Intimidation Tactics

"Afraid of a woman?" He scoffed, "And one not even pretending to be armed? No, I'm not afraid. The one who should be afraid is you, mother-to-be."
Amry smiled secretively, but Selyn was angry. A low rumbling sound filled the air - she was growling. Amry put a hand on her arm in warning but was shrugged off.
"Let me teach this rodent a lesson," Selyn asked. "I'm itching to stretch my claws."
Amry was about to refuse when she saw the contempt in the man's sneer.
"Now don't you mind what your nurse-maid said," he taunted. "You're a big enough girl-"
Amry's nod was barely perceptible, but Selyn was waiting for it. Bone and cartilige crunched as a bear's paw slammed into them - even on a human arm it was frighteningly powerful and Selyn's animal snarl left him cowering. Almost immediately the paw lengthened, grew catlike, with long and vicious claws. The man whimpered.
"That's enough, Sel," Amry cautioned. Blood was gushing from his nose and pooling on the floor between them. "It isn't fair to lay hurt on someone weaker than you."
"Weaker?" The man spat blood as he spoke, "I ain't weaker'n no woman! She's a damn witch."
"Druid," Selyn corrected coldly.
"Ain't never seen a druid beat on nobody before," he insisted. "They're peaceful folk, druids. I don't believe you are one."
Selyn snarled again under her breath. She didn't speak again until they were well out of town.
"He was right, you know," she said suddenly, glancing over her shoulder. Amry shook her head.
"He was hurt, body and pride. You can't take any notice of what people say when they're hurting."
The cart jolted and she winced - Selyn cringed.
"Please, Amry," she begged. "Can't we take a room somewhere, just until the child is born? Every rut in this gods-cursed road could be the one that -"
"Enough," Amry interrupted. "I'm not afraid of that. There's healer magic in this body, and in the baby too. She'll take a little bumping around, and forgive us both for any discomfort in the process. This is important."
"We're not in such a rush to be there."
"More of a rush than this child."
Amry sighed and stretched out her legs, rearranging the stack of pillows propped behind her back. They rode on in silence a while longer, but Selyn could not forget what the man had said.
"Druids don't fight," she burst out. "It's a - it's like a code. We... commune with nature, maintain the balance. We're mystics, not warriors."
"And why is the first form they teach you that of a bear?"
"Well, so we can defend -"
"Ah. I see," Amry interrupted.
" - ourselves," Selyn finished. "And the grove, if it is under threat. But that's different to being a warrior."
"Come on, Sel," Amry argued. "You've seen the tapestries, and the mosaics. The painted urns. The mile-long mural on the Lycian Temple! Do you call our ancestors liars, or do you believe a bear would just fight at a warrior's side? That the trees littering a battlefield just happen to be mysteriously human-shaped?" The scorn in her voice stung. "The druids have long been a powerful ally to all they stood beside. Whether or not we agree with the side they chose."
Selyn hated to think of those druids who were corrupted by the power they drew from the earth. It was like admitting that your brother was a murderer. Selyn knew Amry had mentioned them deliberately.
"I took an oath of peace!" She said, frustrated tears pricking at her eyes. "I swore, and every violent act I commit is an act against my kin."
"Do not talk to me about kin," Amry snapped. "Kin do not leave a young woman to be starved, beaten, and bled half to death in a sultan's pleasure-house, peace-oath or not."
Selyn did not reply. She wanted to defend her family's actions, to explain that nothing short of an attack would have released her from the sultan's hold, and that such an attack would have ruined the druids' reputation. Claiming to be a druid would damage that image too, she realised, as long as she was going to be acting against their code.
"I'm not a druid any longer," she whispered, half hoping Amry would hear her. "Just a masterless shapeshifter."
"You would claim to be a renegade?"
So Amry had heard her.
"The druid forms are easily recognised in even remote villages. Few 'shifters dare to use them."
Of course that was true, Selyn thought sadly. She could never be a bear again, or a spotted, long-fanged cat. For the first time she was glad that she had not been tree-hearted. The healer-druids used this tree form to draw power from the earth. Their flesh turned to wood, and their toes to roots that sought down, deep into the earth's power. She had heard that it was the most dangerous form, impossible to give up. Some of the realm's greatest healers lived on yet in legend, and in the rumour that they were merely sleeping in their tree shape, drinking in the earth's magic.
"Well," Selyn replied firmly, trying to sound confident. "Then I suppose it is time for me to learn a new shape."
Amry seemed unaware of the significance of this decision - a clink of coins told Selyn that she was counting their money again. It did not take long.
"We couldn't stay anywhere even if we wanted to," she sighed. "Pretty soon we're gonna have to hunt for our dinners. Or perform. I heard you leanred some tricks during your schooling?"
"Yes, like making people who irritate me, disappear," Selyn growled.
"You know what I mean. Sleight of hand."
"They told us it was good for discipline," she said. "And a way to make at least a scanty living in the unfriendly cities. You don't need to speak the language if you're charming enough."
"Or intimidating enough," Amry muttered.