Uh oh,” Rex said. “We in trouble with the Big Man.”

“Nothing wrong with violence if you’re protecting the innocent,” Spar said, his tone rough. “What say you, Sister Scarlett?”

That blasted fish syndrome returned. “I think… my job and your job are different. Some are called to violence by the will of the Lord for his own purpose. What is in a man’s heart judges his actions. And… I don’t know what’s in your heart.”

“So, you protect our souls while we protect your… holiness,” Rex chuckled.

“You still should know how to defend yourself,” Spar said.

His gruff tone brought her gaze up to try and understand why. “The Lord is my defense. Sir.”

“I agree. And here you are, standing with the leader of the combat hatch. After attacking him with your praying hands. Drawing blood. To protect the innocent.”

She didn’t like the corner he was pushing her into. Her pulse beat a wild rhythm as she thought about what was right. Sometimes God’s ways could be very unseemly. She considered things from such an angle, and it occurred to her. “Here I am, yes. And here you are. Standing with a warrior of Christ. I do wonder now which of us was meant to meet who.”

Rex laughed, with a “Woo-whoo-whoooo, a warrior of Christ! Feel that bayou burn, boss.”

“Very impressive,” Spar said, his approval working its wonder in her tense guts. “I suppose I accept. Do you?”

Fish mouth mode activated. She stared at him, confused. “What do you accept?”

“Your spiritual warfare training. That’s your specialty?”

Her head knew more than she did on the matter, nodding the answer for her.

“And do you accept the purpose of your fate in this? Do you accept physical training so that you can defend the innocent in all things?”

She stammered about in herself, realizing he’d again put her in a corner. “I must… obtain counsel from my peers on such a matter. We are called to spiritual warfare.” She cleared the weakness from her throat. “We fight not against flesh and blood but against powers in high places.”

“Sounds like a kick-ass good time,” Spar said, like she’d added a bonus. “Now you’ll be a spiritual warrioranda physical one. Works out perfectly since your spirit is housed in that little innocent body.”

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