#sheyd

The woman had large eyes awash in dark blue and a defiant set to her jaw.  Dried blood streaked down her face and over her lips. 

Slowly, Feyd-Rautha approached.  “You killed nine of my men with one single blade.”

It wasn’t a question, but he did hope for some kind of reaction.  Some evidence of a fierce warrior hiding beneath the surface.

With each measured step, the weight of his side blade shifted in his armor.  Machines are not warriors.  His hand flexed over her weapon and his eyes roamed over her form, calculating.  Weighing her as an opponent.    

She leaned increasingly away as he advanced, almost against her will.  Maybe a deep-rooted survival instinct, creating space between herself and a predator.  A familiar warmth hummed up his spine. 

He waited, looking down on this fighter, her knees biting into the hard floor of the cave.  She was grossly outnumbered and there was nothing in her posture to suggest she would launch an attack.  And yet, she did not cower under the weight of his gaze.

Fire burned in her eyes as she met his stare, arching her neck up from where she had been thrown on the ground.  Blackened, charred birds encircled her. 

Had this desert rat really killed nine?  A rising ache to fight pulsed through him, up and down his arms and legs.  His thoughts raced with possibilities.  What if he kept her?  He could have her thrown in the brig of the ship.  Take her back to Geidi Prime, maybe get a training session or two out of her.  Maybe he could even put her in the arena.  The crowds would go wild over a female opponent, especially one who could fight back properly. 

She held his gaze and boldly raised her chin.  Feyd-Rautha stared down into those hard eyes and knew.  Saw the lethal hatred harbored there.  Truly, it excited him.  But this was not a filthy desert rat or sacred winged bird.  She was a viper.  And she’d kill them all if she got the chance. 

No, he couldn’t keep her.  There was no time and he could not lose focus.  Battle momentum was a crucial military tactic.  He had to burn her. 

“She won’t talk.”  A deputy to her right said, shifting forward. 

Feyd-Rautha glanced at the deputy, taking in the blood staining his underarm.  Likely her work.  The ache to combat her intensified.  But he internally sighed, resigned. 

“Tell her that’s fine.”  Feyd-Rautha handed her blade over to another deputy.  It was a shame he wouldn’t get to test her fighting skill for himself before she was dispatched, but at least she would suffer at his hand for the death of his men.  “I know everything I need to know.” 

He held out his hand for the torch handle and for the first time her proud chin faltered.  The corner of his mouth twitched, “Pleasure is all that remains.” 

Her dark eyes watered and the hatred in them intensified. 

His finger rested over the handle trigger as he directed the spout end towards her, “Does the desert rat have a name?” 

Oddly, this is what made her finally speak up. 

“What difference does it make to you!”  A furious snarl erupted between her teeth and she started climbing to her feet. 

Three deputies lunged forward to force her back down, but he held a hand aloft to stop them. 

He smiled, black teeth gleaming at her.  “None.” 

Standing now, she tipped her chin and glowered.  The woman was taller than he expected, lithe.  Balanced forward on her feet.  Surely she moved with rapid efficiency in hand-to-hand. 

Feyd-Rautha tilted his head, waiting.  “Nothing else?” 

He shrugged, raising the torch once more. 

“I am Shishakli.”  The dried blood cracked over lips as she spoke. 

Feyd-Rautha paused, fixated on the specks of red.  Shishakli.  Shishakli. 

With renewed determination, the woman stood to her full height.

“Shishakli Modun of Sietch Tabr.  A child of the Zensunni Tribe.  And we will not be defeated by you,” she growled. 

Then she reared back her head and spit right at him.  He watched it land on his boots. 

“Shishakli Modun,” he narrowed his eyes at her now, “… of Sietch Tabr.  Prepare for death.” 

Suddenly, a blast sounded from outside and the mountain shook.  Dust and sand vibrated in the air around them, creating a cloud. 

Feyd-Rautha glowered as his commanders scrambled to run outside.  The woman though, he held her eyes and she smiled. 

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I'd like to wish everyone both a happy Purim and a happy St. Patrick's Day today.

Today’s practice comes from Berakhot 6a:6 in which it describes a rituals to see demonic forces around us. The later, is described as exceedingly dangerous and wounded even one if the great Sages of the Talmud, as it is taught by Abba Binyamin “If the eye was given permission to see, no creature would be able to withstand the abundance and ubiquity of the demons” (Berakhot 6a:2) and as we are told by Rav Huna, “Each and every one of us has a thousand demons to his left and ten thousand to his right.“ (Berakhot 6a:4). In fact, the abundance of demons that swarm around us are acredited to why the clothes of the Sages, who do not perform manual labor, still weather and fray as the demons swarm around them (Berakhot 6a:5).