Text Size-- 10-- 11-- 12-- 13-- 14-- 15-- 16-- 17-- 18-- 19-- 20-- 21-- 22-- 23-- 24
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Duke Rilfe of Gensea sat enjoying a late breakfast, at the same time trying to enjoy his company for the meal. Kylin sat with him at the very small board set up in the duke's study, and someone who didn't know better might think that young Kylin had been drinking. The King's Fighter ate heartily enough, but he also babbled on about nothing that could be easily followed.
In point of fact Kylin had already interrupted himself three times to tell three totally unrelated stories. One of the stories had been hilarious, but not nearly as outrageous as Kylin's attempts to look calm, cool, and completely in control of himself. Rilfe had been fighting not to show that he noticed anything unusual, but it finally came to him that ignoring the problem could hardly be considered a kindness.
"Kylin, listen to me," the duke said at last with a sigh, finding it necessary to touch the younger man's arm and repeat himself before the flood of the other's words faltered. "Kylin, if you don't calm down you'll be a nervous wreck for the ceremony, and that won't be of help to anyone. In two more hours you'll be my daughter's husband and my heir, something we've been trying to accomplish for the last week or more. If you pass out because you're strung so tight, you won't have much fun at the Feasting afterward."
The light, changeable eyes that came to him then were pained and embarrassed, nothing like the gaze Kylin usually showed to the world. The man was the fourth son of Duke Trame of Arthil, Rilfe's old and valued friend, and was a well known King's Fighter to boot. There was usually a full measure of command in those blue-green eyes, but not on this particular morning.
"And I thought I was doing such a good job hiding what I was feeling," Kylin answered, running a big hand through longish dark blond hair. "I wasn't this nervous when I faced two armed opponents for the place of King's Fighter. I woke at dawn this morning, feeling great, and then the waiting started…"
"Waiting is always harder than battle, especially for a man," Rilfe commiserated, trying to show a compassionate smile. "Blessed Evon gave a large capacity for waiting to women, but little or none to men. Which makes me wonder why some women envy men."
"Some women actually enjoy the wait," Kylin said darkly, his now-unseeing stare pinning the buttered rolls to their plate. "I've been wondering if they know how hard it is for a man, and sit there gloating and delighting in his misery."
"Possibly some women," Rilfe allowed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think the same can be said about Sofaltis, though. I'm sure she would enjoy prolonging the wait, but not for the purposes of gloating. She's angry with all of us, Kylin, but you're the one she'll be taking her anger out on. Anticipating that can't be easy for you, so you must hold firmly in mind the thought that marriage is the best thing for her. It's the best thing for any woman, but in this case it may very well save my daughter's life. And once she gets over her anger, I'm confident you'll find a way to make her happy."
"If I live long enough," Kylin muttered, but this time the gaze he shared was filled with wry amusement. "I finally got to see her fight when we rescued you and the others from the enemy, and I'm forced to admit she's even better with a sword than I'd imagined. Have you decided yet how we're going to get her out of her apartments and to the ceremony without getting sliced into stewing chunks? Being dead ruins the fun of a wedding Feast even more than passing out."
"You're beginning to sound like Traixe," Rilfe said with his own wry amusement, reaching for his cup of warmed chai. "I've been spending most of my time these last two days reassuring one or the other of you, and I'm starting to feel like the father of two new sons. Considering the fact that Traixe is my most trusted advisor and friend as well as a Fighter and a priest of Evon, and you're my prospective heir and a widely known King's Fighter, I'm also beginning to feel the least bit disconcerted. Two grown men should not start muttering to themselves at the mere mention of a young girl's name."
"My lord, Sofaltis is not your average young girl," Kylin returned, the sigh he didn't quite voice nevertheless making itself fully clear. "She's a Blade of a Sword Company, a Fistmate Blade, which means she's even more capable than your average Blade - who is generally better than average. She knows we tried to trick her into this marriage, which means she'll be out for any blood she can spill. Even your average woman would be dangerous to approach in the frame of mind your daughter's currently in, and on the average most men would avoid a situation like that if they had any choice in the matter. Since we don't have the choice, would you care to hazard a guess about our chances of surviving the marriage ceremony mostly intact? On the average, of course."
"Kylin, you delight me," Rilfe said with an out-and-out grin, reaching over to clap the younger man on the shoulder. "If I didn't know better, I'd actually think you were worried. My daughter isn't going to be harming anyone, and that no matter how excellent a Blade she is. When the time for the ceremony arrives, Traixe and I will be the ones to approach her. No matter how angry she is, can you picture her drawing on us?"
"No, I can't," the other man responded, the dryness now gone from his tone, but not the distraction. "She cares too deeply for you and Traixe to harm either one of you, but that just makes it worse; she's trapped in a situation where her own sense of honor won't even let her fight. Evon alone knows what state she must be in by now, which means Evon alone knows what will happen at the ceremony. And I haven't even been able to tell her I'm on her side."
Rilfe watched Kylin's distraction take him over completely, and for a moment the duke didn't know what to say. Rilfe had been the one who had chosen Kylin to become his heir by marrying his daughter Sofaltis, but the young Fighter's agreement to the arrangement had been the last thing to go right in the very complex affair they were all now in the midst of.
Sofaltis had turned out to be a battle-experienced Blade rather than the shy young lady they'd been expecting, Kylin's disguise as a too-delicate Flower had set her immediately against him, and their enemy, His Holiness Nimran I, High Priest to Grail the All-Seeing, had suddenly changed tactics. Rather than attempting the life of Kylin or even of the duke himself, the priest's minions had concentrated on capturing Sofaltis.
Rilfe moved in annoyance in his chair, but there was nothing he could do to ease that annoyance. Despite their having captured the chief traitor in his household, they still had no idea why Nimram wanted Sofaltis. The orders to take her and deliver her to the High Priest before she could be married to anyone were clear and certain, but nothing beyond that was the same. Rilfe's enemy - who was also the kingdom's secret enemy - had plans for Sofaltis just as she was, but they hadn't the least hint of what those plans were.
"But they don't want her married, so that's what she has to be as quickly as possible," Rilfe growled to himself, his fist tightening around the handle of his cup. "Despite the temper tantrums she's been throwing she won't ignore her duty and disobey me, I know she won't. But I also know she'll take out her anger on poor Kylin."
Poor Kylin. Rilfe suddenly realized it was ludicrous to speak of the young man like that, as though he were small and backwardly helpless. On the contrary he was a good deal larger than average, and his skill with a sword was downright remarkable. His biggest handicap lay in the fact that he'd fallen in love with the woman who should have been nothing more than a political match, and her pain and distress had become his. Kylin couldn't wait to make Sofaltis his, and her stubborn refusal to cooperate with the marriage must have cost him more pain than he'd been willing to speak about.
"Kylin, she will understand," Rilfe said abruptly, deliberately shaking off the depression that had begun to descend on him. "Once she calms down and can be spoken with again, she'll realize we were only acting for her own good. And if she takes longer to be reasonable than we like, we can always have Traixe beat her. Once he's back to full health, that is."
"I'll never again be that healthy," a new voice interrupted, dry with amusement. "Evon may have seen fit to smile on me after our recent trouble, but He hasn't gone so far as to return me to being a boy."
Rilfe joined Kylin in looking up in surprise, staring at Traixe where he stood just inside the study doorway. Traixe was a fairly big man with dark eyes and dark hair very faintly touched with gray, but after what the enemy had put him through two days earlier he seemed too robust. Just the day before he'd needed help to walk from one place to another, and now…
"Traixe, you look completely recovered," Kylin said with the same disbelief Rilfe himself felt, but also with the same delight. "You must have been serious about Evon's intervention."
"Truthfully, my lord, that's all I can think of to explain the thing," Traixe answered, now looking perplexed and uncomfortable as he moved nearer the board. "Last night started in the late afternoon for me, that being as long as the pain and weakness let me stay away from my bed. The healer gave me something to ease the pain, but instead it put me to sleep. When I awoke this morning my wounds were well on the way to being healed, and my strength was back as if it had never been gone. Apparently Evon took pity on me for what I'll be doing in His name today, and made it more possible for me to survive."
"I think you'll do best sitting down over there next to Kylin," Rilfe said, giving his old friend a baleful look that was at least half serious. "If you two are that worried about what a young girl will do to you, you can sit quivering in terror together. I'll reserve my side of the board for manly men who don't jump when a female stamps her foot."
"If Your Grace will pardon me, I'm forced to point out that your side of the board contains a man who also happens to be the young girl's father," Traixe came back as he took his place beside Kylin. The two men were more amused than insulted, Rilfe noticed with some annoyance, but they also seemed more than prepared to defend their stance.
"If I were her father I would probably be feeling nothing but annoyance like her actual father," Traixe went on as he settled himself. "In point of fact, my lord, I'm the priest of Evon meant to preside over the wedding the young girl has flatly refused to become involved in. I'm also the priest owning the throat the young lady has threatened to put her point to, in an effort to stop the wedding entirely. I wasn't quite at my best when she and her Fistmates appeared out of the blue to save our hides, but I remained conscious long enough to see her fight. If she decides to resist our efforts with a sword, our healer will be hard pressed to keep up with the workload - assuming there's anything for him to do in the first place."
"And there's no doubt she's realized there can be no wedding if something final happens to the intended groom," Kylin pointed out in turn, drawing Rilfe's frown. "She did a good job of trying to force me into challenging her during the time we traveled together, and didn't seem to understand that I can't face her. There's no denying her skill with a sword, but to best me she doesn't need any skill. I could never raise a weapon against her even if it meant my life, so what good does my own skill do me? Traixe, I think, is in the same position, which puts us both in a corner with no place to retreat to."
Rilfe opened his mouth to say something, closed it again when the appropriate words refused to come, then blew out a breath of vexation through his teeth. It was all the fault of that broiling girl, who had always refused to do as other women and behave herself.
"I refuse to believe she would cut down anyone in cold blood," Rilfe said at last, leaning forward to pour more chai into his cup from the warming pitcher. "She may be angry but she isn't insane, and that's what it would take to slaughter those around her - including you two. All we'll have to do is walk up to her and take that sword away, and then even the threat will be over."
"Ah, is that all we have to do," Traixe commented, paying a good deal of attention to choosing a buttered roll. "Did you by any chance notice, my lord, how Sofaltis made certain to give us a subject for questioning even in the midst of battle? She all but ignored the dagger he held and dropped him in his tracks with a blow to the temple. She used her sword's fingerguard for the purpose, and seemed to judge what strength to put in the blow with the nicety of experience."
"An experience I can vouch for," Kylin added, now also paying a large amount of attention to his plate. "She and I had a … difference of opinion when we were traveling together, and the fist she threw at me would have left me rolling on the ground for the rest of the day if I hadn't been able to deflect it. I wasn't quite as fortunate the next time, when she used a length of firewood on the back of my head."
"What we're trying to do is give you a full, true picture of the problem before us, my lord," Traixe said as he watched Rilfe's wordless but clearly obvious exasperation, compassion to be seen in his dark eyes. "You look at Sofaltis and see the mischievous but delightful child she was, and that's where the greatest difficulty lies. The child you remember is gone, replaced by a Fistmate Blade with more than half a decade's worth of battle experience. If she was a son rather than a daughter, would you walk up to so experienced a Blade and expect to simply disarm him?"
Rilfe stared at Traixe without answering, but his fingers drummed on the board in frustration. Leave it to Traixe to dive to the heart of a problem, making it as clear for everyone else as it was to him. The problem wasn't simple it was horribly complex, and Rilfe took a moment to readjust his thoughts. He was popular with his people because he took the time to consider everyone involved in a problem before making a decision, and there was no reason to change the habits of a lifetime.
"To answer your question, Traixe, yes, I would expect to walk up to so experienced a Blade and disarm him," Rilfe said, no longer held by exasperation or vexation. "The Blade would be my son, just as Sofaltis is my daughter, and any father who can't walk up to his child like that doesn't deserve to think of himself as a parent. But that isn't our true problem, and I'm grateful that you two showed me what is."
Kylin and Traixe looked at him, expectation clear in both sets of eyes, and Rilfe smiled faintly.
"I can't go on intending to simply drag Sofaltis to the wedding dais, can I?" he asked, the words wry. "She's an adult, capable human being, and is justifiably angry over having been lied to and tricked. The ceremony is scheduled for noon today and won't be cancelled, but the least I can do is sit down with her before that and discuss why it can't be cancelled. I owe her that, and you two should be with me."
Kylin took a deep breath and nodded, and Traixe simply smiled his agreement. The three of them were directly responsible for most of what had happened, and Sofaltis was due apologies and an opportunity for telling each of them exactly what she thought. Since they already knew what she thought the time wasn't likely to be pleasant, but she did have the right…
"So we'll go and see her, but first we'll finish our meal," Rilfe said, reaching again for the platter of fried eggs. "Since we'll be outnumbered, the only thing we can do is strengthen ourselves with food and hope for the best. Then, once we get to the wedding Feast, we make sure to stuff her with food. If she's too full to move, my new heir's chances of surviving his wedding night should be greatly improved."
"As always, my lord, your battle strategy is unorthodox but to the point," Traixe said with a laugh while Kylin chuckled. "With Evon's help, this may all work out yet."
All three of them were agreed on that fervent hope, and Rilfe was definitely heartened. It seemed impossible to deny that Evon had had a hand in Traixe's recovery, as nothing else could account for so miraculous a cure. If that was so then the marriage must also have Evon's approval, and a man with Evon on his side could do anything.
Rilfe reached for another roll and applied himself to his food, firmly refusing to remember that as a Blade, Sofaltis was also able to call on Evon. She had enough of an advantage simply being as she was; the possibility that Evon might be behind her instead of them was enough to make a man shudder, and it was far too happy a day for Rilfe to want to think about such things…
Kylin of Arthil, King's Fighter and fourth son of Trame, Duke of Arthil, forced himself not to hang back as he and Traixe accompanied Duke Rilfe to Sofaltis's apartments. His nerves were definitely on edge, but only because he felt so damned guilty. At first he'd been more than happy to see Tisah locked up, thinking that that was the only way he could be sure of having a bride at his wedding ceremony, but ever since he'd opened his eyes this morning he was no longer quite as certain.
Kylin sighed as he pushed a hand through his hair, finding it impossible not to be fair about the problem. If it had been his father who had locked him up after trying to trick him into an unwanted marriage, it wouldn't have been safe for anyone to come near him. It would matter not at all that the marriage had been arranged for his own good, and even being in love with his chosen bride would scarcely have been a consideration. The very fact that he was being coerced would have colored everything else, sending him into a rage and keeping him there…
And what made it all doubly worse was not knowing for certain if Tisah felt what he did. The big Fighter had almost gone to her at dawn this morning, intending to let her know he was on her side, intending to find out if there was any chance she might learn to love him - but he hadn't been able to do it. No one he knew would consider him a coward, but all men were cowards about something. The lucky ones just hadn't yet found their own highest mountain.
"Excuse me, Duke Rilfe, but I need to talk to you," a voice came from up ahead, bringing Kylin out of distraction. He looked up to see Tisah's Fistmates, the four Blades of the Fist she'd been a part of, four of the five men who had come secretly into the castle with Tisah to free her father and sisters from capture. They all stood in front of the duke, and the one who had spoken was the Fist leader Rullin.
"There's something I have to tell Your Grace, something I should have said before now," Rullin continued, his light eyes sober in a face that was just short of being pale under its tan. He was a big man with dark hair who looked dangerous in the black leather of a Blade, but Kylin was more annoyed than impressed. He had no idea what the man wanted, but the Blade should have had the good sense to wait for a better time.
"I hope you're not going to say you and your Fistmates can't stay for the wedding," Duke Rilfe answered, stopping in the middle of the hall rather than rudely brushing past. The duke was more gracious than any noble Kylin had ever met, with the sole exception of his own father. "If you leave, Sofaltis will undoubtedly start a war and I'll probably be its first casualty. She has this odd idea that nothing happens in this duchy without my permission."
"That would be like her," the big Blade granted with a faint smile, the other three chuckling briefly behind him. "No, what I wanted to talk to you about was something else, something - Your Grace, do you have any idea how close the members of a Fist are? Usually they're closer than a family, closer than it's possible to describe to outsiders. We - that is, I - I mean, is there any chance Softy can - well, voice her own decision about who - that is, marriage is so permanent and final, and she should have a man - "
"Who truly cares about her?" the duke asked gently, finishing the sentence while the man in front of him floundered helplessly. "I assure you I want no less for my daughter, and the man I've chosen fits that description. I understand now how concerned you four are, and it pleases me no end. You will, of course, sit with us at the main board during the wedding Feast, just as members of the family should. Sofaltis will undoubtedly start that war with you if you don't. Right now, though, I'll have to ask you to excuse me. We'll speak again later, at greater length."
Rull moved out of the way with his Fistmates after the duke clapped him on the back then continued up the hall. The others with the duke followed him, of course, and nothing was said near Rull until they'd all disappeared. Then Foist put a surprisingly gentle hand on Rull's arm.
"You did the right thing, Rull," Foist said softly, his very light eyes showing the pain he knew his Fist leader felt. "Telling him you wanted to marry Softy would have done nothing more than start trouble, and that man has had enough trouble."
"Now we know why Softy is as decent as she is," Jak commented, looking at Foist rather than at Rull. "I can't say I've met a lot of dukes in my life, but if Duke Rilfe isn't the best of them I'd have to see one better to believe it. He wasn't just talking to put words out. He meant everything he said."
"And he never blamed us for letting Softy fight as part of the Fist," Ham said, his surprise apparently reluctant. "He loves her as much as we do and needs her even more, but he didn't blame us. We're part of Softy, so he went ahead and made us part of him, too."
Rull heard all the words being said to him, but he just stood there with his gaze on the floor, hating himself for being such a coward. He'd meant to tell the duke he wanted to marry Soft and Gentle, but he just hadn't been able to get the words out. Rull knew he wouldn't have been bothered if the duke had laughed at the idea, but what about Softy? What if the duke had agreed to ask her, and she had hesitated the way she'd done a few nights ago? As much as he loved her it would have killed him…
"Why don't we go back to your apartment and have a drink?" Foist asked, this time punching his arm. "It may be too early for these country types, but we never let that stop us before. It'll give us something to do until it's time for the ceremony, and afterward we'll be able to enjoy the wedding Feast."
Jak and Ham agreed enthusiastically, all of them trying to pull him out of the deep well he'd fallen down, but they just didn't have a rope long enough. Only Softy had what would rescue him, and she - she would soon be married to another man.
Rull stood there for another long moment, working to pull himself together. It took some effort but he managed it, and then he was able to let his Fistmates urge him into motion. They had almost reached his apartment when all hell broke loose.
Duke Rilfe of Gensea would never have admitted it out loud, but he could feel his insides twisting just a little as he unlocked the door to Sofaltis's apartments. He loved his daughter very much and in the short time she'd been back had come to admire her as well, but he wasn't looking forward to the scene they would soon be in the middle of. Traixe claimed she was just like her father, and if that were so then Rilfe was beginning to pity those who had come up against him over the years. Could he really be that stubbornly determined, that ready to fight against the entire world if it became necessary…?
"Excuse me, my lord," Traixe said, bringing Rilfe the realization that he'd just been standing in front of the door and staring at it. "My man tells me a breakfast tray was brought this morning, along with the wedding gown you had made. Both were left in the outer sitting room."
"To avoid a confrontation," Rilfe said with a sigh, seeing out of the corner of his eye the faint smile Kylin wore. If the girl's antics had to amuse anyone, Evon be thanked the anyone was the man who had come to marry her. "They were very wise, but it isn't a wisdom we can share. Let's go in."
He lifted the latch and pushed through without waiting for anything that might delay the plunge, knowing without looking that Kylin and Traixe followed. They moved in a body across the outer sitting room and to Sofaltis's bedroom door, none of them commenting on the fact that neither the tray nor the gown seemed to have been touched. The gown had belonged to the girl's mother, altered now to fit the daughter, something Sofaltis would have known if she'd bothered to look…
Rilfe raised a hand and rapped on the bedroom door, fervently wishing the scene to come were already over and done with. None of his sons had lived long enough or stayed long enough to be married, but even if they had it would not have been the same as seeing his eldest daughter wed. A man worried about his daughters in a way he never did with sons, and the end of the ceremony would see him relieved even beyond the safety marriage would bring the girl. He knocked a second time and then a third, still trying to wish the time ahead already behind him, and then he sighed.
"Ignoring us won't make us go away, Sofaltis," Rilfe said in a voice loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. "Since you won't answer we're coming in without an invitation, and if you try to make a fuss I promise that you'll regret it. Here we come."
Ignoring the feeling that he had somehow blundered into a child's game, Rilfe lifted the latch and strode into the room. He had braced himself against anything from attack to tears and was concentrating on remaining calm as he moved, which meant it took Traixe's exclamation to bring him the truth.
"My lords, she's gone!" Traixe said in disbelief, looking around in confusion from the middle of the room. "This chamber is empty!"
"That's impossible!" Kylin snapped, his face paling with shock even as he immediately began to take charge. "They couldn't have gotten to her here. She must be hiding, if not in this room then in another. I'll look in the wardrobe while you check under the bed, Traixe, and then we'll go through the other rooms one by one."
The two men turned quickly to their tasks, but Rilfe ignored their flurry as he paced slowly to the wide table standing not far from the center of the room. He'd seen a sheet of paper on that table, and knew what it was even before he moved close enough to read it. When he reached the table he forced himself to lift the paper and read, and then he bent his head and put a hand over his eyes.
"My lord, what is it?" Traixe asked from the supposedly soothing darkness Rilfe had temporarily surrounded himself with. "What have you found?"
"I've found a damned good reason for drowning girl children at birth," Rilfe growled in answer, fighting to keep from losing his temper and failing miserably. "The broiling girl has run off."
Traixe and Kylin made the same kind of sound, a strangled denial that was half groan. Then Traixe was beside him and reading aloud from the paper Rilfe still held.
"'Dear Father' - How good of her to remember you're related - 'As your loyal and obedient daughter' - hah! - 'I would never dream of disobeying you' - in a pig's eye! - 'so please take this as my full agreement to the marriage you've arranged for me. I will be delighted to join with the man of your choice - as soon as I return from a most urgent duty I've been called away on. I'm certain we all know that matters of honor must come first, even before filial duty, and your disappointment at the delay is without doubt on the same scale as mine. I will return as quickly as possible, and until I do, I remain, your daughter - ' I don't believe this! What matter of honor? Who called her away?"
"Who could have called her away?" Rilfe countered, his eyes undoubtedly as filled with anger as his voice. "Since she was locked in no one could have reached her, so that nonsense is just an excuse. When I get my hands on her - !"
"My lord, it's possible she isn't really gone," Kylin said, looking more than a little angry himself. "She has to know how badly the enemy wants her, and if she did take off in spite of that - Well, we'll save that for when we find her. She could still be hiding somewhere in this apartment, waiting for you to decide she's gone and so take the guards away from the door. Once that was done she could simply stroll out, then hole up somewhere until - until I-don't-know-what. We can ask when we find her, but first we ought to search."
"Then do it," Rilfe said, gesturing at the two men before he turned to walk back to the sitting room to choose a chair to drop into. That girl! Rilfe watched Traixe stride to his Fighters and send two of them off at a run on some errand or other, and then his old friend and Kylin began to search the other rooms of the apartment. Rilfe simply sat in the chair and stewed, half his thoughts considering how satisfying it would be when he found and punished that outrageous child, the other half sick with worry over the possibility that she really had gone off all alone. If the enemy got their hands on her again, how would he even know…?
The search didn't take long enough for Rilfe to calm himself, but by the time it was over the word seemed to have spread to everyone in the castle. Traixe and Kylin returned to the sitting room reluctantly, frustration and grimness riding them heavily, and just as they did the four Blades of Sofaltis's Fist pushed their way through the crowd gathered in the hall.
"What's happening here?" the Fist leader Rullin demanded, coming forward with the other three. "What's all the fuss, and where's Softy?"
"That's what we'd like to know," Traixe growled, then saw his two fighters coming back from wherever he'd sent them. "Maybe this will give us a clue. You people get out of their way."
Those in the doorway turned and then stepped aside, and the two men were able to come directly into the room. They were both breathing heavily, showing they'd probably run, but not so heavily that they weren't able to speak.
"The stallion's gone, my lord," one of them said immediately, his chest heaving. "The stablemaster said her war horse was in the stall yesterday, but today it's gone. You want me to ask the gate guard what time she rode out?"
"No," Traixe answered with a continuing growl, then turned to look at Rilfe. They both knew that Sofaltis hadn't used the gate to leave, and it wasn't something to be mentioned aloud. The broiling girl shouldn't have known about the secret exit in the stable area, but it was fairly obvious she did.
"Well?" the Blade Rullin demanded again, clearly even more impatient. "What's going on?"
"Apparently Sofaltis has been … called away," Traixe said, turning again to look at the man. "She left a letter saying she has a … matter of honor to attend to, and would be back as soon as it was taken care of. Assuming she isn't kidnapped or killed by our enemies before then. Or doesn't end up dead or taken some other way."
"She's gone?" Rullin demanded, he and the others looking ready to start foaming at the mouth. "Without even telling us? We've got to get her back!"
"First we have to figure out where she's gone to," Traixe pointed out, no happier than the man he spoke to. "She could have picked any direction to ride off in, and I'd be willing to bet she didn't leave any easy track for us to follow. How do we decide which way to go?"
"We'll ride north," Rullin quickly decided, gesturing to himself and his three Fistmates. "She could have decided to go back to our Company, and if she did we'll be able to find her most easily. If Evon's luck rides with us, we may even catch up to her before she gets there. If we do, you don't have to worry about her being kept safe."
Rullin sketched a brief bow toward the duke, then turned and led the remainder of his Fist from the apartment. Once the four of them were in the hall and striding away from other ears, Foist tapped Rullin's arm with the back of his hand.
"I know you probably missed it, Rull, but you didn't say anything about bringing Softy back if we do find her," the light-haired Blade commented. "That was just an oversight, right?"
"If Softy wanted to be here she would have stayed," Rull muttered, giving most of his attention to where he was going. "If she doesn't want to be brought back, I'll be damned if I'll force her into it."
"Rull, she could have come to us when she got out of that room," Foist pointed out, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Since she didn't, I would guess that she doesn't want us any more than she wants to stay here and get married. She doesn't want any of us."
"That's for her to say," Rull stated, ending the debate in the flatly final way he usually did. Once he caught up to her she would have her say, and he intended doing his damnedest to make sure that say was good news…
Traixe watched the four Blades leave the room, and then he turned back to Duke Rilfe and Lord Kylin. Knowing the duke as well as he did, the priest of Evon could see that his lord was fighting to pull himself together. Once he had he could begin to make plans that were sound, but suddenly it seemed that Kylin would reach that point first. The young King's Fighter had been deep in thought since he and Traixe had finished their search, and it was possible he hadn't even heard what the four Blades of Sofaltis's Fist intended to do. Then he pulled free of the distraction, firm decision showing in those light, changeable eyes.
"Duke Rilfe, I'm going to leave at once," he announced, surely unaware of how much he sounded like the Fist leader Rullin. "She can't have more than half a day's head start, and if I move fast I should be able to catch up with her quickly."
"In which direction do you intend moving that fast?" Duke Rilfe asked, looking up at the younger man. The duke was furious, but not with those around him. "The hellion left not a single clue as to which way she intended to go, so how can you know you're going where she did?"
"Once I'm out of the castle, I'll find the right way," Kylin answered, and Traixe realized there wasn't a man in the entire duchy who could have doubted him. "That girl knew she was risking her life by leaving here alone, but she did it anyway to prove how … free she is. When I catch up to her, she and I are going to have a long, pointed discussion about freedom."
"But this time you're not going alone," the duke said as he stood, stopping Kylin from turning and leaving. "This time I want my authority riding with you, so you'll be taking Traixe and a couple of his men."
Traixe found himself battling Kylin for whose protest got said first, but the duke settled the matter by holding up a commanding hand.
"No, Traixe, I do not need you more than Sofaltis does," Duke Rilfe stated, putting that same hand to his friend's shoulder. "We know now that Nimram's plans have changed, and it's my daughter who is in the most danger. And as for how fast you can travel alone, Kylin, be assured that the others won't be left behind. And if you stop to think about it, Traixe is meant to go with you. For what other reason would Evon have seen fit to bring him back to full health so quickly?"
The question caused both Traixe and Kylin to stop and consider, and Traixe, at least, was quickly forced to agree. If Evon had wanted him healed there had to be a reason, and riding with Kylin was the only logical one. If he was meant to stay at the castle, he could have done that while still hobbling around.
"Yes, all right, I can see your point about Traixe," Kylin conceded a moment later, only faintly disturbed. "For some reason he's supposed to be with me, even though we still don't know why. What I dislike most is the idea of taking him away from you, my lord. Nimram may be after Tisah, but that doesn't necessarily mean he won't be after your blood as well."
"I think we can do something to ease both problems before we leave," Traixe said, suddenly in possession of an idea he should have had sooner. "Nimram wants Sofaltis unmarried and her father without an heir. Both wants can be negated with a single marriage ceremony."
"Traixe, maybe you aren't as healed as we believe," Kylin said, eyeing him strangely. "To have a marriage ceremony we need a bride, and that's the ingredient we're missing. Or didn't you remember that?"
"My lord, we're only missing a bride physically," Traixe corrected gently, trying not to grin. "What we have in her place is her father's presence and agreement to the match - and her own indication of willingness in a letter. With all of that, a proxy wedding is now possible."
"And afterward I can register the marriage and the naming of my heir at the same time," Duke Rilfe said slowly, a definite gleam growing in his eyes. "Once the notification reaches the King's Court that little hellion should be safe in spite of herself - but then all the attentions will probably be yours, Kylin. If you're here we can give you help in staying alive, but if you ride off after Sofaltis - "
"Your Grace, I don't expect to have any trouble staying alive," Kylin interrupted, looking faintly disturbed. "It will take a while for your gallopers to reach the King's Court, and even longer before word of the marriage is spread around. Until that happens Tisah will still be in danger, and the only hope we have is that the enemy doesn't know where she is any more than we do. I just wish it wasn't necessary to sneak around behind her back again."
"With a proxy marriage, you mean," Traixe put in, feeling the younger man's disquiet rather clearly. "It might help, Lord Kylin, if you remember that there would be no sneaking around if Sofaltis hadn't taken it into her head to run off. The difficulty we had until now came about through circumstance and misunderstanding; what we're in the middle of at the moment is being caused by a female Blade called Soft and Gentle. She thought she could avoid the marriage by agreeing to it."
"When the truth is we none of us have a choice," Duke Rilfe added with a gentle clap to Kylin's shoulder, compassion clearly all through him for the man who was so obviously in love with his daughter. "A reasonable adult would have bowed to the inevitable, and made an effort to get to know the man she would be spending the rest of her life with. Sofaltis hasn't yet learned what it means to be a reasonable adult, so it's up to us to teach her. It will surely turn out to be to her benefit."
But will it be to mine? Kylin couldn't help thinking as he let the other two men urge him out of the apartment. Tisah wasn't your ordinary woman, and she wasn't likely to accept the fact of a proxy marriage with a shrug and a sigh. Kylin wanted a wife who was happy rather than miserable, but Tisah seemed determined to be miserable no matter how hard he tried. Once he caught up to her his best move might turn out to be not trying any more at all. But first he had a ceremony to go through, and then he had to catch up in the first place…
I guided Bloodsheen off the road and onto the grass, then dismounted and left him to graze while I sat down to have some lunch. I wouldn't have stopped for the meal if we hadn't been moving so fast and hard the last couple of days, but my war horse needed the break even if he didn't appear to. Bloodsheen was the best war horse ever born, and would have died in his tracks rather than fail me in some way.
I lowered myself to the ground next to a tree, unwrapped the leftover rabbit I'd caught for breakfast, then leaned back while I ate. I was beginning to be somewhat tired myself, and the beautiful day all around wasn't revitalizing me the way it had when I'd first started out. I'd been riding northeast almost nonstop for two days, intending to reach the foothills of the eastern mountains before taking some time to rest, and I was almost there. Without anyone having caught up with me.
I smiled a little as I examined the piece of rabbit I ate, letting it remind me of the man who had caught up to me the last time I'd been on the trail. He'd started out pretending to be something he wasn't, had fed me rabbit and made love to me, and had done his damnedest not to let me out of his sight. I'd managed to get away from him in spite of that, but he'd shown up again in the middle of a fight and had saved my life.
"Even after everything I said and did to him," I muttered, staring balefully at the piece of rabbit. I'd thought he was one of the enemy, one of those who were trying to destroy my father, and hadn't been able to understand why I'd been so attracted to him. Everything he'd said and done had insisted he was nice, but how can you let yourself believe an enemy is nice?
"Only he isn't an enemy, which means he really is decent," I muttered again to the rabbit before taking another bite. My father hadn't chosen him as my future husband without knowing something about him, even Traixe apparently liked him, and the man himself had apparently kept the truth from me because my father had insisted. He was really a King's Fighter, and would be exactly the kind of heir my father needed.
But only if I married him. With two of my brothers dead and the other two gone off somewhere, it had suddenly become necessary that I marry in order to supply my father with an heir. The King's Law insisted that it be done like that, and had no provision for a refusal from the woman involved. Even if the woman was a Fistmate Blade in the best Sword Company fighting in the north.
"Which doesn't happen to be fair," I pronounced around a mouthful of rabbit. "If I let them get away with it, I'd be disgusted with myself for the rest of my life. If my father had asked me I would have had to agree, but he didn't ask. Which means I didn't have to ask him when I came up with my own plan."
I gave a firm nod of agreement to those words, showing how completely committed I was to that plan. The marriage contract my father had signed stipulated that the man I married would be named his heir; if I found one or both of my brothers and brought them home, one of them would be named his heir. The marriage contract would then be invalidated, and I would be off the hook.
Not to mention leaving Kylin out in the cold, something inside insisted on reminding me, ruining all the pleasure I'd been feeling. He was decent to you in every way he could be and even saved your life, and you thank him by doing him out of the place as your father's heir. What was that you said about something not being fair?
"Since I wasn't the one who promised him all that, how does it become my fault if the promise is broken?" I countered in a growl, throwing away an emptied bone and reaching for another piece of rabbit. "And I seem to remember a couple of times he was a lot less than decent. He actually had the nerve to spank me, and once or twice he made love to me when I didn't want him to. How decent is that?"
Oh, you poor little innocent child, that inner voice sneered. According to his betrothal rights he could have raped you if he'd cared to, but you know damned well he went out of his way to make you just as interested as he was. And you can't deny you enjoyed it, not unless you lie. Go ahead and say you don't like being in bed with him, I dare you.
I didn't say anything to the taunting, not even to comment that the part of me on his side seemed to be getting stronger by the day. I'd never been in the habit of arguing with myself about things, but ever since I'd met Kylin…
Kylin. I sighed as my thoughts caressed the name, the name of a man whose company I enjoyed even out of bed. If he and I had met elsewhere, if he hadn't been thrown in my face as the man I had to marry, maybe … just maybe…
"Maybe nothing," I growled, throwing the half-eaten piece of rabbit back in with the rest. I'd thought I knew men, knew what they were all about; it had come as a shock that so many of them really wanted marriage, without once stopping to ask if the woman they chose wanted the same. Kylin, knowing he had my father's approval, had kept insisting I had to marry him, while Rull -
I wearily put my hands over my face as I remembered that Rull had wanted me to leave the country with him if it turned out that he couldn't get my father's approval. Rull, the leader of our Fist, the man who had never wanted to be tied down… Suddenly marriage became the best idea ever conceived of, and I'd been expected to agree with eagerness.
It was necessary to uncover my face in order to rewrap the rabbit, and I did it with short, sharp movements as I fought to keep the anger from taking control of me again. My father, Kylin, Rull - all of them looked at it the same, as though they were doing me a favor. They could have asked to find out if I considered it a favor - or even moderately acceptable - but did they bother to do that? Of course not, and why should they? I was nothing more than a poor little helpless female, there for no other reason than to take their orders and make their lives more pleasant and easy…
The growl inside me was growing stronger, so I picked up the package of rabbit and got to my feet. Every time I thought about the way they were trying to trap me I got the urge to spill blood, and the only way to get rid of the urge was to work it out doing something else. Not that I wouldn't have enjoyed actually indulging the -
"Well, h'llo there," a cheerful, twangy voice said suddenly, causing me to stop short and look around. "Ain't this a purdy, purdy day."
The man speaking was shorter than his three companions, but certainly not any cleaner. All four of the men who had appeared so abruptly were scruffy, dirty, and needed shaves. They wore cloth trousers and shirts in various faded colors, their boots were beyond well-worn into broken-down, and their swordbelts contained hilts that looked over-used and neglected rather than properly cared for. Their glance took in the green shirt, black trousers, and black boots I wore and dismissed them, just as they dismissed the sword scabbarded at my side. They were country louts probably playing outlaw, and didn't that help to improve my mood.
"Ain't yew gonna say nothin' 'bout th' purdy day?" the same man continued, his grin as easy as the drawl in his voice. "Yew an' thet there horse shore match the day, girl, an' I'll tell ya whut we're gonna do. We're gonna let th' two a ya ride 'long with us fer a while, till we git t'sumbody who likes t'buy purdy things. Ain't thet a good idear fer sech a purdy day?"
"I have a better idea," I said, tossing away the package of rabbit I held to free my hands. "If you and your friends get out of my sight real quick, I'll let the bunch of you live. If you don't, you get to pay for other people's mistakes as well as your own. And make up your minds fast, I haven't got all day."
The first one's grin faltered at that, and the others began to look a good deal less sure of themselves. As a female I was supposed to have panicked at hearing their plans, possibly even cried and begged them to leave me alone. If they'd had any brains at all they would have realized that they weren't likely to be the first road louts to start up with me, but if they'd had any brains at all they wouldn't have come near me to begin with.
"Yew weak in th' haid 'r sumthin', girl?" the first finally demanded, outraged over the way I stood there with my fingertips resting on my swordbelt. "Even if'n ya c'd used thet there sword, they's four a us an' on'y one a yew. When the doin's git started, it's us as gonna be doin' t'yew."
"The rules of my former Sword Company say I'm obliged to tell you I'm a Blade," I answered, smiling very faintly. "The ones who made up that rule were trying to save careless lives, and it probably never occurred to them that it's a waste of breath for female Blades to say it. Most men don't believe it, and the ones who do usually have to try us to prove to themselves that they're better. Just for my own curiosity, which group do you four belong to?"
The men shuffled a little and glanced at each other, even more doubt now creeping in to disturb them. The way a couple of them had paled showed they'd heard about Blades, but they still weren't sure they should believe I was one. The one who had been speaking wiped a filthy sleeve across his mouth, his dull eyes showing how hard he worked trying to make a decision, and then he finally found a point of compromise.
"We's still four t' yore one, an' we ain't gonna walk away with nothin'," he announced, clinging to the unshakable comfort of greater numbers. "Since yew don' care 'nough 'bout thet horse even t'tie 'im, we'll take 'im an' find 'im a good home. Yeah, a real good home."
His witty comment made the other three chuckle in appreciation, something they were eagerly anxious to do. None of that had been going the way it should have, but now it looked like they were finally getting somewhere.
"You know, people who are stupid about the world should stay home where it's nice and safe," I observed, still looking at them with the same faint smile. "There's a reason why my horse isn't tied, and if you try to go near him you'll find out part of it. You may not live long enough for the information to do any good, but you'll certainly find out."
"I ain't gonna lissin t'no more," the first man said angrily, back to feeling afraid and hating it. "Yore just talkin' t'cheat us outa our due, but it ain't gonna happen. We're takin' thet there horse."
He rapped the back of his hand against the arm of the man nearest him, and although the second man didn't look very happy about it he still hitched up his swordbelt and joined his leader. The two of them began to advance toward Bloodsheen, who had stopped grazing as soon as the four had appeared and was now rumbling just a little deep in his throat. The stallion, being a good deal smarter than the four men put together, knew these weren't friends he was being approached by, and was trying to be fair by warning them off.
But the men had decided not to listen to any more warnings. They wanted something to steal and sell, and Bloodsheen wasn't wearing a sword he might know how to use. I sighed briefly, wondering why the gods didn't take pity on the incurably stupid when they were born, and either cure them or end them right then and there. Letting them grow up to learn there was no real place for them in the world was cruel, but too often the gods had their own ideas about kindness.
Right now there was nothing of kindness, only the results of stupidity. The two men moved within five feet of Bloodsheen, the first snapping orders in a low voice, the second making soothing noises meant to calm a high-strung animal. They had no idea what it meant to approach a war horse like that without first having been given his reins by his rider, but they quickly found out.
Bloodsheen screamed in delight when the two crossed the invisible line between those who were to be warned and those who could be attacked, and then he went into action. As soon as he did I drew my sword and headed for the other two, intending to keep them from joining the fight with weapons, but I needn't have bothered. They stood gaping briefly at the way their former friends hadn't been able to avoid steel-shod hooves flashing at them with murderous intent, caught a glimpse of me heading for them, and immediately turned and ran. The two on the ground were well on the way toward being made into a bloody pudding, and their former friends had no interest in having the same done to them - in one way or another.
I watched the two runners for a moment, making sure they meant to keep going, then turned back to whistle at Bloodsheen, calling him off. The men who had tried to steal him would never steal anything again, and there was no sense in overemphasizing the point. The ones who had gotten away with their lives would think twice before bothering anyone else, and that was good enough.
I checked Bloodsheen's legs to make sure he hadn't damaged himself, retrieved my package of rabbit and stowed it in a saddle bag, then mounted and continued on the way I'd been going.
"I think we'd better make camp, my lord," Traixe said, coming up to ride beside Kylin. "If we don't give these horses a rest, we'll end up on foot."
Kylin would have enjoyed overruling that suggestion, but part of him had already come to the same conclusion. He and Traixe and the two Fighters had taken the four best horses in the stable, but it hadn't helped them as much as they'd hoped it would.
"It isn't their fault they can't match the stamina of a war horse who was bred for it," Traixe pointed out, obviously reading Kylin's mind. "They aren't refusing to go on, they're just having a lot of trouble doing it. And she has to stop some time to rest, even mounted on a war horse. Assuming she really came this way."
"She came this way," Kylin assured the other man, his eyes taking in everything around them. "About twenty miles back I noticed the same hoofprints we found in the dust of the stable tunnel, that crosscut pattern some smiths put into the shoes of a war horse. How likely is it that there are two war horses in the area now, both heading away from the castle, both riders traveling alone?"
"Considering the fact that even the duke doesn't have a war horse, not very likely at all," Traixe allowed, his expression brightening a little. "Those four Blades of Sofaltis's Fist ride war horses, but they haven't come this way and probably won't split up. Did you get an idea from the tracks how far behind her we are?"
"Too far," Kylin answered with a growl, but nevertheless slowed his mount to head off into the trees on their right. "She isn't camping at night the way I expected her to, and hadn't even stopped at the inn we passed. Any other woman we would have caught up to by now, but her? I swear by Evon, she's running us ragged on purpose."
"You'll forgive me, my lord, but that isn't beyond her," Traixe said, obviously working very hard not to smile as he followed Kylin into the woods. "I remember her as a child, bright and laughing and full of love, but also full of devilment and determination. Once she set her mind on something, it was close to impossible to distract her from it."
"I'll distract her," Kylin growled again, his foul mood too deep to be lightened. "If Nimram's followers get their hands on her, it won't matter how adorable she was as a child. Assuming I ever have any daughters, I hope for their sake they don't try being 'adorable' with me. They won't enjoy what the effort brings them."
"Lord Kylin, it isn't possible to bend a warrior spirit," Traixe said, the words put seriously enough to capture Kylin's attention. "Think of yourself as a child, and consider how well you would have taken to being thrust into a mold that didn't suit you. Your spirit would have rebelled just as hers did, and probably in an identical way."
"Traixe, I'm not blaming her for the rebellion of her 'spirit,'" Kylin returned with a sigh, keeping one eye on where they were riding. "I have seven brothers, and the amount of 'spirit' we were all filled with almost caused my father to swear never to touch our mother again. I understand that when she heard him say that once, all she did was laugh. She expected her children to be warriors and wasn't at all bothered, and knew their father was too much of a warrior himself to ever keep away from the woman he loved."
"Your lady mother sounds like a very wise woman," Traixe commented, smiling in amusement. "She also sounds as though she has more than a little of the warrior spirit herself."
"She does," Kylin agreed, matching Traixe's smile. "She never felt it necessary to learn how to use a sword, but that doesn't mean she isn't a warrior. She never would have been able to handle the eight of us so easily if she wasn't, and she went out of her way to teach us all a very important lesson: the stronger the body and spirit, the more necessary self-discipline is."
Traixe raised his brows, apparently not knowing how to put the question he clearly had, but Kylin smiled again with understanding.
"When my brothers and I were small children, we had an infallible way of knowing when we'd gone too far," Kylin explained. "If we found ourselves closeted with our father, bent over his knee while he warmed our bottoms, we knew we had done something that was totally unacceptable. What our mother taught us, though, was that our time as small children would be very short, and one day soon we would find ourselves just as big as our father and too big to spank if we did something wrong. By that time we would need to have a different way to evaluate our behavior, and also would be expected to take care of our own disciplining. Our father was right then showing us how to judge ourselves, but he couldn't be expected to do it forever. One day he would step back and let us take over the job, and if we made the effort we would be all ready to do just that."
"Which it seems you all were," Traixe said, his tone showing he felt impressed. "I've heard you and your brothers being discussed more than once by members of the nobility, both high and low. The consensus was how lucky a man Duke Trame is, to have his sons turn out so well. Most of those doing the discussing were happy to have even one son turn out well enough to be named their heir, but apparently they were wrong to consider the matter luck."
"Oh, my father had his share of luck, but for the most part he and my mother made their own luck," Kylin agreed. "We were all taught to be responsible for ourselves and so we were, but that's what's wrong with Tisah. No one ever taught her the same thing in the same way, so she had to make up her own way."
"I'm afraid you've lost me," Traixe answered, frowning as they entered a small clearing in the woods that couldn't be seen from the road. "Sofaltis was taught right from wrong, and I know because I did a lot of that teaching myself. As for being responsible for her own actions, Sword Companies usually do an excellent job of drumming that into the heads of their Blades. If she didn't have self-discipline, she wouldn't have been medallioned or accepted as a member of a Fist."
"I can see this is going to take some explaining," Kylin said, looking around as he drew his mount to a halt. "Let's get our camp set up, and then we can go into what I mean. And I think there's water not too far off in that direction."
Traixe turned his head and apparently had little trouble catching the scent of water the way Kylin already had, and then the man simply dismounted without pressing the conversation the way he'd seemed prepared to do. As usual Kylin felt impressed with how wise Traixe was, obviously knowing when to hold his curiosity in abeyance. And Traixe had had no trouble keeping to the grueling pace Kylin had set, showing that Evon valued the man as much as Kylin was beginning to.
All four of them took care of their hard-ridden horses first, cooling them out before watering and feeding them. Traixe's two Fighters were steady, reliable men, and one built a fire while the other went to refill their water bags. The birds that had been shafted earlier in the day were already dressed out and ready to roast, which the two Fighters would see to as soon as the fire was also ready. Kylin came back with an armload of firewood, the only contribution the reverse snobbery of the Fighters would let a noble make, and that was when Traixe approached him again showing determination.
"I believe, my lord, that we have a discussion remaining unfinished," he said, only just barely waiting for Kylin to straighten up. "Shall we make ourselves comfortable under that tree and take up where we left off?"
"Traixe, for both our sakes I'd like you to stop feeling insulted on Tisah's behalf," Kylin replied, finding it impossible to hide his amusement completely. "I'm going to need you on my side when we catch up to her, not joining her to outnumber me. Will you give me a chance to explain?"
"I'm usually willing to give any man a chance, my lord," Traixe returned, and then the man made an effort to smile. "I don't know why I'm feeling so bothered. It isn't as though you said anything that hasn't been said before, and some of it by me."
"The answer to that is easy," Kylin assured him, encouraging the big Fighter to walk with him by a hand to his shoulder. "What other people say isn't important, not when they're either just passing through Tisah's life or are on the outskirts of it. I'm here to stay, and I'm also the one who will be closest to her. You'd like it best if I considered her perfect."
"I think you may be right," Traixe admitted, looking sheepish as he chose a piece of ground to sit on. "The girl is almost like a daughter to me, so it's perfectly all right for me to see her faults. For you, though…"
"Yes," Kylin said with a chuckle, leaning back against the tree as he watched dusk gathering across and around the clearing. "For me to find fault would be ungracious to say the least, but I'm going to do it anyway. Do you know why she's as undisciplined as she is? Basically it's because she's female."
"If she were here right now you'd probably have a fight on your hands because of that remark," Traixe commented, now also beginning to sound amused. "She's one of the most womanly women I've ever seen, but pointing out that she's female tends to set her off."
"I'd be surprised if she reacted in any other way," Kylin said, bringing his gaze back to the older man. "I didn't mean she was undisciplined because of the fact that she was born female. That's another matter entirely."
"If you say so, my lord," Traixe answered, the expression on his face adding to Kylin's amusement. Duke Rilfe's friend and advisor didn't see a difference, but he was much too polite - and politic - to admit it.
"Traixe, do you remember what you said about warrior spirit?" Kylin asked as he studied the older man. "Someone with warrior spirit will fight being stuffed into the wrong mold, and that's what Tisah spent more than half her life doing: fighting against being forced into the wrong slot. That fight wasn't necessary because of something being wrong with her, the effort had to be made because of the views of everyone else. You said you helped raise her, so why don't you tell me: was she allowed to do the things her brothers did?"
"Why - no, of course not," Traixe responded, his frown deep. "You don't raise a girl child the way you do boys, their interests and talents are different. Sofaltis was a tomboy as well as being mischievous, but His Grace her father didn't encourage her in it. He didn't want to see her ruined for the life of a woman."
"So he - and everyone else around her - decided what was best for her from outward appearance alone," Kylin summed up. "To keep her from being … different from other women, her actual differences were ignored. But it didn't help much, did it?"
"With her turning out to be a Blade?" Traixe returned with a snort and a headshake. "It didn't help at all. Duke Rilfe expected to provide you with a sweet and quiet bride, and instead handed you a tall, gray-eyed headache. Who also, unfortunately, happens to be damned good with a sword."
"Better than damned good," Kylin corrected. "Women are accepted in Sword Companies, but only if they're better than the men applying at the same time. Women don't have the stronger physical build of men, so they have to have greater skill and speed. In that instance it isn't a matter of fairness it's a matter of survival, but the difference is only in the reasoning behind the action. She still had to fight harder for what she wanted, and only because she was female."
"And once she became a Blade, it still wasn't over," Traixe said, his voice sounding as though he'd slipped into brooding. "When she was accepted into a male Fist, she undoubtedly had to put up with crude remarks and insinuating laughter. What I don't understand is why she kept fighting. I know how proud she is of being a Blade in a Sword Company, but she isn't in the Sword Company any longer and should have realized she would be called home sooner rather than later. Why fight so hard for something you'll be losing no matter how good you are?"
"Fighting against restrictions and winning was something she learned to do as a child," Kylin said, and now his tone grew sharper. "She wasn't taught to be responsible for her own actions, she was taught to fight until she won. The Sword Company taught her the same thing, that if she fought hard enough and skillfully enough she would win over all opposition. That's what she's doing right now, fighting again to get her own way. It hasn't yet come to her that this time she can't have her own way, and that's also because she's female."
"This time I'm going to say it straight out," Traixe stated, looking at Kylin with narrowed eyes. "I may be dense, but I don't follow that."
"You should," Kylin returned, making no effort to avoid the other man's stare. "You were the one who helped raise her. When she was small and did something wrong, the only disciplining the duke allowed you to give her was a lecture. That's not necessarily bad, it all depends on exactly what she did, but tell me something: did you ever let her convince you to forget the lecture because she was only a cute little girl?"
"My lord, I have a question for you," Traixe said disgustedly, leaning down to one elbow in the grass. "If you already know the answers to your questions, and it's fairly clear that you do, why do you ask them in the first place?"
"It's a habit I picked up as a King's Fighter," Kylin replied, amused but not about to be distracted. "If something was clear to me but not as clear to others, asking questions that they answered themselves saved me the need to argue. I take it you're following me a little more easily now?"
"You could put it like that," Traixe grudged with a slow nod. "And, of course, you're right. There were any number of instances when Sofaltis was caught doing something outrageous - like the time she put worms into all her brothers' boots, to show how unhappy she was over not having been taken hunting with them - and it was given to me to discipline her. Considering the fact that three of the young lords stamped into the boots before discovering the worms, Duke Rilfe decided he would be wisest not to get involved. I think he was afraid of breaking his own rule about giving her nothing but lectures."
"Because she was his daughter rather than his son," Kylin said with a nod of his own. "Were you also given the job of disciplining the boys?"
"No, Duke Rilfe saw to that himself, much in the way your own father did," Traixe said, his manner making it clear that he only supplied another already-known answer.
"But you were in charge of seeing to Tisah, and you were supposed to lecture her rather sternly, I would imagine," Kylin pursued. "Since you used that as an example, I'm assuming the lecture never came off. What happened?"
"Oh, she stood there looking straight at me, really frightened as she tried to guess what I would do to her, but refusing to make excuses or apologies." Traixe's response had the company of a headshake. "I'd been all ready to scare the hellion right out of her, but with those big gray eyes glued to me in barely swallowed-down panic, I discovered I couldn't do it. I took her in my arms and hugged her instead, got her calmed down before explaining just how bad she'd been, then got her promise not to do it ever again. If she gave her word about something, she always kept it."
"So she got out of a justly earned punishment by refusing to back down," Kylin observed. "Specifically because she was a girl-child who refused to back down. The attitude wouldn't have helped one of her brothers any more than it would have helped me or my brothers, but for her it earned a reprieve. Approximately how many times did it earn her a reprieve?"
"All right, my lord, I get the point," Traixe said wearily, holding up one hand in surrender. "I helped teach her that if she stood up to things and refused to back down, she would avoid all manner of unpleasantness. If she had been a boy-child it would never have happened, but 'if' can't be changed to 'did.' She's fighting to get her own way just the way she was taught to do, and she's refusing to back down from unpleasantness. The main question now is, how do we change all that?"
"What makes you think it can be changed?" Kylin asked, the words as sour as his expression. "She felt happiest with a Sword Company because despite the outrageousness of the idea, once she earned her place she was able to stop fighting with the world. Marriage to me means being thrust right back into the struggle she considered already won, and she can't accept that idea. If Evon doesn't visit me with some sort of divine inspiration, she may never accept it."
"But - " Traixe began, seriously upset, then he sat straight again and shook his head. "No, I can't very well say she has to accept it just because it's already done, can I? She's found one trail around our watchful determination, and if she makes up her mind the wrong way there will always be others. Possibly that's why Evon sent me along with you: to help find an answer to a problem I also helped to create. I'm going to see how soon supper will be ready."
Traixe rose to his feet and headed back toward the fire, leaving a despondent Kylin alone to sink into darkly roiling thoughts. Every time he tried to consider his problem, he looked at it to find it had grown bigger while his attention had been elsewhere. The more he learned about his Tisah the more sympathetic he felt, but more and more he became convinced that sympathy was the worst thing he could give her. It would reinforce her belief that she was right, and in this instance she wasn't.
"Not when all she's doing is reacting rather than thinking," he growled low, leaning off the tree to stare down at his linked fingers. She wasn't calmly evaluating the situation, she was running from it. Sometimes an orderly retreat was sound military tactics, but this wasn't one of the times.
"And even Evon doesn't want her getting away," Kylin muttered, moving his gaze to the silver bracer on his left arm that no one ever noticed. Sofaltis wore one just like it, only smaller, and no one noticed hers either. The bracers had been given to them by a priest of Evon, who had also told them the child's story about the silver panoply Evon was supposed to have forged on this world. Those who ended up with pieces of the panoply were supposedly being called into Evon's service, but so far the bracer had only called Kylin after Sofaltis. The first time had been when he'd followed her through the secret tunnel into the castle, and the second…
The second was when it had shown him which way to ride when they'd first started after her. He hadn't told anyone that it was the bracer guiding him rather than his tracking ability, not when even Traixe, who was also a priest of Evon, couldn't see the thing. And he now fought to believe that Evon really wanted him to catch Tisah, now that they were both being drawn ever more deeply into the god's service. But that belief had been losing strength almost by the minute, falling apart the way flimsy excuses usually do.
Kylin leaned back against the tree again, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He felt furious with the girl for riding off and leaving him behind, especially since it was most probable that she was in the midst of answering Evon's summons as well as running away from an unwanted marriage. She should have waited for him, and then the two of them could have -
Run away from the marriage together? Forgotten all about Duke Rilfe's problem, and ridden off to discover what the bracers wanted from them? Why not include a pinky-swear pact to be best friends for ever and ever?
Kylin made a noise of ridicule deep in his throat, knowing how badly he was handling the situation but finding it impossible to do any better. Dealing with that woman made him feel like a boy again, off-balance and unsure of himself, horribly aware of every mistake he made, constantly searching for the right words to say. He'd had no business staying away from Tisah while she was locked in her apartment, no matter how painful seeing her like that would have been. He should have visited and talked with her, discussed why they had to do as they were doing…
Instead, he now had to explain why they'd done as they had after she'd left. She was now legally his wife and he was her father's heir, and that despite the fact that they two had never exchanged a dozen words in civil conversation. How was he supposed to make it all right for her? How was he supposed to make it work out for both of them?
How … how … how…?
The foothills of the eastern mountains don't start at one given point that's easily described and mapped. I kept following the well-traveled road under Bloodsheen's hooves, most of my fellow travelers locals heading to or from one town or city or another. That continued for hours, and then suddenly I looked up to discover that things had changed.
The road was a bit narrower, fewer people appeared going in any direction at all, and somehow I felt higher up than I had been. There was no more than a gentle rise to the landscape all around, but it seemed to fit in well with the soaring height of the mountains that were now playing backdrop to the scene.
Bloodsheen and I really needed a rest at that point, so I headed off into the heavy woods to find a place where our rest would be less likely to be disturbed. It was only mid afternoon of another nice day, but it might as well have been midnight and pouring rain. My mount and I were tired, and if we didn't get some real rest soon we would fall asleep on our feet between one step and another.
I rode a short distance through the quiet peace of the woods, looking for a spot that was at least partially defensible, but unfortunately for the sake of peace and quiet I went a little too far. I rounded the bulk of an aging giant of a tree to see a clearing a short distance ahead, and rather than being empty the clearing was a bit too well filled.
A boy of about twelve had obviously been out hunting, the number of birds and rabbits and other small animals tied to the saddle of his mountain pony showing that rather clearly. What was also clear was the way his pony had been taken down by a big cat, said cat having ripped out the throat of the poor animal. By rights the boy should have gotten away while the cat was distracted with killing his pony, since he seemed to have been hunting with nothing but the throwing stick thrust through the side of his breechclout.
But for one reason or another the boy hadn't gotten away, and was now in the desperate process of holding off the hunting cat with a big branch. The many leaves and smaller branches were keeping the cat at bay, but as furious as the cat had gotten, that wasn't likely to continue for very long.
If I'd had the time I would have sighed while I slipped my bow from my shoulder and reached for an arrow from the quiver at my knee. All my eyes wanted to do right now was close, but what they had to do was see well enough to save a young life. I didn't know if I had enough left inside to do that, but there wasn't a choice about trying.
Bloodsheen had gone the least bit jerky from the smell of the cat combined with spilled blood, but he still moved forward when I touched him with my heel. We only moved a few paces, close enough to give me a clear shot, and when we stopped it was sideways to the scene of battle. I couldn't afford to shoot yet, of course, not with the useless target areas being presented by the cat, so as soon as we were in position I whistled.
The whistle was primarily for the purpose of telling Bloodsheen he had to hold still no matter what, but the raucous sound that resembled the attack cry of a hunting bird also served to bring us to the cat's attention. It snarled when it looked over its shoulder and saw us, yellow eyes wild with fury, and the next instant it was streaking away from the boy and directly toward me.
When you first start bow hunting, your instructor will tell you calmly that all you have to do is hold your ground and take proper aim and you'll never have to go hungry. What isn't mentioned in the beginning are those times you're the targeted meal, and all that's standing between you and a messy end is one slim shaft. A cat that size could take an arrow just about anywhere and still keep coming, but you're supposed to forget about that and aim for one of the spots it can't take a shaft.
Sure. No problem. Ignore the sweat, the pounding of your heart, the trembling your hands want to do, and just shoot. Nothing to it. I stood in my stirrups as the tawny streak of death hurtled toward me, my left hand tight on the grip, my right drawing the string all the way back to my ear. No sense in cursing my idiocy for having gotten involved, no time to worry what would happen to Bloodsheen if I missed, just find that point of aim and -
"Yahoo!" the boy shouted in delight, beating at the ground with the branch he still held. "Right through th' eye! You done it, girl, you done it!"
The cat had screamed and flipped over in the air when the shaft had entered its left eye, and was now spasming in the dirt and fallen leaves, fighting its way into death as it had fought its way through life. I already had another shaft in my string just in case, but it turned out not to be necessary. The cat's thrashing quieted to an occasional twitch, so I whistled low to release Bloodsheen from the stand order, then dismounted. By that time the boy had almost reached me, and his grin was one of the widest I'd ever seen.
"You done real good, girl, real good," he assured me as he stopped about three feet away to examine me with bright dark eyes. "You ain't frum th' mountains, I knowed thet soon's I seen ya, but you don' gotta be shamed. Ain't one o' us coulda done better."
From that distance I could see he was a little older than I'd thought, possibly as much as fourteen or fifteen, and he already stood a bit more than my height. He was still too young to have filled out much, something easily seen around the breechclout he wore as his only clothing. But with the thatch of dark hair to go with his eyes, it wasn't likely to be long before the girls were after him in earnest. If he lived that long.
"I appreciate the compliment on my shooting," I said, deliberately failing to return his grin. "What I don't appreciate quite as much is the reason that kind of shooting was necessary. Were you trying to make the cat into a pet, that you were that close to it with nothing but a branch?"
"Now, girl, no need t'beat on me fer bein' dumb as they come," he answered, wincing visibly as his own grin died. "I shouldn'a bin nowhere near thet cat, but I wus tryin' t' get th' kills frum m'saddle. Couldn' do nothin' 'bout m'pony, but I shore didn' like th' idea o'givin' up th' day's huntin'. Shoulda done it anyways."
"That would have been a good idea," I agreed with a nod, then had to blink hard against the waves of sleepiness trying to close my eyes. With that cat racing at me I'd been as wide awake as it's possible to get, but with the danger over I felt as if I'd been run over, specifically by something Bloodsheen's size. I had to find a place to sleep, and I had to do it fast.
"You okay?" the boy asked, quickly putting a hand to my arm to steady me as I lurched a little while turning back to my mount. "You gotta wound you ain't said nothin' about?"
"I'm just tired," I answered, reaching across my saddle to replace the second arrow I'd taken out of the quiver. "I've been riding too hard for too long, and now my horse and I need to camp for a while. Do these woods stretch far enough that I'm likely to find privacy if I move a little deeper into them?"
"Yew think I aim t'let ya camp in th' woods after whut y'done fer me?" the boy asked in outrage as I turned back toward him. "Our fighters'r off t'th' moon meetin', so there's plenty room in our village fer a vis'ter. Yew c'n sleep long's yew like in m'gramma's house, an' then we's gonna feed ya. Least we c'n do t'say our thanks."
"I don't need thanks for doing what anyone would have," I said, beginning to shake my head at his suggestion. "I appreciate the offer, boy, but I'm in too much of a hurry to stop for visits and meals and - "
"Yew gotta stop anyways for th' sleep ya need, an' we won't keep ya fer more'n th' one meal," he countered, those dark eyes suddenly showing a stubborn glint. "Th' Spirits would have my hide sure if'n I din't give back fer whut I got, namely my help fer th' return o'my life. Yew wanna see me skinned by th' mountain Spirits?"
His last question was more of a demand, the sort of demand you put forward when you know damned well what the answer has to be. I stood there glaring at him, too tired for any kind of argument, but before I could tell him he could be made into a hearth rug for all of me, his grin was suddenly back.
"Naw, yew cain't throw me t'th' Spirits, not afta y'done saved m'neck," he stated. "Yew ain't thet kind, girl, so we won't say no more 'bout it. I'm gonna get m'kills, an' then we'll go t' m'village. It ain't far."
He turned away and started back toward the clearing, but after two steps stopped and looked back at me over his shoulder.
"An' I ain't no boy," he said, his grin strong and certain. "I'm a man now, an' yew c'n call me Reedin."
That time when he turned away he just kept going. Bloodsheen snorted and pawed the ground a little with one hoof, possibly voicing an opinion about what we'd just been told, but all I did was yawn. The idea of having shelter to sleep in, a place where I could close both eyes instead of just one, was very attractive. If I were doing something stupid I'd certainly find it out, but hopefully not before I'd be better able to handle it. Right now I could barely put one foot in front of the other.
And walking was what I had to do. Bloodsheen had let Reedin come within three feet of me without making a sound, which showed how really exhausted the stallion had to be. I put a hand in his reins and coaxed him into following me, then I followed after my young guide who had quickly gathered up his kills and slung them over a shoulder. He paused briefly to give the dead pony a last pat goodbye, then headed through the clearing toward its other side.
It really didn't take all that long to get to Reedin's village, which seemed to be built into a wide fold of the mountain skirt. At one point it was no more than around the corner from the woods, but the corner wasn't in the middle of a city and was made out of rising rock. The village's main street was feet-smoothed rock that meandered back and forth between the odd houses that were part wood and part stone, and at first there was something strange about the people who paused to watch us go by.
And then I remembered that the village's fighters were gone, which made the presence of no more than the old and the very young not terribly strange after all. In the mountains both sexes became fighters, male and female alike, except for those few who couldn't handle the fighter's life. They, instead, became the keepers of the villages and the guardians of the very young, maintaining homes for the fighters to return to.
As we moved along the stone street toward the middle of the small village, an old woman came out of one of the houses to stand and watch us approach. The way she held herself despite her age reminded me that there were also retired fighters in the village, those who had gotten too old to fight. She had dark hair and eyes like my guide, was still fairly tall, and was dressed in the heavy, colorful trousers and shirts mountain people preferred. She had sandals on her feet rather than boots, and she smiled as Reedin led me up to her.
"Gramma, this here girl done saved m'life," the boy began, gesturing back toward me. "A woods cat got m'pony, an' - "
"Reedin, child, that's no way to introduce a guest," the woman interrupted, looking at the boy with dark, unwavering eyes. "And what would your parents say, if they heard you speakin' like a country lout? Do you intend shamin' yourself when you ride out into the world to make your mark?"
"No, ma'am," the boy answered with a sigh, obviously more patiently accepting of the criticism than abashed or embarrassed. "This girl pulled the cat away before it got me, and shafted it neat as you please. I gave her my name, but she didn't give me one in return so I didn't press her. Good manners, y'know."
"Yes, I do know," the woman answered, amusement dancing in her eyes over the way the boy had drastically changed his speech patterns - and had also gently corrected her. "My dear, I'm Folara, and this time the apology is mine. Reedin is right in that we don't believe in forcin' guests to identify themselves. Named or nameless, I welcome you to our village."
"Thank you, Folara," I said with as much of a smile as I had the strength for. "I'm Sofaltis, a name I don't mind you having, but I would appreciate not having it spread around. I still have a long way to go, and I'd rather not have unexpected company on my heels."
"An understandable desire," Folara said with a grin, apparently remembering something from her own life. "Please, come into my house and rest yourself, and we can become better acquainted over cups of brew. Reedin will see to stablin' your horse."
"I accept your invitation gratefully, but I'll have to see to my horse myself," I told her, almost wishing it didn't have to be so. "He may not look it right now, but he's a war horse who can be very dangerous if he isn't handled properly. At the moment he's even more tired than I am, but if he wakes up abruptly you don't want your grandson within range of his teeth and hooves."
"Reedin is extraordinarily good with animals, but you may be right," the woman agreed, her smile now wry. "War horses are more than just animals, and if somethin' happened to my grandson here in my very house his parents would never understand. He'll show you where to put your horse, and then we can talk."
The boy Reedin left his kills beside the front door of the house, then guided me around to the left to a recessed stable area. The area was roofed and floored in rock, and had large movable wooden doors both front and back. Right now the doors were open, making the stable seem as if it were outdoors, and I was led to a wide stall floored with clean straw and containing a clean oat bin. Reedin filled the bin while I unsaddled Bloodsheen and took his bridle, and then we were able to head back to the house.
"I'll be dressin' out my kills in the yard behind the kitchen," Reedin told me as he paused to retrieve the results of his hunt before entering the house. "You'll find Gramma at the top of them - those stairs, and if you need somethin', you just yell it out. I'll be able to hear you."
"I'll do that," I assured him with a smile, then wondered as I watched him go if I should have asked him to carry me up the stairs. The flight that lay against the wall to the right was broad and sturdy-looking with a solid handrail, but I wasn't sure I could make it all the way to the top. I thought about lying down right here in the front room, decided that that would be an insult to my hosts, which meant I had to manage the stairs. With a sigh and a heartfelt vow never to save anyone's life ever again, I made my way over to the flight and started up.
Folara must have heard the sound of my boots on the wooden stairs. She stood waiting for me at the top with a cup in her hand, but her smile had changed to a frown.
"Girl, are you all right?" she demanded as soon as I reached her, one hand on my arm to help me up the last couple of steps. "Even I don't have so much trouble climbin' those stairs, and I must be four decades or more older than you. How long have you been travelin' without stoppin' for a proper rest?"
"About a decade, I think," I answered, glancing at the open floor with cushions and furs all over it. Three of the four walls had windows in them, bringing breeziness to the room rather than stuffiness, and only a couple of candles were lit against shadows that were beginning to lengthen.
"Then come right over here and sit down," Folara said, making a sound of annoyance as she led me to a corner that was a little less filled than the rest of the floor. "This is where you'll be sleepin', so you can make yourself completely comfortable."
I took off my sword and lowered myself to the furs and cushions, saw Folara smile and join me on the floor, then she reached out a hand with a cup filled with brew. I tried to take that cup and listen to what she was saying, I really did, but somehow darkness came and blotted out everything.
The smell of grilled meat and fried eggs came through to my awareness, curling tendrils of mouthwatering aromas around my head and down into my stomach. There was also fried potatoes, I knew there was, and that convinced me I ought to do something about capturing those aromas. I seemed to recall leaving my bow with my saddle and taking off my sword, but maybe I could use a rope…
I pried my eyes open as a first step toward getting ready for the hunt, and the sight greeting me brought me the rest of the way awake. Folara crouched less than a foot away, a grin on her face and a platter in her hands.
"Well, the dead finally rise," she said, pulling back a little with the platter she'd been holding out. "When I waved last night's dinner under your nose, you didn't even twitch. If it had still been alive it could have had you for dinner."
"Last night it would have been welcome to me," I answered with a yawn. "I was so wiped out I was useless anyway. After that nice, long, uninterrupted sleep, though, I should be able to hold my own against a prospective meal, especially if it's a feral potato I'm facing. I didn't know you grew potatoes in the mountains."
"Our method of producin' potatoes in the mountains is called tradin' with lowland farmers," she said, eyeing me critically. "Are you sure you don't need a little more sleep? Lunch is just as good a meal to face in battle as breakfast."
"More sleep will have to wait," I answered with a grin, sitting up to stretch hard. "And all the sleeping in the world won't tell me what is and isn't cultivated in the mountains. When it comes to hunting, I know what to look for where. Growing is another matter entirely."
"I should have guessed that," she said with a laugh, handing me the platter. "Here, start on this, and I'll go get the chai. We usually do our eatin' downstairs in the front room, but for once we can afford to be informal."
If I hadn't been feeling hollow even to my fingernails, I might have argued. As it was I simply took the platter, settled it on my lap, and began to eat. I'd fed myself well enough during the trip even with the way I'd been hurrying, but there's a big difference between well enough and mouth watering.
Folara was back with the chai in a very short time, but she sat drinking hers silently until I was nearly through eating. The way her dark eyes studied me, carefully but without intensity or suspicion, said she had drawn certain conclusions about me. But she didn't go directly into those conclusions even when she started up the conversation again.
"You certainly showed that platter of food who the predator is," she commented, amusement turning her face into a network of fine lines. "Reedin will be feelin' very complimented when he finds out. He prides himself on his cookin' almost as much as he does his huntin'."
"Please tell him for me that his pride isn't misplaced," I answered around a mouthful of the last of it. "I haven't often tasted better, even from those who are two or three times his age. Does he intend to become a chef?"
"Not at all," she said, even more amused. "He'll be a fighter like his mother and father and brothers and sisters, and possibly even a Blade like his mother and grandmother. He's thinkin' about breakin' male tradition and joinin' a Sword Company the way many mountain women do. He thinks we've had the experience all to ourselves long enough."
"Male mountain fighters are rare in Sword Companies," I said, answering her unspoken question after sipping my chai. "Most Company captains would kill to get them, considering how welcome the female variety are. When you start learning to use a sword right after you've learned to walk, even your average efforts are usually better than other people's best."
"I take it, then, that you either are or were a Blade," she said, her smile warm and sharing. "I learned the look durin' my own time with a Sword Company, and it's somethin' you don't easily forget. Even though when you got here the look was a bit blurred."
"Blurred nothing," I said with a snort. "It was practically erased entirely. Just as I might have been if you hadn't offered your hospitality. I'd like you to know how much I appreciate that."
"The hospitality was earned and you know it," she countered, still serenely calm. "You didn't just save my grandson's life, you risked your own to do it. Too many lowlands people don't really understand what that means, but mountain folk do. A place to sleep and a fillin' meal only just begin to start payin' back what we owe. If there's anythin' else you need, all you have to do is mention it."
The smile was still there on her lips and in her eyes, and the words had been spoken with no special emphasis at all. Someone who didn't know mountain women might have assumed she was just saying what was expected of her, nothing she really meant, but that someone would have been wrong. I'd just been given a binding oath of honor, and if, for instance, I'd asked to have everyone in a particular city slaughtered it would have been done. After that the fighters would have come after me, for asking for something so dishonorable, but first the slaughtering would have been done.
"As a matter of fact there is something I could use help with," I conceded, making no effort to talk her out of an oath she was honor-bound to give. "I've come to the mountains looking for a couple of people, but the trail is about half a decade cold. Two young men, traveling from the south on their way out to see the world. They were brothers, and determined to learn what the mountains held before going on to the lesser glories of the rest of the world."
"So they heard the tales of wonders, and came to see for themselves, did they?" she asked with a chuckle. "We come across many of that sort, usually higher up and usually in trouble of one kind or another. Our mountains aren't gentle with those who don't know them, but sometimes the Spirits show pity for those who come to share rather than take. You're certain they were ridin' toward the clouds?"
"More hoping than certain," I admitted, looking down at the chai still left in my cup. "They're my brothers, one older, one younger, and we haven't heard from them since they left. I remembered how eager they were to ride toward the clouds, and since no one has searched in this direction I decided to try my hand at it. I have a permanent invitation to visit from a friend who returned to the mountains a couple of years ago, so I thought I'd see if there was any way she could help me."
"For someone who's invited, every effort is made to find a way, even durin' times like these," she said with a distracted nod, then raised her eyes to me. "May I ask, without ties, who your friend is?"
I hesitated very briefly, reminded by her choice of words that everyone in the mountains isn't friends with everyone else. Feuds between clans and bloodlines could be bitter and violent and bloody, but her asking me the question "without ties" meant that any feud with my friend would not be automatically extended to me. Under normal circumstances it would be, even though I was a complete stranger to the region.
"My friend called herself Kaffa Tei of the Sky," I answered after the very brief pause, watching Folara carefully. "I was supposed to find an inn named Mist of the Mountain, take a room, and then ask someone to find her. Have you ever heard of her?"
"Frankly, I wish I could say no," Folara responded, but she happened to be grinning again and shaking her head. "So she called herself Kaffa Tei of the Sky, did she? I can't say I'm surprised, knowin' Kaffa as I do. In the ancient tongue, Tei means queen."
"You mean she had everyone calling her queen?" I demanded with a laugh, suddenly remembering exactly what Kaffa had been like. "No wonder she almost turned the Company inside out - and no wonder we all missed her so much when she left. But how did she know the ancient tongue? I thought only a handful of mountain people still remember it."
"It's a little more than a handful, but not that much more," she said, reaching over to the chai pitcher to refill our cups. "Our Spirit Voices, what lowlanders call mountain witches, use the tongue to speak to the Spirits of the mountain, and Kaffa was chosen as a child to become a Voice. She was taught the ancient tongue right along with this one, and when she came back from her time in the world she took her place as apprentice to Aimisse, the most powerful Voice in these mountains. She also leads Aimisse's fighters - when she isn't playin' silly tricks on people she likes."
I smiled again at the reminder of what Kaffa usually got up to, but I wasn't so distracted that I missed an important point. If the ancient tongue was known only among those who were Spirit Voices and Folara had been able to translate one of the words for me, then that meant -
"Am I supposed to call you something other than Folara?" I asked, now sending the smile in her direction. "It isn't polite to miss using your host's title, but I don't know the precise title a Spirit Voice uses."
"Folara is all anyone calls me," she answered with a very amused smile of her own. "My bein' a Spirit Voice doesn't entitle me to privileges, it simply adds to my responsibilities. I speak to the Spirits of the mountain because I was born with the ability to do it, not because I decided I wanted power over my people. Lowlanders work things for power and position. We don't do the same because the mountain Spirits don't like that attitude in those around them. If someone tries anyway, they end up regrettin' it."
"So I understand," I commented, remembering some of the stories Kaffa had occasionally told. At the time I'd thought they were just ghost stories made up to frighten the gullible, but now… "Well, I hope Kaffa can find the time in the midst of her responsibilities to help me ask around. If my brothers came through here, there may still be someone around who remembers."
"I'll ask my own people, but I'm certain they didn't come through our village," Folara said, looking thoughtful. "It isn't as though we guard the only way into the mountains, after all, and even if they rode here from the same direction you did, they could have taken a different path to the upper reaches. Kaffa will be able to help you ask around higher up, where there are fewer paths that are watched more carefully. As long as they didn't spend their time in the northern reaches, you should be able to find out somethin'."
"What's wrong with the northern reaches?" I asked, watching her empty her cup. "Are they such bitter enemies to Kaffa's people that they won't even talk to her?"
Folara hesitated visibly, her eyes on the empty cup in her hand, but then she shook her head in annoyance. At first I thought the headshake was meant for me, but apparently it was for some idea she'd had.
"Our troubles are our own, but keepin' them private from someone who will be travelin' with welcome through the mountains is more than foolish," she stated, at the same time beginning to rise to her feet. "If you end up runnin' blind into some corner of those troubles, we'll have given you poor thanks in return for your help. Come walk with me now, and I'll tell you what I can."
I emptied my own cup and put it aside, grabbed my swordbelt as I rose to my feet, then followed Folara toward the stairs. She kept silent until we reached the room below, and then she turned to study me with troubled eyes.
"There are invadin' troops of some sort in the northern reaches," she said, the admission far from easy and clearly embarrassing as well as frustrating. "They were there and had taken over a key village before anyone knew what was happenin', and we haven't been able to get them out again. We're keepin' them from spreadin' the way they obviously intended doin', but we still can't get them out."
"Are they part of Prince Traffis's troops?" I asked at once with a frown, making no mention at all about the shame the mountain fighters must have been feeling. "If they are, they're here for a reason that won't do any of us any good."
"We've already figured that out," she said with a grimace. "We also thought the lowlander war wasn't likely to touch our lives, but obviously we were wrong. Somehow that Prince Traffis must have bought a traitor. If he hadn't, his fighters wouldn't have gotten very far in our mountains. They can't move out in force and still keep their lives, but small groups have been found here and there, tryin' to make as much trouble as they could. Keep your eyes open as you ride, and don't assume your back is safe because you're in the mountains. Those treekah have never even heard of the word honor."
"I really think we need to know why they're here," I said as she began to turn away. "Even Prince Traffis would know better than to waste troops by sending them into the mountains - unless there was some very special reason that made the effort necessary and worthwhile. Is he trying to reinforce his numbers?"
"You'll have to get the details from Kaffa," Folara answered with a shake of her head. "What I've found out is mostly rumor, and the rest is from the mountain Spirits. I have a great deal of deep respect for the Spirits, but they usually hold with the tradition that requires them to be as vague as possible when speakin' to a Voice. Would you like a bath before you leave?"
"I'd love a bath, but I don't have the time for one," I answered with regret, glancing at her as I finished buckling my swordbelt. "If Bloodsheen is feeling as rested as I am, we'll be leaving as soon as someone supplies directions to the Mist of the Mountains inn."
"Please forgive the observation, but you seem in quite a hurry for someone followin' a trail that's half a decade cold," she said, glancing back at me as she led the way outside. It was the start of another beautiful day, and the air was so fresh and clean it made you want to do nothing more than stand there and breathe it in. "If you have trouble you're just not botherin' to mention, it would please me to be able to help."
"I do have trouble, but the only thing that will help is finding one or both of my brothers," I told her, raising a hand to shade my eyes from the brightening sun. "I'm moving as fast as I'm doing because it's possible I'm being followed, and the problem with that is that the followers may not be enemies. Not that I don't have enemies who are also after my scalp. The trick is in staying ahead of all of them, not setting up an ambush that might net some people I don't care to see hurt."
"I'm almost sorry I asked," she said, giving me a peculiar look as she shook her head. "That explanation you just supplied would do credit to a mountain Spirit, but I have learned not to ask silly questions about somethin' that really isn't any of my business. Now, about the way to the inn - "
Her words broke off at the sound of hoofbeats back along the street, coming from the direction I'd come from. For an instant I felt tempted to hold my breath, convinced I'd stopped long enough to be caught up to, but then the mercenaries rode into sight and my heart stopped pounding. There were seven of them in their tan leathers, and from what I could see of their faces from that distance, they were all grinning.
"This is a nice village," the one who seemed to be their leader shouted, sending the words in all directions. "It's so nice, in fact, that we'll be staying for a while. First we want food and wine, and then we'll take whatever gold and silver you have. After that we'll look over the girls, and the lucky ones will get to keep us company until we move on. Be smart, and you'll still have a village after that. Which one of you is chief, or headman, or whatever you plods call it?"
The people of the village had stopped what they were doing to listen to the announcement, but strangely enough none of them seemed terribly bothered by what they'd heard. Personally, I didn't like the message much and was already reaching for my hilt, but the movement was a waste of time. Five arrows flew out of nowhere accompanied by two throwing sticks, and suddenly there were seven emptied saddles.
"When the two we saved come around, we'll question them," Folara commented, barely glancing at the seven bodies on the ground before turning back to me. "They're not the first group of mercenaries makin' their way into the mountains lately, which might be an answer to the question you asked about the reinforcin' of those troops. If we get anythin' useful from the two before we cut their throats, I'll send word to Kaffa."
I nodded a little as I watched five old people with bows appear, accompanied by two youngsters who were intent on retrieving their throwing sticks. A larger bunch of kids showed up to start dragging away the bodies with arrows in them, frightened horses were soothed and led off, and two of the mercenaries were turned over so their wrists and ankles could be tied. One of the two was the one who had spoken, and I had the distinct feeling he'd soon be regretting everything he'd said.
"Were they raised in clothes chests?" I couldn't help asking, finding it hard to believe anyone could be as stupid as those mercenaries. "How could they think they'd be able to just ride into a mountain village and take it over? Haven't they ever heard of mountain fighters?"
"Mountain fighters are young men and women, and we here are all old people or very young children," Folara said with a laugh and a twinkle in her dark eyes. "It seems to go past them that the old were good enough fighters to live to grow old, and the youngsters have been trainin' all their lives. Somethin' like this doesn't happen too often, but when it does we enjoy the diversion. Why don't we go and see how your horse is doin'?"
She gestured toward the side of the house where the stable area was, then began to walk toward it. I, of course, had no choice but to follow, but the strangest idea was also coming through.
"Folara, I don't mean to be rude, but are you trying to get rid of me?" I asked, making sure the words were filled with nothing but mild curiosity. "I am in a hurry, and I do appreciate not having my stay prolonged, but there seems to be something else behind the way you're acting. If I'm wrong I apologize, but - "
"No, you don't need to apologize," she interrupted as she stopped short, then turned to face me again with a sigh. "When I suddenly understood what the Spirits had told me this mornin', I thought I could get by without mentionin' it. But obviously that's not goin' to work, so I might as well say it straight out. Sofaltis - you need to get to Kaffa as quickly as possible."
"Need to," I echoed, staring into her dark, troubled eyes. "But not for the reason I originally came looking for her."
"No, not for that reason," she agreed with a faint smile, noticing that I hadn't put the idea as a question. "The need refers to both of you in some way, but apparently its exact nature isn't my business. You two will share the knowledge once you're together."
"Oh, boy, I get to be in on secret things," I muttered as I looked away, feeling frustration rise up inside me. Complications were exactly what I didn't need just now, but someone had gone ahead without first asking for my preference. I knew exactly how little time I had altogether, and now -
"If the Spirits need you for somethin', they'll repay your cooperation with more help from them than you would normally have gotten," Folara soothed me, apparently understanding what was bothering me. "They never take without givin' somethin' back, and if what they take is important, so is what they give. The burnin' hurry you feel inside won't be allowed to consume you."
"The hurry isn't what's waiting to swallow me down," I told her with a grimace, then couldn't help laughing a little at her expression. "Honestly, I'm not trying to be vague and mysterious on purpose. It's just that - "
"It's just that you and the Spirits have a whole lot in common," she interrupted again, the sour look she sent making me grin. "Come on, let's get you goin' the way we're supposed to."
The phrase "supposed to" got rid of my grin, but I still followed her into the stable and toward the stall I'd left Bloodsheen in. My stallion was more than awake and obviously ready to go and do, so I got him saddled and bitted and backed out of the stall. Folara stood examining him with brightly interested eyes while I retrieved my saddlebags and bow from the corner of the stall I'd left them in, and when I came out again we had company.
"Mornin'," the boy Reedin said with a grin and a nod for me from where he stood beside his grandmother. Instead of simply wearing a breechclout, he was dressed in brown trousers and boots and a shirt of muted forest colors. "Glad to hear you enjoyed my cookin'. Least I can do for the girl who saved my life is see her properly fed."
"Well, you certainly did that," I told him with a smile before turning to settle the saddlebags behind my saddle. "That was the best breakfast I've had in a long while. And now, Folara, I think we'd better get back to the subject of how I find the inn I'm looking for."
"You won't have any trouble findin' it," the woman answered with amusement in her voice. "Reedin is goin' with you to show you the way, and he knows the mountains fairly well. He's been past the inn a number of times, so you don't have to worry that he's usin' guesswork."
I turned away from Bloodsheen to look back at them, and Reedin's grin was even wider than it had been. In clothes he looked less like a boy and more like a young man, but his need to repay the favor I'd done him would have to be satisfied by the meal he'd cooked.
"I'm sorry, Reedin, but I really do prefer traveling alone," I told him with as much real regret as I could muster. "Not only do other horses have trouble keeping up with Bloodsheen, I also dislike picturing what might happen to anyone nearby if my enemies should somehow catch up to me. I'll just have to settle for the best instructions you can give."
"Sofaltis, Reedin's meant to go with you," Folara said gently with a sigh, her wry expression showing she knew how well I would enjoy hearing that. "As you can see he's the only one who approves of the idea - besides the Spirits, that is. Since the choice isn't ours, there's nothin' we can do."
"I don't think your mountain Spirits and I are going to get along," I stated, disliking the way Reedin's grin hadn't wavered an inch. "And you, boy. If you intend living long enough to go out in the world, you'll have to learn better than to laugh when a Blade is forced to do something against his or her will. It isn't a healthy pastime."
"With all the Blades we have in these mountains, that's one lesson I already know," he answered, his grin less but by no means gone. "I'm not really laughin', you understand, just enjoyin' the idea of doin' somethin' for the Spirits. And you don't have to worry about my pony keepin' up with your stallion. Once we leave here the goin' is mostly up, and nobody does that fast if they like livin'."
"And if my enemies show up, you'll just fade into the rock," I said sourly with a nod. "I've known people before who had all the answers, and some of them even survived to find out how little they really knew. If you're coming along, you'd better get your gear and your mount."
He flashed me a quick grin before trotting off toward the front of the stable, and Folara watched him go with a weary sigh.
"I keep havin' to remind myself that we were all like that at his age," she said as she shook her head. "Before this is over, I think the mountain Spirits are goin' to be owin' you more than they realize. Havin' to put up with that without bein' able to kill is a chore and a half."
"I used to wonder how the recruit trainers in my Company put up with it," I said with a sigh of my own. "It looks like I'll be getting some kind of answer, and that fairly soon. Are you sure there's no mistake about his coming along with me? What's he supposed to be doing besides supplying a guide I don't really need?"
"I have no idea," she answered with a shrug. "You need to get to Kaffa as fast as possible, and Reedin has to guide you. He'll also take off lookin' for Kaffa once he gets you to the inn, but beyond that? I'm hopin' there is no other reason."
"But you don't believe it any more than I do," I said as I turned back to pat Bloodsheen before taking his reins. "From something he said I got the feeling he's close to the mountain Spirits, and either he's involved in this in some way, or they're doing him a favor. If it turns out to be a favor, his life is in definite danger - and not from any enemies. If it's possible to send word back to you, I'll do it."
"Then I'll be the one owin' a favor," she said with a smile, beginning to lead the way out of the stable. "And, of course, if anythin' comes up here I'll send it on. You two ride carefully, and if there's somethin' I can do to help, just let me know."
"We'll be fine, Gramma," Reedin assured her as he joined us, holding the reins of a brown pony. "The girl can handle anythin' I can't, and I can handle anythin' but shooin' away a big cat with nothin' but a branch. What else is there in the mountains that can hurt us?"
I think the fact that he was grinning really wide as he said that might have been the only reason Folara let him live. The look she gave him was one I'd seen on Blades before, usually just before the spilling of a lot of blood, and then they were hugging each other tightly as a final farewell. I got my own hug from Folara, and then Reedin and I mounted and headed out of the village.
Kylin had been moving without stop for more than two hours, but he finally came to a halt in a place that was both level and wide enough for more than one horse at a time. Traixe had apparently been waiting for something like that, as he lost no time urging his mount over next to Kylin's.
"My lord, are you sure she came this way?" Traixe asked, his voice held prudently low. "There can't possibly be tracks in all this rock, and we haven't even seen signs of recent camping. The last riders coming through here must have been days ago."
"They may have arrived days ago, but they haven't yet left the area," Kylin murmured in answer, his narrowed eyes searching the wooded stretch ahead of them. "There's a campfire not too far away, and I thought I heard laughter."
"And Sofaltis may have come this way ahead of us," Traixe said, obviously feeling a sudden churning of his insides. "Why are we just sitting here?"
"Steady, man," Kylin soothed him, adding a glance to the words. "Since they're not making any attempt to hide, I seriously doubt that Tisah wouldn't have known they were there. We'll just ride by to give them the courtesy of a hello - to show how polite we are - and then we'll keep going. She can't be that far ahead of us, not anymore."
Kylin smiled faintly at Traixe's short, stiff nod, pleased with how quickly the older Fighter had himself back under control. He didn't know - and Kylin couldn't tell him - that Tisah hadn't passed this way at all. The last of her tracks had led off in another direction, but the silver bracer around Kylin's left arm had insisted that he and the others take this route. The young King's Fighter didn't know why, but he hadn't been able to argue.
As he began to move forward into the woods with the others behind him, Kylin had to admit there was more than one thing he hadn't been able to argue against. His intended schedule of riding on until the horses were ready to drop had been changed to an odd combination of hurry-and-rest periods, but the combination seemed to work out better. The miles had disappeared behind them in satisfying chunks, and the girl couldn't be that far ahead of them even if she hadn't stopped until she and her horse were ready to founder together.
And he hadn't been able to tell Traixe about the bracer. Kylin had finally decided that the older man had a right to know, but every time he started in on an explanation something happened to interrupt or distract them. After half a dozen tries Kylin had finally given up, but he wasn't happy about it. If Traixe found out some other way he would think Kylin didn't trust him, and nothing would be farther from the truth.
"There they are," Traixe murmured from Kylin's right, staring at the group now visible through the thin, scattered trees. "Mercenaries by their leather, and almost a decade of them. What in Evon's sharpest hell are they doing?"
"Something that needs to be stopped and fast," Kylin growled as he caught a glimpse that Traixe had obviously missed. "Keep loose and follow my lead."
Kylin kicked his horse into motion without waiting for acknowledgments from the others, his full attention on the group they approached. Two of them were somewhat apart from the others, one sitting on the ground with his hands to his head, the other bent over and clutching his left shoulder, but the rest were in a circle. Two of them were crouched to hold something still on the ground, and the thin, frightened shouts coming through the mercenaries' coarse laughter told Kylin exactly what the something was.
Just as Kylin decided he would have to shout to get their attention, the mercenaries finally noticed the four men riding through the trees at them. Most of them turned with hands to hilts, but the fact that they outnumbered the newcomers made them grin rather than draw. They were so confidently sure they were in no danger, that the one pulling the trousers from the girl being held on the ground finished that chore before rising to face the intruders.
"You four better just keep going," the man advised with his own easy grin, his eyes moving around among them. "We only just caught this little wildcat, and there probably won't be much left once we're through. If you want a ride, you'll have to find your own mount."
"You see?" Kylin said to Traixe with a satisfied expression, sounding as though he were proving a point. "I told you they didn't know, but you refused to believe me. If we'd just kept going, it would have gotten them all."
"I still can't believe they don't know," Traixe answered, immediately picking up on Kylin's line. "I could have sworn everybody knew."
"Knew? Knew what?" The mercenary leader's words were a demand, his grin having disappeared. "What are you two talking about?"
"We're talking about the reason why no man in his right mind lets one of those mountain witches near him," Kylin replied with calm, friendly patience, beginning to dismount almost as an afterthought. "I don't know how you missed hearing about it, but if you hadn't missed you wouldn't be messing with her."
"You're not talking about all those fairytales they tell about the mountains?" the mercenary asked with scorn, apparently not even noticing that Kylin's three companions were also dismounting. "Those stories are nothing but hogwash, dreamed up to keep people from knowing how easy these mountain goats are to best. We were told all about it before we took hire to come here."
"You were told that by someone you could believe?" Traixe asked, his eyes wide to show how hard he tried to accept what he now heard. "Who could that possibly be?"
"It was a priest of Ramas," the mercenary said with satisfaction, obviously ending all argument. "If a mercenary can't believe a priest of Ramas, who can he believe?"
"That's a good question," Kylin muttered, even more surprised than he let show. Mercenaries swore by Ramas, their patron god, so hearing that from a priest of Ramas would convince them like nothing else. Something strange was going on, and Kylin didn't like it even before he found out exactly what it was.
"There's only one problem," Traixe remarked, rubbing his face with a hand as he gave the mercenary a thoughtful look. "You heard that from a priest of Ramas, but those priests don't fight like - oh, say, priests of Evon do. If it turns out they told you the wrong thing because they were told the wrong thing, the only ones getting hurt because of it will be you and your men."
A few of the mercenaries laughed at the idea of a priest of Ramas being wrong, but the rest looked more disturbed than amused.
"Don't you think a priest would know if somebody was lying to him?" the mercenary leader demanded, a pale wash of fear behind the rasp of his words. "They're not fools, you know, even if they don't fight…"
"But something has to be wrong somewhere," Traixe pursued, his mildness twinned with mercilessness. "If I know for a fact - and I do - that any man forcing a mountain witch starts to lose whatever part of him touches her, then somebody has to be lying. I'll never forget the ones I heard it from, men who had once been Fighters, men who had once been men. It started first with an itching in the palms, they said, because their hands had been the first things to touch her. If only they'd known enough to wash hard enough to scrape the skin off, they said…"
The men holding the girl to the ground scrabbled back away from her, frantically wiping their hands on their shirt leather. Others around the circle began to look down at their own hands, one or two already beginning to scratch.
"… hard enough to scrape the skin off, they said," Traixe continued, "they might have had a chance to stay whole. But they hadn't known enough, they'd ignored the itching that started small and easy, and then it was too late. The poison had soaked into them, moving fast to the ends of their bodies … all the ends of their bodies … and then the burning started, the itching and burning together … one of them went so crazy from it, he cut off his own - "
One of the mercenaries screamed and broke, running frantically toward a stand of bushes that might have hidden a pond or a small lake. Three more took off right after him, grunted sounds of terror escaping their throats, and most of the rest turned numbly to watch them go. Since no one seemed to be looking at the four intruders, Kylin leaned toward Traixe.
"Remind me to tell you to follow my lead more often, Traixe," he breathed, fighting to keep from showing too much amusement. "Another time or two, and people will start to believe I'm a genius."
Traixe grinned very briefly at the praise, clearly knowing that Kylin wasn't entirely joking, and then they had to send their attention back to where it had been.
"Wait a minute," the mercenary leader was in the midst of saying, obviously forcing himself to stop trying to rub his palms clean against his swordbelt. "Wait just one damn minute. You four aren't brothers of ours, so why would you go to all the trouble of warning us? Why would you care what happened to us, unless - You bastards, you want the girl for yourselves, so you lied! I'll kill you for that!"
He drew his sword and rushed at them like a madman, but only three of his men were left to confusedly follow his lead after too long a hesitation. By the time the three had engaged Traixe and his two Fighters, Kylin had already drawn, beaten aside the leader's attack, and run the man through the chest. As the dead leader's body collapsed to the ground Kylin strode past it, hurried to the trousers lying in a heap on the ground, then scooped them up and threw them to the now-crouching girl.
"Take those and get out of here fast," he told the girl, giving his attention to the direction the rest of the mercenaries had gone in. "I'm assuming you don't need any help disappearing, but if I'm wrong just say so. My horse can carry two for a while."
"Thanks, but you're right about my not needin' the help," the girl answered, drawing the trousers on and up before standing. She was young and on the small side, but even though she still seemed shaky her voice said she was back in command. "Where did those treekah throw my staff… Oh, there it is. And by the way - thanks for the help. I particularly liked your friend's story."
"The help and the story were our pleasure," Kylin answered with a grin, watching her retrieve a staff bigger than she was. "We're guarding your retreat, so you'd better start retreating."
"I'm retreatin', I'm retreatin'," she grumbled with a laugh and a grin of her own, already moving off. She was a pretty little thing with dark hair and eyes, and a voice like velvet bells. "I can see you're headin' up into the mountains, so I'll find you later to say a proper thanks. Until then, I stand in your debt…"
Kylin glanced away to be sure the other mercenaries weren't coming back, and when he looked toward the girl again she had disappeared from sight. He also couldn't hear her, and that should mean she no longer needed her line of retreat guarded.
"All right, let's get mounted and moving," he told the others as he strode back to them, ignoring the three new bodies on the ground. One of Traixe's Fighters had also knocked out the two injured mercenaries, those who had apparently fallen victim to the girl's staff before she was taken. There were only four left of that particular mercenary group besides the two who were unconscious, but Kylin had the distinct feeling there were other groups around - and possibly closer than would be convenient.
Once mounted and moving, they left the campsite quickly behind. They rode on for a while, left the stand of woods in favor of taking a trail going higher into the mountains, and once again were climbing upwards. Almost an hour went by before they reached another level place, and Kylin decided to pause there to give them a chance to eat and clean their weapons. The two Fighters were pleased with the decision, but Traixe seemed too preoccupied to be pleased.
"There's something very wrong, my lord, and we're going to have to find out what it is," Traixe said when Kylin questioned him, his dark eyes troubled. "That mercenary said he and his band had taken hire, and a priest of Ramas had assured them it was safe. If, as a priest of Evon, I assured you it was safe to go into the mountains and do as you pleased, what would you say to the advice?"
"Traixe, I'd really dislike using that kind of language to a priest of Evon, but getting that sort of advice would bring it on," Kylin conceded. "Those men have to know what mountain fighters are capable of, but instead of remembering, they're believing their priest. And what sort of hire could they possibly have been given, not to mention by whom?"
"It has to link up with the war somehow," Traixe said, distractedly running his hand over Kylin's horse's flank. "I can't imagine what Prince Traffis can be thinking of, but he must be planning a secret strike of some sort. From out of the mountains, once he has it cleared of mountain fighters? He'd have to be insane to believe it could be done."
"Even using every mercenary willing to take the hire," Kylin agreed as he took a bite out of the leftover venison he'd just unwrapped. "There aren't enough mercenaries in this kingdom or any other to do a job like that, and that doesn't even count how much better at fighting the mountain people are. Maybe he is insane."
"Or maybe we just aren't seeing his real purpose," Traixe fretted, now staring at the rock of the ground. "And maybe the purpose isn't his, but someone else's entirely. Once we catch up to Sofaltis, we'll have to send her home while we look into what's happening."
Kylin nearly choked on the meat he ate, but putting his reaction into words became unnecessary. Traixe suddenly realized what he'd said, and a very painful expression appeared on his face. Sure, send Sofaltis home. Possibly with Evon riding as her guard, she might even be brought there. But with mortal men, men who were not Kylin or Traixe or her father? Would they last beyond the first hour, or if they did last, would the girl still be with them?
Kylin saw Traixe glance at his two Fighters before turning away toward his horse and a meal of his own. Traixe liked those two young men, just as Kylin was learning to, so to keep them safe Traixe would have to take back what he'd said. Something else would have to be done, but deciding what that could be wasn't going to be easy.
The roadhouse wasn't very busy at that early afternoon hour, so Rull, Jak, Ham, and Foist had no trouble finding a table in the dining room. They all ordered brew, waited until the serving girl had it in front of them, then they ordered a light meal. None of them said anything else until half the brew was swallowed, and then Jak looked at their Fist leader.
"She didn't come this way, Rull," he stated, making no attempt to soften the words. "No tracks, no one having seen her, no stops at inns or roadhouses even though we've been going a bit east as well as north… Soft and Gentle isn't heading back to the Company."
"It's possible she's just making an effort to keep out of sight," Rull answered without more than glancing up, sounding as though he didn't really believe the words himself. They'd been on the move for days, searching for tracks until they were bleary-eyed, taking it as slow as their anxiety would allow, and all they had to show for their efforts was a handful of nothing.
"Where in Evon's sharpest hell could she have gone?" Ham demanded in a tired rumble, obviously too played out even to glare at his Fistmates. "If she isn't at home and isn't going back to the Company, where in hell is she?"
"On her way to some place she decided on before she left," Foist said, pale eyes moving around the room they sat in. Some of the other tables were filled with local louts, the sort who often followed travelers out of the roadhouse with robbery in mind. That, however, wasn't likely to happen to him and his Fistmates. The idlers, after their first, startled recognition of what all that black leather meant, weren't even looking in their direction. Foist clearly considered that a pity, as he and the others could have used the diversion.
"All right, I don't think there's any denying she did leave with a specific destination in mind," Jak said, looking around at all of them. "What we have to do now is sift through our memories, especially you, Rull. Did Softy ever mention anything she really wanted to do, or something she considered unfinished down here? Someone she wanted to see again, or meet for the first time? It would have been drinking or bed talk, and it would have made you remember something you never did or left unfinished. Think about it."
Ham frowned and wrinkled his brow, immediately taking up the suggestion, and Foist moved his pale-eyed stare to the brew left in his cup. Jak noticed that the table of bullies Foist had been staring at suddenly contained a lot of relieved men who finished their drinks fast then scrambled for the door, but he wasn't in the mood to be amused. Most men found Foist's stare more than they could handle, his light, soulless eyes somehow telling them that Foist would surely laugh as he spilled their blood in the most horrible of ways. But Softy had never fallen for that, and she'd started to joke with Foist even before she joined the Fist. That, after her fighting ability, had been one of the first things recommending her to them…
Jak noticed that even Rull seemed to be sorting through his memory, which was at least a small blessing. For almost two days Rull had been sunk in deep depression, leaving it to Jak to make most of the decisions, and that wasn't right. Rull had started out believing he'd been given a second chance, had tried to make the most of it, and had found ashes instead of hope. If they didn't locate Softy and get that mess straightened out for good and all, Rull might never pull out of it…
"Well, well, and here I been hopin' we'd seed th' last o' yore bunch," the innkeep behind the counter drawled to two newcomers. The men had come into the roadhouse as if with the last of their strength, and were leaning on the counter looking ill and badly shaken. "You finally dig up th' smarts t'break it off with Grish 'n Chlor?"
"We ain't never gonna be ridin' with Grish 'n Chlor agin, an' thet's fer true," one of the men answered as he glanced at his companion. "Ain't nobody gonna be ridin' with 'em. Yew gonna wait till we fall daid b'fore y'draw us some brew? We don' get a drink, we ain't never gonna stop shakin'."
"I don' see no coppers, you don' get no brew," the innkeep stated, obviously unmoved by their need, his big hands flat on the counter top. "I told you thet las' time I throwed you out, an' it ain't changed. You got th' coppers?"
"Yeah, we got 'em, so don' yew go worryin'," the man answered, producing a silver piece to throw on the counter. "Grish 'n Chlor din't need their horses no more, so we sold 'em. Ain't gonna be nothin' left whin we finish drinkin'."
The innkeep scooped up the silver, drew two cups of brew to put in front of the men, then counted out their change in copper. By then they had half their cups emptied, so the innkeep eyed them curiously.
"Sounds like you boys run inta somethin' none o' you counted on," he remarked. "Grish try t'take a bite outa a wagon 'thout seein' the guards ridin' with it?"
"Grish found hisself a demon, that's whut he done," the second man answered immediately, the brew having obviously dissolved some sort of a dam in him. "Din't look like no demon, not at first, but Grail ain't kiddin' when He says yew cain't never tell by looks. An' it awmost got us right after Grish."
"I keep tellin' yew, it waren't no demon," the first man said, looking pale behind the strength of his denial. "A demon wouldn'a let us run off like thet, it would'a cum after us."
"It did start t'cum after us!" the second man stated, turning haunted eyes on his companion. "While its horse part wus stamping th' life outta Grish 'n Chlor, its girl part wus startin' t'draw on you 'n me. Started movin' at us, too, an' that ain't no lie. Girl part din't say nothin' t'th' horse part, but it killed Grish 'n Chlor anyways. If thet ain't no demon in two parts, yew tell me whut it wus."
"Mebbe - mebbe th' girl trained thet there horse," the first man groped, still looking pale. "We din't hear 'er say nothin', but thet don' mean she din't. Yeah, that's it, she trained thet there horse."
"T'kill folks as walk near it?" the second man demanded with scorn. "'Thout 'er sayin' nothin'? Yew think King's Fighters'd let folk do somethin' like thet there? They'da had 'er 'fore now, fer all th' folk thet horse would'a kilt. I tell ya it wus a demon, an' it ain't done with us. It's gonna get us jest like it got Grish 'n Chlor."
The first man was about to add to his argument, something he'd obviously been doing for a while, but he never got past parting his lips. Jak had moved to stand directly behind the two, and when they turned to look up at him and saw his black leathers, they went even more pale.
"This demon you ran into," Jak said, seeing the way the smaller men flinched. "Was the horse part red, and the girl part brown-haired and tall with gray eyes? She might even have been wearing the same kind of leathers I am."
"Naw, there waren't no leathers," the second man answered readily while the first just stared with his mouth open. "Th' rest, though, is jest like yew said. An' I bet yew know thet demon, don' tcha? I knowed it couldn'a bin a girl 'n a horse, I knowed it!"
"It so happens my friends and I are looking for that demon," Jak said, aware of the sudden presence of his Fistmates beside and around him. "If you'll tell us where you saw it and when, we'll go after it and keep it from coming after you."
"It wus easta here, a day's hard ridin' 'thout eny stops," the first man babbled, getting the words out as fast as possible. "Headin' up inta th' mountains wus my guess, afore it d'cided t'cum afta us. Yew an' yore friends think y'c'n stop it? Yew do, an' we'll give ya all we got. It wus Grish 'n Chlor as wanned t'do it harm, we din't never wanna - "
"We should take them with us to show us the spot," Ham growled, his glower and suggestion both turning the two men even more pale. "If we don't pick up their tracks, we might never find it."
"We don't need the exact spot," Rull put in suddenly, his eyes alive again with hope. "You were right, Jak, about Softy's saying something I hadn't remembered. It has to do with the eastern mountains and her brothers. I'll tell you about it while we ride."
"You can tell us about it while we eat," Jak contradicted as he grabbed Rull's arm, stopping him from turning away. "The horses have earned a good meal and a little rest, and so have we. We're still a couple of days behind her, so making up an extra hour or two later won't mean that much."
"He's right, Rull," Foist agreed when their Fist leader hesitated, a stubborn look beginning to grow in his eyes. "We've been at it for days without any real rest, and you didn't get much even before that. Is that any way for a man to prepare himself for demon hunting?"
Rull looked at him fast to see the faint, cold smile Foist considered a wide grin of amusement, and that seemed to break the tension of the moment. Rull began to chuckle, Jak joined him, and then Ham was rumbling out laughter as they turned to go back to their table. Now that they knew which way to go they did have time, at least for the meal they'd ordered. After that they'd be riding hard, and with war horses under them. And with Rull back to the way he was supposed to be.
Reedin took the lead once we were out of the village, but his gray pony wasn't as pleased with the position as its rider. Having his hindquarters that close to the teeth of an impatient war horse would bother any reasonable animal, and the gray pony was sensible as well as reasonable. For that reason we ended up moving fast enough to surprise Reedin, but it was also enough to cause him to call a halt even before it was noon.
"We better let this pony rest awhile, or I'll be ridin' double with you, girl," he said as he dismounted on a small shelf, the first flat area we'd seen since leaving the village. "And you, horse. You give my mount the fits, and it's you who'll be carryin' me. You really want that?"
Bloodsheen seemed to know Reedin was talking to him, and if I never before saw a stallion grin, I certainly saw it now.
"I think he's trying to tell you two things," I said to Reedin, swallowing down a grin of my own as I also dismounted. "One is that he's just teasing your mount and has no real intention of hurting him, and the second is that he doesn't often let anyone ride double. If it's in the midst of battle and one of my Fistmates happens to be afoot he might make an exception, but other than that you're not likely to see it."
"You were in a Fist?" Reedin blurted, his face suddenly looking very young and eager. "My mother and gramma were Blades, but even they weren't chosen for a Fist. Were there mountain women in it?"
"No, my Fistmates were all male Blades," I answered, refusing to let myself feel how much I missed that part of my former life. "We rode together for almost half a decade, but now they need to find a new fifth. Once I finish my business in the mountains, I won't be going back to my Company."
"Because it's time to move on," Reedin said with a thoughtful nod, as though the idea were sad but completely expected. "Mountain women join Companies for a few years for the fun, and they always know they won't be stayin'. They never mind comin' home, 'cause there's somethin' new waitin' for them to get to it. What new thing are you goin' to be doin'?"
His question was put in his usual open and friendly way, no attempt intended to box me in a corner. That he'd managed to do it anyway was pure accident, but that didn't make the corner any less cold or the box any less constricting. I gave Bloodsheen a pat and turned away to walk to the edge of the trail we were following, then stood looking at the pocket of woods that angled down and away to the left. It would have been possible to move upward through the tangle of trees and brush the wood was composed of, but the trail worn into the stone of the mountain made far easier - not easy, but easier - going.
"It's goin' to sound like I'm pryin', but I'm still goin' to say it," Reedin's voice came from behind me, now sounding a good deal more serious and purposeful. "You don't have somethin' waitin' for you after you're done in the mountains, do you? If you find your brothers, you won't be goin' home with them."
His last words were a statement rather than a question, and it came to me that he'd seen the truth a lot sooner than I had. When I'd first come up with my plan I'd pictured myself returning home with one or both of my brothers, but the truth of the matter was I couldn't do that. Whether or not my father needed me to provide him with an heir, I still couldn't see him letting me ride away again. He'd insist that I be nailed down somewhere he considered safe, I would flatly refuse, we would argue again -
No, I certainly couldn't go back, which meant I had nowhere to go. I couldn't go home, couldn't return to my Company, couldn't rejoin my Fist… And trying to see Kylin again - if only to apologize - would be a real waste of time…
"How do you know I'm looking for my brothers?" I finally asked without turning. "I only mentioned that to your grandmother this morning."
"I heard you tellin' her," Reedin answered, casual dismissal in his tone. "If you wait for people to let you know what's goin' on, you never do find out. But you're wrong in thinkin' you don't have what else to do after the search. The Spirits say you have lots to do, and you won't be doin' it alone."
"I didn't know it was possible to eavesdrop on conversations with the mountain Spirits," I said, this time finding it necessary to turn and look at him. "Or was that a conversation you had yourself, without Folara being involved?"
"Naw, the Spirits won't talk to just anybody," he answered, a faint flush behind the tan of his face. "You have to be consecrated as a Voice, and that doesn't happen until your wild time is over. My gramma tried to find out about all those things you have to do and who you'll be doin' them with, but the Spirits just said it wasn't for her to know. Kaffa would be a part of it, but she needs you more than you need her. And you both need me."
He was trying very hard not to grin wide at that idea, but he liked it too well to be completely successful.
"Maybe what we'll need you for is an expendable decoy," I mused, wanting to see some of that reckless enjoyment disappear. "You know, someone to throw to the enemy to distract them, while the rest of us take them from the flank and rear. You probably won't survive our attack, but you will make it possible for us to win."
"A man can't ask for more than that," he replied, now showing faint amusement in the dark of his eyes. "Everybody ends up dyin' at one time or another, but not everybody gets to make his dyin' count. The Spirits'll care for me if I get taken, but I don't think it'll happen. I think I'm meant to do somethin' else."
"Like what?" I asked, annoyed with myself for being bothered by his answer. His attitude was the one all mountain fighters had, the belief that a single life was never more important than the life of the community. It was what made them such deadly adversaries, even beyond the high level of skill they had. That children were raised in the belief for it to be so strong in adults was only reasonable, but I hadn't enjoyed being lectured on the point by a boy.
"Oh, I have my suspicions about what I'm meant to do, but this isn't the time to discuss them," he said, his grin back and showing faintly. "We ought to get movin' again, and this time you'll be goin' first. We'll save my pony's nerves for when I have to lead, like at sundown and after dark. We could camp and make the inn after sunrise tomorrow, but campin' in the mountains isn't too smart these days. Not unless you have lots of company."
He turned and walked back to his horse then, leaving me no choice but to follow and remount Bloodsheen. I tried to decide what I would have preferred choosing instead, couldn't even understand the question let alone decide on an answer, then sighed and gave it up. Realizing I had nothing to look forward to in my life had disturbed me, but it wasn't a problem I had to consider on the spot. There was trouble in the mountains that I would be involved in, which meant that considering my future could turn out to be a waste of time. It would be smartest just to wait and see, and if I did get lucky I could worry about it then.
"Okay, now, you made it," Reedin's soft voice came from my right, almost as much relief in it as I felt. Bloodsheen stood trembling right behind me, and if I could have seen him in all that darkness I probably would have seen his eyes roll.
"Just bring the stallion straight ahead, toward that little bitty light floatin' there in the dark," Reedin went on, and I got the impression he was pointing. "That's where the inn is, and I'll be right behind you."
I heard very small sounds that had to mean Reedin had moved away, so I got a better grip on Bloodsheen's bridle and began to coax him forward again. The last stretch we'd negotiated had felt as if it were straight up, and the stretch hadn't been short. If it was considered usual in these parts to climb a mountain in the dark and on foot while dragging a distrusting war horse behind you, I was beginning to look forward to being down out of them again with only fanatical enemies to worry about.
The stone under our feet wasn't quite as smooth as I would have liked, but at least it was relatively level. That good part, however, was balanced by the heavier cold of the air, a dry, sharp cold that cut through the shirt I wore and dried my sweat into a thin sheet of crystal ice. The deep, smothering dark did its own bit to add to that piercing cold, but I couldn't bring myself to stop and dig out extra clothing. For all I knew there was nothing but empty air to either side of the trail I walked, and I really needed to get to a place I couldn't fall from simply by turning around.
The small smear of light I headed for took longer than reasonable to grow large enough to mean something, but after what felt like hours of walking it finally resolved itself into a lantern hanging on a stable door. To the left of the door, looking solid and steady, stood a good sized house that had to be the inn. I couldn't help but notice the lack of stable boys appearing at my approach, but that was probably just as well. Bloodsheen was a little too jumpy for me to hand him over to someone without worrying, so I simply led him into the stable and looked for an empty, solitary stall.
Reedin led his pony in only a couple of steps behind me, and it wasn't long before we had our mounts settled comfortably with filled oat bins. The stable was just enough warmer than the outer air that I could make my fingers bend without worrying that they would snap off. The boy saw me massaging my hand as I left Bloodsheen to his meal, and he showed what was becoming a usual grin.
"Lucky for us it's startin' to be spring," he observed, hanging his saddlebags over one shoulder the way I'd already done with mine. "If we'd tried the climb in winter, we would have had to go all the way around by the long route. Its bein' warm out let us take the shortcut."
"Last fall, we actually had a battle after first snow," I observed back, still rubbing my fingers. "Some of the Blades in my Company had wire-wrapped hilts instead of leather wrapped, but they were smart enough to get themselves gloves. The Zeranese fighters with wire hilts couldn't even manage cloth wrappings, and after the battle we found swords with layers of palm skin frozen to them. In one place we even found a couple of fingers, making us think they'd been ripped off when the weapon was knocked out of the fighter's grip."
I couldn't swear to the fact that Reedin's tan paled a little, but his grin definitely turned sickly before disappearing. He cleared his throat before gesturing me into following him outside again, and behind his back I came up with a grin of my own. That story I'd told him was one of the ones seasoned Blades told to green recruits, sort of as a welcome to the Company and the life of a Blade. I'd never actually seen the happening myself as I'd claimed, but that didn't matter. I'd seen other things, and Reedin was much better off learning his lesson about teasing from the story I had told.
We had to go back out in the cold for only a few steps worth, and then we were walking in the front door of the inn. The entrance area was rather narrow and short compared to lowland inns, but it still had a counter toward the back, a stairway to the right, and a middling big dining room through the doorway on the left. I'd expected to have to ring a bell or something to bring an innkeeper to the counter at this late an hour, but there was actually someone already there and waiting for us.
"Evenin'," the man greeted me, a faint smile on his weathered face. "Always nice to see the time of the year that brings visitors again. How's your family doin', Reedin?"
"Just fine, Tophin, just fine," the boy answered very politely, then turned to indicate me. "This here's a friend of Kaffa, comin' to visit by invitation. After we eat I'll need to borrow a fresh pony, to take the word up to the campin'. My gramma says the lady needs to get to Kaffa fast as she can."
"If Folara says it, it must be so," the man Tophin allowed with a nod and a wider smile. "But it could be a while before Kaffa gets free, so I'd better give the lady a room to use after she eats. What name would you like me to put down, lady?"
"Use the name Soft and Gentle," I said with a smile for his discretion. "It's the name Kaffa will recognize fastest, and shouldn't mean anything to one group at least. For the rest, not mentioning me to begin with will be the biggest favor."
"Never saw you come by here at all, lady," Tophin said with a headshake, closing the register he'd opened without putting anything in it. "Reedin, take the lady in and find a table to get comfortable at, and I'll see about sendin' a meal out for the two of you."
"Thanks, Tophin," Reedin said as the man gave me a final smile before limping toward a closed door behind the counter. "Come on, girl, the tables are this way."
I followed Reedin back to the doorway leading into the dining room, and after a single glance none of the half-dozen or so men in the room paid us the slightest attention. Once inside I was the one who chose a corner table away from the other guests, and Reedin collapsed into the chair next to me with a sigh.
"It does feel better in here with that fire goin' in the hearth," he admitted, setting his saddlebags down on the floor beside him. "The higher you go the colder it gets, and after we eat I'll be goin' higher. I'm glad gramma reminded me to bring some warm things."
"All I have with me that's warmer is leather," I said, removing my swordbelt and setting it against my own saddlebags before sitting down. "I brought my cold-weather clothes with me from the north, but spending time in the south made me forget them there. If I have to go much higher, Kaffa will have to thaw me out before we can talk."
"You can use my cloak if you need to," Reedin said with his usual grin, resting both forearms on the table as he leaned a little closer. "I'm responsible for you, remember, and I'd enjoy seein' you in my cloak."
"It's nice of you to offer," I returned with a smile, then gestured around us. "Can you tell me how an inn came to be built here, so high up in the mountains? I wouldn't have thought there were enough travelers coming by to make the location profitable."
"Oh, Tophin and his sons built this place, but not to make a lot of money," Reedin answered, leaning back a little to do his own looking around. "When Tophin was crippled in battle everybody thought he'd go back to his village to do what he could, but Tophin never really liked village life. He built this place instead and declared it truce territory, especially if any lowlanders happen to be around. You break the truce and Tophin takes care of it, or he'll bring his sons in if there's too many for him to handle. Nobody ever broke truce here and lived to tell about it, so lots of mountain folk like to come by and spend some quiet time while they enjoy Tophin's cookin'. Some day I might be almost as good as him."
"Now I'm really looking forward to the meal," I said, noticing a young girl making her way toward us from a back room. She carried a pitcher and two cups, and the scent of spiced brew came along with her.
"My father says to tell you that the first pitcher is a guest gift," the girl announced as she set everything down on our table. "The second pitcher don't have to be had t'night, though, so be easy and just enjoy. The food'll be out just as soon as it's done."
She smiled at me while drying her hands on her trousers, nodded to Reedin, then went back the way she'd come. As soon as she left I took the pitcher and filled a cup, then tasted the brew carefully. Kaffa had warned me years ago about mountain brew, and that was one time she hadn't been joking. The drink was spicy and tastier than anything I'd ever tried, but I could feel it going down all the way to my toes.
"I could have used this while we were climbing in the dark," I said, then took another small swallow. "And I have the feeling I won't have any trouble sleeping tonight."
"Most lowlanders take one taste then spit it out," Reedin said with a grin before reaching for the pitcher and the other cup. "I knew you wouldn't, though, 'cause you're more mountain than lowland. I knew it the first time I saw you."
By that time he had his cup of brew poured, and he raised it to me before taking a healthy swallow. Now, I've never been one to tell other people when or how to drink, and since he didn't immediately choke I assumed he had experience with that liquid lightning and was considered old enough to drink it by his people. In that, though, I proved to be only half right.
Our meal started coming a few minutes later with a very tasty fish salad, then some bread soup, and then one of the best stews I'd ever eaten. I had no idea what was in the stew, but after the first taste it didn't matter in the least. The bread was soft and complimented the stew, the butter was sweet, and the cups of water brought in the middle were fresh and cold. I balanced drinking the water with drinking the brew, but my companion seemed to be allergic to water. Reedin stayed only with the brew, and went two cups for every one of mine.
Dessert was a berry pie of some sort with thick cream piled on top of it, but I knew if I tried to finish it the way I wanted to I'd probably explode. Regretfully I settled for eating half of it, and was almost to my chosen end point when the silence that had held during the rest of the meal was abruptly ended.
"Kid stuff," Reedin muttered from his place to my left, and I looked up to see him glaring at his portion of dessert. "They gimme that 'cause they think I'm a kid."
"Not necessarily," I told his sudden anger, hoping to get him calmed down again. "They also gave it to me, and they can't think that I'm a kid."
"Yore a girl," he countered with even more slur in his voice, and the dark-eyed gaze he dragged over to me was definitely on the unfocussed side. "It's okay t'do that f'r girls, but I'm a man. Shouldn' oughta do that f'r men. An' you sure are a girl."
"Reedin, our meal is just about finished," I said, working to keep my face expressionless and my voice even. "A fighter knows when it's time to lay down and close his eyes for a while, and aren't you a fighter? As much as any other man in these mountains?"
"Sure am a fighter," he said with a lopsided version of his old grin, leaning a little closer to me. "I'll be startin' my wild time after this summer, doin' whatever I please. But right now what pleases me is a certain girl, a girl th' mountain Spirits 'r gonna give me for my own. You stir th' man in me, girl, an' I want you spendin' th' night with me, the first o' lots o' nights."
Those dark eyes were directly on my face, and all I could do was lean back with a defeated sigh. I'd known something like that was coming, but I'd been silly enough to believe that ignoring leading comments would keep it in control. I hadn't counted on Reedin's getting drunk, and now that he had, control was out of the question.
"Well?" he pursued, leaning even closer. "Ain'cha gonna give me yore agreement? We're alike, you an' me, an' you oughta know it just like I do. Th' Spirits 'r gonna give you to me anyhow, so why wait?"
"The Spirits aren't giving me to anybody," I finally answered in a growl, having had it up to here with people who wanted to plan the rest of my life for me. "I'm the only one who says who I'll go with and who I won't, and you're a definite won't no matter how friendly you are with the Spirits. And if you're not interested in getting some rest, I am."
I pushed my last plate away and began to get to my feet, understanding dimly that the relatively small amount of brew I'd swallowed was apparently affecting the hold I had on my temper. The best thing I could do was get out of harm's way before that harm settled on Reedin, which it wasn't far from doing. What he'd said was making it hard for me to remember he was actually still a boy, and skilled or not he also wasn't armed.
"Now, girl, don't you go gettin' all mad at me," the young idiot coaxed as he grabbed my arm, and young or not his grip was not that of a child. "Yore th' girl I been thinkin' 'bout ever since I started thinkin' 'bout girls, an' then there you was when I needed you most. Don' go thinkin' I cain't pleasure a woman, 'cause I surely can an' done it b'fore. Let's go find us a place, an' I'll show you 'zactly how it's done."
"Now look, you," I began in the same growl, finding the mad growing higher inside when I couldn't simply pull my arm out of his hand. In order to get loose I'd have to hurt him, and my reluctance to do that was fading rapidly. "You've got the space of five heartbeats to let go of me, and if you don't I'm going to break that hand. And maybe your neck along with it. Take your choice."
His grin was back as though I'd said something really funny and he parted his lips to speak, but someone else got their say in first.
"What're you doin' to that girl, young fighter?" a calm male voice asked, drawing both our attention. We looked up to see one of the men who had been sitting at another table, now standing unsmilingly beside ours. He wore brown boots and loose, baggy brown trousers, a faded red shirt and three daggers as well as a sword. His face was smooth-shaven but weathered, and his dark eyes were very cold.
"I ain't doin' nothin' that ain't my right," Reedin slurred, backing down only a little. "I got th' right t' -"
"You got the right to force that girl into killin' you?" the stranger demanded, his voice now less calm and more cold. "You miss the time when men get told it's only boys who try forcin' girls into things? That ain't no little sister you got your hand on, a girl-child who won't do more than bat your head with a throwin' stick. She carries steel so she must know how to use it, and how's she gonna feel come mornin', wakin' up and rememberin' she had to do for you? You really mean to put that on her?"
"You tryin' t'take 'er for yourself?" Reedin demanded, letting my arm go as he began rising to his feet, bolstered by belligerence. "That's it, ain't it? You want me outta th' way so's you can - "
Just as he made it upright, he discovered that the newcomer hadn't stayed in the spot where he'd been. The man had moved forward with the speed of an eyeblink, and was throwing a fist in the same way. The fist connected with Reedin's chin, Reedin began to collapse, and the stranger caught him and eased him back into his chair.
"Sorry about that," the man said to me, calm amusement on his face in place of the cold. "Thought I could talk him down without havin' to hit him, but that brew took him too far along the road. He'll learn better if he's meant to live, or he'll go too fast and end it if he isn't. And I didn't want you gettin' the wrong idea about the men in these mountains. We don't mind lettin' a woman know we can be had easy, but pushin' at her when she isn't interested doesn't sit right with us."
"Especially when she's carrying steel and knows how to use it?" I asked, still feeling faintly belligerent myself.
"That doesn't hurt any in teachin' a man manners," he allowed soberly, and then he grinned. "But no man worth his salt is goin' to let a little thing like that stop him, not if he knows the woman's interested. I hear lowlander women throw pots and things when they get riled. Mountain women throw blades, and a man had better be fast on his feet if he goes courtin', that and real polite. Can I interest you in sharin' a cup with me?"
"Thanks anyway, but I've already had too much of that brew," I said, suddenly more tired than looking for a fight. "And on top of not enough sleep, that makes me not very good company. If I don't want to go the way Reedin did, I'd better find my room. Uh, what about the boy?"
"No need to worry," the man assured me, his expression disappointed but resigned as he watched me get to my feet. "I'll ask about a spot to drop him on where he can sleep it off. If you should happen to change your mind, I'll be here till just before first light."
I found a smile to give him along with a nod, picked up my swordbelt and saddlebags, then went back out to the counter to look for the innkeeper Tophin. The young girl was behind the counter instead, and she cheerfully got a candle and a key and led me upstairs. The room she gave me was small, something I could see once she'd lit the room candle from the one she carried, but there was a bed and that was all that mattered. I dumped my saddlebags on a chair, locked the door, blew out the candle, then groped my way to the bed and lay down.
I was almost asleep when I realized that the room was too chilly to be comfortable, so I pulled off my boots and climbed under the quilt without opening my eyes. That was much better, and as I drifted off I realized that the mountain fighter who had helped me hadn't given me his name. I knew what that meant in the lowlands - that he was wanted by the King's Law - but up here in the mountains? Was it anything like the same?
I tried to think about it, but being comfortable and warm meant sleep refused to wait any longer.
By the time I woke up it was fully light, and I lay there feeling comfortable and rested while I considered what had happened the night before. For Folara's sake I hoped Reedin was all right, but I also hoped he had one smasher of a hangover. Five more minutes and he would have had a hell of a lot more than that - or less, if you want to be technical - and he deserved every twinge and -
I cursed with feeling as I struggled to sitting, suddenly remembering something that had slid right past me the night before. Reedin was supposed to have gone looking for Kaffa after we'd finished eating, but instead he'd taken an involuntary nap. Not that he would have been able to go even if he hadn't been knocked cold. As drunk as he'd been, he would have been more likely to fall off the side of the mountain than find Kaffa.
I creaked out of bed with only a little effort, wishing I'd taken my clothes off the way I'd taken off my boots, wishing I had something besides black leather to change into, wishing I could take a bath. While I was at it I decided to wish that Kaffa would come looking for me instead of me having to go searching for her, but that one wasn't going to work any more than the others. As soon as Reedin was back from the dead I would have to paste him to his pony, get him to name a direction, and then head us that way. I was sure one part of the direction would be up, but the trick would be in finding out the rest of it.
There was a pitcher of water in my room that I hadn't seen the night before, standing beside a basin and a cup. I filled the cup and then filled the basin, splashed my hands and face and neck until some of the fog began to lift, then dried off on a handy cloth before swallowing what was in the cup. Wetting myself down both inside and out seemed to help, so I stripped out of the clothes I'd slept in and put on my black leathers.
By the time I had my saddlebags repacked and my sword belted around me, I felt a good deal better. One of the reasons I hadn't been eager to wear my leathers was the trouble that too often came to female Blades, but here in the mountains I would be only one of a large number of female Blades. Mountain women were expected to be able to handle themselves, and my leathers might actually turn out to be a help.
Or so I was hoping as I made my way to the stairs leading down. I'd had a lot of luck until this point, but I'd need double or triple that before I was through. Chasing after an old friend in the hopes that she could help me, trying to find a trail at least half a decade old while giving my own help to the friend I chased… Things were starting to get complicated again, and that didn't even include the fact that I had no idea where I would go once the problems were over and done with. Did I want to take hire somewhere out of the country, or would it be more fun to stay right here and demand that the king let me fight in the trials that produced his Fighters? Up until now female Blades had always been … discouraged from competing for the place of King's Fighter, but what would happen if I insisted…?
"Mornin'," the girl behind the counter said with a smile as I paused to hand her my key. "Bet you slept real good last night."
"The inn could have been knocked down around me and I wouldn't have noticed," I admitted with something of a sheepish grin. "That brew of yours takes getting used to. And speaking of the brew, how is it treating Reedin this morning? Last night he didn't seem to be getting along with it too well."
"Still ain't," the girl said with a grin, gesturing over her shoulder. "We poured him into bed after you went upstairs, and he ain't doin' nothin' 'cept layin' there an' snorin'. Once he comes round an' feels his ears fallin' off while his eyeballs get stepped on, he oughta know he done real stupid. If he don't, no way he's gonna make it through his wild time."
"Great," I muttered, wondering if my arrow had hit the right target after all a couple of days earlier. If I'd shot Reedin instead of the big cat, I would not now be in the position of having to wait for him to wake up. Cats are usually smart enough not to overdo it, and if that one had known where Kaffa was… "I guess I might as well have breakfast while I'm waiting, just to save time. As soon as he's conscious again, he and I are leaving."
The girl told me what was being made for breakfast, I agreed that I'd find it worthwhile tasting as long as there wasn't any brew sent out with it, and then I paid for my lodging and food. Reedin's tab came to a lot less, and I paid that as well without worrying whether or not he'd want breakfast. The girl was willing to bet against his eating anything at all for the next two or three days, and I wasn't silly enough to bet against her.
Once all the necessary details were seen to, the girl went through the door behind the counter while I headed for the dining room. There were some travelers in there just finishing up their own breakfast, I'd been told, but not the ones who had been there the night before. Everyone who had stayed the night had already left, everyone, that is, but Reedin and me.
Growing annoyance tends to distract me, so I was at least three steps into the room before the two men in front of me registered as individuals. Their brown leather announced them as Fighters, of course, but I noted that automatically as I realized they were standing. That was when I saw the House colors on the left side of their tunics, the colors of my father's House…
I whirled with the intention of getting out of there before anything could happen that I would later regret, but it was already too late. Two other, larger figures had stepped between me and the door, and even as I saw them my hand reached for my hilt. I couldn't be caught, not when I was so close to finding out if my plan would work, I just couldn't be - !
"Just take it easy, girl," Traixe said in the most soothing voice he could manage, his mouth threatening to go dry at the way Sofaltis had started to draw on them. The look in her gray eyes was … distracted and almost feral, and if she did clear steel there would be bloodshed.
"We aren't here to hurt you, Sofaltis, you know that," Traixe went on slowly and carefully. "Lord Kylin wants to talk to you, and so do I. We don't want to fight with you, all we want is to talk."
Those gray eyes had been holding to his face with that same unsettling intensity, but when they shifted to Kylin they changed somehow, and suddenly there was nothing in their depths but weariness.
"You came a long way just for some conversation," she remarked, her hand finally falling away from her hilt. "If you felt it was that important, go ahead and get it said."
"Standing here in the middle of the floor?" Traixe asked with what he hoped came across as easy amusement. "Let's sit down like civilized folk with chai in front of us, and then we can talk all we please. Have you had breakfast?"
"I don't have the time for breakfast," she said, making no effort to move toward the table Traixe had begun turning to. "I should have been on my way before this, so if there's anything you want to discuss you'd better get to it fast. Without the trimmings."
"Sofaltis, I happen to know there isn't a single law anywhere demanding that bad situations always have to be made worse," Traixe said with a sigh that was half vexation. "You've always behaved as though there was such a law, but this isn't the time for indulging in the practice. You know what we have to talk about, so let's sit down like adults and get it taken care of."
"Like adults?" the girl countered, her expression changing to one of sour ridicule. "Adult, as in being allowed to make one's own decisions? You expect sitting down to manage that when everything else I've accomplished hasn't? Really, Traixe, it may be time for you to consider taking old-age retirement."
"With you around I don't expect to live long enough to reach old age!" Traixe came back with a growl as he straightened automatically in response to her attitude. "And you can save those high-handed airs of nobility for someone who doesn't know you the way I do. Are you going to sit down and talk to us or not?"
"Not," she answered with the faintest of smiles, the natural arrogance of a Blade glittering in her eyes. "And you've just wasted half the time I agreed to give you. Do you intend to continue being stubborn and doing the same with the rest?"
"Me stubborn!" Traixe was so outraged his voice began to rise through the register, an infallible sign that it was time for him to keep quiet while he regained control of his temper. He turned away from the girl with an inner snarl and stomped back and forth a few times, working hard to convince himself that killing her would defeat the purpose of their being here in the first place. She'd gotten unbelievably good at knocking others off-balance, which would be to her benefit in any resulting fight.
Not that Kylin would let me kill her, Traixe thought resentfully as he continued to move back and forth. Kylin had even forbidden getting into the fight she seemed to be trying to force, but all those flat-voiced orders had come very early this morning, when they'd entered the inn's stable to find the girl's war horse. They'd known then that risking their lives following that mountain trail in the dark had paid off, and the girl herself should still be at the inn.
Traixe had no idea how Kylin had managed to find her like that, but he knew better than to demand any answers. Members of the high nobility were required to answer to no one but the king, and usually grew annoyed with people who forgot that. When it was time for Traixe to know he would be told, but that didn't excuse the fact that after having given all those orders, Kylin now stood like a shy and retiring old maid, giving him no support whatsoever. To a certain extent he could understand how the young man felt, but -
"I think Traixe's problem is the same one we all have," Kylin said suddenly with warmth in his voice. "We didn't get any sleep at all last night, which makes standing up like this something of a chore. And if you leave now we'll just have to follow you again, and bother you a second time when you get wherever you're going. Wouldn't it be easier to sit down and talk to us now, just to get it out of the way?"
"That sounds reasonable," the girl agreed with a sober nod that Traixe didn't take seriously even for a single moment. "Or, of course, I could let you four keep following me until you drop. You're big, strong, independent men, after all, and supposedly able to take things like that in stride. You don't mind dropping in a good cause, do you?"
"Absolutely not," Kylin agreed with a grin when Traixe would have given the bit he spoke to a good piece of his mind. "Being willing to drop in a good cause is one of the unspoken requirements for being a King's Fighter - and, of course, for being a certain kind of suitor. I've always believed that if a girl isn't worth dropping for, she isn't worth marrying."
"Some girls aren't worth either thing," Sofaltis answered in a mutter that surprised Traixe as she looked away from Kylin. Her skin had darkened a little, and the arrogant challenge she'd been showing had disappeared as if by magic. "I've heard it said that another unspoken requirement for being a King's Fighter is finding enjoyment in pain, but I'd always considered that an attempt at insult rather than the truth. You wouldn't want to be remembered as someone who proved the lie, would you?"
"Giving up now would prove it beyond anyone's doubt," Kylin countered in that even, remorseless voice most people found impossible to argue with. He also moved a long stride closer to the girl, and when she looked up in startlement he was staring straight down into her eyes. "There's more involved here than matters of State and the plotting of traitors. The last thing you said to me was that you finally understood I'm not your enemy, and you have no idea how … unbelievably free that made me feel. If you'll give me half a chance, I'll do my damnedest to make you feel the same way."
"You can do that by going back to your breakfast, taking a room and getting some sleep, then riding out of the mountains again," she countered, this time meeting his gaze. "I don't need help with what I'm trying to do, at least not your help or Traixe's, and once it's over I'll give you the chance to say anything you like to me. No matter what it is."
"That's a very tempting promise," Kylin allowed, his voice now softer. "But it also sounds somewhat ominous, so I think I'll have to pass. There are a lot of things we haven't said to each other, and I'd like to get them said now. Will the entire kingdom fall if you give me a few minutes of your time?"
"You can never tell about these things," the impertinent bit answered with a too-innocent shrug, the discomfort she'd just been showing taking its turn at disappearing. "Kingdoms sometimes fall for the strangest reasons, and you of all people shouldn't be willing to take any chances. Anything we have to say to each other can wait, and then you'll probably find there isn't as much to cover as you thought. Have a safe trip back."
Traixe couldn't believe the little hellion was actually beginning to step around Kylin in an attempt to leave them behind again, but Kylin didn't waste any time wrestling with disbelief. His big hand reached out to close around her right arm, and then he was … "guiding" her toward the table containing the remnants of their meal.
"There's no chance of you having a safe trip or even a safe life, not until you find out everything that's happening around you," Kylin told her as he slid the saddlebags off her shoulder, then forced her into a chair. "Neither of us is leaving here until you know exactly who your enemy is and can appreciate how badly he wants you. We don't yet know why he wants you, but we're trying to find out. Are you going to sit there and listen, or do I have to knock you down and sit on you before I get your attention?"
"You intend parting with facts rather than opinions?" the girl asked in surprise, apparently swallowing whatever annoyance she'd been feeling at the handling she'd had. "If that's the case, then please do go on. If things get too complicated for my limited intelligence to cope with, I'll certainly stop you and say so."
"A little sarcasm goes a long way, girl," Traixe couldn't help pointing out as he reclaimed his own chair at the table. "It was your father and me who didn't feel right about burdening you like this, but Lord Kylin didn't agree. He did and does feel you have the right to know everything, so for once in your life just keep your mouth closed and listen."
If Traixe had had anyone to bet with, he would have bet against the girl listening to a word he'd said. Because of that - and the length of time he'd known her - he was very much surprised when she didn't say another word until Kylin had finished.
"So the bunch of you believe it's Nimram who's behind everything?" I finally asked, finding the story I'd just heard more than a little incredible. "Killing the crown prince and then the old king, stirring up riots all over the kingdom, secretly backing Prince Traffis's war - and having my brother killed? It's all because of him?"
"Don't forget trying to have you kidnapped as an item on that list you're making," Traixe said sourly while Kylin drank a cup of chai to wet his lecture-dry throat. "As Lord Kylin said earlier, we still don't know why he wants you, but he not only does, he also wants you unmarried. That also means, of course, that he wants your father without an heir, which both worries and reassures us. A man without an heir is always something to worry about, but without the proper heir your father's life should be safe for a while."
"Proper being defined as someone of Nimram's choosing," I said with a nod, glancing at Kylin. "That's who I thought he was for a while, someone chosen by our enemies who would take over as soon as my father was put out of the way. Well, what are you doing about all this besides getting hysterical?"
"Hysterical doesn't enter into it, young lady," Traixe came back with that I'd-enjoy-spilling-some-blood look in his dark eyes. "What we're doing is the only thing we can do: everything in our power to see you and Lord Kylin married. After that, most of our problems should be over."
"Oh, right," I agreed with another nod, reaching for my cup of chai. "Lord Kylin has Evon's guarantee that they won't send a brigade to run him over, or maybe just somebody who's very good with a longbow. If my father is seen to first, then I'm left as the new duke's widow. If he isn't, I'm right back to where I was when this first started. And if I prove to be too troublesome, that brigade can run over two as easily as one, and then they just wait a couple of years for the duke's next oldest daughter to reach marriageable age. She, at least, won't be a Blade. Yes, I can see I was wrong and you people haven't gotten hysterical at all."
"By Evon's sharpest hell, what do you expect us to do?" Traixe burst out as he struck the table with a fist, his tanned face having darkened. "Putting Lord Kylin down won't be as easy for them as you're making it out to be, and with the succession settled we can start looking around for something else to do to ruin Nimram's plans. If Prince Traffis loses as many men this year as he did last, next spring will find him holed up somewhere licking his wounds instead of tying up the King's fighting men. Then the Zeranese can be chased back where they came from, and - "
"And we can all live happily ever after," I finished for him, trying not to get mad. "Traixe, I hate crushing a child's most cherished fantasies, but I spent last year fighting Prince Traffis's troops while you stayed home with my father. Most of them are bought fighters, and as long as the gold is there they'll be there, too. The Zeranese are fighting for their king who is also a god in their eyes, and as long as he sends them to fight they'll keep coming, down to the last man if necessary. And if Prince Traffis is all that worried about fielding enough troops, why is he wasting manpower by sending mercenaries into the mountains here?"
"You know about that?" Kylin asked, beating Traixe to it by no more than a breath. "How far up have the mercenaries managed to get?"
"As far as I can tell, not very far," I answered after sipping at my chai. "Mountain villagers ought to teach their methods to lowland villagers. How do you know about the mercenaries?"
"We ran across a bunch of them," the big man replied with a shrug. "It wasn't hard to tell they weren't the only troop in the area, but something else we learned has been bothering me. They said they accepted hire with the blessings of Ramas."
"And they believed that?" I demanded, then waved a hand to withdraw the question. "Of course they believed it, otherwise they wouldn't have come within miles of any mountain fighters. But I still don't understand how they could have believed it. As a group, mercenaries aren't usually that gullible."
"It seems they were reassured by priests of Ramas," Kylin said, his light eyes now studying me. "You don't happen to know why they were given those reassurances, do you?"
"Prince Traffis obviously wants something in these mountains he thinks he can get," I said with a shrug of my own. "Personally I think he's kidding himself, but he might be picturing launching a secret offensive from here, taking the fighting out of the north and spreading it to the rest of the country. It would be a good way to create chaos and then spread it around, but I'd bet against the mountain fighters letting him get away with it."
"Since there are priests of Ramas involved, maybe it's Nimram who wants something," Traixe said slowly, his anger forgotten. "I wouldn't put it past that man to spread his evil into every corner available, even the camps of other gods. We're going to have to look around carefully before we leave, my lord, to make certain he won't be getting whatever it is he wants."
"I suggest leaving that to the mountain fighters," I said as I replaced my chai cup on the table and got ready to stand. "They don't like having strangers poking noses into their business, and they usually do something about any noses they run across. Tell my father I'm fine, and I'll be back in touch as soon as my chore is finished. May Evon be your shield and see you safely home again."
"Those are lovely sentiments, but you haven't eaten breakfast yet," Kylin said as his hand closed around my arm, keeping me from getting up. "The food on those platters that were brought you shouldn't be completely cold yet, so why don't you have some of it before it is? Then we can discuss just how far in we're going to poke our noses before we all leave for home."
"I have something to do before I leave," I reminded him, certain I was wasting my breath but needing to make the effort. "I listened to what you had to say, and now that I'm properly warned I'll be getting back to my original schedule. Let go of my arm."
"It's harder getting things done on an empty stomach," he pursued, still sounding no more than friendly and reasonable. "First you'll have your breakfast and then we'll have our discussion, and afterward we can talk about this chore of yours. If it's all that important, five should be able to see to it more thoroughly than one."
I leaned back in my chair as I stared at him, considering options and juggling possibilities in my mind. I'd known from the first that I'd never be able to just walk away from them, but exactly how much trouble I had depended on a number of variables. The biggest one was Kylin himself, who was obviously in charge of their group despite Traixe's presence. I hadn't intended getting down to details quite that soon - or with him sitting in a chair next to me - but if I let him know what I was doing his interest in hanging onto to me should wane quite a bit. If he decided to do something in an effort to stop me, I'd feel better about debating the point over sword blades…
"The chore I'm in the middle of is important, but once you hear what it is I'm sure you'll agree I'm best off doing it alone," I said, wishing he would use those blue-green eyes to look at something other than me. "My two missing brothers, the ones who can't be found… I happen to know they intended visiting these mountains before heading out to see the rest of the world. If I can find someone who remembers them, I may be able to trace them to wherever they went next. If I can find one or both of them… "
"You can bring them home to be your father's heir or heirs," Kylin finished when I didn't, his tone a good deal calmer than I'd been expecting. "It would put them in danger, but it would also ease the situation quite a lot. What I don't understand is what you expect to get out of that. I know you want to help your father, but you also have a reason of your own for making this effort. Would you like to tell me what it is?"
"I … suppose I have to," I answered, finding a perverse kind of comfort in the scowl Traixe sent me. At least somebody was reacting properly to what I'd been saying. "I … The marriage contract my father signed… It specifies that my husband will be named his heir. If that part of the contract can't be honored, the whole thing has to be voided. Then we can all get on with more important things."
"Do you really hate me so much that you'll do anything to avoid marrying me?" Kylin asked in a sad, quiet voice, refusing to be distracted by the idea of the more important things I'd dangled. "I know I'm not the best possible husband material ever offered to a woman, but am I really that bad?"
"You're not bad at all!" I blurted, looking back at him and away from Traixe's near apoplexy. "And I don't hate you. It wouldn't matter who my proposed husband was, I still wouldn't want to be married. It's the idea of marriage that I'm against, and you have nothing to do with it. Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?"
"It's hard to understand because it isn't usual," Kylin answered with a smile that chased the sadness out of his eyes, and then he took my hand. "But then, of course, you're not a usual woman. Are you sure it's not something about me that you object to? Are you sure that you don't already love someone else?"
"No, it's not something about you, and no, I don't love anyone else," I stated, trying very hard to make him believe me. For a moment he'd been very hurt, and he didn't deserve that. "If I ever decide to get married it will be my idea, not someone else's, and the choice of who I marry will also be mine. No matter how good their intentions, I won't have other people telling me what to do with my life."
"Then that's settled," he said, and unbelievably his smile had changed to a grin. "We'll do our damnedest to find your brothers, and while we're doing it I can show you that marriage isn't as bad as you're picturing it. Especially marriage to me."
I stared at his grin just long enough to be certain he wasn't simply joking, and then heavy annoyance began to take the place of the upset I'd been feeling. He wasn't joking, he was seriously determined, but from where I sat he didn't know the meaning of the word determined.
"You really should see if anything can be done about your hearing problem," I said after taking a breath of vexation, at the same time retrieving my hand from his grip. "I'll be looking for my brothers alone, and there's nothing at all I intend learning about marriage. If my search is successful there won't be a marriage, not to you or anyone else. I'll be the one who decides what gets done with the rest of my life."
"Don't you think you're making a few too many assumptions?" he countered, still looking friendly and calm - not to mention totally unworried. "You said 'if' you find your brothers, but what you're thinking is 'when.' You're expecting to find them, when the truth of the matter is that even if they did come through here, they could be anywhere in the world by now."
I parted my lips to argue his thrown-cold-water outlook, but he refused to let me interrupt.
"And even assuming you do find them," he plowed on, "that marriage contract doesn't have to be voided. If both parties agree that the part about your husband being named your father's heir must in all honor be deleted, only that part is void. If everyone is still willing the rest will stand without it, and you'll still have a wedding to attend. Very few things in life go exactly the way we want them to, Tisah, but just because they aren't exactly what we want doesn't make them bad. Sometimes if you bother to take a good look around, you find that they aren't half bad after all."
"And that part about your deciding on your own life is pure nonsense," Traixe put in while I stared bleakly at Kylin. "No one has absolute say over their lives, not the lowliest beggar and not even the king. If you don't marry you'll have to find some way to keep eating, and considering your training that way will involve selling your sword. Do you think your employer will consult your mood before sending you out to defend his property? If you're part of a Company, will your captain ask your opinion before ordering an attack? Even if that attack has only one chance in two of succeeding? How much say will you have over your life then, especially if your enemy sends most of his force through your position?"
"If even the king has to do things he doesn't want to - and believe me, I've seen it happen - what makes it so unfair for you to do the same?" Kylin took his turn again, this time sounding a little less friendly. "It's true I was asked if I was willing to marry you, but you're not silly enough to believe I could have said no? When one duke asks for you and another shows he wants you to agree, it doesn't matter that the second is your father and the first your prospective father-in-law. If you do happen to refuse and insist on sticking to the decision, whatever you have right then is most likely all you'll ever have. You'll never be able to support a family, for instance, and you'll never have to say no again because you'll never be given another opportunity. I think I did say I knew how you felt, but at the time you weren't hearing me."
"I heard you," I disagreed immediately, feeling the frown I suddenly wore. "At the time, though, I didn't believe you. So you're as much a victim of this mess as I am, but you decided it was smarter not to fight it. I won't judge your life for you by saying you took the easy way, but I will point out that you were given a choice. If I'm wrong for wanting the same choice, then I'll have to live with being wrong. Getting told I don't have a choice is something I refuse to accept."
Kylin and Traixe exchanged a frustrated glance, then Traixe sighed while Kylin ran a hand through his lightish hair. They seemed to have run out of counterarguments, but the condition proved only temporary.
"Sofaltis, there are times in life when we don't have the choices we should," Traixe offered, his broad face now looking more than weary. "If someone is limiting our choices with the intention of hurting us, then we have every right to resist with all our strength. But if it's love and concern that's limiting us, for no other reason than our well-being, we have to take that into account and give a little, possibly more than we would ordinarily be willing to do. We have to remember that the limiting is being done for our own good, and usually by people who can see more clearly than we can."
"Bullshit," I stated, deliberately almost smacking him with the word. "Love and concern aren't supposed to limit you, they're supposed to support you while you find your own limits. Having other people's limits imposed on you does nothing more than stunt your growth, since not everyone grows to the same dimensions. When you really want the best for someone you help them get what they want, not what you think they should want. Doing it the other way is nothing more than inexcusable selfishness."
"You can sit there and accuse your father of being selfish?" Traixe demanded, obviously working very hard to keep from losing his temper. "After his every thought and worry has been about you? After he agonized for unending days over your safety? After he went out of his way to choose the best he could as a husband for you? Have you any idea how he felt when the enemy took you, and he stood there helpless to stop them? Do you - "
"Bullshit I said, and bullshit I mean!" I interrupted with a shout of my own, leaning forward to glare at Traixe. "My father was so concerned about me, he didn't give a damn how I felt about the arrangements he'd made. My unhappiness bothered him so badly that he had me locked in my apartments, just to be sure I'd be there to do things his way! If that's your idea of love and concern, you and he can both go and - "
"That's enough!" Kylin added to the shouting with a roar, one that overrode Traixe and me together. "You're both right and you're both wrong, and we'll end the argument that way. We could spend the rest of our lives sitting here debating different points of view, but I seriously doubt we'd find an answer to satisfy everyone. And even beyond that, it doesn't happen to be our major concern."
Most of what he'd said had been directed to Traixe, but right after that his eyes were on me again.
"Normally I have more patience than this, but lack of sleep is obviously taking its toll," he said, and there was that … command quality in his voice that I'd noticed in the past. "Whether or not what was done to you was fair, it nevertheless was done. I was given a choice and you weren't, I chose to go along with the arrangement and you're fighting it. That's all behind us at this point, but one thing isn't: if you find no trace at all of your brothers, what do you intend to do then?"
The question was thrown straight at me without hesitation, but finding an answer to give wasn't quite as easy. What my father had done to me was wrong, but I hadn't yet decided whether I'd abandon him in his need. If he didn't have me to give him an heir he'd have to wait two or three years for Sella to be old enough, and during that time anything could happen. Especially with the war being waged by Prince Traffis and Nimram…
"If you try to walk away, the legal tangle will be absolutely hellish," Traixe said, and he'd lost the tone that said he was trying to "guide" me. "The duke will have an unfulfilled contract hanging over his head, and even if that disappears without problems, he still won't have an heir. Your sisters can't give him one, not when you're his eldest daughter and still living. The Law insists that only your husband can be named his heir, to save you from being callously passed over. If you can see a way around that, I'd like to hear what it is."
"The answer is simple," I said with a sigh, putting both hands over my eyes to rub them. "If I walk off the side of the mountain, everyone's off the hook."
I hadn't quite remembered that part about it not being legal to pass over me, but now that I did it made it more urgent than ever to find my brothers. Without at least one of them the door of the trap holding me would be nailed shut, and that would be the end of my life as I preferred it.
"So you'd rather commit suicide than find yourself married to me," a very flat voice stated, a voice that sounded tired beyond bearing. "I tried telling myself that that wasn't really the way you felt, that you were as attracted to me as I am to you, and only that misunderstanding we had kept you from admitting it. Well, there are no more misunderstandings left between us, are there?"
"Kylin, please," I began, feeling terrible as I took my hands away from my eyes, but I was wasting my breath. He had left his chair and was heading out of the room, no longer interested in hearing anything I had to say. Somehow I hadn't expected him to do that, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.
"Nice going," Traixe said, and I turned my head to see the disappointment in his dark eyes. "That man almost rode us all into the ground trying to catch up to you before the enemy did, and the first thing you do is make him feel as welcome as a case of skin rot. Unless Evon visits us with a miracle you'll probably still end up married to him, but it shouldn't be anything for you to worry about. I seriously doubt if he'll ever expect you to be the mother of his children."
Traixe rose then and gestured to the two Fighters who had been sitting at another table, and all three of them walked out without a single backward look. I'm sure the gesture was designed to make me feel guilty as hell, but I'd had too much uninterrupted thinking time to still feel anything of guilt. I wasn't the one who had made all those stupid rules my father and the others lived by, so I wasn't responsible for the problems they all now faced. If I helped my father it would be because I wanted to, not because everyone insisted I had to.
But that didn't mean I felt good about hurting Kylin. I'd known he didn't deserve being hurt even before I realized he was another victim of those mindless Laws, but I'd still managed to put my foot in it with him. Maybe if I waited until he'd had some sleep and then explained again why he had nothing to do with the way I felt -
"Damn!" I snarled under my breath, shoving at the table with one hand as I said a few other words that weren't quite as mild as the first. I couldn't afford the time to sit around waiting for Kylin to get his rest, not when Kaffa needed me to reach her as quickly as possible. Whatever was going on in these mountains had to relate to the story Kylin had told me, and therefore had to be stopped before it got out of hand. Or before it reached whatever objective it was supposed to reach.
My saddlebags were on the floor next to my chair, so I picked them up before I stood. The sword-slot on my chair made no effort to snag my scabbard as some slotted chairs did - not surprising, considering where I was - which let me head straight out to the small entrance area. I'd find out what room Kylin was in, spend a few minutes talking to him, then I'd be on my way.
The area behind the counter was empty, and I began to move closer to knock on it when the outer door opened behind me. I turned to see four mountain fighters entering, three men and a woman. The men wore brown trousers and boots and light green shirts, the woman dark gold trousers and dark green shirt with brown boots, all four of them armed with sword and dagger. They stopped somewhat short when they saw me, and the woman tossed a head of black ringlets.
"I knew I smelled somethin' rotten in here," she said with a sneer, looking me up and down. "A lowlander in the mountains is as welcome as a slime worm in bed linen, and I'm for gettin' rid of the stink. Let's see if it knows which end of that blade to hold."
The three men with her were looking amused, but they lost the amusement when she reached slowly for her hilt…
Kylin sat on his bed pulling his boots off when the knock came at his door, and he felt fairly certain he knew who it was. When he called out his permission to enter and Traixe appeared, he nodded with satisfaction.
"I thought you might stop by before going to your own room," he told Traixe, watching as the door was closed on the two Fighters in the hall. "I'm glad we took these rooms as soon as we got here, otherwise I'd still be looking forward to the relief of taking off these boots."
"Is that why you left your door unlocked?" Traixe asked, folding his arms as he looked down at Kylin. "Or were you hoping for a different visitor, one who was shamed into coming up to apologize to you?"
"So you did follow my lead again," Kylin said with a smile, rising to walk over to clap Traixe on the shoulder. "Now you're feeling guilty because you believe we're ganging up on her, and causing her as much hurt as she thinks she's causing me."
"Well, aren't we?" Traixe demanded, keeping his voice down with effort. "You saw the way she looked at you, the way she assured you it wasn't hate she felt. She's well on the way to being in love with you, my lord, and you're taking advantage of that."
"Damn straight I'm taking advantage of it," Kylin responded immediately, and then he grinned. "I couldn't bring myself to hope she would feel like that, and when I finally saw that she did I wanted to whoop like a savage and dance around like a madman. You can congratulate me later on the self control I showed."
"Self control, my lord, or cold calculation?" Traixe persisted, sharing none of Kylin's amusement. "You began by insisting that we be honest with her, and ended with ordering me not to mention the one fact she has every right to know. We both referred to 'when' she would be married to you, and made no mention of the fact that she already was."
"Traixe, man, you still don't really understand," Kylin said, and his amusement had changed to sadness. "Let's both sit down, and I'll try to make it clearer for you."
Kylin turned to walk back to the bed, but could still feel the other man's brief hesitation before he directed himself toward the chair. Traixe wasn't a stupid man, far from it, but he was so wrapped up in wanting the duke's problems to be settled that he was missing the forest for the trees.
"Now, let's start by keeping firmly in mind what sort of woman Tisah is," Kylin began once he and Traixe were settled in their respective places. "By Law she's my wife, bound to obey me in all things, required to go where I go, stay where I stay, leave when I leave. I could have given her formal notice of that while we were talking, and then ordered her to accompany me to my room while I got the sleep all four of us need so badly. Bearing in mind the fact that the Law is absolutely firm and clear on what her duty would then be, where would I have found her when I woke up?"
Traixe parted his lips to answer, found no words coming out, tried again, then ground his teeth together. The dark-haired Fighter was having something of a problem, and Kylin was careful not to smile.
"What you want to say is that she would obey the Law as honor requires a follower of Evon to do," Kylin offered when nothing but silence continued to come from his companion. "You can't bear the thought of her being anything but honorable, but in your heart you know she would turn around and walk away. What you're missing is the point that that would be honorable, in her own eyes if no one else's."
"Honor doesn't come in individual doses," Traixe said very flatly, one big hand covering his eyes as he bent forward a little. "If what you're doing really is honorable, everyone can see it. So you kept the truth from her to save her from dishonor."
"Traixe, if we run into attackers on the way back to Gensea, are you going to just stand there and let them cut you down?" Kylin asked with a sigh. "Don't forget how much better with a sword you're likely to be. If you draw steel you'll certainly kill them, and using greater ability to take the lives of others is dishonorable in everyone's eyes. Will you therefore just stand there and let them end you?"
"My lord, I don't understand what point you're trying to make," Traixe answered with an edge to his voice, still not looking up. "If a man is attacked he's entitled to defend himself, and that no matter how skilled he happens to be. If he's unskilled his attackers will win, if he's highly skilled he'll win. It's a chance attackers have to take when they decide on attack in the first place."
"But what if the attackers were used to winning?" Kylin pressed, leaning forward a bit. "What if they won every time they attacked, and only after years of winning they chose you and me as victims? How would they feel when we began to fight back?"
"The ones who were still able to feel anything?" Traixe said with a humorless smile, finally looking at Kylin again. "If they weren't shocked speechless and motionless, they would probably tell us we weren't being fair. That we ought to stand there like proper victims and let them cut us - "
"Exactly," Kylin said with satisfaction when Traixe's words abruptly ended. "All of us were too used to good little victims, and when Tisah tried to defend herself we were shocked. She was supposed to hand over her life without argument, and when she didn't we accused her of being dishonorable. If defending your life from attack is dishonorable for her, then it has to be the same for the rest of us."
"But, my lord - I'm even more confused now than I was," Traixe protested, his dark eyes very troubled. "If what she's doing is right, then we're the ones behaving dishonorably. And what about what you said on the journey here? You said she has to learn not to expect to get her own way all the time, that she has to unlearn some of what she's been taught all her life. Now you're saying - "
"Traixe, you're not the only one who's floundering in confusion," Kylin interrupted, knowing he now looked bleak. "She's not the first woman wronged by circumstance and certainly won't be the last, but every time I put myself in her place I feel this … monstrous urge to fight and fight until no one is left to face. She's right to defend herself, but if she wins then I lose. She and I may be married, but if she rides away and never looks back, what good will being married to her do me? Do I ride after her and drag her back, then keep her chained to save the trouble of having to do it a dozen times again? What kind of life would that be?"
"Then what will you do?" Traixe asked, the words soft - most likely so the pity in them would be hidden. "Do you think making her feel sorry for you will change her mind about the rest?"
"If she ever turned out to be that cooperative, the shock would probably kill me," Kylin answered dryly, massaging his neck with one hand. "No, all I'm doing is playing for time, hoping something will happen or some brilliant idea will come to me. I refuse to give her up, but maybe the only way of keeping her is to drive her away."
"Is that supposed to mean something?" Traixe asked, the confusion obviously back with him again.
"At this point I'm too tired to know," Kylin admitted, fighting with a giant yawn. "Why don't we get some sleep, and hope we still have someone to take advantage of when we wake up again?"
The older Fighter nodded distractedly as he stood, let Kylin walk him to the door, then said good night despite its being practically in the middle of the day. Kylin locked the door, blew out the lamp and then lay down, intending to think about what he would say to Tisah if she actually came to him. He thought about it a good dozen heartbeats, and then his thoughts faded into sleep too long denied.
The three men behind the female mountain fighter were looking upset as she reached for her hilt, but I tossed my saddlebags aside and put my fists on my hips.
"If you're going to draw that thing, we'll all be better off if you do it outside," I said in a drawl. "That way it'll only be your own foot in danger of being cut off."
"Are you sayin' I don't know how to use a sword?" she demanded, a heavy scowl twisting her otherwise pretty features. "I can best anybody in this room, and that means you!"
"Well, I can best anybody in this whole building, and that goes double for you," I returned, giving her my nastiest grin. "If you think you can take me, you just step right up to that line."
"Okay, I'm steppin' up to the line," she said, moving two big steps toward me as I also moved forward. The three men behind her had stopped looking upset, and instead seemed to be looking for the line we were talking about. "Now what are you goin' to do?"
"Now I'm going to find my sword," I pronounced, reaching across with my right hand and groping around. "It's right here somewhere, I know it is…"
"Well, at least I know where mine is," she said with ridicule, also reaching across herself. "It's right … right … somewhere … "
At that point our eyes met, and then neither of us could hold back the laughter any longer. We howled like a couple of maniacs while we hugged and pounded each other on the back, and then Kaffa turned with me toward the three men she'd come in with.
"Millof, Himdor, and Similtain, I'd like you to meet Soft and Gentle, the truest, steadiest friend a fighter could ever find," she said with her arm still around me and a grin on her face. "That little do you saw us goin' through was how we met in a night house, after we'd swallowed just a little too much of some real good brew. We were downright eager to face each other, so we staggered out to the fightin' line at the back of the house, started to do it - and only then found out our friends had taken our swordbelts without our noticin'."
"That got us both mad," I picked up the narrative with a chuckle, "so we decided to go back into the house and challenge every one those sneaks who had done that to us. Our determination lasted until we reached the first servant offering more brew, and then we decided to wet our throats a little more before taking vengeance. We got to talking over those cups and the ones that came after them, and then the evening ended for us the blurry way."
"But once we came out of the fog, we looked each other up again," Kaffa resumed, examining me fondly. "We each thought the other might still want a fight, and honor demands that you make yourself available at a time like that. But I found out Softy here was a member of a Fist, and she found out I'd been invited to join one, and we both discovered we couldn't remember what had started our argument. So we went out for only a couple of brews, and by the time we parted we were friends."
"Even though not everybody liked the idea," I added, coming up with that nasty grin again. "We both knew people who thought we shouldn't be associating with each other, and we had some fun times showing them all what a good team we made."
"And hopefully we'll be makin' the same good team again," Kaffa said as she looked at me, but most of the amusement was now gone from her. "We've got big trouble here, sister, and I give thanks to the mountain Spirits for bringin' you to me when we need every blade we can count on. We've got a battle to fight, and winnin' isn't goin' to be easy."
"I think you know you can count me in," I said, matching her sobriety. "We owe each other at least that, but there's something I don't understand. The young fighter who was supposed to go looking for you had a small … incident last night, and never even made it out the door. Did you use magic to find out I was here?"
"Yeah, magic named Tophin," she answered with a laugh. "When you gave him a name to register you by and said you'd come to see me, he sent one of his people out right away instead of waitin' for that boy to stir himself. I'd intended bein' here today anyway, but that's part of the story. Let's find a table and some chai, and I'll start tellin' it to you while we wait for the others."
I retrieved my saddlebags again and joined them in returning to the dining room, but I began to be seriously worried. If Kaffa was drinking chai instead of brew, the situation had to be really bleak.
The five of us chose a clean table and sat, and one of the two young boys clearing my former table stopped what he was doing to dash out for a large pitcher of chai and five cups, which he brought to us using a balancing act we all admired. He was back to his previous job even before we had our cups filled, which let Kaffa get back to serious business without distraction.
"Softy … Millof, Himdor, and Similtain here are the leaders of clan fighters to the south and west," she said after sipping her chai. "I stand as leader of Aimisse's fighters, and four other clan leaders are on their way. We've also got two other Spirit Voices sendin' their fighter leaders, and if we can get everybody to agree, we should have a fair-sized force. After that, we're goin' to need a better than fair attack plan."
Kaffa brooded down into her chai cup for a moment, seeing distant sights, and then she shook her head.
"There are some details I can't go into right now, but our main trouble is that a certain part of the northern reaches has been taken by outlanders," she said in what was almost a monotone. "It was done before any of us knew it was happenin', and the folk of the nearby village were either killed or taken. When the northern clans tried takin' it back they were not only held off, they got thrown back so badly they lost almost half their force. When the invaders tried followin' to sew up their victory it was our turn to do some wipin' out, but the clans didn't have enough fighters left to make it decisive, and the invaders withdrew fast enough to save most of their force. The area's been under patrol ever since so not many of them have gotten out, but we also haven't been able to get in."
"Something doesn't sound quite right about what you just told me," I said slowly, staring at her while my mind groped around for answers. "If the invaders, who were strangers, were able to take the village and the area from natives of the place, then other natives should have been able to take it back with only a small amount of trouble. If the area is so well fortified that the clan fighters got nowhere in their attack, how did the invaders take it to begin with?"
"And why didn't anyone know there was that large a force in the mountains," Kaffa added, as though she felt bound to help me with my arguments. "I asked those same questions myself, only with a little more force and not quite as politely. It was Aimisse who finally got the answers, and even he had to work for them. The Spirits didn't want to admit it, but the invaders are bein' protected by some sort of … force. If they get too far away from the force we can take them, but while they have its strength and protection?"
She shook her head again with frustrated defeat, a sharp movement that caused the three men at the table to stir. There was a look in the three pairs of dark eyes that suggested rebellion or disbelief, but since none of them seemed prepared to put those feelings into words I hopped in with some of my own.
"What kind of force can they possibly be talking about?" I demanded, outrage almost making me spill my chai. "I don't believe in magic, at least not the kind that you wave a wand to produce, and that's what all this sounds like. Are you sure your Spirits are telling you everything?"
"The Spirits never tell us everythin'," Kaffa returned sourly. "That's one of the reasons I'm in no hurry for Aimisse to decide he's had enough. But that's not the problem. There is somethin' there, somethin' the Spirits as much as admit they can't help us with, and for them to admit that much - " She shook her head for the third time. "We're in for it but good, and we don't know what the hell to do."
"Maybe … maybe you're just looking at it from the wrong angle," I offered, still trying to make sense out of everything I'd heard. "Those people had to have come into the mountains for a reason, and their attempts at reinforcement seem to be too casual for that reason to be serious invasion. Do you have any idea why they are here? Is there anything in the area they've taken that could have influenced their decision to make it there rather than somewhere else?"
"What makes you think their attempts at reinforcement are casual?" Kaffa demanded, her brows raised in surprise. "From the reports I've heard there are mercenary groups all through the mountains, many of them tryin' to make their way higher. We've seen to it that they haven't had much luck, but they're still tryin'. You see that as casual?"
"If you were the one trying to get those mercenaries up to the main group to reinforce it, would you split them up into tiny units each acting on its own?" I countered. "I've never visited these mountains before, but I think I would still know enough to keep my forces together and move them together. With enough scouts out to the van and flanks to make sure I wasn't moving them into an ambush. That way I should have something of a chance to get most of them where I wanted them, but that's not what's being done."
"Well, you're right about that," she grudged, "but I still haven't heard how you know. Did you see it yourself, or did somebody tell you?"
"One of each," I said after a swallow of chai. "I was in a village lower down when a small group of mercenaries tried to take it over, and most of them didn't live long enough to understand how mindless they were being. Then some … friends of mine caught up to me here, and told me about an incident they'd been involved in. It seems the priests of Ramas are telling the mercenaries it's perfectly all right for them to take hire against you."
That bit of information brought out exclamations from all four of them, one of the men muttering phrases that were a little more than that. Kaffa looked as confused at hearing the news as I'd felt, and after a moment returned her attention to me.
"We were wonderin' why they were all here, and now I guess we know," she said, running a hand through her dark ringlets. "The others won't like it when they hear, but there isn't anythin' we can do about it now. But somethin' else you said brings to mind a few questions: did you just happen to show up when I needed you, or are you here for a reason of your own? And who are these … friends you mentioned, and why the hesitation before usin' the word? You have trouble I don't know about yet?"
"Almost as much as you do," I admitted with a very humorless smile. "The people behind your invasion force are probably the same ones who have given me and my family so much grief, which means I'm on your side even more than you know. The reason I came looking for you is more personal, though, because I'm trying to track two of my brothers. They should have come through the mountains about half a decade ago, and if I can pick up their trail it might help me out of the bind I'm in."
"I think I want to hear the rest of the story," she decided, then drained her cup before standing. "Excuse us for a short time, brothers, while my sister and I take a walk. If the others arrive before I get back, I'll appreciate your sendin' somebody after me."
Two of the men nodded pleasantly while the third gestured in the same way, so I got to my feet and followed Kaffa out, leaving my saddlebags by the chair. I'd be able to retrieve them once I went back inside, and in the meantime they would be safe where they were.
"By the way, don't go thinkin' those three are unfriendly because they didn't say anythin' to you," Kaffa informed me once we had left the inn. The sun shone bright off the rock all around, but the air was still on the cool side. "Since they came to convene, they aren't free to speak to a strange female unless they have no interest in her at all. If they do feel interest, they have to keep silent until the convenin' is done and behind them. Then they can say anythin' they like."
"Is that supposed to keep them from being distracted?" I asked, and whatever my expression was like immediately made her grin. "I never realized your men were that easily distracted."
"They're not, really, but they like keepin' up the pretense of bein' hot-blooded and lusty," she said with a laugh. "The theory behind the custom is supposed to go like this: if they speak to the woman because she interests them and she returns the interest, they won't be able to concentrate on anythin' but her gorgeous desirability. If they speak to her and she doesn't return the interest, they'll be so disappointed over losin' such a marvel, they won't be able to concentrate either. The men say they follow the custom because women want them to, and there may be some truth to that."
"It sounds like a fun game," I said with a laugh of my own. "How long do they keep it up after they have a woman hooked with the line?"
"The day a man stops bein' courtly is the day he starts bein' lonely," Kaffa answered, stopping short to turn and study me. "You really do have somethin' botherin' you, sister, and I don't like what it's doin' to you. Back durin' our days together you would have said somethin' funny about three men findin' you of interest, and then you would have asked if I knew whether they were any good. Now all you're talkin' about is gettin' hooked by somebody feedin' you a line. What's goin' on?"
I hesitated very briefly but then it all started to come out, all the details I'd always been able to share with Kaffa. She'd always been a prankster with a terrible sense of humor, but she would have died under torture rather than betray a confidence. We wandered around aimlessly while I talked, the bare gray rock making me feel worse despite the sunshine, my narrative interrupted only occasionally by a question. When I finally got the last of it said she sighed, then stretched out on a flat-topped boulder to stare down over its far edge.
"I heard somethin' once about you bein' the daughter of a duke," she told the empty air, speaking slowly and carefully. "There were a few other female Blades around at the time, and some of them didn't believe it was true while the rest wished it could be true about them. I decided that if it was true I felt sorry for you, because those with titles always have to run the lives of the people around them. It works the same way here in the mountains, but those who don't know anybody with a title can't understand that."
"Does that mean you think I ought to give up because there's no hope, or are you just sharing my mood before coming up with a suggestion I can use?" I asked the question morosely, beginning to feel really low. I couldn't ever remember seeing Kaffa so somber, especially not when a friend of hers had a problem.
"It means you're twisted so tight in this you'll probably never get loose," she said, turning to her right side with her left hand on her scabbard, her eyes no longer avoiding mine. "Even if your father agreed to let you go, what about those enemies you say are after your hide? You've been givin' them the one-finger salute, but what happens if they get their hands on you and you can't do it again? You don't know what they're plannin', so what if it turns out to be somethin' they can get away with just by havin' you and it does harm to your father? How are you goin' to feel then about not doin' like he asked?"
Her dark eyes bored into me, demanding an answer to one of the questions I'd managed to avoid asking myself. I'd refused to even consider the possibility that my playing a solitary game might cause my father hurt, but there was a chance of it happening. It depended on my being recaptured, though, and I'd been keeping very alert to make sure I wasn't surprised.
"You're not all that easy to sneak up on, so maybe you'll get away with that part of it," she allowed after reading my expression the way she always used to. "You put your father off, you avoid your enemies, and then you find your brothers and send them home. Everybody's set and happy - all except you. Since you still won't know what your enemies want you for, you won't be able to relax. You know your father won't give up the idea of marryin' you off, so you won't be able to go home. You could leave the country, but then you won't be there if your family should need you. You lookin' forward to livin' in a cave somewhere?"
"Better than that," I answered, glad to have at least one counterargument. "When I found out who the enemy really is, I knew exactly what my next move should be. Instead of sitting around waiting for His Holiness Nimram I to have us knifed in the back, I'm going after him. Once he's left floating in a pool of his own blood, the pressure should ease up considerably."
"That's a good idea," she agreed, nodding thoughtfully as she slid herself back to my end of the boulder. "Even if he's bein' guarded, you should be able to figure a way of reachin' him. Preferably before any of his people trip over you, and give him a present he wasn't expectin'. So you take him out, the war ends, everybody's happy and safe - and then what? You take off for parts unknown, or do you go callin' on this Kylin, who … 'isn't all that bad'?"
"Stop looking at me like that," I grumbled, feeling the weight of her upward-turned eyes even though I happened to be inspecting the soaring heights of the mountains above us. "Just because I don't want to marry him doesn't mean I want to avoid him entirely. For a King's Fighter he isn't bad, but I doubt if I'll be calling on him afterward. Right now he thinks I hate him, and by the time this is all over he probably won't even remember who I am. Or won't want to remember."
"Damn it, Softy, you grow older but you never grow up," she growled suddenly, standing up to glare at me eye to eye. "That's why playin' jokes on you in the Company was always so hard. You always lived for now, never tomorrow or a decade from now, only now. Take care of now, and later will take care of itself. Maybe it's the only way to be when you're fightin' a battle, but life ain't a battle and you can't go driftin' through it without thinkin' about what happens next! Floatin' may get you past a few jokes people set up for you to fall over, but it don't do nothin' to give you a direction and satisfaction! You understand what I'm sayin'?"
"No," I admitted without hesitation, also not understanding why her accent was thickening up. "You're making it sound as though I've never bothered to make a single plan in my entire life, and that doesn't happen to be so. I've made lots of plans, and if one of them didn't work I came up with something else. That's not my idea of floating."
"So if one of your plans didn't work, you came up with somethin' else," she said, looking totally unimpressed as she folded her arms. "You didn't find it necessary to prepare a backup plan before you tried the first, but that's not your idea of floatin'. What were you goin' to do if you offered to be your father's heir and he turned you down - just like he did?"
"Why, I would have - " I began, starting to say I would have gone back to my Company, but I'd already resigned from the Company.
"What were you goin' to do if you couldn't get away from your father's castle?" she pursued, nodding slightly at the way I hadn't finished speaking. "What are you goin' to do if you can't find your brothers? And what are you goin' to do if you can't reach that Nimram? You don't have a single backup plan for failure, and even worse, you don't know what you're goin' to do if you win! Do you even know what you want to do - or only what you don't?"
I turned away from her and stalked a few steps off, trying to understand why Kaffa was talking to me like that. When we'd been in the Company together we'd been two of a kind, but now -
"Sister, I'm not sayin' all that just to make you feel bad," her voice came after me even though she didn't. "I'm tryin' to help you see things the way I see them, so you'll understand what the real problem is. Solvin' half a problem won't make it all disappear."
I stared at the back of the inn, situated on part of the large shelf just a short distance below where we stood. The air around us was fresh and warming, but somehow I knew it would never get warm enough for true comfort. I examined the weathered red paint of the building for another moment, then turned back to Kaffa.
"What's so wrong about living for right now?" I asked, really needing to know. "I was happy being a Blade in a Sword Company and a member of a Fist. All my friends and Fistmates lived only for the moment, and we were all happy. Then everyone in sight began to come up with plans for the future, and I don't even remember what happiness is anymore! If I go back to my Company and my father finds out, he'll probably get mad and ask the king to disband it. If I try going back to Rull and the others, Rull will keep at me about marrying him. If I disappear somewhere my father will be left without an heir - and I'll have to spend my life watching my back. If I think about the future - Hell, that's even worse, especially since I don't know what I want. All I wish is that everything could be just the way it was when I was happy, but it'll never be that way again."
By that time I was close to whispering, the tears in my eyes helping to close up my throat. During the last weeks things had been moving too fast for me to have the time to feel sorry for myself, but I'd made the mistake of slowing down and now was in the midst of paying for it.
"Now, now, don't you go feelin' the best is all behind you," Kaffa said, suddenly right there with her arms around me. "That's the worst part of livin' for nothin' but right now: you never learn how to look forward to somethin' good. And when you take your eyes off the moment you're standin' on so you can look around, you'll find somethin' good to look forward to."
"Like what?" I asked hoarsely, brushing at my eyes with the back of my hand while feeling like a small child. "The next tenth-of-a-decade celebration parade? A new pair of boots? Possibly even a trip to a big city? Everyone keeps making plans for my life, and then condescends to tell me about them. How can I know what I want to do with my life? All my considering time has been taken up with refusing what I don't want."
"All those things you don't want," she mused, keeping one arm around me while she looked thoughtful. "Did you ever try to figure out how much you really don't want, and how much you don't want only because someone else wants it for you?"
"Well, I'm fairly sure I don't want to be captured and taken to Nimram," I answered, realizing wearily that Kaffa was trying to make another point. "Of course I could be jumping to conclusions about that. For all I know he wants to set me on the throne in place of the king, which might not be a bad idea at all."
"Oh, sure," Kaffa said with a nod and a grimace. "All this kingdom needs is a ruler who can't see beyond the end of her nose, but who's always ready to make bad jokes. You didn't like my question, so you decided to be funny instead of tryin' to answer it anyway. Since that's so, let's try a different question: what would you have done if your father had accepted you as his heir?"
"I would have started to act like his heir?" I ventured, seriously doubting that so obvious an answer could possibly be right. "Now, I realize I'm probably missing half a dozen very important plans I should have made before I even brought up the point to him, but the general one I just mentioned should have covered the others by virtue of its very broadness."
"Ah admire yore vocabulary, Ah surely do," she drawled, this time thickening her accent on purpose. "We backwoods mountain folk allus love hearin' th' edicated tones uv our betters. And now that you got all that out of your system, why don't you tell me what actin' like a duke's heir entails."
"Well, one of the things you get to do is have your House Guard take wiseasses and throw them in the dungeons," I drawled back, folding my arms as I gave her a very bright smile. "Ducal heirs don't have to stand around letting people insult them."
"Sounds handy," she allowed in a very … neutral way. "And what do they do when they're not havin' folk thrown into small, dark cells?"
"Oh, the usual," I said with a shrug. "Studying the finances of the duchy and learning how to keep the books, checking production figures and taxes, learning how to send help where it's needed, as well as sharp reminders to those who have been helping themselves. Then there's the coordinating of everything with the city, meetings with the council, adjusting old rules or coming up with new ones, keeping the lesser nobility happy without letting them do harm to the people on their land, things like that. Deadly dull and boring beyond belief, but unfortunately necessary if you want a thriving duchy."
"And the feasts and celebrations don't do much to balance that out, not when you spend the time thinkin' about how much they cost," she said with another thoughtful nod. "Borin' days and expensive bashes at night, and everybody always after you to make decisions. And no sneakin' off to down a few brews with friends. Dukes and their heirs don't get to do that, not unless they don't give a damn what happens to the duchy."
I frowned at the picture she'd drawn, wondering why I'd never seen it like that before. It was exactly the way my father lived, and the way his heir would live. Loaded down with duties and obligations, and rarely if ever having the time for any fun.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Kaffa said, her dark eyes back to studying me closely. "If you were your father's heir, you'd have to do somethin' about gettin' heirs of your own. How would you go about doin' that?"
I could feel my lips opening, but not because I had something to say. The only way to produce legitimate heirs is to marry, and the only way for a woman to produce heirs is -
"I guess you never thought about that part of it either," Kaffa commented, still studying me. "But if you were heir, you'd at least get to say who your husband would be. Wouldn't you?"
"No," I responded with a deep sigh, owing her, at the very least, an honest answer. As a child I'd once overheard my father talking to my mother, the conversation centering around who would make the best match for my oldest brother when he reached marriageable age. He was my father's heir, after all, and the right match would bring my brother - and the duchy - all sorts of benefits. My mother had known most of the families involved, and had paid close attention to what the eligible girls were like…
"So, maybe now we can see somethin' ahead to look forward to," Kaffa said with an odd smile. "The thing bein', of course, that you don't have to be your father's heir, gettin' all sorts of stuff dumped on you that you weren't expectin'. If that's not happy, it sure as hell ought to be relief."
I hesitated a very long moment and then said, "Kaffa, why didn't I see all that for myself? I've never had any trouble following battle plans no matter how complex they were, and usually understood where the strike was headed even before getting to the final troop positions. So why haven't I made the least attempt to do the same thing with my life? What's wrong with me?"
"There's nothin' wrong with you," she stated in so flat a way that it wasn't possible to argue, the look in her dark eyes matching. "It's everythin' goin' on around you that's wrong, the way it's all been happenin' at once. You get a letter sayin' your brother's dead, and that's when Rull starts bitin' his own tail. You go home tryin' to ease the hurt a little, and you get jumped by baddies, laughed at by your father, and shoved at a Flower you're told you have to marry. The baddies jump you again and this time get you, you escape and manage to make it home again, but now the baddies have your father and sisters. You and your Fist and another friend break into the castle, and then you almost get yourself killed. When did you have the time for sittin' and thinkin', even about what you wanted for supper?"
"Well, I have had some thinking time, but I've spent most of it proving to myself how wrong everyone around me is," I admitted with a shake of my head. "Even now my thinking wants to go that way, avoiding everything else as if it were tainted. I'm still living just for the now, and most of me doesn't want that changed."
"Just like with everythin' else, you've got to give the changin' time," she said gently, putting a hand on my shoulder. "It won't happen now, sister, and wouldn't even if you were ruler of this kingdom. You can help it along by always figurin' out at least two ways of doin' somethin', and then thinkin' about the worst and best ways those choices could end up. Do look at your life like a battle, and start picturin' your carcass dead in a ditch if you send your reserves to the wrong front. It won't matter then who was right and who was wrong."
"I think I need some reconnaissance maps," I put in sourly, patting her arm before walking over to lean my right shoulder against a very large outcropping of gray rock. "Every time I try to picture things, my imagination runs away with the paint brush. That might not be so bad, but it seems to prefer only black and brown and gray as colors. I'm beginning to believe there aren't any others."
"You can only find the others if you go lookin' for them with your eyes opened wide," she came back, strolling after me to stop a couple of feet away. "There's always somethin' fun to see if you look in the right place, and there's one I wish I'd been there to see. The man Kylin you talked about… A King's Fighter dressed up like a Flower? How'd they get him tied down long enough to dress him like that?"
"From what I gather, his father talked him into it while my father instigated," I said with a sudden grin as I remembered what he'd looked like. "Kylin's a really big man and that's impossible to hide, so they opted for making him look bigger yet. When I heard he'd arrived at the castle - the servants were in such an uproar, you should have heard it here in the mountains - I stalked over to my father's study to get a look at this wonder of wonders who was going to make a better heir than me - and incidentally be my husband. The first thing I saw when I stopped in the doorway was this pastel-colored mountain of flab, wearing red boots and a red swordbelt."
"Red boots and swordbelt?" she asked with a snicker. "I've heard it said you've got to watch out for people like that. A man who'll take the chance of makin' Evon laugh is likely to do anythin'."
"They must have been talking about Kylin," I agreed. "He came tripping over to me and tried to take my hand, and I almost cut him down right then. Picture … picture this mound of rock, wearing billows of pale green and a yellow cloak along with the red boots and swordbelt, smiling fatuously and simpering at you. It would have been enough to make a lesser woman lose her lunch before screaming and running to hide."
"He did that to an armed Blade?" she said, her brows raised while she grinned. "That's got to be one brave man, King's Fighter or no. He get the hots for you?"
"He must have," I answered with what I hoped was a casual shrug. "I did manage to get away from those kidnappers by myself, but he wasn't far behind and he found me wandering along the road, still floating from that swamp mist they'd knocked me out with. When I finally came out of it enough to know who and where I was, we were in a cave with him looking down at me."
"And then he was in the blankets with you," she said with relish, moving a little closer. "Let's have some details, girl. It's been too long since the last time I heard you rate a man."
"But he wasn't in the blankets with me, at least not that fast," I corrected with a small, evil grin. "He was supposed to be a Flower, remember, and Flowers don't do ugly, dirty things like that. He told me he'd been thinking about our marriage, and he was afraid he might not be able to do his husbandly duty toward me. He'd decided to try it, and if he couldn't perform he'd be willing to call off the wedding."
"That dirty dog," she breathed, half outraged and half delighted. "He must have started out offerin' candy. Makin' you think you had a chance to get out of that weddin' was bad, but I'll bet it worked."
"Not without a struggle," I assured her, shifting more of my back against the boulder. "He was gallantly prepared to let me refuse, but then the wedding would go ahead as planned. If we found out then that he had a problem, it would be way too late. I finally decided to go along with his … suggestion, but also decided to add a touch or two of my own. Do you remember that list a bunch of us made once, covering every major turnoff we'd heard our Fistmates or male Blade friends ever mention, plus a few we came up with ourselves?"
"No, you didn't!" she accused, then her grin came back twice as wide. "There's not a man alive who could stand against that list, or so we thought. Don't tell me he did?"
"He must have been doing without as long as I'd had to," I told her wryly, remembering the time vividly. "I thought I was dealing with a virgin so what I mainly tried was to make him doubt himself, but it didn't work. And when he discovered I wasn't letting myself get aroused - one of the best items on our list - he started to touch me. Kaffa, I didn't want to feel anything, but that made no difference to him. He teased me so high I thought I would pass out and die, and that was when he finally came to me. Do you remember that slave Hoffan, the one we all swore we would buy or steal from that dive of a night house in Rathnor? Well, Kylin's bigger, has better technique, and even has more staying power. I never thought I'd live to see it."
"Sounds like you almost didn't live after seein' it," she commented, the grin now softened. "So he's a liar and a cheat, but at least he's good in the blankets."
"No, Kaffa, no," I protested, suddenly upset out of all proportion to what she'd said. "He's not a liar or a cheat, he's actually a man of honor. He didn't tell me the truth because he'd given his word not to, and he kept that word even though he was being hurt because of it. He really isn't half bad, and he went out of his way to make me laugh."
"It sounds like it would be worth a woman's while to get involved with a man like that," she said, now looking at me from under half-closed lids. "If she's got to marry, she could obviously do a lot worse."
"You've just uttered the one phrase that turns the whole thing sour," I said, all of the fun of our previous conversation melting and running like a puddle into the rock beneath our feet. "'Got to.' As long as someone keeps insisting that I have to go along with the idea, all I want to do is step back and draw my sword, then invite them to try making me obey. I don't think I can go along with it, even if - I sometimes think - it might not be all that bad. And besides, I doubt if Kylin will bother trying to make me laugh anymore."
"Why, what did you do?" she asked, and now her eyes were narrowed rather than half closed. "By all the Voices ever to bespeak the Spirits… You always seemed to have that special touch, girl, the one that never fails in makin' a bad situation worse. I hoped you'd outgrow it, but it looks like you haven't."
"I don't think outgrowing it is possible," I muttered, looking down at my hands as I stood slumped against the rock. "I … told Kylin why I was here in the mountains, and what I was trying to do. He tried to smooth things over by offering to help me look for my brothers, but I know he felt hurt. And then - somehow - he got the idea that I would rather be dead than married to him."
"Somehow," she echoed flatly, and I could feel her stare. "Why am I willin' to bet the 'somehow' came about because you were talkin' instead of thinkin'? Well, the one question left now is easy: would you rather be dead than married to him?"
"If that's your idea of an easy question, I have a surprise for you," I returned, sending her a sour glance. "I can't remember a time when the idea of being married didn't scare me stupid, and nothing has happened to change that. It's all wrapped up with that 'got to,' only this part of it sends me running in sheer panic. I don't hate Kylin and in fact I don't even dislike him, but the thought of being married…"
I couldn't control the shudder that ran through me, and it had nothing to do with the still-cool air. Being trapped like that with no escape, unable to fight and unable to run…
"I know how you feel because I used to feel the same," Kaffa said gently as she put a hand to my shoulder. "When I was very young they told me I would marry, and I screamed at them and swore I would never do it. I went and joined a Sword Company during my wild time, and made up my mind never to go back to the mountains. I did go back for visits, of course, and durin' the last one I made, my intended husband showed up to spend some talkin' time with me."
"What did you do?" I asked, finally looking straight at her again. "Did you have to hurt him before he agreed to leave you alone?"
"I couldn't have hurt him even if I'd wanted to," she answered wryly. "He was a mountain fighter, girl, and spendin' your wild time in the mountains the way most men do isn't as easy as joinin' a Company. He wouldn't have done me any harm in return, but he wouldn't have let me hurt him. He did most of the talkin' because I swore I had nothin' to say, and then my folks invited him to spend the night. He ended up spendin' it in my bed, and wouldn't let me find some place else to sleep. Big men are pushy, not to mention real hard to argue with."
"Tell me about it," I muttered, wondering why she seemed to think the whole thing was funny. "So how did it turn out?"
Before she could answer we heard her name being called, and we both turned to see Reedin making his way up toward us over the rocks. He moved better than I'd done during the short climb, but he still looked a bit blurry around the edges.
"Kaffa, Himdor said most everybody's here, so would you please rejoin them," the boy got out when he reached us, breathing almost heavily.
"Well, now we get to see how good a talker I am," Kaffa said after taking a deep breath. "Wish me luck, Softy, and get as much rest as you can. If things go the way I want them to, we'll be movin' out at first light. I'll see you later."
"Hey!" I called after her as she began to trot back toward the inn. "You never finished your story. How did it turn out?"
She stopped about ten feet away, and turned a little to grin at me over her shoulder.
"I decided I did want to talk to him after all, and spent a good number of hours doin' it," she said, making it sound like the simplest and most natural thing in the world. "Then I returned to the Company, put all my affairs in order before resignin', and came back here and married him. We got two sons already and now he wants a girl, but he'll have to wait till this mess is over and done with."
She laughed before continuing on in the direction she'd started to go, and I was left with a lot of confusion - not to mention the boy, Reedin. The confusion I could push away for a while by ignoring it, but males of all ages aren't gotten rid of that easily.
"I … need to talk to you, girl," a hesitant voice came from behind me. There had also been the sound of boots scuffing against rock as though in discomfort, but the sound had stopped.
"I think you did enough talking last night," I commented without turning, trying to keep the words neutral rather than accusing. "I have to get back to the inn, to see if I can reclaim the room I gave up. I'd hate to spend tonight where you did last night."
"Tophin said to tell you you already got that room back," Reedin said hastily before I could move off. "He had your saddlebags put back in it, and gave me the key. It's right here."
I turned only my head to look at him, and saw the key he held dangling from the fingers of his right hand. At the same time his expression was one of calm determination despite a shadow of nervousness, and I knew immediately that trying to avoid talking about what had happened wasn't going to be possible. Reedin was set on having the conversation, but that was no reason it couldn't be done on my terms.
"If that's my key, it belongs right here," I said, holding out my left hand. "Would you do me the kindness of bringing it to me?"
He hesitated visibly, probably picturing his way of keeping me there vanishing if he gave up the key, but he had no grounds for refusal. A baseless "no" would have made him look bad, and apparently he had no desire to look bad. Frustration flashed briefly in his very dark eyes, but then the emotion was gone and he began moving slowly toward me.
"I … wanted to apologize for what I did last night," he said, bringing the key but at the same time ignoring it. "Swallowin' that much brew is dumb, but I had somethin' to say and I wasn't sure how you would take to hearin' it. My interest in you won't go away, girl, so it's no good actin' like it will. I'm askin' for a chance to prove how good I can make everythin' for you, just like you deserve. You can't say no to givin' a man one little bitty chance?"
By that time he was only a couple of feet away, and the grin he flashed at me was pure charm. A boy his age shouldn't have been that smooth at dangling a line, but apparently the men around there began to train their sons in the use of more than edged weapons at a very early age.
"I can say no to anything I please," I told his grin very flatly, making no effort to return the friendliness. "There's nothing about you that I find of interest, and all the talk in these mountains won't change that. Where I come from you're just a boy, and that no matter how many times you try to deny it. I'm a grown woman and a Blade, and no normal woman chooses a boy over a man. All I can ask at this point is, don't make me sorry I saved your life. And now I'd like my key."
His grin had disappeared very quickly after I'd first started to speak, and had just as quickly been replaced by hurt. I'd been brutally direct in voicing my refusal, but despite the hurt it had been the best thing for him. Letting him think he had a chance with me would have been worse - for both of us - and that way the matter was over and done with. I'd raised my left hand again, waiting for the key I wasn't about to request for a third time, and at least that part of it got through to him clearly.
"No need to lose your temper, the key's here and yours," he said with a sigh, dropping the thing in my hand. "I guess you think you got reason for refusin', and that part of it I can't argue. A woman does need a man, and if you don't see me that way it's me that has to do somethin' about it. Once I do, I'll be askin' you again."
He touched his fingertips briefly to my cheek, and then he turned and began to stride back toward the inn. I closed my eyes and shouted his name with every ounce of the vexation filling me, but he ignored my anger and shout alike. He'd decided to find a way to prove to me that he was a man, and wasn't interested in hearing me tell him he was wasting his time. I cursed under my breath then brought the volume up a little, but the effort didn't even serve to make me feel better. All I could do was stalk off in the same direction the boy had taken.
By the time I reached the inn Reedin had disappeared, and the doors to the dining room were closed with two large men standing casually in front of them. It was possible to doubt that the two men were guards stationed there to keep the big meeting from being interrupted, but testing the theory wasn't worth the trouble. Tophin stood behind his counter again, and when he saw me he gestured me over.
"Since the dinin' room won't be available for a while, anythin' you want will be sent to your room," he said, leaning a casual elbow on the counter. "You name it, and I'll tell you if I got it."
"How about someone's head on a platter?" I asked, trying to smooth the growl out of my voice. "If I get to name the someone, you have a deal."
"Can't ask me to break my own rule about no fightin' here," he answered with a grin. "And since I've seen the boy usin' weapons, there would surely be a fight. It is Reedin you're talkin' about, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's Reedin," I agreed with an exasperated sigh. "But if he keeps on the way he's been going, he'll be the late Reedin even if I have to do it myself. Even if I were looking for a man - which I'm not - I wouldn't choose him even if he were a man - which he's not. He's got me so furious I can't even put the language together right anymore."
"The men in these parts usually look at that as a good sign," he said, his grin even more amused. "Generally, if a woman gets mad at you it's because you're not doin' somethin' right. You do get it right, and all that mad'll turn to somethin' you can enjoy. It just takes some livin' to learn that kind of mad from the kind that won't ever change. Reedin doesn't know the difference yet."
"That's not a good enough reason to let him keep bothering me," I said, still not sharing his amusement. "If he pushes it too far, I'll end up doing something we'll both regret. I'm not in a very good mood these days, and getting pushed is the reason for it. If Reedin adds himself to that list, he'll find himself paying for everyone else's mistakes as well as his own."
"And then he'll find himself bein' treated like a man, but in the wrong way," Tophin said with a nod, finally understanding that the point was deadly serious rather than a joke. "Suppose I talk to him and see if I can't get him to back off, at least for a while. You won't mind my intrudin'?"
"That's not intrusion, it's badly needed help," I answered with a smile, letting him know I really appreciated the offer. "If you do manage to get somewhere with him, I'll be in your debt."
"No woman in these mountains ever finds herself in a man's debt," Tophin corrected, gently but firmly. "If she thinks she wants to thank him for somethin' she does it, in whatever way she chooses, but only because she wants to. No real man would ever accept a 'has to.'"
"Sounds like what I need is to find more real men," I muttered, then shook my head with another smile when Tophin raised his brows questioningly. "Never mind, I was just daydreaming out loud. Say, do you by any chance have a wash house I could use? I didn't bring much in the way of clothes with me, and the things in my saddlebags are way beyond well-worn. Since I won't be leaving here before tomorrow dawn at the earliest, I thought I'd make use of the time."
"We got more than just clothes-washin'," he answered, returning my smile. "You go down the back stairs and turn right, and at the end of the hall there you'll find two doors. The one on the right's for clothes, the one on the left's for hides. There's a hot spring that bubbles up from the heart of the mountain right here, so we got all the hot water we want. Plenty of cold too, from a stream runnin' down off the ice and snow at the top. You won't find a lowland place takin' such good care of her folk like the mountains do."
"No, I don't think you could find better, or even almost as good," I agreed, delighted to hear the news. "And since all that water is here to be used, I think I'll go and use it. I'll talk to you later to find out if you've made any progress with my problem."
He nodded amiably and didn't add anything, so I made a probably too-hasty exit. Up to my room to get the black trousers and green shirt I wanted to wash - as well as a blanket - and then down the back stairs which weren't hard to find at all. The hall Tophin mentioned was to the right, but to the left was a door that led out to the stable. When I saw that I swallowed down my impatience for a short time, took a little while to visit Bloodsheen and make sure he was happy, and then it was back to the hall on the right.
The clothes-washing room was relatively small, but there were two long wooden tubs that seemed to have been built into the floor, with water bubbling in their bottoms that was hot enough to send steam up into the air. Right next to each tub was another, smaller tub, and behind those were barrels of cold water with empty buckets on the floor in front of them. I used the bucket to put hot water in one of the empty tubs, added some cold for the sake of the skin I wanted to keep on my hands, found a lump of coarse washing soap, and then tackled my clothes.
Even with hot water and soap it was a job getting the shirt and trousers clean, but when it was finally done and the things had been wrung out I had to look around for where they could be left to dry. Opening a large window in an outer wall showed me two strung clothes lines, one with clothes flapping in a crevasse breeze, the other empty. I couldn't quite see the bottom of the crevasse that produced the breeze and over which the lines hung, so it was clear I'd better make sure my clothes were securely pinned to the line if I ever wanted to see them again. I used the empty line along with a muttered request to Evon that he watch over my only spare clothes, and then it was finally time to see what the hide-washing room looked like.
The door across the hall opened on a much larger room, one separated into half a dozen smaller areas by shoulder-high walls. Each of the smaller areas had climb-in wooden tubs big enough to hold two people, and the front section of the room had another couple of sunken tubs with steaming hot water in their bottoms. This time the barrels of cold water were set in each of the smaller areas, and the bailing buckets were stacked near the hot-water tubs. There were no windows in this room, but the lamps hanging on the front and back walls supplied a sufficient amount of light.
As hot as the hot water was, it didn't take many bucketsful before it was necessary to start adding cold. Once I had it just right and pleasantly deep enough, I stripped off my leathers and left them with the blanket I'd brought. Not caring to see a delightful time ruined I also leaned my sword, still scabbarded, against the tub on the outside, and then it was time to get me on the inside.
The water-lugging and wait proved absolutely worth the effort, and I soaked for a long while before getting down to washing. When I was scrubbed clean I used the extra bucket of hot water I'd set aside, now cooled to a bearable temperature, and rinsed off. After that there was nothing left to do but pull the plug in the bottom of the tub and climb out. When my feet were dried I pulled on my boots, wrapped myself in the blanket before gathering up my clothes and sword, then went back to my room.
The only practical place to wait for my other clothes to dry was in bed, so I took my boots off again and dropped the blanket, then got practical. Being in bed felt really good after the way the bath had relaxed me, and it seemed like the right time to try making some of those plans Kaffa had talked about. Where did I intend to go, and what did I want to do?
I thought about it for a number of minutes, not getting very far, and then I realized how sleepy I was. My eyes seemed to close all by themselves, and then the dream began…
I was in a cave, I could see that much, but I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there. The stone walls of the passage I walked were rather close together, but the ceiling was a good distance above my head. Somewhere below that ceiling there were torches flickering, and the light they gave off was a definite dark orange. The passage itself twisted into countless curves and blind turns, showing nothing but more dark gray rock and orange light, until finally -
"Well, it's about time," Kylin said from where he stood leaning his right shoulder against the left-hand wall, his arms folded across his chest. "I've been waiting for you, and you should have been here before now. What kept you?"
"I was taking a bath," I answered, immediately feeling annoyed. "I know that's a ritual you prefer to avoid whenever possible, but that doesn't mean the rest of us have to be just as uncivilized. Besides, my appointment secretary forgot to remind me you'd be waiting."
"We both should have known there would be something like this, but I have to admit I didn't anticipate it either," he said, unfolding his arms as I got closer. "We're not where we are for the reasons we thought, so we've got to rearrange our thinking. Our lives undoubtedly depend on how well we do."
"I'll bet you think you just told me something," I remarked, taking over the arm-folding as I looked up at him. "Just to set the record straight, I didn't understand a single word of that speech and I seriously doubt if anyone could. And what's all this 'we' business? I told you very clearly that whatever I did I preferred to do it alone. Ignoring what I say won't do any more for you than waste your time."
"I'm not the one who's ignoring it," he answered with a sudden grin, those pretty eyes of his bright even in that orangey dimness. "Someone else seems to think we belong together, so he's taking steps to see that we are. You intend arguing with Evon?"
"You think that because he chose both of us to wear his bracers, that means he wants us together?" I asked with a sound of ridicule. "It's fairly obvious we're expected to fight together in his cause, but that has nothing to do with our personal lives. All it means is that we'll probably die together."
"If we were that easy to kill we wouldn't have been chosen," he countered, the grin still there as he brought one finger to my cheek. "No, I think we're meant to do more than just fight together, and the point will be proven while we look for the others. We can't lead them to where they have to be until we find them, and until we find them you and I will be alone."
"Don't worry about being alone with me, I can be trusted to keep your virtue intact," I told him with a slow grin of my own, deliberately taking a short step back from his stroking finger. "I've learned a lesson, you see, about opening the door even a crack with a ravening wolf right outside. Who are these others we're supposed to be looking for, and how do you know about them?"
"If you'd been here on time you'd know all about it too," he answered, still smiling down at me, following my retreat without trying to touch me again. "The others have to be guided to where Evon wants them, and also have to be guarded against the force that will try to stop them. Once they get where they're going they'll be able to guard themselves, but until then it's up to us. We'll know them when we see them, and - you smell absolutely wonderful."
"The smell comes from a magical process called washing with soap," I told him, doing nothing more than smiling pleasantly. "If there's supposed to be fighting ahead of us, why are you all dressed up?"
"Right now these are the clothes I most want to wear," he said, making no effort to glance down at the black boots, tight-fitting tan trousers, and wide-sleeved white shirt he had on. He also had an intricately-worked and delicately-jeweled black leather swordbelt strapped about his hips, but the silvered hilt jutting up above it clearly belonged to the heavy sword that was his.
"This is the more comfortable part of what was supposed to be my wedding suit," he went on, his eyes still staring down into mine. "It's what I would have chosen above everything else to wear, just as your own choice is those black leathers you have on. Apparently this is a place where we each get to have our say."
I looked down at myself in startlement, and saw immediately that he was right. I wore my fighting leathers, but they were fresh and clean and almost new. My black swordbelt was something of a shock, as I hadn't seen it or my sword since they'd been taken by the kidnappers I'd escaped from. The most disturbing presence, however, was my silver Company medallion, the chain no longer broken, the medallion itself no longer packed away in my saddlebags.
"It looks like we each want something we can't have," Kylin remarked, but his expression wasn't nearly as resigned as his words. "Shall we get started with looking for the others?"
"Best idea I've heard yet," I muttered, more than glad when he backed off and gestured with one arm in the direction I'd originally been going. I didn't know what was happening or where I was, but there was no doubt about the rightness of my being here. I had a job to do, and it would have to be done no matter what else was going on at the same time.
The passageway widened a little after the point where I met Kylin, so he and I were able to walk side by side. An uneventful and silent number of moments passed, and then we came to a fork in the passageway. Two identical corridors of rock led off in opposite directions, but the choice of which way to go wasn't difficult.
"We want the fork to the left," I told a Kylin who had stopped to frown at our choice. "That's the way we're supposed to go."
"How do you know?" he asked, still looking back and forth between the two passages. "How can you sound so utterly sure?"
"I sound sure because I am," I said, feeling that faint annoyance again. "And did I ask how you knew all those other things?"
"Yes, you did," he came back immediately, "but you also didn't question the rather vague answer I gave. You don't usually suffer from doubt, do you? If you think something is right, you go ahead and simply accept it."
"That seems to be typical behavior for someone who lives only for the now," I said with a sigh as I looked away from him. "I'm trying to learn how to do it differently, but it isn't proving easy."
"While we're in this place, forget about trying to change," he said, and I glanced at him to see the way he now looked around. "I'll worry about planning ahead, while you concentrate on the here and now. Always looking toward the future sometimes blinds me to what's happening in front of my feet."
I thought that was kind of a strange thing to say, but it also wasn't a subject I was dying to discuss. I led off toward the left-hand fork and Kylin followed, and after another few minutes the fork was lost in the distance behind us. The cave or whatever it was we were in was very quiet, but the definite feeling came to me that that would not be continuing.
Which was a prophetic thought if I'd ever had one. A couple of turns later the passage widened into a rock-walled clearing of sorts, with different-sized boulders growing out of the floor like bushes in a forest. Spires of stone also grew down from the ceiling, and although I could see a fairly easy path leading through the area, I stopped to look around carefully.
"It annoys me that the easy way usually has a trap of some sort," Kylin said, inspecting the clear path with distrust. "Why can't it be the twisty way for once that's the wrong way to go?"
"How do you know it isn't?" I asked, amused that I'd been thinking almost the same thing. "Choosing a path just because it's harder is as stupid as taking the easy way without thinking about who might have been up it ahead of you. If there's no trap the easy way you've saved yourself some effort, and if there is you've got better footing for the fight."
"I'm impressed," Kylin said with a grin, glancing down at me with the eye that wasn't still looking around. "Not only are you cute and cuddly, you also have a good head for terrain. If we get jumped somewhere in the middle of those boulders, the advantage will be with our attackers. If we're on the path we should be able to hold our own, so that's the way we'll go. You spotted that almost as fast as I did."
"Almost as fast?" I demanded, looking up at him in outrage as I put my fists to my hips. "Cute and cuddly?"
"Now, now, I'm sure you realize this isn't the time or place for us to go into intimate discussions," he said with a laugh and then drew his sword. "I'm convinced we'll find a better place for it up ahead, so the first thing we have to do is get through this place. You intend meeting the enemy with nothing but empty hands?"
I told him in a colorful way what he could do with his hands, preferably with his sword still in one of them, and then drew my own blade and began to move ahead. Losing your temper when there's a chance you'll have to fight usually isn't very smart, but there are times when the anger can be used to your advantage. I couldn't very well show my companion what I thought of his sense of humor, but any other living being who had the misfortune to get in my way…
We didn't get very far along the path before my wish for victims was granted, but it wasn't immediately clear whether they really were living beings. There were three of them and they were shaped like men, but most men aren't orange-tinged dark gray silhouettes with swords to match and no features showing. They leaped onto the path ahead of us from the surrounding boulders, and attacked in unison as though they'd fought as a team all their lives.
Afterward it occurred to me that Kylin and I should have gone down in that first rush, most especially since he and I had never fought as a team. Just about anyone would have reacted wrong or hesitated in the face of that deadly triple assault, but somehow the only reaction I felt was that I couldn't let Kylin be hurt. I'd caused him hurt myself when he didn't deserve to be treated that way, and I wasn't going to let others do it to him again.
Kylin had been walking to my left, and as far as I can tell he and I began to move at exactly the same instant. His left arm brought his bracer up to block the swing of the attacker on the far left while I did the same for the attacker in the middle, stepping out a little in front of Kylin as I also caught the blade of the shadow on the right with my sword. The next heartbeat Kylin was coming in fast and low beneath my left arm to skewer the center attacker with that long, heavy blade of his, and as soon as the orange-looking shadow began to crumple to the ground we were left with no more than one on one.
The single shadow-fighter I faced was good, fast and strong and apparently full of confidence, but he or it lacked that little edge of anger and determination flashing through my blood. I attacked with strength and began to press, and it quickly came to me that my opponent was fighting by the book. Every parry was the proper one and executed exactly right, but that's the way to win contests with rules, not fights to the death. Real fights have only one rule: win any way you can.
You don't often get to use the Fool's Gambit in chess, but for some reason there seem to be more fools involved with swordplay. I flicked my point at my opponent's face, did it again after his neat and precisely correct parry, then circled his defending blade with all my speed and did it a third time. Many schools of fencing will insist that you feint no more than twice before going for your actual target area, and that area should be nowhere near the target you feinted toward. My opponent was smoothly bringing his weapon out of his last parry and swinging it lower when I took him in the face, and that was definitely that.
"Shame on you," Kylin's voice came from behind me as I pulled my sword free from a sagging ex-opponent, heavy amusement to be heard in it. "You took advantage of that poor being, and I saw you do it. What'll you give me to keep quiet about such a terrible thing?"
"Well, I could give you what I gave him," I said, turning to show a very sweet smile to the man I addressed. "That way your silence is guaranteed. If that's what you want, please hurry up and say so. I don't like leaving my blade fouled if I'm not going to use it again right away."
"I think I'd rather come up with a price of my own choosing," he answered with a grin, and I noticed that his own sword was still in his fist and not yet cleaned. "I'll think about it while we walk, and let you know what occurs to me."
"No problem," I said with the same smile. "Just bear in mind the fact that if I don't like your idea, I'll simply fall back on my original one. But don't let that discourage you from coming up with something good."
I saw his grin widen as I turned away to my former opponent, then used his gray-shadow clothing to wipe the orangey gore from my blade. By the time I turned back Kylin had done the same with the first body he'd made, and we were ready to move on.
We were already a few steps on our way when it came to me that we hadn't looked more closely at the opponents we'd bested, but it didn't seem to matter. Whatever they'd originally been they were presently dead, and we had other things to do. I wasn't quite sure what those other things were, but the weapons we held openly before us had a lot to do with it.
And so did the four four-legged animals that suddenly attacked us, animals that looked something like wolves. They seemed to be dark gray in color with highlights of dull orange, and they split two and two against Kylin and me. If they'd come from behind they might have had us, but it was almost as if they were forced to face us in attack because our backs were protected. Whatever it was, they came straight at us, and we didn't quite have the time to admire their pretty teeth.
I was able to spit the beast on my right, but the one on the left took advantage of my sword's being engaged and leaped for my throat. Its teeth closed around the bracer I was able to bring up just in time, the weight behind it's lunge almost knocking me off my feet, its rasping breath loud in my ears. The first beast died without making a sound, the second attacked in the same way, and only the scuffing of Kylin's attempt at defense broke the heavy silence.
I ground my teeth against the ache of the beast's jaws trying to crush my arm under the bracer, disentangled my sword from the body of the first beast, then brought the hilt crashing down on the second animal's skull. The blow didn't kill it, only stunned it enough to knock it away from me, but that was all I needed. As long as it wasn't in my lap I could put my blade through its chest, and then I turned to see how Kylin was doing.
Which, surprisingly, turned out to be not all that well. One of his two attackers was down, but since it wasn't dead it was busy trying to crawl at him in attack. I chopped it hard where its neck met its body, ending its crawl, then tried to decide whether or not to go for the beast hanging from Kylin's left arm. Or from his bracer, which did make a difference. Before I could make up my mind Kylin used his hilt the way I'd done, but he didn't simply knock the beast away. His blow shattered the thing's skull, which meant he didn't have to bother with finishing it off.
"Boy, it must be nice to be that big and strong," I said in a very … admiring voice. "Of course, it's even nicer to be quick enough that that kind of strength isn't necessary, but I suppose you can't have everything."
"All right, all right, so I paid for being too nosy," he grumbled, sending me a moderate glare. "I was afraid those things would knock you down in their first rush, so I watched a little too long before remembering I was being attacked too. I was able to kick the first one away from me, but the second one hung on with teeth."
"It seems to be a talent of theirs," I commented, deciding to pay no attention to the ache in my left arm as I wiped my sword relatively clean again, this time on gray fur. "At least you get away with not having to clean your sword, but next time mind your own business. I don't need an audience to perform, and I don't get much of a thrill over having to do most of the killing."
"Yes, ma'am, I'll be good," he answered in a very serious way, but the veiled amusement in his eyes cancelled out the seriousness. He would do whatever he felt like doing, but didn't consider the intention something he might be willing to argue about.
We were only a little more than half way across the area of boulders so I felt certain we would be attacked again, but it didn't happen. We reached the end of the path and continued on into a passage like the one we'd started with, and nothing else menaced us. The passage went on with a couple of gentle twists and turns, the light still strangely orange, and then we reached something like an open doorway to the left. It was an arch carved into the rock, and beyond it the light seemed to be silvery blue.
"I'll go first and take a look," Kylin said at once, stepping into the doorway before I could see anything beyond the color of the light. "If you like you can come with me, otherwise you can stay here and guard my line of retreat. The choice is yours."
"I don't much care for close-ended choices," I told his broad back, the annoyance rising again. "Since you can see past me a lot more easily than I can see past you, it would be smarter if I went first. That way we'll both be able to see an attack coming."
"I have the feeling that attack isn't something we have to worry about here," he said, ignoring my disagreement as he moved ahead into the chamber beyond the doorway. "Take a look and tell me what you think."
I was about to tell him what I thought about him, in language he couldn't possibly misinterpret, but just then he stepped aside and let me see past him into the chamber. It had silvery blue light, all right, from what looked like a silvery blue sun hanging in the upper air of the chamber, positioned over a wide, oval pool of silver water. The gray rock all around it was so smooth it looked polished, and it was also more blue than gray. Two very large cushions of white - like bedding without the beds - were arranged on the smooth rock in front of the pool, and a silver goblet stood beside each of the cushions.
"Are we supposed to take this seriously?" I asked, glancing at a Kylin who had lowered his sword until the point touched the ground. "Maybe you look that credulous, but I certainly hope I don't."
"You think it's too inviting," Kylin said, his eyes moving all around. "You don't believe it's possible we're being rewarded for our victories? Would anyone else dare use Evon's silver like that?"
"Different people and beings are willing to dare different things," I answered with a shrug, then got an idea. "This time you guard our line of retreat. I want to try something."
"Why don't I like the sound of that?" he asked with a frown, but his sword was high in his fist again and he wasn't trying to follow me over to the pool. "Just try to be careful."
"I'm always careful," I muttered in distraction, circling one of the cushions to reach a silver goblet. Inside the goblet was a pale red wine, the first thing colored red I'd seen since I'd found myself in this place, but it didn't look strange. I sheathed my sword and crouched near the goblet, then reached over and touched it with my silver bracer.
Kylin made a sound in his throat like a man suddenly coming across a great work of art he hadn't been expecting, and I knew just how he felt. The combined glow of the bracer and goblet together was a silver glory of radiant mist, sparkling and spreading to the other goblet and then to the pool. I wouldn't have minded if it had gone on to cover everything in the chamber including Kylin and me, but once it flowed over the white cushions it faded in a way that led me to believe it had things to do elsewhere.
"Well, that settles that question," Kylin said from behind me, and I heard him sheathe his sword. "If anything happens to us in this place, it will only be by Evon's doing. How did you come to think of trying that?"
"You asked about someone else daring to use Evon's silver," I reminded him, straightening out of my crouch. "It occurred to me that the bracers are Evon's silver, and probably would not get along well with someone else's fakes. I have to admit I wasn't expecting the sort of … spectacular approval this place was given, but it does make me feel a little less suspicious."
"A little less suspicious," he echoed with a laugh, and I looked up to find him right beside me. "Now I know why that approval had to be spectacular. Anything less and you'd probably still have your sword in your hand."
"That's not a bad idea for a couple of reasons," I said, beginning to turn away from him. "We'd be fools if we didn't take turns staying alert while we're here - "
"Then we'll be fools," he interrupted, pulling me back and holding me up against him. "It won't be the first time for me, and I want to tell you how much I admire your sword skill. I watched you with that shadow you out-pointed, and told myself again how smart I was to keep a weapon out of your hands when you thought I was your enemy. At least you know now that I'm not your enemy - don't you?"
"That all depends on how you define the word," I muttered, trying to push out of his arms in a cool, controlled way. "Kylin, this really isn't a very good idea, especially when we don't know who or what will be coming through that doorway, so - "
"But Tisah, nothing can come through that doorway, not to mention no one," he murmured, still holding me close but raising one hand to my hair. "Don't you see the silver mist covering the opening? We can do anything we like without worrying about being bothered."
I hate to admit it, but I actually made the mistake of turning my head to look at the doorway. The silver mist was covering the opening just as I'd been told, but what I hadn't been told was that two lips would come to my face and throat as soon as I wasn't watching. Kylin's kiss was something I hadn't had in what seemed like a very long time, but I really didn't want him to do that. I turned my head back toward him to say so, but never got the chance.
The lips that had been on my face moved to my mouth, and it was almost like being bathed in that silver mist again. All the other times I'd kissed Kylin I'd hated myself for the way I felt, for not being able to resist the touch of an enemy. But now I knew he wasn't an enemy, that he and I were very much on the same side, and maybe that was why I was so immediately overwhelmed. His demanding lips brought a gnawing hunger that awoke the same thing in me, and I had to hold tight to his rock-hard body to keep the dizziness from swinging me out into the dark that circles the moon.
I have no idea how long the kiss went on, but when it finally ended I opened my eyes to see Kylin looking down at me. He'd done a lot of talking earlier but right now he wasn't saying a word, not a question, not a comment, nothing. His smile was so strange, as though he'd just found out a very important secret but was wordlessly promising not to tell anyone else. I felt a flash of very intense fear, worse than anything I'd experienced while we were being attacked, but didn't understand why. There was no danger in that place, Evon had promised…
"Don't be afraid, little fawn," Kylin whispered, touching his lips to my mouth, my eyes, my cheeks. "You know I'd never hurt you, I'd die before I hurt you. And it's been so long."
His arms tightened around me, and then he was putting us both down on one of the large white cushions. I wanted him to do that - I did! - but at the same time I didn't. As though I were a child who couldn't make up her mind. I couldn't imagine what was wrong with me, and then I realized that our clothes and weapons were gone. We lay in each other's arms with nothing to keep us apart, and desire rose so flamingly high in me that I couldn't keep from shuddering.
"Tell me you want me," he whispered, one big hand caressing my body as he began to kiss me again. "Everything about you shouts that you do, but you've never said the words. I need to hear them, now more than ever. Tell me you want me as deeply as I want you."
I heard what he asked and I tried to say something, if not what he wanted then something that would do as well. His hands touched me all over while his lips trailed down my flesh, and I breathed so hard I was nearly panting. I tried again to say something, anything, anything at all! - but not a single sound would come. I struggled and strained, and then the chamber began to ring with a far-off booming … booming … booming …
- knocking, at the door of my room, and I woke up so confused I couldn't remember where I was. The room was dim with very late-afternoon light, and then I recalled the inn and understood that I must have fallen asleep after taking that bath.
"Who is it?" I called out, just to stop that incessant hammering at my door. The knock wasn't as loud as I'd first considered it, but for some reason it was really bothering me.
"Lady, I have your clothes," a female voice answered, floating through the door. "They were dry a while ago, and since you didn't come for 'em, I was asked to bring 'em. You want me to leave 'em out here?"
"No, bring them on in," I answered, having by then realized I hadn't locked the door before falling asleep. My enemies could have come in and slit my throat for all I would have known, and I wouldn't have been able to say I didn't deserve it. Sloppy doing from sloppy thinking, and if you happen to survive it it's pure blind luck.
I sat up under the scratchy blanket to run my hands through my hair, and watched as the girl came through the door with my shirt and trousers. She was rather young but pretty, wearing her own shirt and trousers in the mountain way and in mountain colors. She glanced at the sword lying close to hand and immediately dismissed it, then gave me a faint smile as she put my clothes down on the end of the bed.
"Dinin' room's still bein' used, so Tophin's goin' to serve supper in the end room on this floor," she said, gesturing to my right. "It'll be at sundown, and everybody guestin' here and intendin' to eat ought to do it then. I been wakin' everybody and tellin' 'em."
"I appreciate the notice, and I'll definitely be there," I told her, meaning every word. It wasn't hard to remember that I hadn't had any breakfast, and had obviously also missed lunch.
"Looks like everybody means to do the same," she said with a nod. "I'll tell Tophin."
She gave me another faint smile and then left, closing the door behind her. So everyone was going to be at dinner, I thought, rubbing at my left arm to ease the ache that must have been caused by lying on it in my sleep. Everyone meant Traixe, and his Fighters, and -
Kylin. I lay back down as I rubbed my arm, realizing that I must have been dreaming about him. I couldn't quite remember any of the details of the dream, but I did remember being held in his arms. With his hands and lips touching me. And no reason standing between us for me not to enjoy it. I'd never before felt free to enjoy what he was able to bring to a woman, but right now there was nothing to keep me from it. And I did owe him something of an apology for the last words we'd exchanged…
Remembering that gave me an immediate reason for getting up, and as soon as I was into my clothes I'd have to do something about my hair…
Kylin heard the knocking at his door and was instantly awake, his hand just short of his sword hilt. The knocking was too soft to make him feel that he ought to be armed, so he pulled his hand back to rub at his face while he yawned. After that he called out something that should have translated as a request to wait, then got up to pull on his trousers.
His scabbarded sword was in his left hand when he unlocked and opened his door, but it was immediately obvious that he wouldn't be needing a weapon. Not only was the small, pretty girl outside unarmed herself, but she was also familiar.
"Tophin sent me to tell you that supper will be served in the empty room at the end of the hall," the girl told him with a warm smile as she walked past him into the room. "And if you'll remember, I said I'd give you a proper thank-you for savin' me down below. I'm Galena, by the way."
"I'm glad to see you made it away from those mercenaries safely, Galena," Kylin said with an amused smile at her back, making sure that he left the door to the hall open. "I'm Kylin, and your thanks are accepted. What happened to your staff? Did you trade it in for a job with the innkeeper?"
"I'm just givin' Tophin a hand while I'm here," Galena said with a small gesture of dismissal, turning to smile at him again. "When everythin's settled and it's time to ride, I'll be usin' a sword and a bow rather than a staff. Besides, you don't bring a staff along when you come to give a man a proper thank-you. Which I haven't done yet."
Kylin had walked back to the table near the bed to return his sword to it, and when he turned again he saw Galena near the door, firmly closing it. His first urge was to shut his eyes and sigh, but that wouldn't have done a thing to get him out of the predicament he was in.
"Galena, I already have all the thanks I need," he said without the sigh, returning her smile as she turned toward him again. "My friends and I were more than happy to help you, and that's something you may not remember. There were four of us working together, so if there were any extra thanks due, they'd be due all of us."
"That's silly," she said without the hesitation and dismay Kylin had been hoping for, her grin well amused. "You're the leader of that bunch, so any help they gave was because you told them to give it. Since the order was yours, so is the extra thanks."
"Listen to me, Galena," Kylin said as she began to walk toward him, this time adding the sigh. "You're a very pretty girl and I'm glad I was able to help you, but that's as far as it goes. I'm not interested in any more thanks than I've already been given."
"You can't know how well you'll like the wine until you take a sip," she replied with her grin still in place, stopping about two feet in front of him. Her hands went to the bottom of her blue tunic, her arms lifted and pulled, and then she tossed the cloth to one side as she advanced the remaining two feet. "Now we're both wearin' the same amount of clothin', which will make your sip easier to take."
Her arms slid around his waist and her small hands spread out behind his ribs, which also brought her surprisingly large breasts hard up against his middle. Her dark, lovely eyes looked up into his face as her hands began to move in place on his back, and her voice was even more the soft-velvet it resembled normally.
"Now, isn't this better than worryin' about takin' advantage of poor little me?" she asked with breathy words, pressing the rest of her body up against him. "Let's start with some kissin', and then we can see what else there is to do."
"I see you're not quite as innocent as I thought," Kylin said with a faint smile, looking down at her but otherwise not moving. "I'm glad to see that, because now you should have no trouble understanding when I say I'm not that innocent either. Being offered something doesn't mean I have to take it, a truism I've managed to prove a time or two over the years. You're not the first woman I've sent on her way, but you're close to being the prettiest. Take my advice and find someone more interested to be grateful to."
"Oh, don't tell me you're the kind of man who doesn't like havin' the girl do the chasin'," Galena protested, half in annoyance and half in disappointment. "I heard some lowland men were like that, but I never really believed it. Why don't you try it this way just once, and then if you don't like it you don't have to do it again. Our own men don't mind gettin' chased, so you know there's got to be some fun in it. What do you say? One try?"
"Not this time," Kylin told her firmly, reaching down to her arms and unwrapping them from around him. "If I change my mind I'll let you know."
"Don't think I won't keep askin' until you do," Galena promised, sending him a look of complete annoyance as her very full breasts rose and fell once with a breath of vexation. "I know what I owe, and since I don't mind payin' you should be takin' me up on it. What do they teach you lowlanders anyway?"
"Self control, among other things," Kylin answered, moving the few steps necessary to retrieve the tunic the girl was still ignoring. "It was pleasant to see you again."
"Next time I'm goin' to let you see even more," she said with a grin, taking the tunic he held out to her. "If that doesn't make you change your mind, it's not your mind that needs changin'."
He returned her grin in an easy way while she dressed herself, nodded amiably at her very friendly wave goodbye, and finally was able to take a very deep breath when the door closed behind her. He'd made her believe that she wasn't affecting him, but if he'd had to stand it much longer…
Kylin went back to his bed and sat heavily, wondering why he had refused Galena. It wasn't as if she was too young, after all. When a girl is that sure about what she wants, she's already found out what it's like and that she enjoys it. And she was certainly pretty enough, not to mention having a body that would distract most men from thoughts of self control. No, it was something else that had stopped him, something like the memory of a dream -
"Tisah," he breathed, knowing it had been her. She was the one who had been in his dream, and even though he couldn't remember any of the details he remembered holding her. He'd been about to make love to her, and for the first time he'd felt an eagerness in her flesh that matched the one he'd always felt. He'd wanted her, she'd wanted him, but something had still stood between them, something that hadn't let it happen.
Kylin cursed under his breath in a growl, trying to remember what it was that had kept his love from her. He'd wanted Tisah so badly that Galena hadn't had a chance of distracting him, not even though Tisah in his arms had been a dream while Galena had been real. That dream had felt more real than reality, and he'd wanted it to happen with every ounce of his will. It almost had, but whatever had stopped it had been because of -
Tisah herself. Kylin wasn't certain how that could be, but as he ran a hand through his hair he knew he wasn't mistaken. That wretched girl had done something to keep them apart, and that despite her own very obvious interest. Kylin knew what to do when it was him alone she was trying to deny, but what in Evon's sharpest hell was he supposed to try when now she was even denying herself?
"I'll bet it's chains," Kylin muttered aloud, wishing there was something dangerous around that would make the mistake of attacking him. "I'm supposed to chain her hand and foot without her noticing, laugh off her questions if she starts to get suspicious, and live my life that way. Forget about the fact that I don't want a woman in chains, it's obviously the only way I'll ever have her. I hate dreams, especially ones that are no help at all."
Even though they were supposed to be. Kylin got up and began to pace, wondering where the real key to his problem was. The little he remembered about his dream was very frustrating, and not just to his mind. He'd had his hands and lips on her, she'd been responding in the way he'd always known she could, he'd been so ready that the next step up would have been pain, and then - a wall. Why she'd thrown up that wall wasn't clear, but maybe it was for a reason even she didn't -
"You fool," Kylin breathed, stopping short in his pacing to clap his palm to his head. "The dream wasn't about what was happening in the dream, it was about what's happening now, in the real world, between the two of us. Of course she'd throw up a wall."
Or run away, or maybe even hide in a corner. Kylin went back to the bed and slowly sat down again, depressed despite the sudden revelation. Or, to be more accurate, because of it. The part of his mind that bred dreams had noticed that Tisah was attracted to him, but unlike the rest of his mind it had also noticed that Tisah couldn't afford to let herself be attracted. Attraction led to deeper interest, deeper interest to love, and love most often to -
Marriage, something his Tisah refused to be a part of. He sighed feelingly as he realized that, also realizing that in her opinion attraction was fine as long as it was nothing but physical, nothing that would involve her spirit as deeply as her body. She could encourage his lovemaking as long as she discouraged his love, and that was the wall she'd erected to keep them apart.
"Wonderful," Kylin growled, letting himself fall flat to the bed. "All she wants me for is my body. Am I supposed to feel flattered?"
Sure, he thought with a snort of sour amusement. A man is always supposed to feel flattered if he manages to catch the attention of a female Blade. The female of the type was reputedly harder to please than the male, and night houses usually asked their female Blade customers to sponsor and publicly praise any male worker they found especially entertaining. They never asked any male customers to do that, not that the men needed enticements to patronize the different houses…
"But damn it all, I'm supposed to be her husband, not some slave or free worker she lets hang around her," Kylin muttered as he sat straight again, his growl even deeper now. "If all she wants is to get me between the blankets, can I afford to let her do it? Even though that's exactly what I want?"
The question was more than annoying. Right now it was ruinously frustrating, even though Kylin could remember having had the same idea a short while earlier. Something about keeping her at a distance rather than enticing her closer, making her demand to have what she believed she wasn't being allowed. Deny a Blade often enough and long enough, they said, and you're asking to be carried off. That usually referred to male Blades with women, but maybe it could be made to work the other way, too.
"But I can't quite picture her carrying me off," Kylin murmured with a wide grin, then he laughed aloud. "If she tried she'd hurt herself, and I can't have my wife hurting herself. We'll have to keep it from going that far, but there's no reason not to take it to that point. It might even do her some good, finding out what a man usually goes through."
For some reason the idea really tickled him, and that despite the trouble he was bound to have because of it. Nothing involving Tisah ever went smooth and easy, he was learning, but a lot of that had to do with her beliefs and desires. If he managed to redirect her beliefs and desires - got her fighting for rather than against him - made her determined to win him no matter what she had to do -
"Sure, determined to win me," he murmured with a chuckle that faded to a sigh. That would be the day, but it made one of the most attractive pictures his mind had ever drawn. He sat for a while with his knees up and his arms hanging from them, thinking about how it would feel if the woman he loved ever did try her hardest to win him, and the smile on his face was a wistful one filled with an extra touch of longing. After a few moments he banished the scene with a deep breath and got up to wash, but the wistful smile stayed with him.
Kylin had managed to do a fair job of washing in the basin and was drying himself with the room's extra blanket when a knock came at his door. This time he didn't have to worry about looking for his trousers, but the memory of his last visitor put a cautious edge in his voice when he called out, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Sofaltis," came the surprising answer, causing his brows to rise. "May I come in and talk to you, Kylin?"
"I think I suddenly feel like a fly," Kylin muttered under his breath with a grin, then realized that grinning wasn't the proper expression for a fly. If he wanted to lure the spider into his territory, he'd have to try his solemn best to escape her. Rearranging his features into neutrality wasn't easy, but when he opened the door that was all his face showed - or so he fervently hoped.
"Oh, did I come at a bad time?" the girl asked when she saw him, a politeness that didn't quite cover the fact that she apparently had no intentions of leaving again. "Have I interrupted you in the middle of dressing?"
"Actually I was washing," Kylin answered, turning to walk back toward the basin just to see what she would do. "Is what you wanted to talk about important?"
"Well, I think it is," she replied, and from the sound of her voice she was already in the room. "I wanted to apologize for letting you get the wrong impression this morning, and also for letting you walk away believing it was true. I give you my word that it isn't you who's making me shy away from the arrangement my father's insisting on. I would have done the same even if it was the king or Evon himself in your place."
"I appreciate having your word on the matter, but I can't rid myself of the feeling that you're just trying to be kind," Kylin said with a sigh, still drying himself as he turned slowly and casually. What he saw was that she was not only in the room, but the door had also been closed and she now leaned against it. No doubt about it, Galena had some lessons to learn concerning the smoothest way to begin springing the trap.
"I appreciate the kindness," Kylin continued, hoping she didn't notice he was repeating himself, "but I'm a big boy and I can handle the truth. I may not like it, but I can certainly handle it."
"The only truth you have to handle is the fact that I'm telling the truth," she assured him earnestly, stepping toward him just a little to emphasize her words. "Lying to you would be cruel, Kylin, and I never pictured myself as being cruel. Is that the way you see me?"
"No, I don't think of you as cruel," he allowed, on the other hand not allowing the artfully faint hurt in her gray eyes to draw him to her. "You don't enjoy giving people pain, not unless you're convinced they deserve it. I still remember the time you thought I deserved it, and supplied it with a length of firewood across the back of my skull. When I woke up to find you'd taken my money and left, I could have cheerfully strangled you."
"I thought I was getting an enemy out of my way," she said, looking as though she wanted to shrug even though she was trying to look contrite. "Since you weren't really an enemy I can understand how you must feel, and I have to admit I owe you for that. If you still feel like strangling me, go ahead and do it."
Kylin couldn't help noticing that her smile was inviting him to share the joke, that she knew with absolute certainty that he would never really strangle her. The offer had given her a reason to move even closer to him, though, and she stood there looking up at him in a way that repeated the words go ahead as an open invitation. Yes, she knew men a lot better than Galena did, and Kylin found himself so ready to accept the invitation that he had to clear his throat and move away from the path of temptation.
"Oh, I stopped being angry as soon as I found out why you'd been behaving like that," he said, dismissing the point as he walked past the girl and over to his bed to sit down, tossing aside the extra blanket as he went. "I would have been a lot harder on someone I thought was an enemy, so I can't very well complain about being abused. It's this business with the war and all the secret treachery that's got everyone acting so crazy, and there's no end in sight."
"I've been thinking about that, and I've come up with a couple of ideas I just may decide to pursue," she said, letting his comments about the war distract her so far that she automatically followed Kylin and casually sat herself beside him to his right. "No Blade ever won a fight by doing nothing but defending, and wars aren't won that way either. Prince Traffis and Nimram are doing anything they please because nobody's taking the trouble to distract them with the sort of nonsense they're distracting us with. I think somebody ought to do something to change that."
"Like what?" Kylin asked, working to keep the frown off his face. His Tisah seemed to have something in mind, but if he demanded to know what it was, she'd set that smooth-skinned jaw and refuse to tell him.
"Oh, I don't know, something to make them worry about their necks, I guess," she answered, giving him a smile with her shrug. "It isn't as if I've made any plans or anything, it was just an idea. If something does come to me, though, I'll probably need a few friends to help make it work. If you like, I'll include you in on the group - if you can stand the idea of being friends with me. I'd like to have us be friends, but after the way I've treated you you'd have every right to decide otherwise."
"I've heard it said that you can never have too many friends," Kylin commented, wasting time while he thought fast. The little hellion was lying to him about not having anything specific in mind, he could see that from the direct way she looked at him, but she was also doing more. She was baiting her hook with the possibility of action that he would be included in on if he agreed to the idea of friendship, but that was all she offered. Friends or nothing, and if friends, only that. She still deliberately ignored the possibility that there could ever be anything else between them, a specific anything that she would have no choice about.
Kylin rubbed his face and smiled vaguely at her, but what he really wanted to do was turn her over his knee and beat some sense into her. She did want him as badly as he wanted her, so why the hell couldn't she just admit it and let them go on from there? Why in Evon's name did she have to -
"I know I would enjoy being friends with you, but all that doubt I feel is making me hesitate," Kylin said at last, refusing to let his anger and impatience force him into doing or saying the wrong thing. "If you feel insulted and withdraw the offer I can't blame you, so - "
"No, no, I'm not feeling insulted," she hurriedly assured him, smiling again to prove the point. "You've been given more than enough reason to doubt my intentions and attitudes, so take all the time you need to think about it. I really want you to."
The very sincere look she gave him was accompanied by the touch of her right hand to his bare right arm, and once again Kylin was forced to admire her tactics. In her place he would probably have gone for an arm around her shoulders, but he tended to rush things more than she obviously considered wise. Besides, her arm around his shoulders, possibly while she whispered in his ear - He quickly gave her a warm smile of gratitude, primarily to keep himself from laughing in her face.
"At least I'm glad to see that you're not feeling so terribly unhappy any longer," she said, the hand on his arm something she seemed to have forgotten about. "I was feeling awful myself, but we've both got to remember that none of this mess is our fault. It's everyone else who's been sticking fingers in our lives, and we ought to stand together and tell them where to put their interference. We didn't do badly the couple of times we fought beside one another rather than with each other, so don't you think we could accomplish things like that?"
"Oh, we probably could accomplish quite a lot together," Kylin granted, suddenly too aware of how close she leaned and uncomfortably wondering what she intended to do next. He could feel the heat of her hand on his arm, smell the soap-clean of her hair and clothing, almost sense the whisper of her breath on his cheek…
"Well, we certainly accomplished some things together," she said with a soft laugh, pleasant memory dancing brightly in her beautiful gray eyes. "We did some riding and we did some walking, and we must have set a record for uninterrupted arguing. But I wonder if any other two people ever managed to set a cave on fire."
Her last words were breathed rather than spoken, her hand stroked his arm rather than held it, and with one leg bent under her, her lips, teeth, and tongue were able to reach his right ear. Kylin, who had looked away from her in an effort to get a better grip on himself, found out about her accomplishment the hard way. One instant he simply fought with his self control, and the next her tongue was tickling the inside of his ear, a prelude for her teeth to close gently on the lobe.
"Stop that!" Kylin said wildly, pulling away from her to get quickly to his feet. If he hadn't he would have grabbed her and torn her clothes off, and that wasn't what he wanted to do. It was what he wanted to do, damn it, but it wasn't what he could allow. If he gave in now he'd lose everything, so the ache in his body had to be ignored.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" he managed to huff once he'd put some blessed distance between them.
"If you don't know, I guess I wasn't doing it right," she said, looking at him in a very odd way, her leg still bent under her where she sat. "I thought you might want to - I mean, it's not as if we've never - I guess you don't want to spend a little time with me after all. I've embarrassed you and made a fool of myself, and all I can do now is apologize and get out of your way. I didn't mean to try forcing something on you that you find so distasteful. Please accept my assurance that it won't happen again."
By that time she was on her feet and no longer looking at him, and the hurt all through her was like knives tearing at Kylin's insides. He wanted desperately to pull her into his arms, swear to her that everything would be all right and then make it right, but he still couldn't do it. He had to find the best future path for them both, and couldn't afford to listen to the screams of his desire.
"You're not being fair," he said as she turned toward the door, stopping her with surprise as he couldn't have done in almost any other way. "You were the one who said you didn't want me, and now that I've made myself accept that you're trying to change your mind? Don't you care what you do to me?"
"I never said I didn't want you," she protested, turning to look at him with large, tragic eyes. "I said I didn't want what my father wanted, and that hasn't changed. Some people just aren't meant to settle down in one place with one person, and if I didn't tell you that then I would be acting unfairly. I won't make any promises I can't keep, Kylin, but I didn't think that meant we couldn't - "
"Fool around a little until you decided it was time for you to move on?" he asked when her words broke off, folding his arms as he kept his face absolutely expressionless. "And that's your idea of being fair with someone who's told you he wants marriage? I won't try to claim I haven't done my own share of fooling around, but the time comes when that simply isn't enough. Right now I want more, but you've made it very clear that you don't. Since I have no intention of changing my mind, I'll appreciate it if you don't try to take advantage of me again. Whatever I do in that area rightfully belongs to my future wife."
"Of course," she whispered, those wide gray eyes briefly on his face before she turned away again. "It - never occurred to me to look at it like - I'll certainly remember for - "
That time she made it to the door and out, and Kylin was finally able to sit on the bed again and bury his face in his hands. His whole body trembled as though he'd almost reached the end of his strength, and strangely enough he felt nearly played out. More than once in his life he'd killed men, but even that ultimate destruction had never drained him the way simple conversation with Tisah usually did. What was it about her…?
"Possibly the fact that with her, even conversation is never simple," he muttered into his hands, still unwilling to look again at the room she no longer brightened with her presence. "I'm now committed to not touching her again unless she agrees to be my wife, which was something I'd only intended to hint at, not promise. Is this what women have to go through with men who won't settle down? If it is, how do they stand it? And what the hell sort of scatterbrained plan has she decided on for getting rid of Prince Traffis or Nimram? Damn that female!"
Instead of jumping up and pacing Kylin closed his eyes and lay back, trying to gather strength rather than work off nervous energy he'd already been drained of. What effect, if any, his speech of righteousness would have on Tisah remained to be seen, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that she was certain to jump in a direction he wasn't anticipating.
And what would he do if she found out she was his wife before any of her attitudes could change? The possibility turned him cold both inside and out, but unless Evon intervened it could happen. The game would be lost for good and ever then, and even if she didn't immediately disappear, what would their life together be like?
Kylin cursed himself for a fool for not telling her the truth, but the truth wouldn't have been any better than the lie he was now stuck with. Bleed if you do, bleed if you don't, the old saying went, and it certainly wasn't kidding. Kylin was willing to bleed for the things he considered most important, but how long was it supposed to go on?
"Blessed Evon, will I have the strength to outlast it?" he whispered, already flinching at the thought of having to see her again at supper but still not being able to touch her. "Will I have the strength to outlast her…?"
It seemed to take forever until I was back in my room, but once I got the door closed I stood there leaning against it with my eyes closed. Of all the horrible, awful experiences - !
"Well, now you know what it's like to be told to get lost," I muttered to myself. "And it's just as unpleasant as everyone says. Talk about an effective cure for believing in dreams…"
I left the door to walk to my bed and sit, paying no attention to how dim the room had grown with the approach of night. Kylin's room had been dim, too, but not dim enough…
"I don't understand why he did that," I whispered to the empty room, wishing it could somehow explain things to me. "It was only a matter of days ago that he wanted me, but now - "
Now he didn't even want me to touch him. He'd pulled away faster than he would have in his role as a Flower, and if he'd been lying he ought to take up acting as his life work. He really didn't want me to touch him.
But why not? a part of me asked, understanding that even less than the rest. If he's lost all interest in me, why should being touched bother him? And more than bother him, judging from the way he jumped up to get distance between us. He wasn't disgusted by what I did, it was more like shock and upset that sent him flying. He was shocked by the unexpectedness of the move, and upset by - what?
I pulled my legs up onto the bed and crossed them, leaned my elbows on my knees and my chin in my palms, then stared into the empty air that wasn't giving me any answers. Kylin had said I was being unfair, trying to lure him into fooling around when I knew very well that it was marriage he wanted rather than dabbling. His efforts and … abilities were supposedly being reserved for his future wife, but what future wife? Since Traixe and two House Fighters were riding with him in a combined effort to find me, even my father hadn't been told that Kylin had accepted my refusal.
So he couldn't possibly have found anyone yet to be his wife, or if the woman was someone he had known before coming south, he couldn't have asked her yet. He had seemed to be claiming that he was saving himself, but what if he didn't get back to wherever he'd left her for another year or more? Those of us who were Blades liked to joke about King's Fighters and their sexual activities and preferences, but the fact was they were just like us in both areas: as often as possible with acceptable members of the opposite sex. If the delay did turn out to be a year or more, did Kylin expect that he'd be able to wait? When he couldn't even hold off three days at the time he considered himself betrothed to me?
And why would he want to save himself anyway? He certainly hadn't done it up until now, so why the sudden decision in favor of virtue? He couldn't deliver an unsullied male soul to his future wife no matter how long he abstained, and what sort of woman would be empty-headed enough to want one even if he could? If you happen to be the sort who enjoys the idea of marriage, wouldn't you want your husband to do his dallying before the ceremony rather than after?
I ran my hands through my hair, trying to figure out what I was missing, but seeing it wasn't easy. Kylin had a mysterious future wife he was saving himself for, and he especially wanted to save himself from the woman who was supposed to have been his wife. Since we had already spent bed time with each other he couldn't be trying to make sure it didn't happen to begin with, so what was he trying to do? Keep himself from becoming contaminated or something? By what? What could he possibly catch from me that -
Suddenly I sat up straight, an idea having come that was both very possible and highly amusing. The one disease I'd been trying very hard to spread around was the concept of personal freedom, liberty from the chains of the unreasonable demands of others. Kylin was one of those who were bound by those chains - he'd said so himself! - and was convinced there was no escaping them. Or at least he had been convinced, but now might be suffering from the birth pangs of doubt - caused by me!
I grinned into the room's dimness, finally seeing how well that explanation fit. He knew I was right in trying to fight my way out of that mess, and the basic idea of it was beginning to attract him. He wanted to follow me into freedom where we could enjoy each other without anyone else being involved, but a misguided sense of duty and an unconscious belief that it wasn't possible to win kept him from trying it. He'd decided to keep me at arm's length to make sure he wasn't tempted beyond his ability to resist, and that was why he'd refused me! If he let me come close the way he wanted me to, he knew he would lose the fight!
"That poor baby," I said with a soft laugh, really feeling very sorry for him. Kylin had just as much of a right to be free as I did, and if he didn't have the necessary strength to free himself, I owed him whatever help I could give. Even if he thought he didn't want my help. Even if he tried to fight accepting it.
"After it's done he may even decide to leave the country with me," I murmured, getting up to light one of the lamps on the wall. "Good fighters never have trouble finding hire, so we certainly won't starve. And after a little while I can have word sent back to my father that I'm dead, and then he'll be free to do whatever's necessary about the duchy. But before I leave I'll have to take care of that Nimram in some permanent way, to be certain he doesn't cause my family any more trouble. With him gone Prince Traffis will probably fold, and then the country can go back to being at peace."
I paused briefly after lighting the lamp, pleased with the definite plans I'd made. No maybes and no ifs, all sure and completely what I wanted. I was certain Kaffa would also be pleased, especially since I wasn't finished. I would have to start working on Kylin at supper, and if I did well enough he would find some reason for Traixe and him and the others to continue hanging around. If, instead, he really was serious about saving himself for a wife, he and the others would leave in the morning to take my father the word that the betrothal was off. One action or the other, and the meaning of each would be perfectly clear.
It's possible I began to hum as I moved around the room, getting ready for sundown and supper, but I was too deeply into plans and thoughts to really notice.
"It doesn't feel much like spring up here once the sun goes down," Foist commented, reaching his hands closer to the fire they all sat around. "Are you sure this is where we want to be, Rull? There hasn't been a single sign or trace of Softy since before we started riding on rock."
"She headed up into the mountains, so we're heading up into the mountains," Rull said, staring into the strengthening dark beyond the fire's domain. "I said that yesterday and I said it this morning, and I'll repeat it every hour if you want me to. If any of you get tired of hearing it you can turn around and leave, but I'm going on. She's up there and riding into trouble, and when she needs me I'm going to be there."
Jak saw Foist and Ham exchanging worried looks, but not because they intended to take Rull up on his offer to let them leave. It was impossible not to notice that their Fist leader was a good deal more … intense than he'd been, and in a very odd way. He was clearly no longer hoping he would find Softy, he was now convinced that he would. He also somehow seemed … dreamlike in his intensity, but not unsure. Despite the lack of sign he led them upward into the mountains without hesitation, as though he were following a map they hadn't been allowed to see.
"I think we'd better eat now," Jak said, taking his eyes away from his Fistmates. "Since I have second watch, I'd like to get some sleep before I'm called. And if Softy is going to need us, we'd all better get what sleep we can."
Foist and Ham muttered something in agreement and began to get to their feet, but Rull just sat where he was, staring out into the dark. It was two days since they'd last trusted him to stand a watch, but he hadn't noticed. The old Rull would have chewed their ears off for passing over him like that, but now? Not a word.
Jak sighed and also got to his feet, hoping things would somehow work out. Rull was in for a big disappointment when - and if - he found Softy, but maybe the cold truth would snap him out of whatever fog he floated in. They all knew it had better, or Rull would never survive the fight he thought he saw ahead of them. Which might, with nothing else changing, turn out to be for the best for all of them…
Kylin actually flinched when the knock came at his door, and it took a moment or two before he was able to go over and see who it was this time. The sight of Traixe standing outside was more of a relief than Kylin would have been willing to admit, but the older Fighter's keen eyes spotted something anyway.
"My lord, are you all right?" Traixe asked as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "For an instant there I thought you looked…"
"Hunted?" Kylin asked with a grimace, finishing the sentence when the other man didn't. "Traixe, you haven't any idea what's been going on here, otherwise you would have congratulated me for getting up the nerve to open the door in the first place. When I first became a man, I was actually foolish enough to believe that having attractive women parading in and out of my room would be fun."
"That's not foolishness," Traixe said, hiding all trace of the amusement he must have felt except for the abrupt glint in his eyes. "That's simply the point of view of a man without commitments. From your use of the word 'women,' am I to assume that your … visitors really were plural?"
"Too plural," Kylin replied sourly, then gestured Traixe to the chair before beginning an abbreviated summary of that afternoon's happenings. When he reached the end he added, "So you see why Tisah's visit was even harder on me than it would have normally been. First I dream about her, then I turn down another girl because of the dream, and then I turn her down in order to make my plan work. If this doesn't turn out the way I want it to, I just may strangle her after all."
"Just think how lucky some men are, having to do nothing more than kill a dragon or two to win their ladies over," Traixe murmured, rubbing at his lips with one finger. "I thought I was being taken advantage of when I had to best my future father-in-law's champion in order to gain his consent for my marriage to his daughter, but I was getting off easy, wasn't I?"
"Traixe, I'm not in the mood to be laughed at," Kylin said very softly, and Traixe immediately noticed a very sharp edge to the younger man's voice, not to mention the fact that his eyes were beginning to change color. "I told you about this to explain why I'll be acting distant with Tisah, not to give everyone a good chuckle. I thought I'd enjoy keeping her at arm's distance for a change, but that just goes to show how thickheaded I was being. It hadn't occurred to me that I'd be at the same distance from her."
"My lord, I was offering commiseration, not insult," Traixe assured him at once, this time doing a more thorough job of covering up all traces of laughter. "What I meant to add was that my lady wife has always made me feel my efforts at winning her were more than worthwhile. I'm sure Sofaltis will one day do the same for you."
"I dare you to look me straight in the eye and repeat that," Kylin challenged, stopping his pacing in mid step to look directly at Traixe. "If Tisah ever agrees to be my wife, it's nine chances in ten that she'll have been forced into it somehow. If she is forced into it, it's nine chances in ten that she'll blame me for her capture. If she does blame me, it's nine chances in ten that she'll dedicate her life to evening the score. Where does making everything seem worthwhile fit into that?"
"Forgive me, Lord Kylin, but there's a question I have to ask," Traixe said, meeting the frustrated anger in the younger man's eyes. "If it all seems so hopeless to you, why are you keeping on with it? I'm sure His Grace your father would understand your difficulties and forgive you for calling off the marriage, and even Duke Rilfe would be forced to agree. Being unable to provide you with a bride for your wedding night means he would have to agree, his preferences notwithstanding. Why don't you go back to Gensea, tell the duke you couldn't find Sofaltis, then apply for an annulment of the marriage? By tomorrow morning I'm sure she'll be gone again anyway, so there will be enough truth in your stance to make it valid. Considering what you've gone through, I'm even willing to support your word."
Kylin met the unwavering stare holding to his face, but Traixe noticed there weren't any words coming from him. Possibly he'd been taken by surprise at Traixe's offer of support, but the Fighter didn't think so. There was something else keeping Kylin from answering, but in another moment he'd worked his way around it.
"I can't, in all honor, leave Duke Rilfe without an heir," the young King's Fighter got out, his tone now striving for calm reason. "If he wasn't beset, if Traffis and Nimram didn't have something dangerous in mind for him - "
"Excuse me, my lord, but that simply raises another question," Traixe interrupted, getting to his feet to face the other man more directly. "If it's Duke Rilfe and his need for an heir that disturbs you, there's a ready answer to that problem, too. You've already been named his heir, as well as married to his daughter. If you choose to return to Gensea without your wife, even the duke has no right to disapprove. What your wife does is your decision, no one else's, so if you decide to let her ride away no one will be able to comment. Sofaltis herself would approve, and I think we all know it. What about that as an alternative?"
Kylin began to say something, changed his mind, then brushed past Traixe to walk to the window and look out. The room lamp was lit inside to keep the darkness at bay, but outside Traixe knew there was nothing but the stars, that and campfires so far below that they might as well have been stars themselves.
"It's Sofaltis you want, isn't it, my lord?" Traixe's voice followed Kylin, refusing to accept the dismissal of silence. "The heirship itself means nothing to you, not unless you can share it with her. You don't believe she'll ever be yours, but you refuse to give up trying."
"And how big a fool does that make me, Traixe?" Kylin asked, his voice lifeless with the absence of hope. "All this plotting and planning I've been doing, all this cleverly designed manipulation… It won't work, not any of it, and in the end she'll just ride away from me. If I let her."
"Keeping her from riding away may not be the worst of ideas," Traixe offered, fighting to keep his own voice free of pity. If he'd had to choose between losing his beloved and holding her against her will…! "She's too headstrong for her own good, you know, and dragging her back to Gensea could save her life. We don't know why Nimram wants her, but simply knowing that he does means we should do everything in our power to keep her out of his hands. She may not like the idea of being protected, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't be."
"Thank you, my friend," Kylin said, turning from the window with a faint smile. "I appreciate your trying to help, but if I decide to hold my wife captive I'll put it like that, not try to dress up the act in pretty excuses. I'm usually willing to take responsibility for what I do, but this is one time I don't have to worry about it. My wife will hold me responsible, even if no one else does."
"Possibly, my lord, things will work out better than you expect," Traixe mused, mainly to keep from offering his condolences to the younger man. "You said Sofaltis tried to seduce you, and even went so far as to come to your room to do it? Considering the circumstances I'd say she had more than a mild interest in you if she went that far, so your plan may be based on more than desperate hope. If she decides she wants you badly enough, she'll have to change her mind about being your wife."
"At the moment she may be changing her mind about being interested in me," Kylin said morosely, pacing to the bed but not sitting. "I hurt her when I said I didn't want her to touch me, and she was badly confused when I told her the only one I wanted to take in my arms was my future wife. She was not only embarrassed, she didn't seem to understand why I felt that way."
"Women tend to think all men have only one thing in mind," Traixe said with a very faint smile. "They're not completely wrong, of course, but what they fail to see is that only some of us don't care who they do that one thing with. The rest of us are extremely particular, and will often refuse rather than pair with the wrong woman. As a Blade, Sofaltis must not have run into refusal very often."
"Well, she'd better run into it from now on," Kylin growled, looking at Traixe with hard, distracted eyes. "At least with all men who aren't me. I've learned to be generous with most things, but sharing my wife is another matter entirely. All I can hope is that she'll continue in character, and decide to go after what she's been refused. I as much as ordered her to find someone else, which should trigger her stubbornness to do the exact opposite. If it doesn't, well, here in the mountains I won't be facing anyone who isn't better than average with a blade."
"We'll have to ask Evon to see that it doesn't come to that," Traixe said, privately intending to do a little more than just ask. If that hellion ever did try to take up with another man, Traixe knew he would not enjoy seeing the resulting carnage. "Right now I think we ought to see if our supper is ready yet. Since I slept through lunch I'm ready to eat half a bear, fur and all."
"I could use a bite or two myself," Kylin grudged, turning to get his swordbelt from the table on which it lay. "And by the way, there's something else you should know. Our soft and gentle Blade has gotten it into her head that what Nimram and Traffis need is someone giving them the kind of grief they've been giving others. When I tried to find out exactly what she had in mind, she laughed and told me she had nothing in mind. Am I wrong in believing that means she has her plans made, and they don't include us?"
"I'm afraid that's exactly what it means," Traixe said with an inner groan as well as an outer one. "When she was small she always enjoyed having secrets, which means she's had plenty of practice in keeping them to herself. We'll have to watch her very closely, to make sure she doesn't slip away again."
"If she tries I'll just have to haul her in," Kylin said with a sigh, stopping next to Traixe and shaking his head. "I'd like to give my plan a chance to work, but not at the expense of risking her life. I don't want her near Nimram for any reason. I get a chill down my back just thinking about it."
"As do I," Traixe agreed in a mutter, stepping forward to open the door. "I'm beginning to believe it's a warning from Evon, and ignoring warnings isn't wise - especially not that kind. If Nimram does get her - "
"He won't," Kylin interrupted with calm assurance, walking through the door Traixe held open. "Not while I live, my friend, not while I live."
Traixe silently followed Kylin out, trying to feel reassured at the vow he'd just been given. He knew it was true, that the words hadn't simply been said, but he still felt bothered. Kylin would stake his life on his ability to protect Sofaltis and that life would not be easy to take, but what if it was lost, what if -
Kylin led the way to the room that had been designated as their temporary dining room, Traixe following broodingly quiet behind him. The door of the room stood open, and Kylin paused just inside to look around. Instead of it being the same sort of small bedroom as his own room, it had obviously been some sort of sitting room and was double sized and L-shaped.
One long table at which they were probably supposed to eat already stood to the right of the door, and the completely cleared space of the area around it said there were more tables to come. There was no real food in sight yet, but there were two trays on a small table over to the left, where the other leg of the L began. One of the trays had a pitcher of what smelled like wine that was surrounded by cups, and the second had a number of platters filled with nibble food.
"We might as well start with what's on that tray," Kylin said to Traixe over his shoulder, then began to lead the way again. "It looks like it's going to be a while before the food is brought, unless we're expected to take turns at that table or sit in each other's laps."
"With no chairs for the table, lap-sitting is out unless we do it on the floor," Traixe observed, looking around as he moved after Kylin. "Those chairs pushed back against the wall aren't eating chairs, they're too skinny and frail looking. I wonder what they are used for."
"Maybe they're for people who want to stay awake," Kylin suggested, helping himself to a small chicken leg while Traixe stepped past him to the wine tray. "If you ever fell asleep on one of those, you'd be on the floor in a double eyeblink. And speaking of falling asleep, you don't think that's where your two Fighters are, do you? They should be here by now unless they have fallen back asleep."
"If they aren't here by the time the food arrives, I'll check on them," Traixe said, handing to Kylin one of the two cups of wine he'd poured. Taking it with a nod of thanks, Kylin suddenly noticed that all concern was unnecessary. Two inn boys were in the process of maneuvering another eating table in through the doorway, and just behind them were the two Fighters, each one carrying a chair big enough to take a pleasant meal in. Kylin saw Traixe smiling in amusement, but he himself felt more like sighing. Those chairs were undoubtedly meant for Tisah and himself, brought by the Fighters so that their nobles would not have to stand around or sit on lumpy couches.
And as if on cue, that was when Tisah appeared in the doorway, her immediate attention on the furniture being moved in. Kylin quickly shifted his gaze to a badly done painting on the wall, at the same time taking a fortifying swallow of his wine, a bracing aid that he suddenly needed. His woman no longer looked as hurt and vulnerable as she had, but acting cold to her was going to take something of an effort…
"Oh, good evening, Traixe," he heard her say as she came up to them. "It looks like supper will be delayed until they finish rearranging the furniture. With that in view, I think I'll help empty that tray of edibles over there. After having slept through lunch, I don't even care if what they provided is raw."
"While you're choosing something, I'll pour you a cup of wine, Sofaltis," Traixe said, moving behind Kylin to get back to the pitcher. "I wasn't expecting much from this wine, but it's surprisingly good."
Tisah made a sound of agreement as she moved to the food tray in front of Kylin, happily seeing nothing of the way he struggled to keep quiet. He was remembering that he hadn't been able to coax the wretched girl into eating any breakfast, and now he heard that she'd missed lunch as well! Under almost any other circumstances he would have given her a lecture designed to singe her ears, but at this particular time…
And then he noticed something that made his position even worse. The girl was directly in front of him, wearing the black trousers and green shirt she'd had on earlier, but looking over her shoulder showed him that the shirt wasn't buttoned quite as high as he remembered. Creamy flesh led too far down into the opening of the shirt, and Kylin could almost feel himself going pale. He was suddenly remembering the dream he'd had, and feeling again her tongue and teeth in his ear… The fact that he didn't immediately burst into flames had to be the miracle of the century.
"Oh, excuse me, Lord Kylin," he heard through the odd ringing in his ears, and then he realized that the girl had backed into him after choosing a chicken leg from the food tray. She glanced up at him with a distant but somehow very warm smile, but before he could babble something about his also having a chicken leg, she turned her full attention elsewhere.
"Thank you, Traixe," she said, taking the cup he handed her with a much nicer smile. "And by the way, I meant to tell you this morning how good it is to see you back in full health again. I was afraid that those traitors had really hurt you, but happily they were as inept at hurting as they were at thinking and fighting."
"I've made sure to thank Evon for his help in that area," Traixe answered with a smile of his own, obviously having no intention of going into greater detail about his healing. "Without Evon's help I couldn't have come along on this chase, which I sincerely hope is now over. I'd prefer - Just a moment. Did I hear you say Lord Kylin?"
"Of course," she replied with adorable bewilderment, a very expressive shrug accompanying the words and look. "I've been told that overfamiliarity is terribly bad manners, so I'm trying to correct the fault. And of course the chase is over. Tomorrow you and Lord Kylin will go back to Gensea, and I'll be staying here to visit with a friend."
"Visit with a friend," Traixe echoed, his sigh containing unspoken volumes. "Sofaltis, how do you expect us to go back to your father without you? Are we supposed to tell him that we did find you, but you wanted to visit a friend so we returned alone? Have you any idea what he would say and do if we were insane enough to try something like that?"
"I'm sure he would have quite a lot to say, but what could he do?" she asked with a laugh, pausing briefly to lick at the coating on the chicken leg she held. "Mmmm, this is good. But seriously, Traixe, there wouldn't be anything for my father to do. He certainly isn't going to cause you any harm, and Lord Kylin won't be there long enough even to be discomfited. He wants to get married, so he'll have to leave Gensea almost immediately."
Traixe's expression shifted through one full spectrum at the very least, and Kylin knew just how he felt although for a different reason. The girl was eating her chicken leg almost under his nose, and for some reason that very ordinary act was beginning to make him unbearably aroused. She had also shifted closer to him, which meant her long brown hair kept brushing his hand, and he couldn't seem to drag himself back out of the way.
"I'm sure you understand how a man feels when he's looking forward to getting married, Traixe," she went on, apparently noticing nothing in the way of reactions in the men nearest her. "Lord Kylin wants to be true to his future wife, so he's going to keep himself celibate until he's married. No night house girls, no passing strangers, no soft curves held up against his hardness, no physical relief at all until he reaches the woman's side and makes her his. The longer it takes the more he'll be suffering, so he'll certainly have to…"
Kylin couldn't bear to keep listening, so he finished his wine in one long swallow, then stalked around Traixe to reach the pitcher for a refill. His untasted chicken leg got tossed onto the wine tray, no longer of any interest to a man who was struggling with hunger of another sort. Not to mention a seething anger that was growing as high as the flames that were trying to consume him.
She was doing it on purpose! She had decided to play some sort of game with him, and was tormenting him on purpose! How she'd gone from hurt and confused to laughingly determined Kylin had no idea, but he wasn't innocent enough to believe that what she was doing was all an accident. Her unbuttoned shirt, the way she'd "unknowingly" backed into him, all that talk about what he wouldn't be having until he was married - Every bit of it was deliberate, and calculated to do - What?
"Lord Kylin, are you all right?" Traixe asked from behind him, a real concern to be heard in the words. "You left the conversation so abruptly…"
"I wasn't part of the conversation, Traixe," Kylin pointed out without turning. "The lady was talking to you, so please go on with what you were discussing. I'm fine."
He tossed out the lie and left it behind him as he walked away, moving past the trays into the so-far-unoccupied part of the former sitting room. Even with a lamp lit on one of the walls the area was dim and blessedly empty, at least of other people. It was a damned good thing the inn didn't have any guests other than them, otherwise they would be in each other's laps.
Kylin shifted his sword forward before throwing himself down on the farthest couch, then stuck both legs out in front of him as he stared balefully down into his cup. It had just occurred to him that part of his plan was working, insofar as Tisah seemed determined to recapture his interest. But the way she was doing it wasn't the means he'd pictured. He'd had visions of her tearfully searching her soul, finally being forced to admit that she couldn't bear the thought of losing him, making the decision to tell him that she was prepared to try marriage after all…
"You really are a damn fool, aren't you?" he muttered to his dark red reflection in the wine, scowling at it and his naivete together. He'd gone so far as to specifically say he hoped she'd be stubborn enough to refuse to let him walk away, but all the while he'd been thinking "woman" instead of "Sofaltis." How many times did he need to be reminded that his Tisah was very much a woman, but totally unlike most of the rest of the breed? If she decided to get stubborn about something, there were no tears, no soul-searching…
Just determination to get her way, no matter what she had to try to do it. Kylin cursed himself under his breath again in a low growl, but only part of his anger was self directed. The rest belonged to Tisah, who had obviously decided that teasing him until he shattered would get her what she wanted. And that had to be a Blade's objective, not the usual aims of a woman. He'd lured a Blade into coming after him, one who was totally typical of the breed, one who wanted nothing more than to sweet-talk him into letting her into his blankets…
"I'll be damned if I will!" Kylin growled, fury making the decision steel-hard and just as unyielding. "If she wants me, the only way she'll get me is as my wife! What does she think I am, some overdressed little page so eager for her that I'll faint at the first touch of her hand? This time it's going to be my way, or else she can do without! And the next time she tries to brush up against me -!"
"Excuse me, my lord, but are you sure you're all right?" Traixe asked anxiously, and Kylin looked up to see the older man hovering in front of him. "I'm sure it was just my imagination, but you seemed to be talking to yourself…"
"The word isn't 'talking,' Traixe," Kylin corrected, the growl still so thick in his voice that the priest of Evon winced. "'Tongue-lashing' would be more descriptive, and it isn't over yet. Where did you leave things with that persistent hellion?"
Traixe was about to answer, but the arrival of the object of Kylin's question suddenly appeared beside Traixe to the right. She gave Kylin a glance filled with well-mannered concern, then put a hand on the older Fighter's arm.
"Traixe, is he all right?" she asked, gesturing toward Kylin with the cup of wine she held. "A moment ago he looked pale, and now he seems to be flushed. Maybe you ought to put him to bed."
"Sofaltis, who do you think you're fooling?" Traixe countered, and now it was apparently his turn to growl. "You're not worried about Lord Kylin you're trying to torture him, and I refuse to stand silent and watch it happen! I know Blades pride themselves on achieving whatever conquest they set their minds to, but this is one conquest you'll do without! You can't refuse to marry a man and still expect to enjoy his attention!"
"Why not?" the little minx asked in all innocence, looking up to meet the dark gaze of the man who was trying to lecture her. "Marriage is all sober seriousness and dreary duty, but fooling around is fun. Are you afraid to let Lord Kylin have a little fun, afraid he'll see the truth about the rest and walk off into freedom, leaving you without a victim? That would really be a shame, wouldn't it? Losing two souls to freedom rather than keeping them as victims? It could happen, Traixe, and you really ought to brace yourself in case it does."
She turned then to look briefly but directly at Kylin, gave Traixe a parting smile, then strolled away again. Kylin was so absorbed in watching her go that he didn't realize Traixe had sat down beside him until the priest of Evon spoke.
"I told the duke he should have listened to me, but he knew better," Traixe muttered bitterly. "If he'd let me tan her backside every time she tried to go her own way, we would not be facing a Blade intent on conquest right now. The very nerve of her! Strutting around laughing at the proper way of doing things, thumbing her nose at ladylike behavior! I hope you'll be wiser than the duke, my lord, and take my advice without - Lord Kylin, what is it?"
Kylin knew that Traixe was referring to the way he had let his head fall to the back of the couch and had closed his eyes, but for a moment he couldn't answer. He'd known it was possible for his situation to get worse, but he hadn't anticipated this particular direction.
"I think we have trouble, Traixe," Kylin said after the moment, fighting with himself to keep from laughing hysterically. "She's decided she wants me, all right, but she isn't considering marriage as the way to get me. She's decided to lure me after her into what she thinks of as freedom, the two of us running away together. It's a double seduction, Traixe, and she's expecting to win."
"My lord, you wouldn't!" Traixe blurted in deepest upset, sounding absolutely horrified. "You can't just abandon everything and everyone to follow after her, you simply can't! What would the duke say? What would your own father say?"
"They'd both probably wish they'd been given an opportunity like this," Kylin answered with a grin as he looked over at Traixe, then immediately regretted teasing the man. "Don't start thinking about exploding, my friend, I'm not abandoning the real world in favor of a fantasy dream. That Blade wants to carry me off to a wanderer's life, but my feet are too firmly planted in the traditional for me to enjoy it for more than a short while. After that I'd become dissatisfied, she would catch the disease from me, and not long after that our relationship would die. No, the only chance I have of keeping her for more than a little while is to make her try it my way, which will at least solve as many problems as it causes."
"Not to mention being easier on my digestion," Traixe grudged, obviously still too annoyed with Kylin to look or sound very friendly. "When I realized she was offering you exactly what you wanted, and you seemed to be ready to take it - ! You'll excuse me for saying this, my lord, but I was beginning to wonder if Duke Trame had used a heavy-enough hand when you were a boy. But at least there's one thing we can be thankful for."
"What's that?" Kylin asked, suppressing another grin as he sternly reminded himself not to tease Traixe again. The man was too far from being old for anyone to be safe teasing him, and Kylin didn't want to have to resort to weapons to keep himself from being dragged off to the woodshed right behind Tisah. The girl had been eroding Traixe's self control ever since that nonsense had started, and if Kylin didn't get her firmly in hand fast enough, she'd end up finding out how lucky she'd been to go unpunished during the years she'd spent in her father's house.
"We can be thankful, my lord, that you're as large as you are," Traixe said, and suddenly a grin appeared on his face. "If Sofaltis tries to carry you off she won't be able to move very fast, so I ought to be able to catch her before she gets away with you. Leaving you helpless in her clutches isn't something I'm prepared to do, so you needn't worry."
"Traixe, you're all heart," Kylin answered with a chuckle, sitting straight again to look more directly at the other man. "While I'm playing this game I'll probably need your protection, but that only goes for during the game. Afterward I expect to be left helpless in her clutches, and if I'm not, there will certainly be bloodshed. Make sure your Fighters understand that point as thoroughly as you do."
"As you say, my lord," Traixe acknowledged with a sober nod, but that didn't mean he wasn't laughing on the inside. "In the interim, how can I best protect you? Provide a blindfold? Wrap Sofaltis in a potato sack? Divert her attention while you make your escape?"
"That third suggestion is really tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to refuse," Kylin said, pausing to sip from his cup while he thought. "No, I can't very well run away if I want her to keep trying, but maybe we can work this another way. How about if I spend some time wavering with indecision, while you play stern and unrelenting bodyguard? That should encourage her without my having to commit to running away, and all you really have to do is make sure she doesn't get me alone. I refused her once, but I don't know if I can do it a second time."
"That should be no problem, my lord," Traixe said, a faint grin forcing its way through to his face. "A man who has daughters is used to doing things like that, especially if they're as pretty as my girls are. Although I must say, the experience will certainly be novel. When it came to my sons my presence was neither needed nor welcome, but compared to you they weren't quite as…"
"Traixe, if you say lovely I'll probably do something I'll later regret," Kylin pronounced softly, looking at the other man with a steady gaze. "That girl has me feeling like a shortly-to-be-cornered virgin, which means the grip on my temper is none too good. You don't want to reap what someone else has sown."
"Lord Kylin, you misjudge me," Traixe answered, clearly trying to sound and look wounded rather than vastly amused. "I was about to say that compared to you, my sons weren't quite as zealously hunted. The comment seemed rather appropriate, considering the fact that I seem to recognize that new arrival."
Kylin, resisting the sudden urge to groan, turned his head with no particular hurry to see what he already knew he would: Galena, helping to deliver the beginnings of their meal. The two Fighters and one of the boys had returned with another chair apiece, and the second boy, with Galena's help, was bringing soup and bread and bowls and table settings to get the diners started. The mountain girl was looking straight at him when he finally turned to see her, and she made sure to give him a clear wink and a grin before leaving with the boys to get the next items to be brought.
"At least Sofaltis didn't see that," Traixe muttered, his voice too low for Kylin to tell if he was still amused. "It hadn't occurred to me to wonder what she would do if she did see you approached, but now I'm afraid to wonder. High spirited women tend to make scenes; high spirited women who are also Fistmate Blades tend to make unmoving bodies."
"Don't be silly," Kylin began with a small, amused laugh. "Galena is a child, and Tisah would never - "
His laugh and the rest of his sentence left him together, the evicting force being the sight of Tisah's sword and the knowledge that Galena had one just like it. Even if Tisah didn't start the fight she could find herself in the middle of one, and if she did start it…
"I can see now that I never should have told Evon he had a terrible sense of timing," Kylin said hollowly, briefly closing his eyes. "I think he's now in the middle of showing me what terrible timing really is. Let's get started with our meal, Traixe. There's no guarantee I'll be given the time to finish it, and I'd like to eat as much as possible before the end comes. I have a feeling I'm going to need my strength."
Kylin rose to his feet with a sigh, took another swallow of his wine, then led the way toward the table being arranged by the two Fighters. Very briefly he felt the urge to sit at the table the Fighters hadn't done anything with, undoubtedly the table meant for the two of them. But that would have just complicated a situation that had no need of outside help. Traixe simply followed behind him as he'd been doing quite a lot lately, showing how really wise the priest of Evon was.
Tisah gave him a warm smile from where she stood watching the Fighters with amusement, also making no effort to send the two men on to their own meal. She sipped wine slowly until the table was finally in acceptable condition for nobility to sit at, and then she stepped closer as the Fighters moved away.
"Why don't you sit here, Lord Kylin?" she said in a very … offhand way, while at the same time moving the chair she touched a good two feet nearer her own chair. Those gray eyes looked up at Kylin, trying to turn his mind as smoky as they were, but his personal guard was right there on the job.
"Thank you for the suggestion, Sofaltis, but disarranging the table settings would hardly be a good idea," Traixe said immediately from Kylin's left, pulling the chair back to the place it had been. "Lord Kylin will be much more comfortable where he really belongs."
"I'm surprised at you, Traixe," Tisah said as she sat in her own chair, making no effort to wait until the two men were also seated. "I thought Fighters, like Blades, learned to be comfortable anywhere. I'm afraid you're starting to get old."
"I haven't the time to get old," Traixe answered with a bland smile for the girl, shifting his chair nearer the table. "There are still too many undisciplined little children around who need to be taught proper manners, with me the only one available to do it. When they grow up - if they ever do - then I'll be able to think about getting old."
"Oh, Traixe, that's really no way to talk about Lord Kylin," the little minx said with pretended shock, sending a widened gaze to the priest of Evon. "He isn't a little boy who simply has to accept being insulted, you know. If you'd said that to me, it probably would have made me start to think about how really good a Fighter you might be."
Traixe opened his mouth to retort, closed it again when he saw how closely the girl watched him, then he just glared at her. Kylin knew that Traixe had been about to say he hadn't meant Kylin, but then the older man had realized that Tisah was trying to trap him. If he said Tisah herself was the undisciplined child he'd meant, she might very well call him out. If he said he'd been referring to other people entirely, it would be the same as having been forced to retract his comment. Traixe was being pushed very hard, and Kylin knew he'd better get it stopped before there was real trouble.
"Now, Tisah, you know Traixe wasn't referring to me," Kylin said in a very … pious way, trying to lure the girl into going after him instead. "And I thought you wanted to improve your manners. Correcting a man older than yourself isn't the best way to do that."
"Excuse me, Lord Kylin, but I'm afraid you can't use that name for me," the girl came back at once, giving Kylin what he'd wanted but not in the way he'd expected. "Since there's no longer a betrothal between us - or anything else - you'll have to go back to calling me Sofaltis. Or Soft and Gentle, if you prefer, which is my Fist name."
She gave him one of those smiles with the command, and in spite of the fact that Kylin knew exactly what she was doing, he still felt suddenly furious that someone was taking something very precious away from him. Tisah was his name for her, and she had just informed him that with nothing at all between them he was no longer permitted to use it. He was that close to telling her she could try to force him to stop, even closer to telling her he would call his wife whatever he pleased, but once again his bodyguard saved him.
"You think Lord Kylin would compromise his beliefs for the privilege of using a name?" Traixe said to the girl, his amusement obvious and heavy. "Really, Sofaltis, desperation isn't at all attractive in a woman. If you want the man, the only way you'll get him is through marriage. And since you aren't his betrothed - or someone he has to be concerned over - he can call you anything he pleases."
"Possibly so, but that doesn't mean I have to answer," she returned, giving the two men such smug glances of satisfaction that Traixe frowned with lack of understanding. Kylin, however, watching her butter some bread before ladling out soup for her bowl, had no trouble understanding. Traixe had said Kylin could call her anything he pleased, but she knew that wasn't so. In Kylin's mind the full name was "my Tisah," something he hadn't realized she was aware of. Unless he did something to create a relationship between them, her challenge really said, he could never legitimately use the name again.
Kylin helped himself to his own bread and soup, but the silence he ate in was more brooding than digestive. To say Tisah was playing dirty was to comment on the overly obvious, and Kylin didn't like it one little bit. He'd never before worried about whether his opponents intended to play fair. His swordarm had always been quick enough to handle either sort of attack, his weapon sharp enough to settle the question without argument.
But now he couldn't use his sword, and his opponent was hitting him from behind every time he turned around to see where she was. He knew Tisah would never do that if they were using weapons, so what made her do it in this game? Didn't she know how dishonorable it was to twist a man around like that, to make him grit his teeth against giving her what her soft murmurings and caresses were demanding of him?
He raised his cup of wine and drank from it, self discipline alone keeping him from moving around in his chair. The only thing sustaining him just now was the knowledge that he could do as he pleased, that he could pull her out of her chair by one arm, throw her over his shoulder, carry her to his room, then take what circumstance had been refusing him. The Law was on his side and so was custom, and by Evon, if she hit him blindside one more time…!
"Well, some solid food at last," Traixe said, greeting the arrival of meat and vegetables with a smile of welcome. This time Kylin had no need to turn around, as Galena was quickly beside him to his left, leaning forward to put down the platter she'd been carrying. Her round behind wiggled as she adjusted things on the table that didn't need adjusting, the wiggling deliberately almost in Kylin's face, and that was very nearly the last straw. All females seemed to play the seduction game in the same way, and all he wanted to do was get even using their rules. How he could do that he didn't know, but with Evon's help he would think of something.
There was a limit to how long Galena could keep on wiggling, but her reaching the limit didn't mean Kylin was rid of her. She moved away but was back almost immediately, bringing the pitcher of wine that had been left on its tray. She very deliberately filled only Kylin's cup, set down the pitcher before licking away a drop of wine that ran down the outside of the cup, then slid it back onto the table as she slowly licked her own lips. After that she sauntered away, but the message of her continuing invitation had been very clear.
The fact of Traixe's giving him a bracing clap on the shoulder brought Kylin the awareness that he'd closed his hands around the chair arms in a death grip. He forced himself to release the hold with the help of a deep breath, but he didn't know how much more of that he could take. He wasn't used to denying himself the way he'd been doing, and having two willing and attractive females dangling themselves in his face wasn't helping in the least. If that game went on much longer, he'd have to take Traixe up on the offer of a blindfold…
Which thought reminded him of Tisah and what she might have seen, but turning his head quickly showed her deep in conversation with one of the serving boys. The boy was telling her something she listened to carefully, and when he finished and left she looked definitely satisfied.
"You look like you've just had some good news," Traixe observed to her, beating Kylin to the comment by no more than two heartbeats. "Would you be interested in sharing whatever it is?"
"It isn't anything much," Tisah answered as she reached for a slice of roast meat, glancing at Traixe with a smile. "The boy told me the meeting is almost over, so we won't have to go through this inconvenience for breakfast. He also said that Tophin wants to apologize for putting us through this by making any special favorites we might have for breakfast, so start thinking about what you'd like. As long as you make your choice tonight, you'll have it for the morning."
Traixe grunted acknowledgement of what she'd said without commenting, but his glance to Kylin showed he didn't believe her any more than Kylin did. They both knew she was up to something that involved matters she wasn't about to share, and once again Kylin could feel his teeth grinding together. If she thought he was about to let her ride off into some harebrained scheme without him there to fight beside her, she had a big surprise coming. And a good shaking, at least a good shaking. Maybe even being restricted to her apartments for a few days, in punishment for keeping secrets like a child. And maybe…
Kylin spent most of the balance of the meal picturing exactly what he would do to the girl if he caught her trying to sneak away from him, and the rest of the time considering what he would do to himself if she did manage to get away. He was so distracted he barely noticed Galena when she helped to bring the dessert, but that time she didn't have a chance to do much in the way of enticing. An older mountain woman entered the room only a pair of moments after the dessert-bearers, and her presence seemed to hurry the younger mountain dwellers out after their delivery had been put on the tables. Once they were gone, the woman approached Tisah on the right.
"It's all over, Softy, and you can congratulate me on how well I've learned diplomacy," the woman said, grinning down at Tisah. "As soon as you finish your meal, I'll tell you all about how brilliant I was."
"I can hardly wait," Tisah answered, looking up to return the woman's grin. "As soon as I wrap myself around some of that cake, we'll find another pitcher of wine and I'll be all yours. Have you eaten?"
"A while ago," the woman said with a nod. "The rest of it was just the last of them wranglin' over details. And you can forget about more wine. You remember what I said earlier about -"
"I remember, I remember," Tisah interrupted with a good-natured chuckle that somehow looked very deliberate. "Let's save it for later even without the wine."
"Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend, Sofaltis?" Traixe asked as the woman shrugged in agreement with Tisah's request cum order. "Is she the one you've come to visit?"
"Yes, she's the one," Tisah admitted after the briefest hesitation, then she smiled. "And I think sight of that cake has made me forget all about common courtesy. Kaffa, that handsome man over there is Lord Traixe, longtime advisor and friend to my father. He's also in charge of my father's Fighter guard, and those are two of his men at the other table. Traixe, this is my good friend Kaffa."
"Handsome men are always welcome in the mountains, at least in the opinion of the female half of the population," Kaffa said with a grin as Traixe rose and bowed. "Especially handsome men with such delightful manners. And the one closer to you? If you don't know who he is, Softy, I'll be glad to question him for you and find out."
"Sorry to disappoint you, sister, but I do know," Tisah answered with a wicked grin that nearly made Kylin flush. "He's Lord Kylin of the House of Torain, son of Duke Trame of Arthil. Now aren't you glad I saved you the trouble of having to find all that out? Lord Kylin, this is my very good friend Kaffa, who happens to be married no matter how single she sounds."
"A real friend wouldn't have told him that," the woman Kaffa said in an aside to a still-grinning Tisah, then she smiled brightly at Kylin. "You can ignore what she told you, since my husband is very understandin' and is also not here. And you can forget about anythin' else she says about me, because she's always had a problem handlin' wine. It's real nice meetin' you, Lord Kylin."
"The pleasure is mine, Lady Kaffa," Kylin answered, getting to his feet to take her proffered hand across Tisah. He also bent and kissed the hand, keeping his eyes on the woman, and was rewarded for his efforts with a faint blush in Kaffa's cheeks and a considerable lessening of Tisah's amusement. They'd been having their girlish fun with him, but he'd managed to turn it around on them.
"Yes, well, maybe we ought to find some place else to talk," Kaffa said in a fainter voice when she'd retrieved her hand, her smile now uncertain. "Men are such distractions, after all, especially courtly men."
"Oh, not Lord Kylin," Tisah said, and her gray eyes briefly bored holed in Kylin before she moved her gaze elsewhere. "Lord Kylin is only interested in women he can marry, so we're both perfectly safe from him. And I think I'll take a piece of this cake and a cup of wine with me, so you won't have to stand around waiting. We'll go to my room."
"We'll see you at breakfast, Sofaltis," Traixe said smoothly as Tisah rose to her feet, the slice of rich, beautiful cake wrapped quickly in the dinner cloth from beside her plate. "And it was very nice to meet you, Kaffa."
The woman smiled and nodded before following Tisah out of the room, and once they were gone Kylin looked at Traixe.
"She didn't agree about breakfast," Kylin pointed out, knowing he hadn't had to. "Part of what she's up to has to do with that woman, which I'm sure you noticed when she didn't let Kaffa speak in front of us. We can either try to listen at her door right now, or we can stand watches throughout the night to make sure she doesn't leave without us. Which do you think it ought to be?"
"The watches," Traixe answered after only a moment's consideration, his dark eyes showing annoyance. "We may not learn anything from listening, and if we're caught she'll be warned. I'll take first watch, my men second and third, and you - What can the blasted girl be up to?"
"It has to do with the trouble they're having here in the mountains," Kylin replied, fretting in spite of his sternest self-orders not to. "She's about to get involved in the mess, and doesn't want us knowing so we won't try to stop her. But just how deeply involved does she intend to get?"
Traixe could only shake his head with a frown, which did nothing to ease Kylin's direst forebodings.
"… so we'll be leavin' at first light, along with the other fighter leaders," Kaffa was saying as I closed the door to my room, then gestured her into the chair. "We've all sent word to our fighters to start movin', so by the time we get there they'll be there, too. That's when we're goin' to need a really good attack plan, one that first knocks out the force that's protectin' the intruders. You have any ideas yet?"
"Me?" I asked in surprise, taking off my swordbelt and putting it aside with the cake I'd brought along before I sat on my bed, keeping just the wine cup. "I haven't even seen the terrain, not to mention how they've handled troop disposition. Why are you making it sound like the best battle plan will come from me?"
"That's what the Spirits seemed to be tellin' us," Kaffa answered, sitting in the chair as a brief expression of annoyance crossed her face. "I knew you couldn't have anythin' yet, but I couldn't keep from askin'. As you might have noticed, I'm in a hurry to get started."
"The sooner started, the sooner over," I quoted at her, not liking this newest turn of events. "I understand the feeling better than you know, but do me a favor and don't put all your faith in what the Spirits said. I'd hate to be a total disappointment to you."
"You won't be," she assured me with a confidence I didn't find at all reassuring, and then she grinned. "At least not where fightin' is concerned. When I think about that beautiful man, though… No, let me take that back. I haven't been havin' any trouble rememberin' I'm married, but he's one who would sure test the strength of the memory. Best would be I don't go messin' with him, but there's nothin' stoppin' you. You let him get away and you'll regret it as sure as I'd like to finish that wine for you."
"Good leaders don't drink when they have serious leading ahead of them," I told her primly, taking the opportunity to return some of the tormenting she'd been doing. "And who says I'm letting him get away? I'll have you know I've been making plans, and if the one I'm in the middle of now works, he won't be leaving to go back home with Traixe tomorrow."
"Well, you've been makin' plans!" she said, raising her brows. "I'm impressed as I can be. But didn't I hear you say somethin' about both of us bein' safe, because he wants a woman he can marry? And aren't you the one he's supposed to marry? That would make me safe, but you the primest target."
"Ah, but he's accepted the fact that I don't want to get married," I said, folding my legs in front of me on the bed. "With that in view he's also told me he isn't interested in fooling around, but I don't happen to think that's true. I think he really does want me, but he's afraid I'll lure him off to the free life and away from imposed duties and obligations. So that's exactly what I'm in the middle of trying."
"Softy, if there was ever anythin' that man was afraid of, he faced it and whipped it a long time ago," she pronounced, looking at me as if I had a big empty hole in my head. "I noticed he didn't say much to you, but I had the feelin' it was because he didn't want to say the wrong thing, not because he had nothin' to say or was afraid to put words to what little he did have. If you're in the middle of a game, so is he."
"What kind of game?" I asked after a wall-building hesitation, not really believing her contention but finding it impossible to simply dismiss. "Since he's accepted the fact that I won't marry him, what game is there left for him to play?"
"Girl, you're not usually this thickheaded, so I'm goin' to guess that he's got more than that man Traixe on his side," she said with a sigh, then leaned forward in the chair. "Listen to me now and listen good, and if you don't agree you can argue later. All it took was one glance at that man, and I could see he doesn't take no for an answer any more than Aimisse did. Did he chase you all the way up here just to wave bye-bye as you ride off? Does he mean to go back to your father and say he had you but let you go? If he's all that hot for you, why isn't he takin' advantage of havin' you right in his lap? You know any other Fighter who would pass on doin' you, especially if he isn't even married yet?"
"But that's what I said!" I interrupted, beginning to feel outnumbered. "He shouldn't be pushing me away from him, so if he is it's only because he's afraid. I - "
"Softy, that man is not afraid," she stated slowly, staring straight at me. "He's already as free as it's possible to get, you can see it in those pretty eyes of his! If he hasn't had you down flat five or six times by now, it's only because he's lookin' for somethin' more. You want to take a guess about what it can be?"
That time I wouldn't have been interrupted if I'd said anything, but suddenly I didn't have that anything. Kaffa's arguments were getting me very confused, and in a way I wasn't used to. None of it seemed to make any sense, no matter how hard I tried to rearrange the pieces.
"But - I'm sure he wants me," I stumbled, feeling as if I were stuck in ankle-deep mud, disturbed by the intensity on her face. "If he doesn't, why is he still here? And what has all this got to do with Aimisse and his refusal to take no for an answer?"
"Aimisse is the man I married," she said, gesturing aside the question as unimportant. "I thought you realized that, but it doesn't matter. What we're discussin' here is the man you're involved with, and what he's really up to. I don't like the idea of a friend of mine gettin' pushed into somethin' she wants no part of. Most women in these mountains end up marryin', either their own choice or the one the Spirits pick for them, but if they really don't want to they can't be forced. We don't - Hey, maybe that's it! The Spirits!"
"Maybe the Spirits are what?" I asked, feeling even more confused. "Kaffa, I'm not following any of this."
"If the Spirits are involved I'm not surprised," she said, now looking very annoyed. "They meddle in people's lives only every now and then, but once they get involved they don't stop until they have what they want. I knew you weren't that thick, but I am or I would have seen it sooner. Your Lord Kylin is tryin' to trap you, and the Spirits, for some reason, are helpin' him."
"But how could he get the mountain Spirits on his side?" I asked, fighting to take in what she was saying. "As far as I know, he's never been to the mountains before. And how could he trap me by refusing to touch me?"
"His refusin' to touch you made you want to force him to come after you, didn't it?" she asked in turn, speaking slowly and carefully. "And if he doesn't know how hot Blade blood runs, he's the only King's Fighter - or human - who doesn't. He may be itchin' real hard about now, but he's tryin' to make you itch even more. I'll bet if he walked in right now and started shuckin' his clothes, I wouldn't be able to drag you away."
"Maybe you wouldn't have to drag me," I answered defensively, feeling my cheeks warm over how dead on her guess was. "Maybe I'd be able to walk away on my own. But it still doesn't make any sense. Even if I do have a really heavy case of the hots, I can always find someone else to do the cooling. There's no reason to think I'd agree to marriage just for the sake of a bed partner. And you still haven't said where the Spirits come in, or why you can see what they're doing while I can't."
"Softy, I've been trainin' to be a Spirit Voice for years now," she said with a sigh. "One of the things a Voice has to be is untouchable by the Spirits, which is why they can confuse the hell out of you but can't do the same to me. I don't know why they're on Kylin's side instead of yours. Their reasonin' in these things is never clear, but I do think I know how they're game-playin' you. They're makin' you hotter and hotter while not lettin' you have the man you want, and they're foggin' up your mind so bad you didn't even think about another man until a moment ago. You were tryin' to make Kylin come after you, but you would have ended up givin' him anythin' he wanted when he kept refusin' to do it your way. Are you followin' what I'm sayin'?"
"Something inside me won't let me believe it," I told her, my gaze now on an unfocussed distance rather than on her face. "The idea of a trap like that should scare the hell out of me, but I'm not even feeling faintly frightened. How can the Spirits do something like this to me and still expect that I'll come up with the plan we need to beat our joint enemies?"
"Sister, their thinkin' is never that point-to-point clear," she answered, still sounding annoyed. "As far as I can tell, two situations like that don't link up in any way for them. It's another reason why you're born to be a Spirit Voice, but you still have to be trained."
"So what am I going to do?" I asked, happy to notice that I was finally beginning to feel annoyed. "Leave with you at first light and simply hope he doesn't follow? I can't see that as being a terribly definite plan."
"At least you're learnin'," she said, obviously no happier than I was. "We'll both have to do some thinkin' about this, and maybe even some meddlin' of our own. If nothin' else, we can make sure they don't follow by takin' them along as prisoners. We'll have to see how things go, but that's for tomorrow. Tonight we still need to use for sleep."
"I don't think I'm tired enough to fall asleep," I grumbled as I watched her stand. "You don't happen to have the equivalent of night houses here in the mountains, do you?"
"We don't have them because we don't need them," she said with a grin, stopping on her way to the door. "You want me to send you somebody to provide a little coolin' distraction? You know you can trust my taste, and that way you can get some of the edge taken off. Play it safe, so to speak, by havin' fun."
"That's not a bad idea," I said, nodding slowly as I considered the offer. "I don't really want somebody else, so that means I'd better find somebody fast. Those Spirits have to learn I won't get taken without a fight."
"That's the spirit," she said with a wider grin, totally unashamed of the horrible pun. "And I know just the man to send. Similtain won't be feelin' happy right now about not bein' able to drink, so he'll jump at the chance for better twice as fast as he normally would. Ten minutes or less."
I gave her a smile along with my nod of agreement, watched her leave, then finished off the wine in my cup. I remembered the fighter leader Similtain from that morning, a big, good-looking man with laugh lines around his eyes. If Kaffa thought he would do I had no doubts, at least as far as his abilities went. He would take the edge off for me, and I'd enjoy every minute of the process.
But! I shifted farther back on the bed to put my cup on the table holding the cake, then lay down with the pillow under my head. Just because the biggest reservation I had was not really natural and not even partially mine, that didn't mean I wasn't feeling the drag of its presence. The man I wanted was Kylin, him and no one else, and the idea of accepting someone else was feeling very, very wrong.
Which meant I also felt like sticking out my tongue at the mountain Spirits, and then making a very rude noise. Just because I couldn't bring myself to believe I was being suckered and trapped, that didn't mean I couldn't act as though I believed it. I'd maintain the act until I was out of the mountains and could think clearly again, and then I'd see what there was to be done. Which would probably involve getting really pissed off.
I heard a brief, discreet knock at my door and started to sit up. The knock had to mean Similtain had arrived, and I preferred to invite him in rather than calling out for him to do it himself. But suddenly it became clear that something wasn't working right. Starting to sit up didn't move me an inch, and in fact began to make me sleepy instead. I could feel myself melting down into the complete relaxation of sleep instead of up into movement, down, down to thickening fog, down and away…
"Hey, wait for me!" the familiar voice called from behind me as I walked, its tone faintly annoyed. "We're supposed to be doing this together, remember?"
"I have a feeling that's more your idea than Evon's," I answered without stopping, not even turning around. "If Evon wanted us together we'd arrive together, not take turns showing up first. So if you can't keep up, don't complain about being left behind."
"Wrong," Kylin said, his big hand on my arm pulling me to a stop. "The reason we don't arrive together is that we're not together before we come here, so we can't start at the same time. It took two of us to handle what came before, if you'll recall, and that means if we split up we die. Is that what you want? To die before the job is done?"
"Anything that wants to kill me will have to work at it," I told him flatly, looking up into light eyes that were trying to impress me as stern. "It won't happen by accident and it won't happen because I'm outnumbered, and it certainly won't happen by trapping me. Have I made myself clear enough that you understand me?"
"I'm glad to say I understand every word," he answered, now looking down at me with puzzlement. "And I'm delighted to hear that you feel that way, but I don't understand why you're looking at me like that. What is there about what you said that I would want to argue?"
"I don't know," I grudged, the reluctant admission not making me feel any better. "There's something I'm not feeling happy about, and even though I can't remember what it is I still get the impression you have a lot to do with it. You needed to be warned, so I warned you."
"You sound like the word should be blamed rather than warned," he observed, the expression in his eyes moving back toward stern. "I don't like being blamed for things I didn't do, but you seem to be making a habit of that with me. If you can't come up with any specifics right now, I want an apology."
"What have I been blaming you for that you haven't done?" I countered, putting my fists to my hips. "You can't count the time I thought you were an enemy, because you knew the whole story back then but chose not to tell it to me. What else have I blamed you for?"
"You've been blaming me for the fact that your father approves of me," he returned, folding his arms as he looked down at me. "I haven't kept my interest in you a secret so you ought to know how I feel, but every time I try to get close to you, you push me away. I could accept that if you simply didn't return my interest, but you do. You feel as attracted to me as I am to you, but because I've been accepted as your husband you want nothing to do with me. If that isn't being unjustly blamed, I don't know what is. And by the way, what's your favorite dessert?"
"What?" I said, trying to sort out his ridiculous claim and the sudden, blinding, change of subject. "What in hell do desserts have to do with any of this?"
"It's one of the thousand little things I should know about you by now but still don't," he answered, obviously enjoying my confusion. "It's something you should know about me as well, but you don't even know you're missing the information. Now that the subject has come up, why don't we fill in a few of the blanks?"
"The only blanks around here are the holes in your head," I stated, looking around at the gray rock walls to either side of us. "It seems to make no difference to you that I'm trying to prove a very important point, so why don't we just drop the subject altogether? We're here to do a job, not to exchange favorite desserts, so let's get to it."
I started to move around him up the corridor of stone, but he shifted himself directly into my way again.
"So you're trying to prove a very important point," he said, sounding as though he didn't believe a word of it. "If it's all that important, why aren't you doing your proving in front of the king and his council, where the effort could do more people than you some good? Why waste your time with an individual effort, when you could be fighting for helpless victims everywhere?"
"You think I'm foolish enough to believe that the king and his council would listen to me?" I asked with a sound of ridicule, looking up at him again. "No, let me rephrase that. They would probably listen, but they'd never hear me. Or if they did hear me they'd simply offer regret-filled sympathy. The current system makes things easier for them, so why would they bother to change it? Because one female out of ten thousand digs her heels in and refuses to go along with it? As long as the rest don't do more than shed a few tears before obeying, why would they bother to do anything at all?"
"Chances are they wouldn't, but maybe for a reason you're not considering," he came back, unconvinced by anything I'd said. "Maybe they won't change the system because it has more good points than bad, and the tears that are shed because of it are quickly dried and don't return. No one likes to be forced into doing things, but just because you're forced doesn't mean the thing is bad. Sometimes being forced into a particular circumstance can be the best thing that ever happened to you."
"Then why is everyone getting so wild over my doing the forcing?" I demanded, sick of hearing how pleasant the buried life promised to be. "Do you think it's because they approve of forcing only when they're doing it? That they've discovered there's a big difference between doing something for someone else's good, and someone doing things for their good? That with all the pretty speeches pushed aside, it comes down to no more than one opinion against another? That outlook tends to be rather deflating, especially when you'd rather picture yourself as being virtuously noble."
"Or monstrously put-upon," he said, shaking his head a little. "I hadn't realized it before, but some people don't seem to be happy unless they're defending their honor against an entire world of opponents. The attitude puts a good deal of interest in their lives, but tends to get really boring for those around them. You were right when you said we had a job to do here, so let's get on with it."
He unfolded his arms as he turned away, and then he began to stride up the rock corridor without looking back. I followed along at my own pace, wishing that that exchange between us had never taken place. It hadn't settled a damned thing, but had done a great job of turning me depressed. If I'd had any brains I would have refused to dive into that particular bottomless lake ever again no matter how hard I was pushed, which seemed like the best idea I'd had in a long time. Deciding to try it made me feel a little better, but in general the depression wasn't impressed.
I trailed along after Kylin for a pleasantly silent few minutes, but then our corridor of stone ended like it had the last time. This time, though, the opening showed nothing of boulders and spires, just dark gray walls lost somewhere in the distance, all the dim openness covered over with fog. Thick, light-gray fog covered the ground ankle high, while patches of mist in the same lack of color floated in various places through the air. It all made the vast cavern look totally unreal, and worse than that, totally uncertain.
"We're going to have to pay a lot of attention to where we put our feet," Kylin said from where he'd stopped to wait for me, his eyes moving everywhere. "That ground fog is thick enough to hide anything from attackers to chasms, so we'd better be ready."
There wasn't much to say to that, so I just maintained the same silence I'd been keeping during the previous walk. Kylin glanced at me, possibly to be sure I really was there beside him, and then he led off. There was an odd musty smell in the air, something the fog and mist could not really account for. I knew the smell of fog, and the odor around us was something more.
We walked on through the indefinite landscape for a few minutes, long enough to leave the corridor of stone well behind, Kylin using his sword to tap the ground before he put his feet on it. I had my own sword in my hand while my eyes kept constantly moving, looking for the attack I knew would be coming. But I wasn't too absorbed in being alert not to notice the difference in sound that Kylin's sword made. At first the steel had been tapping rock, the metallic clang clear and familiar, but slowly that had changed to the low thud of metal on dirt. I bent quickly to let my fingers confirm that, and they certainly did. Beneath the ground mist was hard-packed soil, with no indication of where the rock had gone - or why.
Right after that the ground began to rise, slowly enough that our ankles barely felt it, but definitely enough that the ground fog under our feet separated from the light gray sea it had started out being a part of. Very briefly I considered stopping Kylin and redirecting him down to ground level, but that would have been preference rather than necessity. Up was the way we were supposed to go, and once again I had no doubt.
It took a little while, but eventually our path rose high enough to put us an uncomfortable distance above ground level. I wondered briefly why we hadn't seen the rise as we approached it, then let the question slip away. The place we were in didn't seem to work the way the world was supposed to, and being surprised over that would have been a waste of time and effort.
We floated on through the silent fog and mist, the only sound being the low thud-thud of Kylin's blade tapping the ground - and then everything began to happen at once. From out of nowhere a bevy of flying things exploded directly at us, shrill screams and flapping wings like a bucket of cold water thrown in our faces. The surprise, however, did more than simply wake us up. Small talons tried to rip us to pieces, sharply hooked beaks helping in the effort. Proving, of course, that we hadn't flushed a flock of something by accident, but were definitely under attack.
Even as I automatically brought up my blade, part of me was frozen in shock over what the attack had already accomplished. Kylin, out in front of our small party, got the brunt of the surprise onslaught, but he didn't go down under the weight of it. Or at least not precisely down. What he did was flinch back and to his left, but a little too far to his left. With a shout his feet slid out from under him as he dropped his sword, and then he was hanging from the edge of our path over a drop that would certainly kill him.
Part of me might have been frozen in shock, but it was a very small part that didn't really count. The rest of me screamed with fury as I sliced the edges of my blade back and forth through that cloud of flying attackers, cutting them out of the air and out of my way. At least half of them were still after Kylin, trying to make him lose his precarious hold on the path and send him completely over the edge, but that I would not allow. I drew my dagger left-handed and plunged it deep into the fog-covered ground to provide a handhold for Kylin to pull himself up by, and then I began to attack the attackers in earnest.
If there was fog on the ground and mist in the air, then a matching fog and mist cover all rational memory of the next few minutes. Possibly that happened because there was nothing rational about me during the time, nothing but an intense need and desire to destroy all those birdlike things that had been trying to destroy Kylin. And they were birds, as the feathers my sword tore through testified to, vicious birds that should have frightened me even as I fought them. But I hated them too much to be frightened, and I killed them even as they clawed at me from all sides.
And then there was another sword joining mine, another blade clearing the air of numberless, unending attackers. It took longer than I would have imagined to get them all, but with none of them running - or flying - from the certain defeat, it did have to be all. We chopped and swung, turned and chopped some more, and eventually, at long, long last, it was over.
"Are you all right?" Kylin panted out from beside me, his chest heaving with the effort to gasp in enough air. "You're bleeding all over from those things, and even though the cuts are small there are so many of them! Did they hit anything vital?"
Rather than answer him, which I couldn't do right now for lack of air, I simply turned and wrapped my arms around him. That very small part inside me needed to know he was really all right, that he was only scratched up a little rather than mashed to bloody pulp on the ground so far below our path. If that had happened I didn't know what I would have done, and that had nothing to do with having to continue on alone.
"Well, you certainly feel all right," Kylin murmured after a moment of what seemed like surprise, his own arms coming to fold all the way around me. "And I think you can forget about that apology I asked for earlier. Having my life saved is better than an apology any day, or any whatever-this-is-instead-of-a-day. Let's take a short rest until we have our breath back."
He seemed ready to take that rest just standing there holding me, but that struck me as a good way to get killed. With my sword still in my right hand pushing free wasn't very easy, but I managed it with the help of my bracer. It had a lot more strength for pushing Kylin away than I did, and once I was disentangled the man I'd been holding to sighed.
"All right, this time Evon is obviously on your side, so we'll save that for when we're out of here," he said, watching as I went to retrieve my dagger from under a mound of feathered bodies. "I won't be forgetting it, though, or the fact that I owe you my life. Do you need to have any of those cuts seen to?"
I shook my head as I resheathed my dagger, feeling oddly detached despite the burning of the countless scratches and cuts all over me. Something very like the fog was standing between me and the rest of that world, and the fact that it wasn't letting me think seemed a benefit rather than a drawback. Kylin took the lead again, and we went on.
After only a couple of minutes the path began to trend downward again. I had the impression the rise had served its purpose - or not served it, since we were still alive - so it could now be put behind us. We descended until we were level with the rest of that world of fog and mist, but when Kylin noticed we were beginning to go even lower than that, he suddenly stopped.
"No, I don't think I'll go along with it this time," he announced, still keeping his eyes moving in all directions. "Since the area around us continues level, that's the way we'll be going. Time to turn around, girl."
"We can't turn around," I told him, stopping him in mid motion. "There's only one path through this place that will take us where we have to go, and this is it. Earlier we had to go up, and now we have to go down."
"Are you absolutely sure about that?" he demanded, very unhappy over hearing his decision reversed. "No, of course you're not absolutely sure, how could you be? We'll try it my way for a short distance, and if it doesn't work out we can always come back."
"You're under the impression we have all the time in the universe?" I asked, making no effort to follow him in the few retracing steps he'd taken. "And what makes you think we'd be able to find this path again? Am I absolutely sure about going this way? Yes. Do I expect to enjoy the walk? No. Am I going ahead anyway? Just watch me."
With that I began to walk up the path again, or, more precisely, down it. The fog was already beginning to swirl higher than my ankles, promising worse to come, but that couldn't be helped. The new dank smell was something I'd have to live with until I got away from it again, and I would get away again. I was beginning to feel impatient with the idea of the job I had to do, and I wanted it over and done with.
"All right, all right, wait for me," a still-unhappy voice grudged from behind me, and Kylin himself quickly took up the same position. "I was all ready to argue your stubborn, opinionated outlook, but my bracer agreed with you just as it did higher up when I wanted to stop for a while. This is the way we have to go, so we might as well get it done."
"Nice of you to support me with such heartfelt enthusiasm," I couldn't help muttering, but apparently he decided that wasn't the place to start another argument. My comment drew nothing from him in the way of a reply, so we just kept going.
After a couple of dozen steps Kylin's left hand reached forward to take mine, but there was nothing romantic or intimate in the gesture. By now the fog was up to my shoulders, and with the path still trending downward there was no reason to believe the rising fog would stop there. Very soon a single step would be able to separate us, so it was up to us to make certain we weren't separated.
Once the fog closed in completely, so did an intensification of the feeling of unreality. As I tapped us along very slowly with the point of my blade, Kylin's sword poised from behind me to the right, I realized that fog this thick wasn't really silent. There was a … trembling oversilence in the cottony mist floating all around, a resonating lack of sound that made me feel we were the only two living beings left in the entire world.
Which, considering our situation, was a damned silly thing to think. The fog had probably been waiting for a dumb signal like that, and once I gave it I was immediately proved wrong. Something reached out of the fog and bit at my right arm, almost causing me to drop my sword, and then the battle was on.
Kylin and I stood slicing at the mostly unseen attackers gliding at us out of their ghostly cover, and his low-voiced cursing told me he felt he was accomplishing as little as I was. You can't really strike at a floating, unseen enemy until you get something of a glimpse of it, which meant we had to let ourselves be bitten. Once that happened we were able to move in defense, but more often than not by then it was too late to cause any real damage. In no time at all he and I were both bleeding, and I was beginning to feel the urge to let his hand go so that I might chase after those damned ghosts in their cowardly retreatings.
"We've got to get out of here," Kylin said suddenly, his voice a growl of frustration. "All I want to do is go after those things, but if we separate now we'll never find each other again. I've spent too long chasing after you to be willing to lose you now, so go back to checking the path and lead us out."
I didn't much care for the idea of listening to him, especially after his having mentioned that he wasn't about to let me get away from him, but there weren't all that many alternate options. We could stand here and let ourselves be eaten one bite at a time, we could separate in an attempt to do some retaliatory damage, or we could stand here and waste our time - and blood - trying to clear the area before we moved on.
Since we'd already found that the third option didn't work, and since being eaten alive like this wasn't Kylin's idea of fun any more than it was mine, that just left the second option. We could separate in an effort to get back some of our own, but that idea was just a little too attractive for the idiocy it really was. Something or someone wanted us to separate, and that meant we had damned well better stay together.
Which also meant that I had to start us moving again, and that as fast as possible. Kylin worked at protecting the two of us while I tapped away with my sword-turned-cane, but every once in a while I had to stop tapping and start swinging. During those every-once-in-a-while incidents it seemed like those fog-swimming beasts attacked me harder than they did normally, and my nature being what it is that action made me suspicious. Intensifying their attack brought me two reactions, so those were the two things I looked at very carefully.
When the things attacked from all sides in a push, I first raised my sword in defense then felt an intensifying need to hurry us out of there. Neither of my two reactions were unnatural, and in fact it would have been unnatural to react in any other way. But for some reason the very … reasonableness of the feelings made me even more suspicious. Someone was trying to hustle me into something I would not normally want, but I couldn't quite figure out what the unknown objective was.
And then it came to me all at once, as my left foot slid forward during the latest heavy attack. My boot heel was firmly on the ground, but under the place my toes had stopped was a mushy nothingness that promised the killing kind of floating. The trained reflexes of a Blade kept me from moving forward even another half inch, but it was really close. If I hadn't been using my foot to probe forward when my sword was otherwise engaged…
But I had been using my foot because I'd been trained to be cautious even in the midst of battle. Or, especially in the midst of battle, when my attention was occupied with other things than where I put my feet. I helped to fight off that latest attack, wishing all the while that I could get a better look at exactly what I was fighting, then gasped out to Kylin in as few words as possible the probable presence of a deep hole right in our path. He was as happy to hear about the hole as you would expect, and he quickly stepped back a little to give me more room.
After that I used my sword to get a bit more information, which led me to decide we had to try going past the hole by way of the narrow ledge of rock to its left. On the right there had been nothing but the rock wall of the lowered path we followed, but the left did boast something of a ledge. There was no touching bottom in the hole even with the extended tip of my blade, and finding the far edge of the still-invisible gap proved just as impossible. Either we went around, turned back, or established a household right here on the spot.
"I think I'd rather have my household where there are friendlier neighbors," Kylin commented when I mentioned our choices, his sword edge causing a thing-attack to come to an abrupt end. "As for going back, my bracer ruled out that choice even before we were head deep in fog. If we have to go on, and we do, and the ledge is our only means of doing that, which it seems to be, then we have to figure out the best way of using that ledge."
I didn't think there were all that many ways of using a ledge, but my companion grinningly pointed out that we still couldn't afford not to hold hands. I had the distinct feeling that ulterior motives had crept in to twist a necessity, but once again this wasn't the place for an argument. It ended up that I went first facing the wall behind the ledge, my sword checking the footing on the ledge we couldn't see, and Kylin faced out over the pit, holding my left hand as he warded off any attacks.
People talk about objective and subjective time, but most seem to prefer to avoid the topic of terror-filled time. I consider that avoidance very wise of them, especially in view of the eternity-and-a-half Kylin and I spent getting to the far side of that pit. My mind refuses to confirm the number of times we each almost went off that ledge, and very frankly I'd rather forget those times entirely. Suffice it to say there were two gaps in the ledge that had to be gotten over and three attacks that had to be fought off. By the time we were on solid ground again we were both trembling, and not only from the sweat that caused our wounds to flare with the fire of true pain.
We crouched down to rest for no longer than it took to get our breath back, and then we began to move forward again. There was a frantic flurry of attacks we both had to defend against, but once they were over we found they were also the last of it. A few steps later our heads emerged from the fog, proving we were definitely moving upward. The discovery didn't make us forget to be cautious, but we still managed to move faster after that.
Once the fog was back down to ankle level I let Kylin take over point for a while. I needed a break from staring down, and he needed one from staring in every other direction. We still seemed to have quite a lot of that cavern area left to cover, and another attack could come at any time from any source.
But it didn't. We trudged along with Kylin in the lead for quite a while, and then it was my turn again. Wearily I joined him in changing places, and once he was behind me with his left hand on my right shoulder I looked up to see something I hadn't noticed before. What looked like a large box of fog stood a short distance ahead of us, almost directly in our path.
"I wonder what that is," I said, trying to estimate the size of the box. "Depending on how close it really is, it could be big enough to hold you and me together."
"Which means it's probably a trap set to catch us, or it's filled with the next whatevers scheduled to attack us," Kylin answered, sounding almost as tired as I felt. "Is there any way we can avoid going near it?"
"Yes," I said at once, so surprised by that answer that I was pulled a short way out of exhaustion. "We seem to have the choice of going right up to it, or circling around to avoid it completely."
"Then let's circle," he said, a good deal of relief now clear in his voice. "I'll fight if I have to, but I'd be much happier not having to. I feel as if most of my strength has drained out of these bite wounds."
I glanced at him to see again how badly torn up he was, a bit more than what I'd ended up with. I knew exactly what he meant about not having any strength left, but something about our choice bothered me.
"This isn't the first time you wanted to go one way while I wanted to go another," I mused aloud, considering the two paths. "The other times, though, one of the ways was clearly the wrong way. If both of these ways are right, and that's certainly how it feels, then our choice might not be what we think it is."
"How can our choice be anything but which way to go?" he asked, curious rather than argumentative. "Since we're supposed to stay together, we have to choose between the two paths."
"I think you just found the answer," I said, turning my head to look at him again. "Up until now there's been one path, and that meant we had to stay together. If there are now two paths, it means we have to separate."
"No," he stated, those light eyes going hard and dark. "We take one way or the other, but we take that way together. If you end up being killed it will only be because they first killed me."
"They're not the only ones capable of doing killing," I came back, starting to be annoyed with him despite the exhaustion. "You may insist on believing that I can't take care of myself, but you and my father are the only two living beings in this entire kingdom who think so. Everyone else is smarter than that, but I'm too tired to argue. I think we can settle this another way."
"If you're waiting for Evon to jump in on your side of the disagreement, I seriously doubt it's going to happen," he said, putting his left fist on his hip as he gave me that look. "Since that would be the only way you could get me to change my mind…"
"Then that's the way I'll have to do it," I finished for him, giving him a small smile. "As follows: I think we've both learned that our bracers are more than just decorations, or even simple additions to our weaponry. They're also the way we find things out that Evon wants us to know, and I'm beginning to believe we're not using them half as much as we should. Right now we can settle our argument in a very easy way: if we're supposed to stay together our bracers will go together without any resistance. If we're not, they won't. Are you ready to try it?"
"How did you come up with that?" he demanded, brows low with frustrated anger. "As ideas go, it's the most ridiculous - " His words broke off as he saw me put out my left arm, crossing my body so that my bracer faced him. He could see it was put up or shut up time, and he shook his head sharply. "No, words won't do it, only actions will. I say your theory is wrong, so let's give it a try."
His fist left his hip as he reached his own bracer toward me, but in a situation like this only one of us could be right. He moved his arm toward mine, but with a foot's worth of distance still to go his arm stopped as though he'd struck an invisible wall. An instant later I could see his arm being forced back despite the straining of his muscles, but once he stopped straining the pressure against him also immediately stopped.
"So that's where your idea came from," he said, sounding even more weary than he had. "I suppose I should have known. Well, there's something else I do know. If anything happens to you, it won't be you I'll be blaming."
With that he turned and walked off, possibly not even noticing that he hadn't had to ask me where the second path could be found. I watched his receding back for a moment or two, bothered that he seemed to have threatened Evon, but then the disturbance faded away into the same gray fog I'd been filled with for a while. Nothing mattered but the job at hand, and the sooner I got on with it the sooner it would be over.
I used my sword to test the ground in front of me until I reached the box made of fog, and then I used the sword to test the ground around the box. There weren't any hidden pits waiting for me to stumble into them, but there also didn't seem to be any way of opening the fog to see inside the box. The size of the box did suggest it could hold two grown humans or any number of smaller beings, and that presented a problem of its own. If I managed to open the box and was attacked, I wasn't sure I could win the way I was supposed to.
But then I realized that I had to win, tired or not, hurting or not. My defeat would mean the defeat of a lot more than a single Blade, and it didn't even matter that I had no idea how much more that was. I'd been given a very special job, and I had to survive to do it no matter what it cost me.
And with that realization came the knowledge that I did know how to open the box, the answer being extremely obvious. I straightened my aching, weary body, raised my sword in my fist, and then touched the fog of the nearest box side with my bracer.
Almost immediately the fog began to thin, and it was a good thing I'd gotten myself ready to be attacked. Through the thinning fog leaped a shadow form holding a shadow sword, but it wasn't precisely like the very first man-shaped shadow I'd fought with in that place. This new form was less manlike and more monstrous, a parody of the human shape with lumps and bulges and hints of other deformities as well as being bent. It landed lightly on the path facing me, and then it began its attack.
Later on it occurred to me that I was probably supposed to be frightened by that horrible, deadly shape, but at the moment of attack there was only one thought frightening me: if I ended up getting myself killed Kylin would blame Evon, and what the big fool would do after that was anybody's guess. I had the feeling that if I was only wounded I would get the brunt of Kylin's anger, and for some reason I didn't like the idea of that any better. The only way to avoid all sorts of undesirable outcomes was to win, then, but the shadow I faced was a good deal fresher than the Blade it faced.
And yet the shadow I faced was fighting in what seemed to be a very strange way. I parried a flurry of attacks and then replied with an attack of my own toward a very brief opening, and even though the counter failed the shadow seemed … upset by it. It took another minute or so of exchanges before I understood, and then I couldn't quite believe that the enemy was as innocent - or as stupid - as he seemed.
Unless I read my opponent completely wrong, it was expecting me to fight it the way I'd fought the first shadow form. That first shadow had fought completely by the book, and I'd defeated it by taking advantage of its predictability. But that, of course, wasn't what I was doing with this second shadow. I'd begun by meeting it in the only way you can meet a new adversary, by assuming nothing about its fighting style that you don't see here and now. It was something new Blades had to be taught, that even the same person can't be counted on to use the same style of fighting at every meeting, but I hadn't been a new Blade for half a decade.
And yet my adversary seemed to have expected me to assume I knew how to win, and to go ahead and use that method. If I had I would have been down in no time, due entirely to the fact that the shadow was only feinting with the precise moves of drilling. Its real attacks were completely unorthodox, some of them going all the way to downright silly, its speed alone taking the corners off the concept of silliness. I faced version two of the shadow forms, and its grotesque outline wasn't the only thing different about it.
Which meant that I had to watch it fight a while before I could figure out how to beat it, but not too long a while. I no longer had the speed for a quick win or the strength for a dragged out fencing match, but I did have the eye of a professional. As the thing came in at me again, trying to flurry its way through my guard, I saw that it wasn't a professional and possibly not even a talented amateur. It was doing nothing more than following the same instructions over and over, feinting with precision, attacking with unorthodoxy, just as though the ploy still had a chance to work.
I have a bad habit of smiling at my opponents when I figure out the path through their defenses, but right now I made certain not to show that smile. It was enough that one of us was giving away secrets, and I had no idea how well the enemy knew me. If he watched through the shadow's eyes he might recognize the mistake he was in the midst of making, and I didn't want that happening until after I'd taken advantage of it.
Considering how little strength I had left, I couldn't take the time to confirm my guesswork. I had to act on the guess instead, which I did almost immediately. The shadow attacked with one of its unorthodoxies, I parried and pretended to attack in turn, but my move was a feint. I'd chopped at its head, bringing its sword up, and if it's previous actions meant anything it would begin its own feint from that position, high line with guard the same. Instead of waiting to be certain, however, I dropped into a crouch with the bracer set to guard against a downward stroke, and thrust up into my opponent's shadow belly.
I heard the sound of the shadow sword making contact with my bracer, but the strength behind the touch was so minimal that I felt nothing of it. My opponent itself was wavering on its misshapen feet, and when I pulled my blade free and straightened up, that was when it took its turn at going down. The only difference was it went all the way down, nestling into the ground fog like a kitten in a basket of wash.
"Thank Evon," a familiar voice said reverently from what had been the inside of the box, which no longer was a box. "Sofaltis, that may not be the prettiest win I've ever seen in my life, but it's certainly the second happiest. Until that thing died, I couldn't move out of here."
I turned my head to see Traixe walking toward me, nothing left of the box but a ghost of a suggestion of a hint. He wore his usual reddish-brown leathers with my father's device on the left breast side of the tunic, but to my great surprise he was unarmed.
"Traixe, you look naked," I said, trying not to let him see how hard breathing had become for me. "What happened to your sword?"
"We have to find it," he answered with a chuckle, but then he took a closer look at me and his amusement died. "What in Evon's name has been done to you, child?" he demanded, quickly putting an arm around my shoulders. "You look as if you're about to pass out!"
"I don't have the time to pass out," I said, leaning more heavily against him than I'd intended. "We should be crossing Kylin's path only a short distance ahead, and if we don't we have to go looking for him. Just give me a minute to catch my breath, and then we can start."
"Take all the minutes you need," he answered with a worried frown, then noticed the gore-covered weapon I still held. "And while you're taking a rest I'll clean your sword for you. It's the least I can do to thank you for freeing me."
I was about to tell him not to be dumb, that if I'd known he was in the box I would have gotten here a good deal faster, but the words never got said. Traixe's hand reached toward my sword, reached … reached … but couldn't seem to touch it.
"Damnation on the frying thing!" he growled, more than annoyed. "I wasn't going to use it, only clean it! Am I not to be trusted to return it to its owner?"
"Apparently not," I said, finding the situation enlightening as well as amusing. "Kylin said you wouldn't be able to protect yourself until we got where we were going, which is why he and I are here. For once, my friend, you'll have to stand back and watch someone else do the fighting."
"Well, if you want the truth, I'd feel considerably better if that someone else was Lord Kylin," he returned, his manner stiff due to the amusement I'd shown. "I doubt I've seen your match with a sword, girl, but the thought of harm coming to you because of me… That's something I simply can't cope with. Are you able to move on now?"
"In a moment," I answered, forcing myself away from him and close enough to my former opponent to wipe what I could of its blood off my blade and onto its unmoving form. "Okay, now I'm ready to go."
Traixe seemed ready to have me lean on him again, but I couldn't do that while I checked the path in front of us. And I certainly couldn't do it and expect to be ready to fight again. So instead of leaning I led the way, trying not to think about the possibility of having to go looking for Kylin, and Evon must have taken pity on me. As we approached the spot where the two separate paths would meet and become one again, I caught a glimpse through the mist of two figures heading for us from the right.
"Thank Evon!" Kylin called, proving he'd caught the same glimpse, but abruptly he stopped in his attempt to come directly toward us. "Don't try cutting across over here!" he called in warning, now carefully stepping back. "There's a pit under the ground fog and I almost walked right into it."
"I think I already mentioned how unwise it would be to get off the proper path," I muttered, the highest volume of voice I was now capable of. "Just go on to the meeting point, you big idiot. It's only about a dozen strides farther on."
"I don't believe he heard you, but he's following your instructions anyway," Traixe said in a way that showed he was trying not to chuckle. "We should be there in another moment ourselves. Who's that he has with him?"
"I couldn't tell," I said, the complete and completely annoying truth. I hadn't been able to make out the features of the second man through the floating mist, but it wouldn't be too long before I was able to see him clearly. We were both just about up to the meeting point, and when I got there I turned to get a better look. Black leather and boots, dark hair and a silver medallion … the man with Kylin was Rull.
"That has to be our way out," Kylin said from the rear of our party, obviously having looked either over or around shoulders. "If it isn't the corridor we need, I may not last long enough to find the one that is."
"It's definitely the way we have to go," I said, or maybe I only whispered the words. I felt like a neglected water trough in the heat of high summer, long since emptied of what was supposed to be inside and on the verge of drying up to the point of cracking.
There hadn't been too much in the way of conversation when Traixe and I had joined Kylin and Rull, but that was probably because of what Kylin and I looked like. Traixe suggested we save our greetings until we got to a place where everyone could sit down, and Rull gave me a very odd look but quickly agreed. I'd been able to feel his eyes on me the entire time we walked, and the walk had been long enough for us to find out that Kylin and I had both had to fight. He'd found a box like the one Traixe had been in, decided a battle just couldn't be avoided, and then had done what was necessary in order to free Rull.
And now we were entering a stone corridor that was definitely the way we had to go, but which promised no guarantees of safety and peace. Assuming we wouldn't be attacked here just because we hadn't been yet would be a possibly fatal mistake, and I was too spent for mistakes. Easiest would be to try to do everything right the first time, but harder was not laughing at that big a joke…
"Wait a minute," Traixe said from where he was walking to my left. "There's an archway over here, and it just might lead to a place we can relax for a while. I'll take a look."
"We'll all take a look," I countered immediately, putting my left hand to his arm to stop him. "If it doesn't turn out to be what we all hope it is, you'd better remember you aren't armed."
Traixe muttered under his breath with only the edge of a growl coming clear, and I knew exactly how he felt. Having to accept other people's protection when you're used to protecting yourself is grating, but right now there was nothing he could do to change that. We moved forward together, Kylin and Rull following, and when we reached the archway we looked inside.
The same smooth gray stone that was blue, the same pool with silver water, only this time the silver light showed four people-sized cushions and four cups of wine. I heard Kylin's sigh of relief as I looked around, but there was still one thing left to do.
"Since Kylin's already playing rearguard, I get to do the checking again," I said, knowing Traixe and Rull weren't likely to understand, but not caring. "Everybody stay here and be ready to move fast."
With that I entered the room and headed for one of the silver cups, vaguely wondering if I ought to be talking to Evon in my mind, begging him to make that place his in truth. Then I remembered that Evon didn't like to be begged, that he found it demeaning to both his follower and himself, and besides, the room was already set as to what it would be. To believe Evon would have overlooked making the place safe if he could would be like calling the god stupid, and I really didn't care for the idea of doing that. I just kept moving forward instead, and eventually reached the cup on the extreme right.
Getting down to my knees wasn't that big a deal, but setting my sword on the floor in order to reach out with the bracer was more complicated. It took me a minute to get the right balance, but the effort quickly became worth it. As soon as my bracer touched the silver of the cup that glowing mist began to form, and when I was finally able to look at the others again I saw they were inside the room with the silver mist closing off the archway.
"Help me get him over to that cushion," I heard Traixe say as if from a great distance, apparently speaking to Rull. The two of them were supporting a Kylin who couldn't seem to stand alone any longer, and the sight reminded me how badly I was hurting. Not that I needed reminding. I'd been working very hard to forget, but I no longer had to.
"Damn, now Softy's down too," Rull's voice came as I heard a sound like someone stretching out on the cushion to my left. It was then I realized that my eyes were closed, and that I was lying on my right side on the smooth blue stone of the floor.
"I don't think I want to know what they had to go through before they reached us," Traixe said. "They're covered with cuts and gouges, and they had to have lost a lot of blood. But you should have seen the way Sofaltis won the fight against the creature guarding me."
"I may not have seen her, but I got a good look at the King's Fighter," Rull answered. "The thing he fought seemed to be expecting him to fall over any minute, but instead of falling over he used that big blade like an artist with a paintbrush and trimmed it properly. I hadn't realized he was that good."
"They're both that good," Traixe said. "That's why it's them guarding us. Now all we have to do is figure out a way to help them. If we just leave them lying there I'm afraid of what could happen."
"But what can we do?" Rull demanded, the words carved from frustration and worry. "We couldn't bandage them even if we had what to bandage them with, not and still expect them to be able to move. And what would we clean the wounds with - "
"Yes, I see it too," Traixe said when Rull's voice stopped short rather than simply finishing what he'd been saying. "Those thick cloths weren't there beside the pool when we got here, so it has to mean something. The duke was sent cloth like that by the city's weaver guild, a new kind of cloth made special for bathing. It holds more water than the thin, ordinary kind of cotton cloth, so a man can leave his bathing room dry instead of still damp. I think Evon wants us to put them in the pool."
"Then we'd better get them out of their clothes," Rull said, sounding glad that he had something definite to do. "Even if it does nothing else, the water will wash out the wounds."
"I think I'd rather get out of my own clothes," I muttered, opening my eyes to see Rull already reaching for me. "Why don't you help Traixe with Kylin."
"You're getting too deep into the habit of giving orders," Rull said, his light eyes displeased as he pulled his arms back and hung them on his knees. "Once all this is over we'll talk about it, and you'll remember that I'm Fist leader."
"What difference does that make to someone who won't be part of the Fist again?" I asked, forcing the pain back so that I might slowly sit up. "I can't be what you want me to be, Rull, any more than I can be what my father and Traixe and even Kylin want. I'll never forget you and Jak and Ham and Foist, but I'll never be one of you again."
"I can't say I didn't already know that," he answered, lowering his head to rub at his eyes, and then he raised his head again to look at me intensely. "But you have to believe I'll always be there when you need me. Even if you've been put beyond my reach, you'll never be beyond the bond we share. You believe that and remember it."
He turned then to help Traixe with a Kylin who was almost unconscious, and if I hadn't been so exhausted I might have ruined the effect of Rull's pretty speech. For him I'd been put beyond his reach, I hadn't done it myself, so he'd offered the help I would almost certainly need. Maybe I was being narrow-minded and ungrateful to see his promise in such an ungracious light, but ungracious was how I felt right now.
It took me just as long to work my leathers off as it took Rull and Traixe to fight Kylin out of his clothes, and in my part of the battle my boots almost won. When I was finally bare I crawled the short distance to the pool of silver water, tried to turn around to put my feet in first, and managed instead to fall in. If I'd had a squawk left in me I would have squawked before the water closed over my head, but I didn't so I didn't and then there was no need for anything like that.
From hot indoor baths to winter-cold dunkings in lakes, I'd had experience with all sorts of water; what was in that smooth blue pool, though, was like nothing I'd ever known. The silver water felt as though it was made of the glowing silver mist, and although I couldn't see the dazzling beauty my body knew it was there. It was warm and cool at the same time, dry and wet, soothing and exhilarating. It was everything and anything I could think of, up to and including being nothing more than a delightful bath. I had no trouble holding my breath while I was completely submerged, and once I surfaced I had no trouble floating.
"It's all right, she's there," Rull's voice came, sounding almost wild, and when I opened my eyes I saw him staring down anxiously over the pool rim. Traixe, who knelt on the other side over the spot where Kylin's body was still submerged, changed in the blink of an eye from looking pale to grinning.
"She's more than just there," he pointed out to Rull, his dark eyes dancing. "All those scratches and cuts are gone from her face, and if I'm not mistaken they're gone from her shoulders as well. If you want to come out, Sofaltis, you'll have to do it alone. Rullin and I don't seem to be welcome in that pool so this is as close as we can come."
"In another couple of minutes I should have no trouble climbing out alone," I answered, using both hands to push my wet hair back. "Whatever is in this water is starting to bring me alive again."
Just then Kylin surfaced, and once he shook the water out of his eyes it was clear he felt the same way I did. All the exhaustion and pain from our wounds had been washed away, and we were just about back to the way we'd been.
"I'd say Evon is playing more than fair," Traixe remarked once he'd looked Kylin over. "You two are fighting in his name, but he's not asking you to bear the entire burden. Victory brought you through to this place, so you were given an actual reward rather than just the promise of one."
"And I'd say this isn't precisely a reward," Kylin corrected, right hand rubbing his left shoulder. "Evon never promises anything unrealistic to those who fight in his name, nothing like healing or a guarantee of survival. All you usually get is the satisfaction of knowing you're doing something necessary, so that's why there's more to this than you think. If this water healed us, and obviously it did, then we have more and heavier fighting ahead of us."
"I love the cheerful way you look at things," I told him, kicking very gently to keep myself afloat. "And how much of that heavier fighting do you think there'll be?"
"I'm fairly sure we'll find out when we run into it," he answered, giving me a wet but blandly amused look. "Why do you ask? Do you have something else scheduled that you think might interfere?"
"Only in a manner of speaking," I said, looking away from him as I paddled to the edge of the pool. "If we have a lot more fighting ahead of us, we can expect to be healed again a couple of times. If there's only a small amount scheduled, this is probably it as far as swimming goes. If the next time is the last of it, what wounds we get are what we keep."
There was rather a ponderous silence that came in answer to my observation, only the sound of my water-logged leap to the pool rim breaking into it. Once I got my knees under me I looked up to see Rull holding one of those cloths open, so I rose the rest of the way and let him put the cloth around me. By then Kylin was also out of the water, and once he'd taken his own cloth from Traixe he turned to look at me.
"You know, you have a lot of nerve complaining about the way I look at things," he said, using one corner of the cloth to rub at the water in his hair. "Are you trying to suggest that the next time we fight we could end up crippled for good?"
"There's the possibility of that whenever you fight," I pointed out, ignoring the tension in Rull that I could feel like waves of heat. "What I was trying to do was point out how petty you were being, accusing Evon of healing us only for his own benefit. It's possible you're absolutely right, but it's just as possible that this is a gift, an extra thank-you for our efforts. You might try waiting to find out before going grim and cynical."
The narrow-eyed stare I got then was distractedly thoughtful, and after a moment Kylin nodded.
"All right, I have to admit that your point is good," he said, his light-eyed gaze now directly on me. "When you don't have any more than guesses or opinions to go by, your best bet is to wait and see how things turn out. That is what you were saying?"
"Pretty much," I agreed cautiously, wondering why the look in his eyes was suddenly making me so suspicious.
"Then I'm really delighted," he said, abruptly showing a wide grin. "Since you believe that guesses and opinions shouldn't be used as the basis for ironclad decisions and actions, then you have to be ready to be my wife. Once you've tried it for a while and have seen how it works out, then you can form an opinion based on personal experience."
"You're not funny," I told him, this time ignoring Traixe's chuckling and the way Rull turned his back to hide amusement of his own. "None of this has anything to do with marriage, and if you don't know that you're simply beyond hope. We're here to fight in Evon's cause, not to debate the benefits and drawbacks of courting."
"How can you possibly know what Evon's cause does and doesn't cover?" he countered mildly, but that stubbornness glint was back in his eyes. "We know some of the end points we're aiming for, but that doesn't mean we've learned it all. How do you know it isn't absolutely vital that we end up together, and one of the reasons we're fighting as a team is to make it happen?"
"The reason we're fighting as a team is because we each have a bracer," I said, giving him a faint, nasty smile. "And if Evon's cause depends on us getting together, we might as well not waste any more time and blood on fighting. I won't be talked into the chains of slavery no matter how many words are used, and that's the last thing I have to say on the subject. I don't intend to discuss it again."
"Do you really think refusing to discuss it will put an end to the problem, Sofaltis?" Traixe asked as I turned toward one of the white cushions. "If you and your desires were the only ones involved it might very well turn out that way, but there are too many others who have a great deal at stake. No matter how you feel about the situation, you won't be permitted to simply turn your back."
I sat down on one of the cushions and then stretched out, enjoying the way the cloth wrapped around me made me feel dry even though I wasn't. It also felt good to lie down without having to worry about when the next attack would come, and that held true despite the looks I was currently getting from three pairs of eyes. When people tell you that you can't do something they're usually quite serious about meaning what they say, and often get bent out of shape when you go ahead and do that something anyway.
"Softy, it's the Law you're trying to play games with," Rull said, his upset partially covered over by annoyance. "If you had someone else you preferred over your father's choice, you would at least have a reasonable basis for refusal that the king and his council could understand and possibly sympathize with. This way you're just saying no, and not even because you dislike the man. You can be unreasonable in a tavern or a night house, and people will just shrug and point out that you're paying for the right. You may be willing to pay the cost of this mess, but I honestly don't think you can afford it."
Thanks for the support, Rull, I thought, closing my eyes as I got even more comfortable. Now that you understand you aren't in the running, why push things to the point of making waves? It's much easier pointing out how unreasonable I'm being, and later when all the trouble is over you can tell yourself and everyone else that I had no choice but to refuse to marry you. If I'd been free to do as I pleased I would have chosen you, and that story will hold as long as I'm not still hanging around, as free as though I were entirely human.
"I think I'm going to have to admit we're all wasting our time and breath," Kylin said, sounding more resigned than angry. "If she won't listen she won't, and there's no longer any sense in trying to make it easier for the sake of her feelings. There's only one thing left to do, so I'll just have to do it."
I lay there quietly, listening for the details of the one last thing he'd been talking about, but before I could hear them I fell asleep.
"Softy, wake up," the voice urged very softly. "Come on, sister, it's time to get movin'."
"But I only just lay down," I mumbled, finding that my eyes really didn't want to open. "The silver water helped, but I'm still tired."
"Silver water?" the voice said, bringing me farther awake. "What silver water?"
"Did I say that?" I asked, prying my lids up to look at Kaffa while I yawned. "I must have been dreaming. You're kidding about it being time to leave, aren't you?"
"Come on, girl, how much sleep do you need?" she demanded, totally unamused. "When Similtain came up here last night, he said he found you stretched out on the bed and sound asleep. He even tried wakin' you, but you were the next thing to dead. I thought you told me you weren't tired."
"Well, I thought I wasn't tired," I said, sitting up and looking down at myself to see that I was fully dressed. "I don't even remember falling asleep, but I'm delighted to know I left the door unlocked again. I must have a death wish I don't know about."
"If you do you'll probably see it granted in a couple of days," she came back. "But only if you get up now. One of those Fighters travelin' with your two friends was watchin' this room, but I arranged for a small distraction. By the time he gets back, I want us to be gone."
"Sounds like a good idea to me," I said, forcing myself to get out of the bed and start gathering my possessions. There wasn't much so it didn't take more than a moment, leaving me the time to stop by the small table where I'd put the slice of cake the night before. In spite of the way it had already begun to harden I bolted it down in a few bites, needing to fill the very unreasonable hollow inside me. It was part of what was making me so tired, I knew, and with a day's riding ahead I was afraid I'd need all the help I could get.
With my saddlebags shouldered I followed Kaffa out of the room, smiling faintly at the thought that had come to me. From now on we'd be camping out, so I'd no longer need to worry about leaving doors unlocked while I slept.
Traixe was already at a table in the dining room when Kylin came down, and there was more food around him than one man could reasonably be expected to account for. With that in mind the King's Fighter took a chair, appropriated an empty plate, and quickly began to fill it.
"You seem to have quite an appetite this morning, my lord," Traixe observed with a smile, obviously pleased with so ordinary an occurrence. "And you slept even longer than I did. The day should go well for you with so pleasant a beginning."
"Something tells me that pleasant won't be the right word for this day," Kylin muttered, applying himself to the food he'd taken with need rather than enjoyment. "Why didn't someone wake me for a turn of watching Tisah's room?"
"Lord Kylin, my men tell me they tried to wake you but weren't able to," Traixe said, those dark eyes steady on his face. "If you were that much in need of sleep, you did better letting them see to the watching. You should be feeling well rested now."
"Should be," Kylin echoed sourly, knowing he felt nothing of the sort. His insides insisted he hadn't eaten in a week, his eyelids felt as if they hadn't closed in almost that long, and there was something else bothering him, something he couldn't pin down.
"Have you decided what you mean to do with Sofaltis?" Traixe asked after a pause, pouring chai into two cups. "If she tries to ride off, will you stop her or merely follow?"
"By Evon's argent sword, that has to be it," Kylin breathed, looking at the other man with the thrill of shock still coursing through him. "I knew something was wrong, but I was too befuddled to recognize what it was. Tisah has already left."
"That's impossible," Traixe protested, his cup of chai poised half way to his mouth. "How could she be gone without our knowing it when there were men watching her door? Did she sprout wings and fly out the window?"
"I don't know how she did it, but I'm certain the hellion's gone," Kylin answered in a growl, blaming himself for trying to play all sorts of fancy games. "As soon as I swallow down enough of this food to hold me, we'll start after her."
Traixe stared at him as if he were insane, but Kylin could do nothing to change that. He had to finish eating while the food was there in front of him, and that despite the fact he knew for certain that Tisah was gone. He burned to jump up and follow her, to pull her back and out of whatever danger she rode toward, but first he had to finish eating. Maybe he was going insane…
Once the meal had been hastily but thoroughly swallowed, Kylin led the way back upstairs and directly to the room Tisah had been using. Both Fighters were awake and watching, but when they followed him and Traixe through the door to find the room utterly empty, they were also mortified.
"My Lord, I swear to you, I was gone no more than a single moment!" Richin blurted immediately, making no attempt to deny the major fault that was his. "I felt a sudden and urgent need to relieve myself, but I returned to my post directly the need was seen to! How could she have known enough to leave then?"
"I think we're best off not asking ourselves questions like that," Kylin told the man, soothing him with the calm of his voice. "As it stands now we'll have to go after her again, but that 'we' refers to Traixe and myself. You two will have breakfast and get some sleep, and then head back to Gensea and the duke. Tell him we found the lady Sofaltis once so we'll find her again, but this time we don't intend to let her ride off without us. We'll catch up to her, spend a little time finding out what kind of trouble is brewing here in the mountains, and then we'll be home. It may take a while, so the duke isn't to worry."
If the two Fighters hadn't been well trained to obey orders rather than argue them, Kylin knew he would have had a mutiny on his hands. As it was the two men appealed to Traixe to allow at least one of them to stay, but Traixe had also had his orders. He and Kylin would go on while the Fighters went back, and that was that.
He and Traixe gathered up their things, paid the innkeeper, then went for their horses. It seemed to Kylin that they had a very long way to go before they got what they wanted, but he shook off the feeling and put it down to imagination. They would catch up to Tisah in no more than a few hours, and then he would do what he should have done in the first place.
Riding through mountains can be an interesting time, but not when the people you're riding with take the short way instead of the scenic route. Shortcuts tend to be breathtaking in a way lovers of nature don't ever think of, and if I hadn't been happily stuffed to nodding with the breakfast we'd brought away with us from the inn, I probably would have come closer to having my blood run cold.
As it was, even my outsides weren't all that cold. Kaffa had given me a fur-lined cape to wear in the chill of the early morning, and I suppose being warm and well fed makes me overlook little things like riding a trail that's barely wide enough for Bloodsheen, right beside a drop that goes down and down to the night that still clung to the lower reaches. We went through more than one place like that, but happily most of the trip took us by way of normal mountain trails that were simply surrounded by boring gray rock.
By the time we stopped for lunch we had reached an area of grass and trees that looked as though it belonged in the lowlands. A good part of it was grazing meadow, and the herd of cattle we could see a short distance off was using it for that purpose. The spring grass was really being enjoyed, just as those of us who rode together were enjoying being able to open or remove our fur cloaks. The air was still cool, but the sun was beginning to remember that spring usually comes just before summer.
"I used to love this time of year, but now it makes me sad," Kaffa said as she watched a couple of riders unwrapping more of the food we'd brought with us from the inn. "Springtime in a Blade Company means all the Blades ridin' out together to new battles, usin' all of their skill and talent and luck to survive, then spendin' their nights with friends lyin' about the brave and easy way they handled the enemy that day. No worries, no doubts pushin' them… I miss it, Softy, even though I know I'm beyond goin' back."
"Because you now have a family," I said with a nod of understanding, appreciating the lack of more noise than soft conversation to be heard among the better than twenty riders with us. "Once you have more than yourself to worry about, you're never free to live your own life again."
"My family really has nothin' to do with my bein' beyond goin' back," she said, looking at me with faint surprise. "Don't you know that we all come to the time when we have to grow up? That we can't be everythin' we're supposed to be unless we reach that time and recognize it for what it is? I miss the time of bein' a carefree child, but I wouldn't go back to that time even if I could."
"What makes being carefree something only for children?" I asked, annoyance rising immediately like a parry to an expected thrust. "And what's so damned carefree about fighting with a Sword Company, risking your neck for people who prefer to pay gold rather than protect themselves? The job is just as necessary as any other you might name, so what makes it an occupation for children?"
"Children don't know how to build," she answered calmly, refusing to rise to my anger. "Some of them can maintain what grownups build, but most take real pleasure in tearin' down or usin' up without thinkin' about replacin'. If they do build somethin' it's play buildin' meant to be torn down later, or toy buildin' meant only for their own use and pleasure. When you stop bein' a child you not only want to build instead of tear down, you want to build that stuff for more people than just yourself."
She gave me a polite smile and a nod before walking over to see what food was available, knowing damned well she wasn't leaving me with no opportunity to come back at her. At the moment I couldn't think of anything to say, not when she dragged ideas like that out of solid rock and blue sky. But at least she wasn't lecturing me any longer, the sort of benefit I could appreciate.
We had all helped ourselves to the food and had eaten well when a rider moving at a good clip came up from the direction we'd left. He was on the ground and running toward Kaffa even before his horse had come to a complete stop, but he also grinned. He reported whatever he had to say in a few sentences, got a short string of words in reply from the woman who was now also grinning, and then he trotted back to his horse. While he began to return the way he'd come at the same speed, Kaffa strolled over to me.
"I had occasion to set a group of fighters to watchin' our back trail," she reported as she crouched in front of me where I sat leaning against a tree. "I thought it possible somebody might try followin' us to where we're goin', and strangely enough that's exactly what happened. The fighters picked up two men ridin' right in our hoofprints, and how the men managed it wasn't the question. What I wanted done with them was the question, and now it's been answered. They'll be brought behind us, and should join us by the time we camp for the night."
"Kylin and Traixe," I said, knowing it for a fact. "They must have sent the Fighters back to tell my father they found me. I think I'd just about forgotten about them. Why weren't your fighters curious about how they were following? And if you'd decided you were going to take them captive, why didn't you save some trouble and do it at the inn?"
"I didn't want any accidents, so I told the fighters I thought the Spirits were havin' themselves a good time by helpin' those two," she answered. "That means we can try our own hand at stoppin' them and it's all part of the game, as long as we make sure they don't get hurt. That the Spirits would not consider part of the game. And I couldn't have had them taken back at the inn. No fightin' means no fightin', and that includes takin' prisoners by force of numbers. Anythin' else you want to know?"
"Only what you expect to do with them," I answered with a shrug. "For my part I would have been happier if they'd been left behind, the more behind, the happier I'd be."
"That means you still want him," she said, her grin suddenly returned. "If you didn't you wouldn't care where he was. You want me to help hold him down while you have your way with him?"
"That wouldn't be an adult thing to do," I returned, making no effort to share her amusement. "We grownups don't believe in forcing sexual favors from the unwilling, it's too backward and childish. Why don't you keep him near you, instead, and the two of you can have some nice long talks discussing my shortcomings. Meanwhile I'll have the peace and opportunity to think about that nonbuilding attack plan you want."
"I was goin' to say you're takin' all this too personally, but there aren't too many other ways to take it, are there?" she asked with a sigh, the grin gone again. "I know you're havin' trouble rememberin' I'm only tryin' to help, so I'd better keep quiet for a while to let the memory come back. If you should decide you want to talk about it, just let me know."
She straightened out of her crouch then and walked away, but being alone didn't help me as much as it should have. I didn't need Kaffa and Kylin and Traixe and my father there in front of me to still hear all their arguments. The words kept echoing their pattern of demand in my thoughts, telling me how wrong I was. All of them thought I was wrong, mostly for different reasons, and even Rull was basically on their side. He also wanted to see me married, and only disagreed with the choice of groom.
I, on the other hand, had just about reached the point of total indifference. I was tired of arguing with everyone in reach, tired of standing completely alone, sick of trying to make others understand how I felt. If I was unreasonable, and childish, and inconsiderate, and irresponsible, and undisciplined, then that's the way I was. If no matter what I did everyone around me would be shamed, hurt, or disappointed, then the sole path I could choose was clear.
I would help Kaffa with her problem, find Nimram and end all his plans permanently, and then get into a fight I couldn't possibly hope to walk away from. That would solve everyone's difficulty including mine, and I'd no longer have to worry about looking up to find a certain man right behind me, a man I couldn't stop thinking about. I'd lied to Kaffa when I'd said I'd forgotten, because I hadn't. I couldn't forget, and that particular lack was driving me crazy.
It wasn't long before we were on our way again, and I spent the travel time in deep thought. I should have been thinking about Kaffa's problem but she'd made no attempt to give me any of the details I'd need for even a preliminary plan, leading me to believe there was a lot she hadn't mentioned. I knew the mountain woman well enough to also know she'd tell me everything as soon as she could, and if she hadn't yet it was because she couldn't.
So I spent my time thinking about His Holiness Nimram I, and just how far he could go toward protecting himself. I didn't doubt for a moment that he had taken all sorts of precautions, even though no one was supposed to know about his part in the troubles. The places he spent most of his time would be boobytrapped, his "unarmed attendants" would be very well armed, and he might even have a few mercenaries hidden somewhere handy, just in case his attendants were gotten around. That meant I would be best off reaching him somewhere other than the places he spent most of his time, preferably during a trip somewhere … even though he and his people would be a good deal more alert during those times…
"We'll be campin' just ahead," Kaffa said suddenly, bringing me out of thought to an awareness of her riding beside me. "Through that pass is another meadow, and even though it gets cold at night it's better than campin' on rock."
For a wonder we were now riding an area of the mountain that was horizontal instead of vertical, a wide and well-worn corridor between peaks that led toward a slightly narrower pass. The pass slanted perceptibly upward, but compared to other places we'd traveled it was nothing at all to worry about.
"I thought mountain people didn't mind sleeping on rock," I commented, not the friendliest thing I'd ever said to her. "Are you making allowances for the soft lowlanders in your midst?"
"We always make allowances for those poor folk who weren't lucky enough to be born in the mountains," she answered, a grin clear in her voice even though it didn't show on her face. "Most of us learn to sleep on anythin' that happens to be there durin' our wild time, and even if we switch to bein' comfortable after we settle down we don't ever forget how it's done."
"But now you prefer being comfortable to being wild," I said, still giving more attention to our surroundings than to her. "A lot of people I know would prefer to have it the other way around, if for no other reason than to show they can still handle it."
"That's because they're still tryin' to prove somethin'," she said, completely unruffled by my prodding. "If there's one thing a wild time does for you, it's that it lets you know you've got nothin' more to prove. Some few folk don't need a wild time because there's nothin' screamin' inside them and proddin' at them, but the rest of us… We get to know just who we are and what we can do, and once we know so does everybody else. Nothin' left to prove."
"You get all that just from joining a Sword Company for a while?" I said, raising my brows in her direction. "It sounds like the experience is so worthwhile that those who stay in the Company should be considered very special individuals."
"Joinin' a Sword Company is only part of some women's wild time, a part that teaches them nothin' more than formal battle," she returned, that lecture-quality returning to her voice. "The real wild time is experienced here, in the upper reaches of these mountains, mostly in areas separated from the men. We do things they don't do, but usually because they don't want to do them."
"Didn't anyone ever tell them that it's childish not to do something just because you don't want to?" I asked, looking at her in a very … innocent way. "Real grownups just stand there with a smile, letting others ruin their lives, and never make a sound of protest."
"Of course it's childish to do somethin' or not do it just because you want to," she answered, this time sending me a smile. "That's why most of us go through the wild time, to let the childish part of us run free for a time. The men have no rules or laws or anythin' in their areas, and if you want to walk up to somebody and stab him in the back or kill him a different way, you do it. You have to know his friends will probably come after you if you do, though, and when they catch you they'll kill you real slow. And they might come after you even if you didn't do the original killin'. It all depends on what they think of you, and how good you are with a sword."
"Isn't an arrangement like that kind of hard on the male population?" I asked with a frown, wondering if she was telling the truth or creating an elaborate joke. "Being able to kill anyone at any time - and chancing having the same thing done to you - doesn't sound like the best of all possible lifestyles."
"It's a time of pure freedom, where nobody else can tell you what to do," she said, and now she was the one looking elsewhere in a distracted way. "You get tired of bein' treated like a child when you don't feel like a child anymore, but families tend to do that to their young ones. By the time you leave for wildin' you're just about ready to explode, and a lot do explode once they get to the upper reaches. The smart ones do it by drinkin' themselves numb a time or three, or carryin' on with anybody handy and willin'. The stupid ones - "
She paused as her words broke, her sight on something other than the rock around us, faint disturbance putting a small crease in her forehead.
"The stupid ones grab it all with both hands, intent on showin' everybody whatever it is they think they're provin'," she continued. "They usually start by gettin' into fights with those they think they can best, and if they live they move on to other things. Like slittin' the throat of anybody they find passed-out drunk, or settin' ambushes for those they don't think they can best, or forcin' themselves on those who are unwillin'. Some even go after the ones who bring up food and drink for the wilders, men who wear bright-colored headbands to show they're just passin' through. If they live through doin' that, they think they have it made."
"A combination of their own hunting preserve and a private heaven," I commented in a murmur, but she didn't seem to hear me.
"Of course they don't have it made, especially if they start gettin' cocky," she went on. "Cocky leads to sloppy, and then the others start lookin' in his direction. Most times that's all it takes, and pretty soon the stupid one is screamin' out his pain as his life flows away. If he doesn't get cocky and sloppy, well, maybe it takes a little longer, but they usually still get him. And if they don't he usually stays in the upper reaches, where he can go on doin' as he pleases forever."
"Which means two things," I said, just about thinking out loud. "The general population doesn't have to suffer because of his sickness, and the upper reaches are made even more dangerous than having no laws does all by itself. If you survive a place like that, you do know just how good you are. I wonder in what way the women's areas are different."
"Most of the women's areas don't have men," Kaffa said, surprising me by having heard what I'd said. "There's no law there either, but there is that rule about men. If you want to do your wildin' with the boys you go to a special area or to the men's areas altogether, but most girls don't. Blue juice isn't easy to come by in the mountains, and since that's the only good way we know to keep from havin' a baby, you don't mess around if you don't want one. Otherwise it's all the same, but some find it borin' after a while and take themselves off to a Sword Company - or to checkin' on which of the men can do best with makin' them feel good. After she marries, a mountain woman usually doesn't mess around."
We were cresting the pass by then, and from there I could see the meadow Kaffa had mentioned earlier. There were no herds visible in the late afternoon light, and the air was beginning to get cold again.
"No, I wasn't lecturin' you again," Kaffa said with a sigh that was part exasperation. "If you don't think all your years of fightin' and messin' around have made you ready to settle down, I'm not sayin' they should have. I'm only tellin' you how we do it."
"That's very generous of you," I granted her, running a hand over Bloodsheen's neck. "I'd be very upset if I thought you disapproved of the way I lived my life."
"Up till now you haven't been livin' a life," she countered, full annoyance finally coming through. "Your life has just been happenin', one incident after another, and you've just been along for the ride. Now somethin' finally happens that's about to throw you, and you spend your time complainin' that nobody else is bein' thrown when you ought to be workin' on your balance. And in case you hadn't noticed, now I am lecturin'!"
The words ended with a sharp nod of her head, and then she had heeled her horse into pulling ahead and away from Bloodsheen and me. I watched her go with mixed feelings, but the most pressing of them wasn't regret. I was glad she wouldn't be pestering me any longer, but the confusion she kept causing was getting worse than ever.
It wasn't long before a campsite was decided on, and then we were all busy for a while taking care of our mounts. By the time that was done there were fires blazing around the campsite, and the smell of cooking meat was being spread by the small, cold breeze that slid through the air around us. I pulled my fur-lined cloak tighter as I made for one of the fires, ignoring the cause of the small stir that had momentarily taken people's attention a few minutes earlier.
But Kaffa wasn't ignoring the stir. When Kylin and Traixe had been brought into camp, Kylin had apparently decided to come over and talk to me. The men guarding him and Traixe hadn't agreed, and there had been a moderate to-do keeping him where they wanted him. The fact that he was unarmed hadn't stopped him from trying to get his way, and it had taken Kaffa's intervention to get things calmed down again. She had started a conversation with him and Traixe, one that was still going on.
"I guess it'll be a while before they cover all my shortcomings and lacks," I muttered, stopping close to a fire that currently had no one near it. The cooking was being done on two of the other fires, and the rest were for warming bones. "They may even come to the philosophical conclusion that sometimes the wrong person is born into the wrong place in life, and all you can do about it is try to civilize them. And tie them down if they won't hold still long enough to let you do it."
But they'd never see any of that as wrong, I knew, crouching down to warm my hands near the blaze. Adults did what they were supposed to and I was an adult, and why was I making such a fuss anyway? They weren't going to torture and kill me, after all, or lock me in a dungeon and feed me scraps through a grate. All they wanted me to do was something most people did anyway, something most people wanted to do. Didn't that mean I should also want it, just the way they did?
"Lady, Kaffa says you better come quick," a male voice interrupted my thoughts, making me look up. "She's havin' a problem and thinks maybe you can help."
The man was one of Kaffa's riders, and even though he didn't sound terribly upset he also wasn't joking. When I straightened out of the crouch and looked to where I'd seen Kaffa last, there were a lot more people standing around and they seemed to be watching something. I really felt no curiosity at all about what they might be watching, but with my presence having been requested I had no choice about going over and joining them.
The men and women standing there stepped aside when I began to thread my way through them, so it wasn't long before the last light of the day showed me the scene of confrontation. Kylin stood to the right with Traixe just behind him, Kaffa stood in the middle, and over to the left was an armed and very determined-looking Reedin. The boy was staring at Kylin, who was looking more than a little annoyed.
"Ah, there you are, Softy," Kaffa said when she saw me, gesturing me closer. "We've got a small misunderstandin' goin' here, and since you're the center of it I thought you could - "
"It's no misunderstandin'," Reedin interrupted calmly, his eyes still on Kylin. "That one's tryin' to say you belong to him, and that just plain ain't so. The Spirits said you'd belong to the one whose life you saved, and that one's me. Either he takes back what he said, or he gets a weapon and faces me."
"Boy, that man's a prisoner," Kaffa said with a growl, her left palm rubbing against her sword hilt in a gesture of anger I'd seen before. "He's not goin' to be gettin' his sword, not for a long while yet, so he can't face you. And even beyond that, it doesn't matter what he says, does it, Softy?"
"I ain't no boy," Reedin stated in a matching growl, speaking before I could. "Tophin said folk see you as a man when you act like one, so that's just what I'm doin'. And I heard you tell them they could have their weapons back as soon as we got to the Valley of the Cave, and till then they'd be unarmed guests. It don't matter what a prisoner says, but a guest ain't the same. Tell him to take back what he said or let him face me."
"Softy, I called you over to help," Kaffa said between her teeth, her glare trying to kill Reedin and me together. "Don't just stand there, say somethin'!"
"Sure, Kaffa, I'll be glad to," I told her, feeling so tired on the inside that I just wanted to curl up somewhere warm and sleep forever. "What would you like me to say?"
"Tell the boy he's doin' wrong!" she said in a strangled shout, losing the fight to control her temper. "Tell that lowlander to take back what he said! Tell the Spirits to go play with themselves, if you like, but just say somethin'!"
"You know, Kaffa, you still have the best sense of humor of anyone I ever met," I said, giving her as much of a smile as I could manage. "I spend weeks talking myself pale and feeble while no one listens, and I'm the one you ask to say something. Reedin doesn't need me to tell him how to act like a man, he's obviously already learned the lesson. Let a woman know you want her, then ignore her when she says she doesn't want you. Go out and get into a fight with a stranger just to prove how possessive you are, and then come back to her with the stranger's blood on your weapon to show your love."
By then Reedin's gaze had left Kylin to come to me, and the frown he wore only echoed the deeper disturbance in his dark eyes.
"Or don't come back at all, depending on how good the stranger is," I went on. "Getting killed should really prove something, especially since the Spirits went so far as to name you as the one the woman would belong to. Or did they just speak about a nameless someone whose life the woman had saved? It couldn't possibly be that she'd ever managed to save others… No, Kaffa, me trying to tell anyone anything is the biggest joke I ever heard, and if you don't believe that you can ask your honored guests. They keep doing as they please no matter what I say, and so does everyone else. I recommend looking for someone more effective to help."
"Softy, don't…" I heard Kaffa begin as I turned away, Reedin's disturbance now reaching to her. I just kept going through the men and women who stepped out of my way, even when I heard, "Tisah, wait!" from behind me. I wanted to pay attention to that second voice, I wanted it so much that the feeling was almost pain, but there was no sense in it. Avoiding an almost-pain by accepting a time of unavoidable agony was stupid, and I'd already exceeded my stupid-allotment for this time of my life.
Kaffa caught up to me before I got back to my fire, and in truth I was faintly surprised that she was alone. Her right arm circled my shoulders above the cloak I wore, and her left hand came to my left arm.
"Softy, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to stop me in mid pace. "I've never heard you sound like that before, and I don't like it. As if you were all empty on the inside…"
"Aren't you cold walking around like that?" I asked in turn, refusing to let her keep me from moving closer to the fire. "Even wrapped in this cloak I'm freezing, so I don't know how you can stand it."
"Reedin went off to think about what you said," she told me with a sigh, giving up on trying to keep me stopped. "He hasn't changed his mind yet, I don't think, but he's considerin' what he heard. And Kylin would like to talk to you."
"Guest or no guest, if you let him come near me I'll leave," I stated, putting my hands out to the fire as soon as I reached it. "Your Spirits are tearing me up into small pieces, and if you do one more thing to help them you can fight your battle without me. But you only have their roundabout word on how vital my presence will be, so why don't you try calling my bluff? I'm really tired of being cold."
"How can you say I'm helpin' the Spirits?" she demanded, but with a lot less heat than she'd probably intended. "Didn't I get you away from the inn without him findin' out? Didn't I leave fighters to take him prisoner if he followed? Isn't he under guard this very minute, sittin' back there when he wants to be over here talkin' to you? What more can I do?"
"For me or for him?" I countered, sitting down in front of the fire without looking at her. "As long as he's here rather than somewhere else, as long as he's an 'unarmed guest' rather than a prisoner, it's his cause you're moving in rather than mine. But I can understand that, I really can. Not only do you agree with him and his intentions, you also know the mountain Spirits are supporting him. With all that I don't expect you to be on my side, so I'm giving you no choice at all. If you let him come near me, I'm out of here."
She was silent for a moment or two while I stared into the fire, possibly staring at me in the same way. She seemed to know I hadn't been lying about not blaming her, and then she crouched beside me with her arm back around my shoulders.
"Sister, you mustn't feel as if the whole world is against you," she whispered, her voice not terribly even. "Maybe it looks like that right now, but it isn't so. The Spirits are on his side, but only because he really needs their help. He's the one meant for you, but so many things are gettin' in the way that soon you two won't even be able to see each other. I'm not on his side, Softy, I'm on yours, and I want you to be as happy as I am."
I didn't say a word about happiness being different things to different people. I was too tired to start the argument all over again, even if it would have done some good. The yellow and orange flames I watched were perfectly happy, consuming everything they touched and turning that everything into smoking, blackened ruin. Fire didn't ask first if it could burn and pain didn't ask if it could hurt, and all the wishing in the world couldn't change something that was into something that you wanted it to be.
"I don't know how long I can keep him away from you without tyin' him up," Kaffa said with a sigh once the silence had stretched on too long, taking her arm back. "But at least I don't have to worry about bein' tempted by havin' him so close. He's not lookin' at any woman but you, and that's no lie. I'll leave you be till you've got some hot food in you, and then we'll talk again. I still need to tell you about the Valley of the Cave."
She patted my shoulder before straightening up and walking away, pretending that when she came back she'd be talking about the battle we had ahead of us. I said nothing as I pretended to believe her, and that way premature argument was avoided. Keeping argument in its proper place was vital, I was beginning to understand, as vital as avoiding thoughts that tried to crowd into your mind to give you pain. Don't think about them any more than you think about light eyes, and broad shoulders, and strong arms, and a beautiful smile and…
Kylin watched the woman Kaffa approach them across the campsite, and he could almost feel her dejection. It was close to the same thing he himself felt, but his had a lot more frustration added in.
"Well?" Kylin demanded as the woman drew close, standing in spite of the way his guards felt about that. "When can I talk to her?"
"I'll try again after we're done eatin', but I still can't promise anythin'," the woman said with one hand up, her voice as weary as her gesture. "She figured out where I stand in this, and says she'll leave if I let you anywhere near her. I know that girl, brother, and from that I know she's not bluffin'. If I give you your way, I lose her help for the battle in the Valley of the Cave. Since the Spirits tell me I need her if I want to win, you're goin' to have to hold off on that talk you want."
"But I have to try to do something about the hurt she's feeling," Kylin said, seeing only distantly the way Kaffa flinched at the growl in his voice, feeling only distantly the way his hands closed to fists. "You saw what she looked like, wounded so badly she should have been ankle deep in her own blood. I have to hold her tight and make her believe that everything will work out, I simply have to."
"You can't," the woman stated, her hand coming to the middle of his chest while other, stronger hands came to his arms. "Not only will she refuse to believe, she'll ride away feelin' worse than ever. Is that what you want? To make her feel worse?"
Kylin looked down at the woman in front of him, and it finally came through that if her men weren't holding his arms she would probably be reaching for her weapon. Lately he seemed to be affecting a lot of women that way, and it might have been funny if it wasn't so painful.
"This whole situation has long since passed beyond ludicrous," he said after a moment, ignoring her question but at the same time making no effort to fight free of her men. "No matter what I say, no matter what I don't do, things just keep getting worse between us. If your Spirits really were on my side that would change, but it isn't happening. If you believe what you said, you have to let me try to make it happen."
"No wonder she doesn't want to talk to you," the woman remarked, looking up at him sourly. "You come up with the most outrageous demands, and make them sound reasonable and logical. Talkin' to you is a lot like talkin' to the Spirits, but in your case there's no 'have to' about it. You'll sit back down there with your friend and eat your food when it's brought, and after we all finish eatin' I'll try talkin' to Softy again. In the meanwhile you'll be patient and wait, because if you take even one step in her direction before I say you can I'll have you clouted so hard you won't wake up for a week. And in case you're wonderin', I don't do much bluffin' either."
The woman's dark eyes speared him where he stood before she turned away, leaving him in no doubt about how serious she was. It was still almost more than Kylin could do to accept her decision, though, and he might have made an unbearable situation intolerable if Traixe hadn't chosen that moment to step in front of him.
"Lord Kylin, the woman is right," he said, his tone urging belief. "If Sofaltis won't even listen to what you want to tell her, what's the sense in fighting your way to her side? Let's give it a short while, and if she can't be convinced to change her mind then I'll stand with you."
"Traixe, if you expect Tisah to change her mind, I'm worried about you," Kylin grudged, but he no longer strained the grips of the hands on his arms. "If you think I should wait then I'll wait, but this is absolutely the last time. After the meal she and I are going to have a talk, and if I have to go over every man and woman in these mountains to accomplish that, I will."
He pulled away from the men holding him to turn and walk back to where he'd been sitting, paying no attention to the pained expressions on most of the faces around him. The mountain people didn't seem too anxious to fight someone who had the backing of the mountain Spirits, but that didn't matter. Even if they decided to fight anyway, Kylin had meant what he'd said.
The meal was a quiet one for such a large group, and those who weren't deep in thought whispered together rather than speak in normal voices. Darkness had settled completely around them, bringing a heavier cold, and everyone sat as close to a fire as they could. Food was chewed and swallowed, brew was wished for while water was drunk in its place, and very few decided on second helpings of whatever they had.
Kylin was trying very hard not to notice how thin his patience was running. The food had disappeared down his throat without his having to force it, but the fact that he'd been able to eat was only faintly distracting. His mind was too full of acts and consequences, disclosures and reactions. It was past time for Tisah to be told the full truth, but if he did it while he was a barely tolerated "guest" and she free to come and go, she would be gone before the last of it was said. He had almost asked the woman Kaffa just how far a man's rights went with respect to his wife here in the mountains, but he'd stopped himself. If the answer was too different from what it would be in the lowlands, he would have given away the truth for nothing…
"Lowlander." The voice was still a little too thin to be completely a man's voice, but the grim intent in it was fully adult. Kylin wasn't the only one near the fire to turn his head and look up, but he was the only one being addressed. "Tophin said a man thinks first before he acts, so I've been thinkin'," the boy Reedin continued. "It ain't smart challengin' a stranger to a fight, but it's got nothin' to do with the love a man feels for a woman. When somebody tries to take his woman a man don't feel love, he gets mad. You take back what you said about my woman, or you face me with a weapon."
"She isn't your woman," Kylin couldn't help saying, deep frustration quickly bringing him to the point of rage as he stood. "And if you think you're the only one who loves her, you are still a boy. I understand she saved your life. Be grateful and be smart, and take that life somewhere else. If you keep pressing me, you won't have it much longer."
"A man's life ain't worth much if he won't risk it for the things he sees as important," the boy answered, drawing himself up in unshakable decision. "She keeps sayin' she don't want a man, but what she means is she don't want you. Once I see to it you're not around anymore, she can relax and look in my direction. Somebody give him back his sword."
Under normal circumstances Kylin would never even have considered facing a child, but it had been ages and aeons since things had been normal and the boy before him was mountain-bred. The boy's level of skill had to be higher than that of most mercenaries, and the boy had made up his mind not to let their disagreement pass unnoticed. If the object of their contention had been anything but Tisah, Kylin would have been able to give the boy what he wanted without a fight. Where his woman was concerned, however, he simply couldn't do it. After all his struggles it was still possible for him to lose her, which meant even talking about giving her away was totally beyond him.
"Yes, somebody give me back my sword," Kylin agreed, holding out his right hand without taking his eyes off the boy. "I won't need it for long, not against him."
Reedin's lips tightened as anger clearly flowed through him, and at another time Kylin would have shaken his head with a sigh. No experienced fighter lets his opponent get him angry, not when the emotion will force him to waste his strength and fight without thinking. But the boy's whole trouble was that he wasn't experienced, and that was why they were in the middle of this mess to begin with.
At first Kylin thought the men around him were waiting for orders from the woman Kaffa, but apparently a fight between men didn't have to have the approval of anyone but the participants. After no more than a brief hesitation his sword was put into his hand, so he stood there waiting for the boy to draw. Again, an experienced fighter would have been ready as soon as he was, to save himself from immediate attack if nothing else.
Reedin took his time getting his weapon out and in front of him, and it finally came to Kylin that the boy must be returning his insult in the mountain way. When you don't think someone has the skill to harm you, you can take all the time you like getting ready. The boy wore a faint smile and there was chuckling from some of the spectators, but Kylin just matched the smile. During his years as a Fighter, the only one who had ever come close to making him lose his temper was Tisah. Kylin would have had more than one problem facing her, but happily she wasn't the one he had to fight.
His actual opponent didn't spend much time on gestures and attempted insult. As soon as he was fully set he attacked, and Kylin couldn't help but admire the boy's skill even as he defended himself from it. Reedin was fast and strong for someone his age, and his cuts and thrusts were decisive and assured. Kylin's size and larger weapon were factors to be considered in the fight, but nothing to be overly concerned about. Winning was the only thing that concerned Reedin, and he obviously meant to go straight for that very desirable end.
Without first trying to find out how good Kylin was. The boy was fighting as if his own skill was all that mattered, and once again Kylin would have sighed. Self confidence was a very necessary trait in a fighter, but overconfidence did nothing but get you killed. If your opponent is holding a weapon, you have to assume he knows how to use it until and unless you learn better by pressing him. Deciding he can't possibly be as good as you is the blindness of a death wish, the foolishness of inexperience.
And that was still the boy's greatest flaw, despite the skill of his arm: inexperience. Kylin waited just long enough to see what Reedin was capable of, and then he began to take advantage of that flaw. Kylin was a King's Fighter, and if a King's Fighter didn't very quickly become experienced, he very quickly became dead.
Rather than simply defending against attack, Kylin began to counter and press, turning Reedin's advances to his own advantage. The boy had looked really good until now, but most people do when they're on the offensive. Kylin forced him into defense, using a good part of his own speed and strength to break through attacks and turn them into frantic attempts at self preservation. Reedin had to jump back out of harm's way instead of lunging forward with full confidence, and the turnabout took the edge off his beliefs of invulnerability.
And then Kylin saw his chance to finish the fight. Reedin struck wildly while obviously off balance, an attempt to keep his opponent back while he pulled himself together, but the movement was reflex rather than training, desperation rather than planning. Kylin struck the boy's blade aside and quickly moved forward, then bashed him in the face with a hilt-filled fist. Reedin collapsed to the ground as if poleaxed, just as many before him had done, and Kylin stepped back to look around at those who watched.
"When he wakes up, somebody explain to him that the usual follow-through on that move is three feet of steel through the guts rather than a fist in the face," he said, his blade held at his side. "He's alive now only because I don't believe in murdering children, but his next opponent might not be so fussy. And now that I've come out as the winner, what I've won is a few minutes of conversation with the woman of my choice. Does anyone care to argue with that?"
The men and women watching grinned to each other, an appreciation of Kylin's generosity and skill clear in the exchange. Since Reedin had started the fight Kylin would have been within his rights if he'd killed the boy, and the fact that he hadn't killed impressed the spectators. None of them looked as though they intended to interfere with the conversation he was determined to have - none, at least, until the woman Kaffa appeared in front of him.
"I hate havin' to be the one to tell you this, brother," she said with an expression half commiserative and half amused. "You did win, no argument about that, but as far as conversation goes you have a small problem. Sorry."
She stepped back then to gesture across the campsite, and Kylin's heart constricted at the thought that Tisah had already ridden off. But he saw immediately that she wasn't gone, even though she almost might as well have been. She lay wrapped in a cloak by the fire she'd chosen earlier, and if she wasn't sound asleep she was doing a good job of pretending.
"By Evon's sharpest hell!" Kylin growled, putting his left fist to his hip as he seriously considered waking her. All that trouble for nothing! He turned toward Traixe to say that he was going to wake her and consequences be damned, but the older Fighter wasn't standing there ready to join with him. He lay wrapped in a blanket near their own fire, and despite having been no more than two steps away from the middle of a fight, looked as though he were sound asleep. Now, wasn't that strange…
The familiar rock corridor was beginning to annoy me, and that in spite of the fact that I wasn't likely to be attacked here. I glared at the walls as I walked, almost wishing something would attack me, trying to figure out why I was in such a horrible mood. My latest memories were vague and without any real detail, but the emotions rolling around every part of them…!
"I must have had another argument with someone," I decided in a mutter, kicking at a pebble in my path. "I never thought I'd ever get this sick and tired of arguing, but I've never tried to prove this sticky a point before. Whatever point it is I'm trying to prove."
Which comment just about summed up how I felt. The disagreement had gone on so long and taken such strange turnings that I was beginning to lose sight of the place I'd started from. Everything anyone said or did now just confused me more, but one fact was managing to stay with me: I simply couldn't give in.
"Or the world will end," I muttered, extremely unhappy. "That or something equally as drastic, like everyone's clothing suddenly being out of style, or none of the right people getting invited to the king's next ball. Why can't they all just leave me alone?"
"Only ordinary people are left alone," a voice said, and I looked up to see Traixe, standing there with Rull. "Since you weren't born to be ordinary, you can't expect that sort of treatment."
"Just looking at you shows you're not ordinary," Rull agreed, his expression serious. "When the Fist and I first met you, we tried to figure out what it was about you that attracted us so. We all knew women who were prettier and a couple of men who were better fighters, but no one seemed to have what you did."
"It's called the knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time," I told him, pronouncing the words clearly and distinctly. "I'm so talented at that I even arranged to be born in the wrong spot. But that doesn't mean I don't have the right to be left alone. If necessary, my sword and I will insist."
"You can't be including Traixe and me in on that," Rull said with a grin while Traixe looked amused. "I know this man by reputation, and I also know I'm the only one in the Fist you can't match. If you're looking for a fight, you'll have to look for it with someone else."
"Says who?" I countered, giving each of them a small, bright smile. "I can start a fight with anyone I please, especially if they happen to be telling me what I can and can't do. And especially if I don't care whether I win or lose. Look at it that way, and there's no end to the things you can do. Shall we get moving now?"
"Are you sure you're getting enough rest, Sofaltis?" Traixe demanded, no longer as amused as he'd been. "You and Kylin didn't spend as much time in the waters of renewal as you should have, and you in particular didn't stay long in the sheltering mist. You need time in the mist to replace the sleep you're losing, otherwise what you'll also be losing is strength and reason."
"How do you know that?" I asked, feeling the confusion clutching at me again. "And even beyond that, what's it supposed to mean? What sleep am I losing, and how can spending time in mist replace it?"
"I have no idea," he answered with a sigh, and I got the feeling his response referred to all the questions I'd asked. "For some reason a lot of my memory is cloudy, especially on the point of where some of the facts come from. But I'm not unsure about the information. What I told you just now is all true."
"True or not, there's nothing we can do about it right at this moment," I said, dismissing the feeling that I could use a day's worth of sleep. "We're all here for a reason, and that's what has to be our primary concern. We'll do whatever it is that we have to do, and then we'll worry about resting."
"But we can't start yet," Rull protested when I turned to continue up the passageway. "Kylin isn't here, which means we have to wait for him."
"You wait for him, then," I threw back over my shoulder, the whole mass of dissatisfaction and sourness descending on me again. "I told him once that I didn't care much for waiting, but he's apparently ignoring that along with everything else I say. I want this over and done with so I can get on to other things. Standing around waiting will only drag it out."
"Sofaltis, you're being unreasonable," Traixe grumbled as he hurried after me, Rull hesitating a long moment in indecision before doing the same. "If you and Kylin are supposed to be doing this task together - which you are, or he wouldn't have been here to start with - then you're being very foolish by not waiting for him. For all you know, it's the enemy playing on your impatience in order to separate the two of you."
"Which could cause more damage than you seem to realize," Rull chimed in from behind me and to the left. "It's been fairly obvious that you're the one meant to find our proper path, and if something happens to you the rest of us are as good as lost. If you were leading the fight against us, who would you designate as the primary target?"
"Especially if her judgment is being affected by lack of sleep," Traixe added, closing the circle he'd opened. "If Kylin is this late it can't possibly be his own fault, but you're being made to believe that it is. There must be something ahead that you can't manage alone, but the enemy wants you to try it anyway. Use your head, girl, or you'll find yourself walking into a trap."
What I used was a few more strides to think over what they'd said, finding that I still wasn't completely convinced.
"What you said could be true, or it could be an elaborate excuse to cause a delay that we can't afford to have," I said at last, glancing at each of them. "Since we don't know which to believe, let's take a look at what we'll be facing at the end of this passage. If it's a trap, we should be able to figure it out."
Neither of them was terribly happy with my decision, but it was too … reasonable to argue with. Or possibly they could have argued, but not refused to go along. I had the feeling there was more involved in their being unarmed than the simple lack of weapons. Freedom of choice seemed also to have been taken away, an experience I knew absolutely nothing about.
We walked on for another few minutes, my impatience setting a pace my companions tried to slow by dragging their feet, but apparently they realized that if I got too far ahead they might lose me. Since they couldn't force me to slow down they had to increase their own pace, so it wasn't very long before we reached the spot where the corridor widened out. I could see it ahead of me as I approached it, but I didn't know what I was approaching until I reached it and looked out.
This time there was mostly nothing ahead of me, the nothing being composed of orange-tinted air filling an abyss whose bottom was nowhere in sight. Rock circled the openness a middling distance to left and right, but that still left a whole lot of openness. Right in the middle of the lip of the chasm was the foot of a ridiculously narrow stone bridge that spanned the gulf in a shallow gray arc, ending on the other side where the corridor apparently started again. There were no handrails of any sort visible, not even strung rope, nothing but the gray stone bridge which was, at most, two feet wide.
"Maybe we would be better off crossing by way of that side corridor," Rull said from my left, gesturing to the right. "I don't know about you, but I'd be much happier having stone walls around me in place of air."
"I share your preference, but the proper path doesn't," I answered, only glancing at the narrow corridor all the way to the right that seemed to go in the same direction, only a bit more safely. "It's that bridge we have to take, even if we don't much care for the idea. I wonder if we'd be better off crossing one at a time, or going together in a linked line."
"I'd say that would depend on whether or not we can expect to be attacked," Rull commented, leaning out just a little to look upward. "A man crossing alone would have to take his eyes off where he put his feet to watch where he swung his sword, and that would be a disadvantage for our side. In a group at least one can continue watching the path, while the rest do the defending."
"The rest?" I said with my brows raised. "When two of the group aren't armed with anything more menacing than harsh words? I'd almost forgotten that, and it means we can't go across one at a time even if we want to. You and Traixe would be ribbon-tied gifts for anything that came along, so that part of the question is settled. Now all that's left to decide is what order we go across in. What do you think, Traixe?"
Considering how quiet my father's advisor had been, I was expecting a well thought out response with lots of reasons to back the decision. When a moment or two passed and I still didn't hear anything, I turned to my right to look at Traixe and for an instant thought I looked at a stranger. The big man had gone very pale, his body trembled faintly, and I could see the strangest look in his eyes.
"Traixe, what's wrong?" I asked, seriously concerned as I stepped closer to him. "You look as though your worst enemy has his edge against the throats of your wife and children. What's the matter?"
"This is as far as I go," he whispered, making no effort to bring that intense gaze to my face. "I'm sorry to have to let you down, Sofaltis, but I can't - " He swallowed hard, then shook his head very slightly. "I'm sorry, but I simply can't."
"What can't you do?" I asked, back to being confused. "Think of what would be the best order for us to cross in? Why let it get you so upset? Rull and I can make the decision, we don't mind. You just relax and take it easy, and by the time we get to the next obstacle you'll be back to your old self. There's no need to think that you've come to the end of your road."
"The next obstacle?" he echoed in an unaccepting way, his head beginning to shake back and forth. "You think you can force me to go closer to that - that - ! I won't, do you hear me, I won't! I'll kill you if you try!"
"Traixe, get a grip on yourself!" I said with as much command as I could muster, badly shaken by the way his voice had risen to a scream. I'd never seen him act like that, never in my entire life, and I was so upset I moved nearer to put a hand on his arm. That was only one of my mistakes, but it was the one I got the fastest reaction to.
"No, don't touch me!" he shrieked, absolutely beside himself, and then I was pushed away with such force that I stumbled back at least half a dozen steps. Unfortunately for me I wasn't far from the edge of the abyss, and when Traixe followed and pushed me again I went over.
I heard Rull shout something as he slammed into Traixe, forcing him back and away from his attack on me, but I was too busy to pay them much attention. I'd grabbed frantically for a hold on the edge of the corridor floor and had gotten one, but it wasn't a hold I could do much with. My legs were kicking against empty air, my hands were slipping from the uneven rock under them, and I could even taste the dirt not far from my face. I was sliding down over the edge and would soon be falling, and the scuffling sounds of Rull's struggle with Traixe said he would not be back in time to stop it.
I don't think I would have made a sound going over, but not because I'm too brave to scream. Fear had my throat closed so tight that I could barely breathe; all I could see was the way my hold slipped, all I could feel was the gritty rock under my fingertips. I slid through forever toward that bottomless nothingness - and then there was a hand on my right wrist, another with a fistful of my leather tunic in back. Both hands had not only stopped my fall but were pulling me farther up onto the rock, and as soon as I could I added a scrambling crawl to the pull. After that my knees found purchase, and then I was hauled all the way to my feet.
But not to stand alone. Aside from the fact that I couldn't have stood alone, my rescuer had no intention of even letting me try. His arms held me so tightly to him that I was nearly crushed, but all I could do in response was lean against him with my eyes closed and my hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt. We stood like that until I was able to breathe and swallow again, and then I became aware of someone else standing to my left.
"I may be mistaken," Rull drawled from his place to my left, "but I think we just found out the details of that trap we were discussing earlier. If I hadn't stopped Traixe he would have kicked you over the edge instead of just pushing, and another minute's delay and Kylin would have gotten here too late to save you. Would you like to tell me again how unnecessary it is to wait until all of us are ready to move together?"
"Once we get everything sorted out, she can tell me," Kylin's voice came from above my head, his tone close to a growl. "If I don't like what I hear - and I'll bet gold that I won't - she and I will go on from there. There's a big difference between independence and stupidity, and it's about time she learned to tell them apart."
"Thank you for saving my life, but you can also save the lecture," I said, pushing away from him to stand alone. "I made a mistake in judgment and almost paid for it with my life. Since I'm not trying to deny the fact, the least you can do is not bother me about it. Rull, how's Traixe?"
"Not too good," Rull answered, his glance at Kylin very brief and utterly expressionless. "Once I got him far enough away from the edge he lost most of the craziness, but now he's ashamed and horrified over the way he acted. I wish I knew what was wrong with him."
"Traixe has a fear of heights," Kylin supplied, running a weary hand through his hair. "The higher we climbed into the mountains the more he suffered, but the reaction was never this violent. It's as if someone multiplied his fear by ten."
"I wonder who could have done that," Rull said sourly, looking back and forth between Kylin and me. "And you two, being our side's designated champions, have to figure a way around the problem. You have no idea how relieved I am that Evon doesn't have that kind of faith in me."
"I think I'm getting very tired of people having faith in me," I muttered, moving to where I could see Traixe sitting on the stone, his face buried in his hands. "If they give up on you in disgust they also leave you alone, which would feel awfully good right about now. Let's go get our fourth in on the conversation, and see if we can figure out what to do next."
I walked back to where Traixe was and put a hand on his shoulder, but was almost knocked over when he twisted violently away from me. The words of guilt and apology and more guilt were mostly muffled by his hands, but I could still tell they'd been carved out of pain and self-loathing. The only thing I could do was let Kylin and Rull hold him still while they worked to calm him, and then I tried my own hand at it a second time.
"Come on, Traixe, we don't have time for all this melodrama," I said with every bit of exasperation and impatience I could call up. "This could have been done to any one of us, so if you just sit there blaming yourself the only one you're helping is the enemy. Personally, I'd like to get even for the way he almost cost me my life, but as long as you just sit there having hysterics like an old woman I'm not going to be able to do it. Do you think you could simply put off the breast-beating until we've got this behind us?"
"Yes, putting off certain things is sometimes for the best," Kylin said from his crouch beside Traixe, one big hand on the other man's shoulder. "Since half of this mess is Tisah's fault, so is half the blame. But we don't have the time now to point that out to her in a way she'll remember. Once we get where we're going, you can help me explain just how much pain she caused you by refusing to listen to reason."
I felt tempted to argue his interpretation of recent events, or at least his assumption that he had anything to say about it, but Traixe seemed finally to be calming down. The man I'd known all my life sat with his head hanging for another moment, and then he raised that head to show the bleakness in his eyes.
"I think I like both ideas," he said to Kylin in a scratchy voice. "Getting even with whoever made me feel like that, and later explaining to Sofaltis how it would have been for me if I'd ended up responsible for her death. I'm as ready as I'm going to be, my lord. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to do the hardest job of all," Kylin answered before I could say a word, not even asking for suggestions about a plan. "It's fairly obvious we have to go over that bridge, but you won't be able to do it. You'll have to stay here while the rest of us continue on, but you must believe that we'll be back for you. Don't try to force yourself to follow us, just wait until we find a way for you around that bridge."
By now Kylin had straightened up, and before Rull or I could make a single sound in protest Traixe scrambled erect with a big smile on his face.
"Lord Kylin, you're the wisest of leaders!" he said with a laugh of pure relief, the bleakness completely gone from him. "Of course I'll wait here, I'll be delighted to wait here! You don't know how grateful I - "
Traixe's babbling cut off immediately when Kylin hit him, a heavy fist to the jaw also cutting off his consciousness. His body barely had time to slump before Kylin caught it, and then he looked at Rull.
"I'm afraid you're the only choice for carrying him," my ex-Fistmate was told as he watched Kylin heave Traixe's body higher. "Tisah and I have to be free to fight if necessary, and it will probably be necessary. It should be easier for you if you can get him draped over your shoulders."
"Why did you do that?" I demanded of Kylin as Rull moved forward with a sigh, obviously prepared to take the unmoving body. "He said he was ready to do whatever he had to, so we could have blindfolded him. You didn't have to knock him out."
"We could have blindfolded him if he wasn't still under the influence of whatever made him try to kill you," I was told while Traixe was being arranged across Rull's shoulders. "If he had come totally back to himself, he never would have agreed to staying behind no matter how frightened he was. He and Rullin are the ones who have to get where we're going, so his staying behind defeats half our purpose. If I'd left him conscious, he might well have managed to knock us all off the bridge."
He turned then to give me the weight of those light eyes, as though daring me to argue what he'd said. The idea of arguing wasn't all that unpleasant, but he was still into giving all the orders.
"So that's why we're doing it this way, and it should be obvious we have no time to waste," he said, deliberately cutting into the comment I was about to make. "You'll go first, I'll be last, and between us we'll steady Rullin. If we're lucky, we might get across the bridge before the enemy has time to send more at us than we can handle."
Rull was already beginning to move slowly toward the end of the corridor, and as much as I would have enjoyed making an issue of being ordered around there really wasn't enough time. Instead of arguing I turned without a word, moved past Rull to get to the foot of the bridge first, then drew my sword. If it was going to come down to a fight, I intended to be all ready to work off a bit of hostility.
We started across the bridge sideways, me steadying Rull with my left hand as we faced the same way, Kylin doing the same by facing in the opposite direction. Half a dozen steps out and I began to feel a breeze, a light wind that might normally have gone unnoticed. It could have been the sweat covering me that made the moving air so obvious, or it could have been the thought that if the wind increased we might be blown off that very narrow bridge. I didn't dare look down, not even to do more than glance at the stone line we crossed, not after how close I'd come to falling only a few minutes earlier.
It's strange how calm it's possible to feel even when things are attacking you, but how frightening simple walking can be. You edge along the stone bridge while trying to breathe as shallowly as possible, repeating to yourself over and over that your sword will not overbalance you and therefore shouldn't be dropped. The only reason your left hand isn't trembling is because you have a death grip on the sleeve of someone you're supposed to be helping, and if you weren't so terrified you would laugh at yourself for having been looking forward to a fight only a pair of minutes earlier.
"Whatever you do, don't stop," Rull's whisper reached me, his voice sounding strained even at that low a volume. "If I have to stop and then start again, I don't know if I can keep my balance. How much farther is it?"
"Don't know," I mumbled back, hoping he wouldn't ask again, and thank Evon he didn't. It felt as though we'd already been on that bridge for decades and ages, so it would certainly be forever before we were off it again.
Which it was. By the time I was able to see the beginnings of the new corridor out of the corner of my eye, I felt as though I'd been the one who had carried Traixe. I had the urge to speed up just a little to get there that much faster, but managed to make myself understand that moving faster could be as bad as stopping as far as Rull would be concerned. To fall when we had almost reached safety would be more than intolerable…
And that, of course, was when the big flying things swooped down at us in attack. Since they came from the empty air high above, away from the rock, it took a minute before I knew they were there. Rull made a soft sound of surprise and then added something that sounded like a shouted curse that had been muffled down and softened, and that made me glance to the left. The flying things were diving at Kylin, and he had let Rull's arm go before starting his defense.
I was suddenly hit with the very great need to help Kylin, but that would have been the stupidest thing I could have done. Not only was Rull blocking my way, but Traixe was beginning to move a little and make sounds suggesting he was about to come to. I had to grit my teeth in order to force myself to keep moving, but four steps later the effort was rewarded when I reached the end of the bridge. I stepped over onto wide and solid rock, pulled Rull after me, and then was able to get a clear view of the fight.
And the raging need to help died as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind nothing but the very clear memory of the way I'd almost fallen. In order to help in the fight I'd have to go back out onto that tiny stone bridge … leaving the safety of solid footing after finally managing to reach it … put myself in a position again where one wrong move would send me over…
My mouth didn't even have enough spittle for me to wet my lips, my right hand hurt from being wrapped so tightly around the hilt of my sword, and I was so close to shuddering that I had to lock most of my muscles to keep it from happening. In spite of all that, however, I began to edge back out onto the bridge. Some of the flying things were blocking Kylin's way to safety, and if I didn't help he'd never make it.
The flying things, large orange-gray, leather-like creatures the size of a child's kite, stayed out of reach of Kylin's slowly swinging blade without difficulty. They batted at him with hook-edged wings when they could and kept their taloned feet poised and waiting, but they hadn't been able to reach through and hurt him. What they were mainly doing was blocking his path, hoping to keep him where he was until he lost his balance and fell.
It took me a couple of minutes to edge over close enough to reach the creatures, and then I began to stab at the fluttering bodies to get them out of the way. Their screams as they fell and scattered seemed filled more with furious surprise than anything else, but I didn't have much time to think about that. Kylin immediately began to move toward me through the space I'd cleared, which meant I had to reverse direction to give him where to go.
I actually had to swing my sword once before the confrontation was over, a reflex reaction that must have caused every drop of blood to drain from my face. I know I felt as gray as the rock when two big hands grabbed me and pulled me onto wider footing, and then it was Kylin who Rull was hauling in. The big King's Fighter paused to make certain the flying things were dispersing rather than following us to attack again, then he put his sword down on the rock and quickly wrapped his arms around me.
"It's over, Tisah, and we're all safe," he crooned, rocking me just a little as he held me close. "Take a deep breath and let it go, just relax and take it easy. There's no danger of falling now, so let me see you breathe normally."
I thought about laughing like a maniac, but that would have taken too much effort so I closed my eyes instead. If I tried to breathe normally, I knew I'd probably pass out.
"Is she all right?" I heard Rull say from behind me, worry clear in his voice. "I got Traixe down to the ground without dropping him before collapsing myself, and when I finally looked around she was back out on that bridge. I honestly didn't think she'd be able to do it, not with being as afraid as she was."
"I'd say our enemy was counting on the same thing, and turned out to be just as wrong," Kylin answered, his face to my hair. "I doubt I've ever seen anyone that terrified, but she still came back out to break up that attack. I was getting very close to not being able to hold out any longer, so I owe her my life again. We seem to be taking turns."
"That's the way the best fighting teams usually do it," Traixe's voice came, sounding more normal than it had earlier. "Come farther away from that edge and sit down, my lord. You and Sofaltis will need to rest before we move on, and that can't be done properly while you're standing."
A hand came to coax the sword out of my automatic grip, and then I was urged up the corridor a few feet before being pulled down to sit on something that was softer than rock but not by much. It took another moment to realize I was in Kylin's lap, still being held tight in his arms.
"Stop trying to squirm free," I was told when I began to sit straight, his arms briefly tightening even more. "It won't kill you to let me hold you for another few minutes, and it might even help. You need a chance to pull yourself together."
"Pulling isn't going to be doing the job," I whispered, wishing I had the strength to speak the words louder. "I think the enemy has been reaching me the way he reached Traixe, forcing me to make the decisions he wants made. Right at this moment I can't trust anything I feel."
"What happened to give you that idea?" Kylin asked, his frown something I could hear. Rull and Traixe came around to Kylin's right to sit where I could see them, and their frowns were fully visible.
"I almost joined the fight before Traixe and Rull were safe," I said, pleased that I was getting a little more volume. "Once they were out of the way and I started to go back, the fear hit me twice as hard as before. It didn't occur to me that it was our enemy's doing until you mentioned it, Kylin, because as a way to keep me out of the fight it didn't make any sense. Does the enemy think I've never been afraid before? If he does, he isn't very bright."
"Nonfighters tend to think of fighters as fearless," Rull said with a smile, reaching forward to smooth the hair back from my face. "They have no idea we feel the same fear they do, but that we've learned to control it rather than letting it control us. Your color's starting to come back, I'm glad to see, so you should be all right."
"Oh, sure, I'm just great," I said in something close to my normal voice. "But I'll be even better once we're finished and out of this place, so I think we've rested long enough. Let's - "
"Let's not," Kylin said at once, again keeping me from moving away from him. "You may be all fit and ready to go, but the rest of us aren't. I'm still enjoying just sitting in one place, so I'm going to do it for another few minutes."
"And I can use the time to get my jaw back in place," Traixe said with a careful hand to his face, wounded accusation in the look he sent to Kylin. "I can understand the need for what you did, my lord, but if the need should arise again I would appreciate being hit over the head with a rock instead. I've had that done to me, so I know it hurts considerably less."
"And for next time I'd like to be the one carried, not the one doing the carrying," Rull said with a grin that nevertheless had traces of compassion for Traixe. "I've brought fellow Blades out of active fighting with less trouble and effort, not to mention less terror. I kept expecting my burden to wake up and knock us both off the bridge, so my muscles insisted on tensing in an effort to keep both of those things from happening. I don't know how muscle tension was supposed to accomplish that, but I can tell you how it feels now that it's stopped."
"In other words we all need a break, just as I said," Kylin summed up as he completed the circle. "I know it disgusts you to be this close to me, but if you can't trust yourself not to take off before the rest of us are ready, this is the best way to keep it from happening. You can console yourself with the knowledge that it won't be for long."
"I don't need consolation," I said, forcing an arm against his chest that let me move back just enough to see him. "What I need is to get out of this place and not have to come back. And how many times do I have to tell you that I don't hate you and it doesn't disgust me to be near you? Are you trying to talk me into feeling like that?"
"I don't think you need to be talked into anything," he answered, a faint smile showing on his face. "The only time you let me near you is when you're half paralyzed by whatever horrible thing just happened to you, and right then you'd probably accept our enemy himself if he took you in his arms. All the rest of the time you make it very clear you want nothing to do with me, and won't be changing your mind no matter what happens. If that's the way you treat everyone you don't hate, you can't have very many close friends."
"You can find out how I treat friends by looking for nothing more than simple friendship," I countered, strangely bothered by what he'd said and the way he looked. "A friend doesn't try to force something on you that you've already said you won't accept, not if they want to stay a friend. And considering the number of times you've saved my life, you've made a great start on a friendship. If that ever became all you wanted from me."
"There's always an 'if' woven into the connections between you and me," he remarked, that faint smile growing enough to show the painful sadness in it. "If we weren't who we are, and if we didn't have commitments, and if things were different… It's come to me that you must be feeling really grateful that all those ifs can't be pushed aside. If they could be you might find yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to think of other reasons why you don't want me near you, and that would be a lot of extra work. But those ifs are still there, so you can relax. And maybe it would be a better idea if you sat alone."
His arms opened to drop away from me, the movement reluctant but not indecisive. It wasn't cold in that cave, especially not when I wore leather… I shook my head to dislodge the silliness of that thought, then shifted onto the rock beside Rull. I hadn't really been feeling reluctant to leave Kylin's lap, not when he so obviously wanted me to, but the confusion was back and roaring all around me again.
There wasn't much in the way of conversation for the next several minutes, and then it was decided that everyone was ready to move on. I came out of deep, orderless thought in time to clean and sheathe my reclaimed sword, and then we were on our way. I had the idea I might deliberately walk next to Kylin, just to show him how wrong he was, but it didn't turn out that way. My place was at the front of the group, finding the right path, and his, as the only other armed member, was at the back. So much for friendly intentions.
The corridor narrowed down to its usual width for a while, but before the sameness could get boring it began to widen again. Personally I wouldn't have minded being bored for a change, but apparently the enemy was getting impatient. The widening corridor led to an area that was as unempty as the previous one had been unfilled, and it was immediately apparent who we would be having trouble with this time.
"That can't be jungle," Rull said with a disbelieving quiver in his voice, and I turned to see that he'd stopped a good twenty feet back. "How can there be jungle in a cave? All those growing things, reaching out for you, wanting to grow into you - ! No, it just can't be!"
"Fight it, man," Kylin urged, putting a hand on Rull's shoulder. "You know what fear tastes like, and also know you can't let it control you. Don't let it drive you over the edge."
"This isn't anything like ordinary fear," Rull answered in a strangled voice, his very pale face unmoving as his stare held to the growth that had actually crept a few inches into the corridor. "It - it's pure unreason, nonreason, reason-never-was. You don't think, you just feel and react - and if I have to go any closer to that - that - obscenity - I'll - "
His breathing had grown so heavy that someone might have thought he'd been running, but running was the one thing he wasn't allowing himself to do. It was clear enough that he wanted to, but he still had a small amount of control over himself.
"I think we'd better move back a short distance so that all of us can discuss this problem," Kylin said with a sigh. "Tisah, are you sure that's the way we have to go?"
I was just about to answer him when Traixe came up behind Rull and quickly put an arm around my ex-Fistmate's throat. Rull had clearly been keeping his distance from Kylin to be sure he wasn't hit the way Traixe had been, but in doing that he'd forgotten about Traixe himself. He struggled briefly with the arm against his throat, and then gently, surprisingly, slumped toward the ground.
"What have you done to him?" I demanded of Traixe, never having seen anything like that before. "And how did you do it so fast?"
"I used a Fighter hold that's taught for purposes other than contesting," Traixe answered as he lowered Rull to the ground. "The hold actually does put a man to sleep, so its purpose isn't for fighting but to stop fighting. He'll be out for a while, and when he wakes up he'll be fine."
"And since he's the one who gets carried this time, he's also getting his wish," Kylin said, stepping forward. "I'll help you lift him to your shoulders, Traixe, and then we'd better get moving. We don't know how long it will take us to get through there, so I'd rather not waste any time."
"There's one thing we're going to waste time on," I said, closing my eyes rather than watch them mess with Rull. "You told me the clothes we're wearing are what we want to wear, so maybe we have some say over other things. There's one item I used to carry with me all the time, and right now I really want to find it in my pouch…"
Even though I knew the pouch had been empty until now. I kept my eyes and my fists closed as I wished as hard as I ever had as a child, trying to will my wish into happening, and then it was time to look. Wishing hard is one thing, but checking reality is something else entirely. I opened my eyes before slowly opening the pouch, and then for the first time understood the meaning of the word relief.
"You found it," Kylin remarked. "What was it that you needed so badly?"
"My firestarter," I answered with a grin, holding up the small steel box. "Complete with blackstone handle. If I have to plow through all that greenery, I want to be armed with the one weapon none of it will try to touch."
"Fire," Traixe said in a pleased way, shifting Rull's body just a little. "That makes me feel considerably better. I don't mind vegetation as much as poor Rullin here, but I prefer it in less overwhelming amounts."
I didn't mind agreeing with that outlook, and happily it took only a moment to coax a spark into the small pile of tinder in the box. As the tiny flame took hold I drew my sword, then began to lead the way into the jungle cave.
I'd never before had to use my weapon to hack through plant growth, so I'd had no idea how tiring it was. As I cut and pushed and pushed and cut, I wished it were possible to let Kylin take a turn at leading. If there'd been a trail he could have, but I was following the certainty I'd had all along about which way to go. I thought about what would have happened to the others if I'd been killed, then quickly shook off the thought. If I was that prime a target, I'd have to watch myself more carefully in the future.
The orangey-green light coming through the growth let us see where we were going, but not well and not easily enough to make the time more pleasant. I kept getting the feeling the trees and vines were aware of us, and were just waiting for us to be distracted before they did something horrible. I could hear rustling and slithering that we weren't producing, but that worked against rather than for the enemy. Whenever I felt too tired to chop anymore, I listened for an instant and then went back to chopping with renewed strength.
The tinder I kept replacing in my fire box was able to keep a small flame going until the end of the jungle was in sight. If not for the blackstone handle the box would have been too hot to hold, but with it I'd had no problem. I did expect a problem after that, though, some sort of an attack to keep us from reaching the corridor beyond, but we crossed the last twenty feet without incident and then we were out.
"Finally," Traixe muttered as he shifted Rull to the floor, then turned fast to Kylin. "Sofaltis, you'll have to help me. If nothing else, those spines have to come out."
For a moment I didn't know what he was talking about, and then I finally got a good look at Kylin. If I hadn't been bothered at all during the trip through the jungle, he must have been bothered enough for four. His shirt was torn and stained with green slime, there were scratches on his hands and face, his throat showed a ring of angry red as though something had tried to strangle him, and four slender needle-like spines stuck out of his left arm. He was staggering and stumbling rather than walking, and I couldn't believe so much had been done to him without my knowing it.
"How in hell did all that happen?" I demanded, hurrying over to help support Kylin away from the edge of the jungle. "Traixe, nothing came anywhere near me!"
"I'd say your idea about fire was Evon-sent," Traixe answered, taking most of Kylin's weight. "He should have done the same, but we were already into that jungle before we realized it and by that time it was too late. All the attacks tried to get past him to reach Rullin and me, but he refused to let them do it."
"Sit him down over there," I said, gesturing to a place just beyond Rull's feet. "We can lean him against the wall, and then I'll take care of those spines."
Traixe grunted his agreement, and it wasn't long before we had Kylin down and propped up against the wall. I was fast and sloppy about cleaning my sword before resheathing it, but that was the least of my worries. Kylin was conscious, but so obviously exhausted and hurt that he couldn't speak. Rull was still unconscious and unmoving, and Traixe had dropped to the floor in an effort to get some strength back. He was marked too, I finally noticed, and having had to carry Rull and then help Kylin had taken a lot out of him.
"What an exciting and romantic group of adventurers we are," I muttered, fighting the sword hilt out of Kylin's fist before turning to look at the wounds in his arm. Removing the spines would probably hurt him, and I didn't want him to chop me in half through reflex. We'd come too far to simply hand the enemy the game by default, not to mention by stupidity.
I used a piece of Kylin's shirt to get a better grip on the spines, then pulled them out one at a time. His body jerked every time one of them came free, but he didn't make a sound. When it was finally over I wiped the sweat out of my eyes, then leaned close to his ear.
"It's all done, Ky, so you can relax now," I whispered, smoothing the wet hair back out of his eyes. "I won't let anything else hurt you, you have my word on that. And as soon as you're feeling stronger we'll look for one of those safe resting areas. If we haven't earned one of those by now, we never will again."
I thought his lips curled in the faintest of smiles, but it could also have been my imagination. Something inside me was raging around over the way he'd been hurt, and if the enemy had been there in the flesh at that moment we would have been short one enemy. As it was, all I could do was promise myself that someone would lose blood for what had been done to Ky in that jungle. It wasn't anywhere near enough, but I could do nothing more than settle for the promise.
"How is he?" Traixe asked, and I turned my head to see that he'd apparently been watching. "I had the feeling those spines might have been poisoned."
"Whether they were or not, he needs the healing water of a resting place," I said, getting to my feet. "And so do you and Rull, not to mention me. I'm going to see just how far ahead the next rest area is."
"You can't go alone," Traixe said, starting the struggle to rise to his feet. "I'm the only one in any shape to go with you, so - "
"So that means you have to stay here, keeping an eye on the others," I finished for him. "If anything comes along with the intention of harming them, you have to be here to call me back. I won't be going that far, so I'll have no trouble hearing you call. It should save us some valuable time."
His face worked as he looked up at me, conflicting desires clearly jumping around inside him, but he couldn't really argue what I'd said. I wasn't leaving him behind on a whim, and his eventual sigh showed he knew that.
"All right, I have to stay here," he grudged, shifting to a more upright position on the stone. "Just make sure you don't go far, and be very, very careful."
"Don't be silly, Traixe, I'm always careful," I said as I walked away, but I did get a parting look at his face. For some reason, his expression said he didn't believe me.
There was a bend in the corridor not far from the place where we'd stopped, and when I moved around it I saw an archway on the right with a room beyond that contained a bathing pool, large cushions, and silver goblets. It was so close we would have reached it if we'd only kept going on an extra minute or two, and I was delighted to see it. We could rouse Rull, have him help Kylin while I helped Traixe, and then those healing waters would be ours for the taking.
I began to turn back with a smile, eager to get things moving, but then the oddest thought came to me. The other resting places hadn't been this close to the areas we'd fought through, so why was this one where it was? To make things easier on us? Please, don't make me laugh. We weren't in this place to be pampered, we were here to fight.
My suspicions stirred even harder then, but not nearly as hard as they normally would have. Stop imagining things, something inside told me, the place can't possibly be a trap. You know how badly Kylin needs those healing waters, so what are you waiting for? Get the others, and bring them inside.
Bring them inside? That thought reminded me I was the wayfinder of our group, and the others were thoroughly aware of it. They didn't know that the rest areas weren't part of the path we had to follow, and therefore didn't register as either right or wrong for me. If I led them to this room they would walk right in without the least hesitation … and this place was on the right, rather than on the left the way the others had been…
But you can test it, the something inside me urged, a smooth persuasiveness polishing the contention. You don't have to take any chances, all you have to do is use your bracer. Try it now, while the others are safely out of the way. Once you're convinced, you can go back and get them. It's something for you to do anyway, isn't it?
The question hung enticingly in front of my eyes, trying to convince me that marching ahead and doing it was nothing more than to be expected of me. It was the kind of thing I usually did, so why should this time be any different? It made a lot of sense, except -
Except that if only one of our group could be taken out, the best candidate for that one was me. If I wasn't here to find the proper way, the others could conceivably get so lost that they'd end up walking around in circles forever. I'd been hesitating over bringing the others to the room, so on the theory that one in the room is well worth four in the corridor, I'd been given a special invitation…
It didn't take me long to decide I was insulted. Not over the invitation, but over the assumption that I would leap before I looked. I might not be all that good at planning ahead, but I did know better than to go charging in before my scouts told me what sort of terrain I'd be fighting on and what sort of numbers I'd be facing. I hadn't handled my private life terribly well, but military matters were something else entirely.
A quick look around the floor of the corridor found me two fist-sized stones, just what I needed to make my feelings of insult clear. I weighed one of them in my right hand as I examined as much of the room as I could see from outside the archway, and after a moment my target was obvious. I'd been urged to "test" the area with my bracer, meaning I was supposed to enter the room and touch one of the silver goblets. I wasn't sure touching one of them with anything but the bracer would spring the trap, but it shouldn't hurt to try.
The first stone I threw missed the goblet by a hair, but that wasn't terribly unexpected. I usually had to do a little ranging before I could hit what I threw at, and there were certainly enough stones in the corridor for as many tries as I had to make. The second stone I held was very much like the first, so much like it that as soon as it left my hand I knew I'd have no need of more ammunition. The stone hit the goblet straight on and knocked it into the bathing pool.
If I hadn't been watching closely, I might have missed a good part of what happened next. As soon as that supposed silver goblet hit the water there was a loud hissing sound, and billows of orangey-gray fog began to rise from the pool and spread out in the room. At the same time the open archway began to waver like the air above a hot fire, and then the wavering started to solidify. Rock formed in front of my eyes almost before that orangey mist rose from the water, and then the room was locked away behind that rock and forever out of sight.
"I'd say this particular resting place failed the test," I remarked out loud, hoping the enemy was listening. "I guess I'll just have to look for another one."
I almost started on up the corridor before I realized how vulnerable those I'd left behind were, and since the enemy had failed against me he just might try something against them while I was gone. It also came to me that leaving in the first place hadn't been that good an idea, at least not for our side. It looked like I'd been "convinced" again, and realizing that did more than annoy me.
I lost no time going back around the curve, and although I didn't return "just in the nick of time," I was glad I hadn't taken longer doing it. Traixe was sitting and watching his two companions, Kylin had his eyes closed and might have been dozing, and Rull was moving just a little, as though getting ready to wake up. What none of them seemed to have noticed was the vine growing into the corridor, a vine that was apparently aiming for Rull and had almost reached him. If he ever woke up to find that touching him…
"Sofaltis, what are you doing?" Traixe asked as I went past him while drawing my sword, but I didn't use words to answer his question. I walked to the end of the corridor and severed the vine close to the rest of the jungle growth, then used my blade to lift the severed part and toss it back where it belonged. The rest of the vine had quivered and drawn back after its tail end had been lopped off, and I can't say I was sorry to see it go.
"It looks like you got back just in time," Traixe said when my little chore was done, watching me walk back to him. "I'm sorry to say I didn't notice that, but I could have been a lot sorrier. Does your coming back so quickly mean you found the rest area?"
"I found a rest area, but even if it was still accessible it wouldn't do us much good," I said, resheathing my sword as I looked around again. "I suppose I saved us some trouble by taking off alone, but if my nature was any less suspicious than it is we would have had more trouble rather than less. From now on I think we should all stick together."
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that," Traixe assured me with a tired grin. "I didn't like the idea of you going off in the first place, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Why don't you sit down and rest for a while, and then we can see about what to do next."
"I find myself agreeing with that suggestion, so we'd better not," I said, privately wondering how long I'd be able to decide on the right thing to do by choosing what I didn't want. "This isn't a good place to get comfortable, not if we intend to get where we're supposed to go. Let's start with waking Rull up, and once he can help we'll move on."
Waking Rull turned out to be relatively easy, but it took a few minutes before he was steady enough himself to help someone else. He and Traixe got Kylin up between them, but the big man showed no sign that he knew he was being moved. That worried me enough to make me want to range ahead again, looking for the real rest area, so of course I didn't. I was learning not to trust my urges and whims, but that didn't make the time any easier.
Rull and Traixe weren't able to move very fast with the burden they shared, and besides fretting the only contribution I could make was watching both behind and in front of us. I no longer trusted the supposed safety of the corridor, and the fact that nothing appeared in attack didn't help to soothe my suspicions. Mostly I was wondering whether or not to test the next rest area we came to from the outside, throwing stones the way I'd done before. It would be the safest way, so it might be the best idea.
I had just about made up my mind to do that, when I caught a glimpse of an opening in the stone ahead of us to the left. I turned to say I was going on ahead to make the test to save some time, but one glance at Kylin's face kept the words unspoken. He was so pale that I would have thought he was dead - if not for the way he struggled to breathe. If the place ahead of us wasn't the real rest area, I doubted if Kylin would live until the next one came up. And if I tested the place from the outside and it was what we were looking for, mightn't the silver mist cover the archway and keep us out?
"I hate being confused and uncertain," I muttered under my breath. "I hate it! There has to be a way to make a decision about this!"
And then I saw that there was a way, still uncertain but at least practical. If I'd learned nothing else during my time in these corridors and caverns, it was that the task I did called for the efforts of a team. Kylin couldn't do it alone and neither could I, so we both had to survive. If one of us went down the chances were excellent that the other would fall soon after, with Traixe and Rull going down as well.
Which meant that worry about Kylin wasn't personal, and therefore the wrong thing to do. If he didn't make it the rest of us wouldn't either, so I had to take the chance that the area ahead was real. If it was a trap instead, we would be losing only a very little time.
But I still made the effort to hedge the bet by running a short way up the corridor beyond the opening to the left. If I'd found another opening I would have been in trouble again, but there was nothing in sight even beyond the first curve. I got back just as my three companions reached the arch, and was therefore able to lead the way inside.
"If you feel you have any pull with Evon, now's the time to use it," I told Traixe and Rull over my shoulder as I approached the nearest silver goblet. "And if you see an orange mist instead of a silver one, try your damnedest to get back out into the corridor."
They both started to ask me what I was talking about, but that wasn't the time to go into details. I reached the nearest silver cup, bent to it, brought my bracer over to touch it - and the silver mist began to spread the way it was supposed to. I let out the breath I'd been holding and sat down on the smooth stone, then turned my head to Rull and Traixe.
"You'd better get him stripped and into the water fast," I said, the words sounding almost as tired as I felt. "I'll give you a hand in a minute or so."
"Don't worry, Rullin and I can take care of it," Traixe said, his breathing a bit on the heavy side as they lowered Kylin to the stone. "He and I took turns having a nap, remember, so we've still got something left."
"But my nap came after yours, Traixe," Rull put in, speaking over his shoulder as his hands worked quickly on Kylin's swordbelt and clothing. "That means I get to do most of this while you get out of your own clothes, and then you can hold him up when I slide him into the water. If we don't use teamwork, we'll be wasting valuable time."
"You're right, of course," Traixe agreed after a very brief hesitation, obviously having tried to decide if Rull was simply making things easier for him or was actually serious. "There are four drying cloths this time, and if there isn't someone in the water to hold him up he could drown. I'll be ready in a moment."
I could see the effort it was for him to get out of his own clothes, so I didn't say a word about Kylin not needing anyone to hold him up in the water. Traixe needed help himself, and Rull was seeing that he got it.
It wasn't more than another couple of minutes before Kylin was lowered into the water, and when I heard his sigh of relief I was able to relax a bit more myself. It had finally occurred to me to wonder what the wine in the silver cups tasted like, so I'd tried the cup I'd tested. The wine was wonderful, full bodied but delicate both at the same time, and the strength it gave me wasn't the only surprising thing about it. I drank half the cup after my first tentative sip, but when I looked inside the level of wine hadn't gone down at all.
"Now I think it's your turn," Rull said to me, sitting down to my left. "Do you need help getting out of your clothes, or can you do it yourself?"
"A little more of this wine and I'll probably be able to do anything you'd care to name," I answered with a grin. "And you have to see this, Rull. The cup won't let itself be emptied."
"Don't plan on testing that to see how far you can take it," he said, and strangely enough his voice had that Fist Leader sound to it. "You have something more important to do, and it won't count if you're drunk at the time."
"What are you talking about?" I asked in surprise. "Getting to a resting area means there's nothing left to do at all. How can I still have something important?"
"It's more than time you had some serious words with Kylin," he told me, his voice low and his face expressionless. "You heard him earlier, after we got off that bridge. He doesn't deserve the way you've been treating him, so you have to do something about it."
"Just what is it I'm supposed to do?" I put in a hiss, having trouble keeping my voice down. "I've already said I don't hate him, but he chooses not to believe me. Would you like me to threaten his life to get him to believe? Would I use a sword for that, or just my dagger?"
"You have to make up your mind about what you really want, and then you have to tell him your decision," Rull ground out, still giving me that very serious look. "You can't keep walking around insisting you won't marry him, but looking at him in a way that says you're just playing coy. 'No, you can't touch me, but I'll like it if you do…' That kind of thing can drive a man crazy. Either tell him you've changed your mind about marrying him, or break it off completely."
I sat there staring at him for a moment, then I took a good long swallow of wine. My Fistmates had never been shy about telling me if I was behaving unfairly with a man, and I'd come to rely on their decisions in such things. There were times when a girl simply didn't realize what she was doing to a man, not because she was trying to provoke him but because she didn't understand male reactions. I didn't like the choice Rull had given me at all, but I trusted him enough to know it had to be made.
"There's something wrong with this wine," I muttered when I put the cup down, no longer amused to see that it was refilled. "It makes you clear-headed instead of fuzzy, and no decent wine will do that. There may even be a law against it."
"You're going to talk to him," Rull said, as usual interpreting my responses correctly. "Have you decided which option you'll be taking?"
"Since nothing has changed, there's only the one," I said with a sigh, standing up to begin getting out of my clothes. "And you need that water too, so start peeling. Business first, and then - personal."
Rull made a sound of flat amusement, but still got to his feet. As Fist Leader his favorite saying had always been business before pleasure, but what I had ahead of me wasn't likely to be pleasure.
We both slid into the water, submerged the way Kylin and Traixe had obviously already done, and then simply enjoyed the feeling of no more aches and twinges. I was all for leaving the pool quickly after that, but Traixe refused to allow it. I had a lot of tiredness to get rid of, he insisted, and barely getting wet would not be enough. I had to soak for a while, and would do so even if he had to push me to the bottom of the pool and stand on me.
Since Rull immediately sided with Traixe, I decided it would be easier to give in than to argue. Floating took no effort at all in that pool, not even with my eyes closed, and time seemed to float right along with me. I finally opened my eyes to see that Kylin was climbing out, leaving only me in the pool. Rull and Traixe were over near the left wall of the area, sitting on cushions they'd obviously moved over there, sipping at cups of wine. I could just make them out past the curtain of silver mist that separated them from the rest of the room, and I couldn't hear a word they were saying.
"I don't know how they managed that," I muttered to myself, "but I think the time has come for the conversation I promised I'd have. If I get it over with now, it'll stop hanging over my head."
Even though its consequences would not be that easy to avoid. I turned in the water and stroked for the edge of the pool, trying to make myself understand what I was about to do. It was something I had to do, but as far as wanting to went…
"Well, you certainly look better than you did," I said to Kylin once I was out and had picked up a drying cloth to use on my hair. "That jungle did you more damage than almost anything else."
"Especially those spines," he agreed, glancing up at me from the cushion he sat on, still using his own drying cloth. "If they'd been left in my arm I wouldn't have made it, and I almost didn't anyway. If this place had taken any longer to get to…"
"I know," I said when his voice trailed off, and I followed his gaze to see that his arm was actually scarred where the spines had been. "And we almost didn't make it in more ways than you know. Kylin…"
His eyes came back to me when I said his name, and those blue-green pools of calm encouragement almost made me forget what else I meant to say. I wouldn't have minded just standing there staring at him, but I had promised…
"Kylin, there's something I have to tell you," I got out, considering that a pretty good start. Beginning something like that was supposed to be the hardest part, and I was already past the beginning. The only problem was…
"Why don't you sit down over here while you decide just how you want to put it?" he suggested, patting the edge of the cushion to his right. That way we would be side by side but face to face, and also closer to being on the same level. It didn't seem like a bad idea, and might even help to convince him I meant what I said. I took my drying cloth and sat, then forced myself to look at him again.
"Kylin, what I'm about to tell you doesn't mean I hate you or anything," I began a second time, then decided a smile couldn't hurt. "As a matter of fact, as I may have mentioned before, I don't dislike you even a little. That's why I won't be talking to you after this, and once our work in this place is done we'll be going our separate ways."
"I see," he said with something of a nod, both the words and his expression very neutral. "You dislike me so little it might even be possible to say you like me, and that's the reason we won't be associating any longer. Now I understand everything."
"All right, I'll admit that put like that it doesn't seem to make much sense," I granted, watching as he moved around a little. "Possibly what I should have said was that it's been pointed out to me how unfair I'm being. I thought I was trying to discourage you, but I seem to have been doing some encouraging at the same time. Now I've decided to put a stop to all of it."
"I know that being fair is important to you," he said, looking at me in a very sober way. "For that reason I'd like to ask you a question, one that's important to me. If your original intention was to discourage me, how did you end up doing the exact opposite?"
It was a fairly simple and straightforward question he'd asked, and he didn't seem to be trying to trap me with it. The only problem was I couldn't think of an answer to match, or even one that didn't.
"I didn't mean to corner you," he said gently after a moment of my silence, and then his hands came to my arms. "Here, why don't you lie back and get comfortable while you're thinking, and maybe then you'll be able to put your reason into words."
He helped me to lie back on the cushion, and since it wasn't bad as a delaying tactic I made no effort to argue. He then filled even more time by shifting around to rest on his left arm beside me, and by then an idea or two had come to me.
"I'd say this all happened because I was telling the truth about not disliking you," I tried, looking up into the light eyes that were watching me almost casually. "If we'd met under different circumstances we probably would have gotten along, and maybe even more than that. Part of me was obviously thinking along those lines, not realizing that I couldn't encourage you without encouraging the rest of the mess at the same time. You're so deeply in the middle of that mess that you don't seem able to find a way out, which means I can't have anything to do with you."
"Now that's something I don't understand," he said with a distracted nod for the rest of it, his right hand coming to push pool-damp hair away from my face. "I can see why you would fight against being treated unfairly, why you would refuse to go along with something you'd been ordered to rather than asked to agree to. I'd probably do the same myself - until I discovered that I liked what I was being forced toward. Does it really matter how a satisfying end comes to be, as long as it is satisfying? If you start out fighting against being pushed into a tub of chocolate but end up in the tub anyway, does that mean you can't do a little eating once you find yourself in the middle of it?"
"I think there may be a Law against not eating chocolate when you're right in the middle of it," I said with a faint smile that quickly disappeared again. "But what guarantee do you have that it will always be chocolate you're forced into? What if the next time it's vinegar, or even out-and-out poison? Trying to fight again at that point would be too late, and it can always be contended that you went along with being forced the first time, so what are you complaining about now?"
"You know, I never thought of that," he mused, one finger of his hand unconsciously moving on my right cheek. "Backing down once does set a precedent that's hard to reverse at a later time, even if you have a really good reason. What I wonder about, though, is something else you said concerning guarantees. Just because it's chocolate the first time is no guarantee it always will be, but what if you could get a guarantee? Would that make a difference?"
The mild, curious question stopped me again, just the way his first question had. I couldn't accuse him of arguing with me because he wasn't; all he was doing was asking things. And he wasn't even demanding answers, not with the patient way he simply waited. It made me feel strange, and with everything going on at the moment, that was saying something.
"You think it's possible for someone to guarantee that you'll always like what others force you to?" I asked in turn after the hesitation, trying to picture something like that. "Wouldn't it take Evon himself to manage that? Or wouldn't you need someone with no will of their own as the one to be forced? How could any normal human being guarantee enjoyment, or even find it after getting the guarantee? With all the possibilities that could come up, there's simply no way to do it."
"I can think of a way," he said, or maybe murmured would be a better descriptive. His voice was soft, the look in his eyes was soft, and his right hand had come across to softly stroke my left arm. "It's a team effort, of course, but most winning combinations are. If someone who was directly involved - like me, for instance - were to guarantee that the one being forced would get her say as to whether or not she was happy, how could it miss? I mean, one stating a preference, the other making sure that that preference came to be… How could it not work out?"
"What if the one doing the making sure usually didn't agree with the one stating the preferences, and eventually got tired of the making sure?" I asked, now even more bothered. I was aware of the way his hand had moved from my arm to my thigh, but the question I had was too disturbing to be dismissed. "Doing things only according to someone else's desires isn't fun even if it happens to be your own idea, and eventually the unfairness of it would turn you disgusted with the arrangement. Then things would begin to change, and no one would have the right to complain."
"But wouldn't that be less likely to happen if the one stating preferences had a strong sense of fairness?" he came back, still only mildly curious. "If nothing outrageous was demanded, if only the things that she really needed to make her happy were asked for, then the one making sure would have no reason to get tired or disgusted. His own happiness would come by making her happy, because that's the way it works when you love someone."
The soft smile he showed me seemed somehow familiar, but it took a moment before I was able to remember who I'd last seen it on. My thoughts needed to go a long way back, back to the time I was a child, and then I had it. My father had always looked at my mother with a smile like that, a stronger variation of the one he'd given my brothers and sisters and me. A smile filled with love… and eternal delight in that love…
"So now you should understand why we have to go our separate ways," I told his smile as quickly as I could, which wasn't very fast at all. His hand had slipped under the drying cloth I'd just been holding, making me feel as though it were a tunic I wore, and he'd come up from beneath. His fingers were stroking and tickling between my thighs, touching everywhere but the place I wanted them, doing as they pleased because I couldn't afford to notice them enough to direct them. I very much needed to get away from being touched like that, but when I tried to sit up he was directly in my way.
"As a matter of fact I don't understand why we have to separate, but if you say we do I'll have to take your word for it," he murmured, his left hand resting on my shoulder. "The only problem I have right now is how much I've missed you, and how much more I'll miss you once we've parted. Do you think you could forgive me for taking advantage of you one last time, as a kind of farewell to everything that's gone on between us until now? I'd like a final kiss, one to take with me forever in memory."
"Just - a kiss?" I asked with difficulty, most of me fighting to make my breathing at least look even. "All you want is a kiss?"
"That's all," he breathed, his lips now touching mine lightly, the fingers of his left hand stroking my throat. "As long as you're sure we do have to separate."
"Of course - I'm sure," was all the response I could make through his kisses, beginning to feel as if the silver glow covering parts of that room touched me as well.
"Very, very sure?" he asked in a murmur, still stroking and kissing me. "No chance of a mistake or a change of mind?"
"I want to get up," I said in a voice only a shadow stronger than a whisper, the sudden decision coming like a stroke of genius. "You have to move aside so I can get up."
"No," he answered with the ghost of a smile, shifting his right arm across my middle to hold me down. "You haven't answered any of my questions yet. Answer them, and then I'll think about it."
"Think about what?" I asked in confusion, suddenly unable to understand anything beyond the fact that he was still kissing me. "What questions am I supposed to answer? And how can I answer anything while you're holding me down? I need to get up."
"No," he said again, his right hand now spread out beneath my back. "What you haven't told me is how you decided we had no other choice than to go our separate ways. Isn't it possible there's something we could do instead?"
"There's one thing," I said with hope even more sudden than my sitting-up idea, putting a hand to the broad arm lying across me. "Leave the country with me, Ky, or come with me to the king to lodge a formal refusal. That way we can be together without anyone else having a say in it."
"But that way only you would have the say," he pointed out, slowing the kissing to do it. "We would be 'together' but not married, which is what you want, while what I want is the very marriage you're trying to avoid. No matter where we were I'd still want it, to you and you alone. I'll never again want any other woman in my bed, Tisah, you have my solemn oath on that - but other people also have my oath about other things. I'd abandon anything in the world for you - except my word. Would you ever ask me to?"
He stopped kissing me completely then to give me a chance to answer, and for the first time my hesitation didn't mean I had nothing to say. There was only one thing to say, even though I wished there wasn't.
"No, I could never do that," I admitted, feeling the terrible pain of all hope crushed. "Then this really is where we go our separate ways. Will you - make love to me as a final goodbye?"
"You're asking," he said in surprise, the beginnings of delight in his smile. "You're not making me trick you into it, and you're not trying to corner me. All you're doing is asking."
"Only because it's not likely to set a precedent," I said, trying to smile but finding it impossible. "Are you willing?"
"On your terms?" he asked with a grin, just as though he couldn't tell what I was feeling. "Absolutely not. There's no way I'll make love to you as a final goodbye."
"Then - we'll be parting even sooner than I thought," I whispered, finding it impossible to take my hand from his arm. I wondered what it would be like to touch him without regret, to feel his hard, strong body up against me without begrudging myself the delight of the sensation. There had been only a single hope of ever finding out, and now even the hope was dead.
"You're crying," he said, and again the surprise was there, banishing his grin. "You're not arguing or trying to talk me into changing my mind, you're just accepting what I said. For the second time in as many minutes you've handed me a shock, but this time it's worse than the first."
"I have no right to ask you to change your mind," I whispered, trying to memorize the sensation of his big hand against my back. As a matter of fact I had no right to that, either, but I was taking it anyway.
"It isn't a matter of rights," he said, and a finger came to brush away the wetness on my cheek. "The truth is you couldn't make me change my mind, no matter how hard you tried. I refuse to make love to you - or do anything else - as a final goodbye. It is, however, your right to have me make love to you, but on a different basis entirely."
"What basis?" I tried to ask, but his lips came to me then, ending all words and questions, ending everything but an awareness of the two of us. I felt as though I'd been waiting forever for him to come to me, and his own hunger was so intense it seemed the same. His kiss was pure demand, insatiable and unavoidable, his hands unstoppable in their touching and taking. I wanted to join in the kissing and touching and so I did, but I was still almost overwhelmed.
And then he was inside me, the doing so fast and decisive I couldn't have stopped him even if I'd wanted to. I didn't want to, not even though I felt totally possessed by him, totally put to the use of his need. His rocklike thrusts were indescribable ecstasy, demanding that I join him, drawing me after him. I buried my fists in his hair as I moaned, trying at least to alter the rhythm of his kissing, but even that was denied me. He stroked deep as he tasted my tongue, and the helpless fists in his hair were ignored.
He kept it going so long he collected his due from me three or four times, and then finally let it end. It took a while before I could think again, and then my first thought was that I'd been through battles that had been easier. The second was that he still held me tightly in his arms, and as soon as I noticed that he smiled and kissed me.
"Do you understand now why I refused to make that a goodbye?" he asked softly. "I'd have to be crazy not to want it again and again and again. It was a very definite hello, and one that should tell you exactly how I feel."
"Ky, on what basis was that my right?" I asked, remembering I'd had that question a few years earlier, before he'd begun to make love to me. I also didn't bother pointing out that some hellos became goodbyes, most often whether we wanted them to be or not.
"Something won't let me tell you that," he answered, one hand stroking my hair. "I suppose we have to finish our work here first, so we'll make that the first thing I tell you once the work is over. For now I'll say only this: since I've become certain that you and I feel the same way about each other, I have no intention of letting you go anywhere. No separate paths, Tisah my love, only the same path."
"Kylin, don't set your heart on something you'll never have," I urged after he kissed me quickly and happily. "We're not meant to take the same path, and one day you'll have to admit that. You can save yourself some hurt by - "
"No," he interrupted, his face still wearing a smile even though his eyes began to close. "No separate paths. I simply won't allow it."
"The choice doesn't happen to be yours," I said, beginning to feel annoyed. "Ky, do you hear me? Kylin!"
"Won't allow it," he repeated in a smiling mutter, the words final for all their softness, and then he was asleep. There was no doubt in my mind that he intended to give me even more trouble than he had, but the realization didn't even let me move out of his arms. It came together with a cloud of heavy sleepiness, and then I slid down into unruffled blackness…
Kylin woke as quickly as he usually did, but lay unmoving in the heavy blankets for a while. It was so early there wasn't yet color to the new day, the air was as frigid as winter despite the blankets, and he didn't really feel as though he'd slept long enough. In spite of all that he had awakened with a smile on his face, and he had no intention of letting anything change that. He felt absolutely wonderful, and he didn't care that it was no more than a dream. Now he knew, and knowing made all the difference.
Lying there enjoying the feeling led to falling back into a light sleep for a while, and when he opened his eyes again the sun was up. There was also the smell of food cooking, and then he saw Traixe approaching, a bowl in each of his hands. Kylin sat up in the blankets and rubbed briefly at his face, and then he was able to smile a greeting to a crouching Traixe.
"Good morning, my lord," Traixe said as he handed over one of the bowls. "You look to be in an excellent mood for so early an hour."
"I'd be in an excellent mood even if it was mid afternoon, Traixe," Kylin answered with a grin as he took up his spoon. "In spite of being hungry enough to chew rock, I haven't felt this good since - I don't know, maybe since the first time I noticed how pleasantly different girls are. But pleasant isn't a strong enough word. Delightful would be better."
"Did something happen between you and Sofaltis?" Traixe asked with brows high, his own food momentarily ignored. "For some reason I fell asleep rather early last night, but I didn't expect to be missing anything. Did she finally agree to talk to you?"
"Hardly," Kylin answered between gulps of the thick, hot cereal, his humor still high. "There was a small to-do here with that boy who thinks of Tisah as his, but it didn't take long to settle and then I decided to talk to her whether she wanted to hear me or not. Unfortunately the timing was wrong, and she was just as soundly asleep as you were. I had to give it up and make use of my own blankets."
"Then why all this … air of victory?" Traixe asked with a gesture of his hand, clearly confused. "I hope you'll forgive me, my lord, but expansive satisfaction of the sort you're showing usually comes from something other than a night spent in solitary sleep."
"I know," Kylin said with a chuckle, scraping up the last of the cereal. "I also know you'll probably think I'm crazy, but after an endless number of nights spent dreaming I was getting nowhere with Tisah, she and I finally shared a proper wedding night. I also discovered that she does love me, but the stubborn hellion won't admit it. Well, admit it or not she's all mine now, and if I have to carry her home kicking and screaming, I'll do it. After that we'll work things out together, I know we will."
"I envy you your dreams, my lord," Traixe said with a warm smile, finally taking a moment to taste his cereal. "All I ever dream about these days is danger, and effort, and other unpleasant things. I hope your experiences are true visions of what's meant to be."
"I'll see to it that they are," Kylin answered, then got to his feet. "I can use more of this cereal, but I'll get it myself. You stay here and finish your own meal."
Traixe would have protested if Kylin had given him the chance, so the big King's Fighter strode away without giving it to him. It was then that he realized he'd fallen asleep so fast the night before that he hadn't removed his boots, but it was probably just as well. His dreams might not have been so pleasant if his feet had gotten cold.
There was still some of the cereal left so Kylin helped himself, then stood and ate it while looking around the camp. In point of fact he happened to be looking for someone in particular, but when he finally located her she was busy talking to the woman Kaffa. The two of them had their heads together while Tisah saddled her stallion Bloodsheen, and Kylin wondered what they were talking about.
"Kaffa's tellin' her we'll be gettin' to the Valley of the Cave early tomorrow," the answer was abruptly supplied, surprising Kylin. "All our people ought to be there by then, and then we get to have some fun fightin'."
Kylin glanced down to see who was keeping him so well informed, and didn't quite groan when he saw the girl Galena. During the past days she'd been working herself closer and closer to wherever he happened to be, and had now closed the distance to less than three feet.
"I appreciate the information, Galena," he said as neutrally as humanly possible, moving his eyes back to the distant conversation. "Is that all they're talking about?"
"It is now," came the answer, unhidden amusement in the girl's voice. "Kaffa tried to tell her you wanted to talk to her, but she still don't care to hear it. You won't be findin' her in your blankets come dark, but that don't mean you need to sleep alone the night before battle. There's always me."
"And don't think I don't appreciate the offer," he said with his attention still on the other two women. "I do appreciate it, and I'll be certain to remember it. If I should need someone to sleep with tonight, I'll be sure to let you know."
"You lowlanders really are strange," the girl said with a sigh, probably looking up at him. "You chase after women who want nothin' to do with you, and don't look twice at ones who do. Maybe it's because you're shy, and don't know how to handle willingness. Well, if that's your trouble you can stop worryin'. I'll figure out somethin' to take care of it."
She turned then and walked away from him, possibly to "figure out" whatever plan she thought she needed. Kylin hoped it would keep her busy at least until the next day, the time his "guesthood" was scheduled to end. By then he expected to have already talked with Tisah, and gotten everything straightened out.
He also expected to get started with his plans as soon as he was through eating, but it didn't turn out like that. He finished the second helping of cereal and turned away to find out what to do with the bowl, and when he turned back he saw Tisah and Kaffa riding slowly out of the camp, still in the midst of conversation.
Most of the camp had been struck and horses were being brought forward, but when Kylin made it plain he intended to catch up to the two women who had already left, his guards refused to allow it. They wouldn't have tried to stop him the night before, but this morning their orders seemed to have been reinforced. If he tried to go anywhere near Tisah they would knock him out, and there were too many of them for him to believe he could keep it from happening.
Kylin spent the morning's ride fuming, Traixe prudently silent beside him, but not having a lot of chatter to ignore didn't help. The great mood he'd been in earlier was gone, chased away by frustration and a slowly mounting anger. No one had the right to keep him from his wife, no one. Who did those people think they were, getting in the way of -
"My lord, look over there," Traixe said suddenly, drawing Kylin part way back from gathering clouds of fury. "I thought they were riding north. How in Evon's name did they end up here?"
Kylin looked around to see what the man was talking about, and experienced a sense of surprise that was no surprise at all. Tisah's four Fistmates, under escort, were being brought up a side trail to join the group, and none of the four was armed. They seemed to be enjoying the same "guesthood" he and Traixe were, and in more ways than one. The woman Kaffa rode back to give instructions concerning their disposition after greeting them like friends, but Tisah acted as though she didn't even see them.
A short time later they all stopped for lunch, but the four Blades weren't allowed near Tisah or even Kylin and Traixe. At first Kylin thought all the prisoners might be kept together, but apparently mountain fighters were smarter than that. They had no intention of allowing a combining of forces, or even the chance of one. The two groups were kept separated, and even casual nods across the intervening space were discouraged.
After lunch they moved on again, the trail easier than it had been but still gently climbing. The air also seemed faintly thinner, but Kylin decided that that might be his imagination. He knew they were getting closer and closer to where a battle would be fought, and the thought of Tisah going anywhere near it without him beside her was turning his every breath and movement ragged and uneven.
The sun wasn't quite down when they stopped to make camp, and this time they weren't alone except for the members of their own group. Others had gotten to the stretch of meadow first, quite a few others. All together there seemed to be several hundred people there, but the noise levels were below a minimum. And apparently there were a few other prisoners, those wearing mercenary tan.
"I seriously doubt whether they've been told their weapons will be returned to them," Traixe commented, obviously seeing what Kylin was. "We must be getting close to where the main trouble is."
"I'm told we'll be there tomorrow," Kylin said, too aware of the heavy guard around him. "I've got to talk to her before then, Traixe, and one way or another I will."
"Lord Kylin, you look very tired," Traixe said, sounding worried. "Once they set up our own area of the camp, why don't you rest until the food is ready. Whatever happens, you'll need as much strength as you can muster."
Kylin's first urge was to argue that advice, but he suddenly realized just how tired he really was. The day's ride had added to it after he'd started out that way, and he found he wasn't looking forward to dismounting and walking instead of riding. He couldn't imagine why he felt this way, especially with his ability to keep going day after day without sleep, but he managed to understand that Traixe had had a very good idea.
Those in charge of their group finally chose a section of the meadow, and everyone dismounted and began to set up camp. Kylin saw to his own horse despite Traixe's offer to do it for him, but when their blankets were tossed to the ground near the fire his guards had built, he didn't argue the suggestion to lie down in them. He felt as though he would be asleep in an instant if he closed his eyes, so he made sure to get comfortable without decreasing his attention to their surroundings. He could smell meat and vegetables cooking, and he wanted to eat before falling asleep.
He lay near the fire with his hands behind his head, angry with himself for thinking about eating and sleeping without remembering Tisah, trying to figure out what could be wrong with him. He knew he had to talk to the girl before they became involved in a battle, but his only thought when he lay down had been to be certain to eat before sleeping. It wasn't natural, not any of it, and if he could manage even one good night's sleep he'd damned well get to the bottom of -
"Well, ain't you the eager one," a low voice said with a laugh, and then there was a small, soft body in the blankets with him. The body was fully clothed, but with the way it moved against him it probably wouldn't be clothed for long. "Well, I'm eager too, brother, and that's why I'm here so early."
"Galena, get out of my bed," Kylin said, well beyond an interest in being neutral, let alone civil. "If I'd wanted you here I would have invited you, and I didn't invite you. I'm tired of trying to say this politely, so I'll say it straight out: go find someone else to bother."
"Now, brother, you know you don't mean that," the girl said with another laugh, moving around to lean on his chest with her forearms. "You're just shy, but I'm all ready to take care of it. Once I show you what it can be like, you'll be invitin' me all the time."
Kylin's annoyance was ready to be even less polite in answer, but he wasn't given the chance to say any of the words boiling up. One minute the girl was talking as she looked down at him, and the next she had lowered her face to give him a kiss. With his hands briefly trapped behind his head she had no trouble getting her way, but once he pulled free the choice was his again. Pushing at her arms did no good, so he shifted to her shoulders and finally managed to pry her loose. The way she clung to him almost made it look as though he were participating voluntarily, and that suddenly became the major problem.
When the girl shifted out of his line of vision, he saw the woman Kaffa staring at him from beyond the ring of guards - and beside her was Tisah!
For a moment Kylin couldn't move. All he could think of was what he'd told Tisah about not wanting any other woman in his bed again, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was the look on her face and in her eyes, the look that said she had no right to ask that of him either. When had they said those things to each other? Kylin couldn't remember, but it really didn't matter. All that mattered was to get to her and explain -
And then that wretched Galena was at him again, trying to hold him down with her body weight. He shoved her aside with no trouble, but by then Tisah was already walking away, Kaffa by her side. Kylin untangled himself from the blankets and jumped to his feet, but made it no farther than the ring of guards. Not being stupid they were already waiting for him, and although he had their sympathy they had their orders. If he tried to follow the women, they were supposed to stop him.
Kylin had put more effort than he usually did into being patient with an unacceptable situation, understanding the needs and desires of the people who were restricting his movements. It had been necessary up until now, but now reaching Tisah and explaining what she'd really seen was what absolutely had to be done. Rather than go back to his place by the fire, then, Kylin made the effort to get through the ring of guards. With elbows and fists and feet he began to make progress, but there really were too many of them even for someone who wasn't as tired as he. And then they began to draw reinforcements from other parts of the camp, and the fight was over.
"Lord Kylin, are you all right?" Traixe demanded as soon as Kylin was thrown back to his blankets, the other man pulling away from the three guards who had been keeping him out of the fight. "Just stay there for a minute, and let me have a look."
"I'm not hurt," Kylin growled, impatiently wiping away the blood from the corner of his mouth as he sat up. "If there weren't so many of them - !"
"By the end of the fight there were fewer," Traixe commented dryly as he crouched beside Kylin. "Unfortunately it still wasn't enough. They even managed to tear your sleeve, but I can't see how they did that."
Kylin glanced at the four marks on his left arm, recent scars of some sort. He didn't remember any of his opponents doing something to cause them, but it didn't matter. Other things were of more concern.
"Traixe, I have to talk to Tisah," he said in the same growl, for the first time noticing that Galena had disappeared. And a damned good thing for her, otherwise he would have - "Something happened, but it isn't what she thinks. I've got to tell her I wasn't lying."
"I think your only option at this point is to send a message," Traixe answered, glancing at the reinforced guard ring. "You won't be getting past them now, not after what you did to so many of them. You'll forgive the observation, my lord, but you should have given me the chance to lend a hand or two."
Kylin didn't bother to point out that he hadn't had the time to stop and think. Traixe was right in saying he should have, but it was much too late to fix the mistake. He was now stuck with it, just the way he was stuck with no way of speaking to Tisah.
"Maybe that woman Kaffa will stop over again," Traixe offered, shifting to a seated position on the ground. "If she does, you can give her the message. I'm certain she'll see it's delivered."
"But will she see that it's believed?" Kylin muttered, leaning back to his elbows in seething frustration. He had to do something, but what?
The answer to that refused to show itself, even after food was brought them. They were no longer free to go over and help themselves, which closed another door of opportunity. Kylin chewed his food grimly, his eyes on the camp's activity rather than his meal, looking for something - anything! - that would give him a chance to get what he wanted. A sloppy group of guards, an incident that would distract everyone's attention, an emergency that would do the same, something…
And then Kylin realized he hadn't seen Tisah in a while, not even the shadow of her moving near the fire she'd claimed. It was dark and cold and getting darker, so where could she be? That wasn't her on the ground near the fire … already deeply asleep … not with the misunderstanding between them still unresolved…
I was hungry enough to need the meat stew Kaffa forced on me, but after I finished I didn't know if it was the best thing I'd ever eaten or the worst. I'd been telling myself I had no reason to feel horribly depressed and utterly miserable, but myself was showing no interest in listening. It didn't want to hear that a man who has been turned down has the right to look elsewhere for companionship, and not only the right but would be crazy to do otherwise. It was feeling it had thrown away something special that it could have had, and it refused to listen to any other opinion.
It. If I'd had any laughter in me, I would have laughed at that. There wasn't some individual "it" who felt that way, the "it" was me - or at least part of me. Some part of me refused to understand that I hadn't thrown away anything I could consider mine, not with everything else to be considered. Kylin had never been mine, had never even had the chance to become something special. Every circumstance in that horrible mess conspired against it, but some mindless, idiot part of me refused to accept that.
"You can't stay and he can't leave," I whispered into the flames of the fire I sat near, sipping the warmed wine Kaffa had produced from some private source. "As a matter of fact, you don't even intend to live much longer, so why are you making such a big thing out of this?"
The inner me hesitated over that reminder, enough so that I was able to distantly notice what sounded like a fight not too far off, but I wasn't interested enough to wonder what it could be about. What I wondered was how long it would take me to come up with a battle plan Kaffa and her fighters could use, especially since we'd be getting to the Valley of the Cave tomorrow. It wasn't just troops keeping the mountain fighters from retaking what they'd lost. There was something most were calling magic, magic from an evil source…
"You'll have to see it to understand," Kaffa had said, looking even less like the lighthearted practical joker I'd known a lifetime ago. "There's some kind of orangey-gray mist spread through the Valley, and the older folk say there's never been anythin' like it. When our fighters charged down into it the first time, meanin' to drive those mercenaries out, things started happenin'. Fighters who had lived all their lives in the Valley got lost, if you can believe that, and some went after mercenary groups that faded away and disappeared from in front of them, only to reappear behind them and on their flanks in attack. It's a wonder any of our people made it out again still alive."
"And that's what I'm supposed to come up with an attack plan to counter?" I'd asked, letting my expression show my opinion of her sanity. "What do I know about magic?"
"It must be somethin' good, or the Spirits wouldn't be countin' on you so heavily," she'd countered, sounding and looking totally confident. "The Spirits have fun keepin' us from understandin' things, but that's not because they don't understand. If they say you can do it, you'll find you'll be able to do it."
"For some reason I don't have your faith in the Spirits," I'd muttered back, grimacing at her. "I can just see myself lining everybody up around the Valley, making them all raise both arms, and then having them chant, 'Mist go away! Mist go away!'"
"If that's what it takes, that's what we'll do," she'd answered with a laugh, part of the grimness gone. "We have to get back possession of that valley, and it doesn't matter how it gets done. If swords don't work but chantin' does, we'll put away our swords and start chantin'."
"Would you like to tell me now what's so important about that valley?" I'd asked, deciding it was the right time to stop playing blind. "I asked that question once before, but you avoided answering in such a way that I didn't pursue the point. Since we're almost there, I thought you might be ready to part with the information."
"It's not for me to talk about, and trustin' you has nothin' to do with it," she'd answered, right then looking uncomfortable as well as annoyed. "There is somethin' special about the place, but only a few know exactly what and none of those few are lowlanders. If it gets to the point of you havin' to know, the Spirits will make sure you do."
"How good of them," I'd answered in turn, and then I'd let the subject drop. I was supposed to be indispensable for overcoming some sort of evil magic, but Evon forbid I do it any way but tied hand and foot and blindfolded. Of all the stupid things…
My mind came back to the present as I finished off the last of the wine, and I realized the camp was quiet again and had been for a number of minutes. Those things encouraged me to pull my fur cloak more tightly around me before lying down, finally giving in to the tiredness I felt. Had been feeling for days. Couldn't remember not feeling. Depressed and miserable and hating myself and tired and…
I was beginning to hate the sight of gray stone corridors. Every time I looked around at them I remembered I hadn't yet finished what I was here for, and therefore still couldn't leave. The stone was silent except for the sound of my bootsteps, as though broodingly considering what it would next witness happening to us, a motionless uncaring that scented the very air it contained. And a smug sense of satisfaction that it was unending, unlike people and situations and relationships…
"Hey, Softy, have I turned invisible?" I heard in Rull's voice, which made me stop and look back over my left shoulder. He stood leaning against one of those hateful stone walls, and I'd gone a good five feet beyond him.
"I'm sorry, Rull, I just didn't see you," I said, turning to retrace the extra steps I'd taken. "I really need to have all this over and done with, so I suppose I was wishful thinking I could do it alone. If you hadn't stopped me I suppose I would have just kept going."
"Then it's a good thing I stopped you," he said with a frown, looking down at me where I stood in front of him. "We already know this can't be done by only one of you - Softy, what's the matter? You look so … defeated, and hopeless."
"It isn't anything that has to do with what we're here for," I said with a headshake, moving my eyes away from him. "No one has to worry about that, at least. When it comes time to fight, I'll fight."
"When a sword loses its edge, it isn't a sword anymore," he came back, quoting an old Fighter saying. "Right then it's a bar of metal with a handle, even if you keep calling it a sword. No sword can fight without an edge, Softy, and that goes double for a Sword. The enemy's done something to blunt your edge."
"As laughable as it seems, this time the enemy is innocent," I said with a totally humorless smile. "It's something else entirely, but I can handle it, Rull, really I can. You and Traixe are depending on me, and I'd die before I let either of you down."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid you'll do," he came back, the frown still in his voice. "Die just before letting us down. If it isn't Traixe or me who's made you feel like this, the only one left is Kylin. What happened when you told him you were breaking it off entirely?"
"Oh, he said some things about refusing to let that happen, but they weren't true," I said with the deep sigh filling me. "That actually makes it a lot easier, and he does have the right to do anything he pleases. I'm just being silly feeling the way I do, and I know it'll pass as soon as the action starts. Everything has to end at some time, even impossible dreams. Especially impossible dreams."
"Well, I'm glad to see that this time you waited," Traixe's voice came, interrupting whatever Rull had been about to say. We turned our heads to watch him walk up to us, and his satisfied smile faded. "What's wrong? What did I interrupt?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out," Rull answered, back to looking at me. "What sort of impossible dreams are you talking about, Softy, and in what way does Kylin have the right to do as he pleases?"
"In whatever way," I said with a shrug. "The details are vague just as they always are here, but that's what I feel. That he has the right, and I have none to complain. It's finally all over, just as I always knew it would be."
"Between you and Kylin?" Traixe demanded in disbelief. "That's not possible. I know better even if you don't, although you should. What has he said about all this?"
"Since he's late again, he's just about said it all," I pointed out, feeling the vague stirring of annoyance. "If he didn't have better things to do with his time, he'd be here with the rest of us a little more promptly. I'd say it was time to let it drop, Traixe."
"It won't ever be time for that," the Fighter said flatly, the look in his dark eyes kindling my annoyance to higher levels. "You're assuming things again, Sofaltis, which you tend to do no matter how many times your previous assumptions turn out wrong. We'll wait until Kylin gets here, and then we'll see."
"You expect to see more than the fact that he's here?" I came back, taking my own turn at demanding. "Why don't you wake up, Traixe, and admit your hero isn't as perfect as you thought? He's as human as the rest of us, and lies just as often. Evon may be perfect, but human men - "
"Tisah!" The call interrupted me, but I didn't have to turn to know our fourth was striding up the corridor to finally put in an appearance. He sounded bothered, which just about made it unanimous.
"Tisah, you have to let me apologize," he said as he reached us, his hand coming to my right shoulder from behind. "It isn't what you think, you must believe that. I didn't lie."
"What isn't what I think?" I asked, moving away from his hand as I turned to face him. "And if you didn't lie, what are you apologizing for?"
"I - don't know," he admitted with frustration sticking out in lumps, that and exasperation. "Something happened, I do know that much, but it wasn't my fault."
"Then no one can be blaming you," I said, keeping the words very even. "And now that we're all here, it's time to be on our way."
I started off up the corridor again, just as anxious to be out of that conversation as to finish what we were doing, but some people go out of their way to refuse to cooperate.
"We can't just leave it like that," Kylin said, a big hand coming to my arm in an effort to stop me. "We have to talk this out before we do anything else."
"How can we talk out something we can't remember?" I asked in a voice I hoped sounded reasonable, keeping my eyes on the way we had to go. "You want me to believe you? Fine, I believe you. Now you can let go of my arm. I don't fight well in this position."
"Tisah, please," he whispered, his fingers tightening rather than loosening. "You have every right to be angry, but you're not doing that. You're accepting something you think is true, but it isn't and I don't want you to accept it! Don't withdraw from me without giving me the chance to make it right."
"You're hurting my arm," I said without looking at him, somehow finding the pain easier to bear than the caresses he'd previously given. His grip loosened immediately, which was a laugh in itself. He never would have stopped if he'd been giving me the greater pain.
"We really don't have the time for this now," I said after taking a deep breath. "I have a feeling we're close to the end of the path, and that has to come first. Once this chore is behind us, we can talk until we both forget the language."
"Putting it off is a mistake," he said at once, and I could feel the way his fingers wanted to tighten again. "Too many things have been put off too many times already, and everything has gotten worse because of it. We have to settle things now, before they grow completely out of hand."
"All right, then we'll settle things now," I said, and if the words didn't come out from between clenched teeth, I have no idea how they did get out. "Go ahead and start getting them settled."
I moved to the rock wall at my left and folded my arms as I leaned my back against it, staring at him as directly as it's possible to do. Traixe and Rull were a couple of paces to the right, obviously having decided not to mix in, their eyes also resting on Kylin. We were all waiting to hear what would be said, but the man who had insisted on having a talk was also having trouble getting started. He seemed to be trying to choose exactly the right words, and then he shook his head in annoyance.
"How in Evon's sharpest hell do you defend actions you can't even remember?" he demanded, apparently not realizing that that was what I had said. "Tisah, I know something happened that you were a witness to, but it wasn't the way it looked. I wasn't responsible for the happening, and I didn't lie. If you can make yourself believe that, then everything will be back to the way it was."
"If that's all you wanted, why didn't you say so?" I responded, still staring at him. "The last thing I remember telling you was that I wasn't going to be associating with you any longer. Did you think I was lying, or simply that you'd have no trouble making me change my mind?"
"It wasn't either of those things!" he protested, more off balance than I could ever remember seeing him. "You didn't really mean what you said, and it has nothing to do with what happened after - "
"Oh, so you did think I was lying," I interrupted, feeling myself stiffening in insult. "Or just girlishly mistaken, which you, as a big, strong man, would correct with no effort at all. Since my opinion obviously didn't matter then, what makes it so important now? The fact that this time it's you who looks like the liar?"
"Damn it, you're twisting everything!" he shouted, his face darkening with anger. "I never said I didn't believe you, and I never said your opinion doesn't matter! Your opinion happens to matter quite a lot to me, especially your good opinion. That's why - "
"That's why you decided to ignore my opinion in favor of your own?" I interrupted again, really beginning to get hot. "All that bullshit about me making the choices and you seeing my decisions were carried out was nothing but bullshit, wasn't it? It sounded so good you had to see if I'd be stupid enough to believe it."
"Every word I said was the truth," he ground out, fighting to get control of himself again. "You don't lie to the most important person in your life, which means I didn't lie to you. I meant everything I said."
"Well, I'm really glad to hear that," I said as I looked up at him with a small, satisfied smile. "My decision is that we have nothing more to do with each other, and now it's up to you to carry out that decision. Unless you were lying after all."
He opened his mouth to say something, then obviously realized he didn't know what that something should be. If he refused to do as I asked, he'd be admitting he'd lied after all. If he didn't refuse, he'd have to stop insisting that things be done his way. In either case I'd finally be out from under, and would no longer need to hurt all the time.
"I think you two should have saved this for later after all," Traixe put in after a moment, the words preceded by the sound of throat-clearing. "Let's take care of Evon's business first, and then we can return to more personal concerns."
"Or more involved ones, whichever way you care to look at it," Rull muttered. "Doing a god's work has to be easier than straightening out the relationship between two mortals. Gods are too smart to ever get into a fix like this."
Traixe made a sound of definite agreement, but I was already moving off again and so was able to ignore them both. Or ignore all three. Kylin was the first to follow me, but this time there was no vital conversation he insisted on getting to. We had the end of a task ahead of us, and that's what we would be concentrating on.
The rock corridor continued on for a short distance, and then, as usual, it changed. This time the start of the change was subtle, with a simple branching of the corridor. The branch to the left was the obvious way to go so I took it, the other three following along behind without comment. A few minutes later there was a triple branching, and when I chose the left again there was the least hesitation before I was followed. The third branching was a double again, but this time there was nothing as simple as hesitation behind me.
"Just a moment, Sofaltis," Traixe called, and I looked back to see his face creased into lines of worry as he stared at the right-hand passage. "We've gone left twice now. Don't you think it's time we tried the right?"
"I agree," Rull said, also studying the passageway I'd ignored. "This section is starting to look like a maze, and someone once told me that the way out of a maze is to always turn right. We haven't started doing that."
"I don't know anything about mazes, but I do know where the proper path lies," I said, surprised that they would say something like that. "If we turn right we'll lose our way, and end up wandering down here forever. I don't know about you two, but I don't intend to stay anywhere forever."
I turned my back and headed up the proper corridor with that, and after a little more hesitation they followed me. Kylin hadn't said anything about agreeing with the other two, but his expression had definitely been on the doubtful side. I didn't know what was wrong with all of them, but I was too wrapped up in other things to spend much thinking time on it.
That section of corridor was a little longer than the previous ones had been, and by the time we reached the end of it the light around us had dimmed perceptibly. We were also faced with the choice of four ways to go, but I knew the proper path lay up the second opening from the left. That the second opening was also the darkest opening immediately called up fresh rebellion.
"Sofaltis, this is too much!" Traixe protested, and when I turned again I saw that he spoke for Rull as well. "You can't expect us to go in there, not when those other corridors are obviously all better choices. No one with proper judgment would even consider that one, so I think it's time Lord Kylin took over leading us."
"You want Kylin to lead us?" I began with a disbelieving laugh, but that was as far as I got.
"Yes, even though he's a man we still think he can do a decent job," Rull interrupted, his tone very dry. "He's not a misunderstood, imposed-upon female, but we'd still like him to try. We tend to be more broadminded than you, but that's just because we're also silly men."
"Rull, that's stupid," I started again, trying to understand why they were acting like that. "It doesn't matter whether or not Kylin is male, you can't expect him to - "
"Tisah, maybe we ought to think about what they're saying," Kylin himself interrupted, his voice soothing and conciliatory. "I know you enjoy being the one who leads us, but isn't our task more important than individual enjoyment? Don't you want to see it over and done with so we can finally get out of here? Come on, just think of it as a short rest, and later you can take over again."
They were all staring at me soberly, waiting for me to see the reason in what Kylin had said, and truthfully I wasn't far from it. Somewhere inside me I was more tired than I'd ever been before, and the idea of a rest was one I could appreciate. Maybe this once I could give in and -
"No!" I said out loud, straightening to throw off the urge toward sweet reason. "Have all of you gone crazy? I'm the only one who can follow the path, so what could any of the rest of you do but get us lost? And don't forget you can't take off on your own, you have to follow me. Does that sound like I'm supposed to let someone else lead? Thinking may be painful for you, but how about trying it anyway?"
That got them mad just the way I knew it would, and their immediate argument helped to strengthen my resolve. Something was very wrong here, but telling them the enemy was working on us probably wouldn't have helped. It would have been a defensive argument, and what I needed right now was a whole lot of offensiveness.
By ignoring their shouting and heading into the proper corridor, I forced them to come along behind me. The stretch was really dim, but the darker it grew, the more my bracer glowed with a cool, silver-blue light. It was enough to see the ground by, and let us avoid a couple of pits we might have otherwise walked right into. After that the light began to strengthen again, and by the end of the corridor it was back to its usual brightness.
At that point the corridor turned twisty instead of running straight, and alternate routes appeared every time I blinked. My three companions were still clamoring about something or other behind me, but I continued to ignore them as I fought to know the proper way. A lot of the alternatives felt almost right, and if I'd been in the habit of questioning just how sure I was about many things, I probably would have been forced to a grinding halt.
By the time we rounded the last curve I was sweating, but I still had the proper path firmly in my mind's eye. I hadn't allowed myself to be forced into letting go of it, and didn't even know it was the last curve until Kylin's hand came to my arm. I glanced up as I came to a stop, about to ask what they wanted this time, but it suddenly became unnecessary to ask.
Not far ahead the corridor widened into a rounded, medium-sized chamber, one that appeared to be furnished like a room at an inn. There was a narrow bed, a washstand with basin and pitcher, and lamps hung on the rock of the walls. Even that very rock looked mundane, at least in comparison to what we'd been passing through, but that wasn't all the chamber contained. Sitting right in the middle of it in a straight-backed chair was a priest of Ramas, his tan robes belted with leather.
And between his hands, supported by nothing I could see, was a sphere of orange-tinged, grayish fog. His full attention had been completely on the sphere, but an instant after I saw him he looked up to see me in turn. His eyes were light and furious under a thatch of dark hair, and it wasn't difficult at all to understand that we'd finally found our unseen enemy.
"And I had my heart set on a warm, friendly welcome," Kylin muttered as he stepped up beside me to my left, drawing his sword as I drew mine. "But this, I have the feeling, will be the last of that long string of nasty surprises."
"Not to mention an opportunity for payback time," I muttered in response, moving slowly forward with him in an effort to get more elbow space. "I'll take that in place of a smile and a sandwich any day."
"Do you two awkward children believe you're fooling me?" the priest of Ramas suddenly demanded, his deep voice echoing strangely, a cold smile on his colder face. "You, girl, can't abide that man's presence anywhere near you, and he has grown weary beyond belief with the need to tickle and coax you. Two who can't even speak together will hardly be able to fight together."
With the last of his words two shadow fighters appeared in the space between us and the seated man, and half a breath later Kylin and I were under attack. It was obvious we were supposed to go down under the onslaught, but once again the nonfighting priest of Ramas had miscalculated due to knowing little or nothing about fighters.
As I fended off my opponent's attack and took my own turn at driving forward, my mind ghosted over the words the priest had spoken. I didn't think about them any more than I would have thought about an insult designed to make me lose my temper, and Kylin was undoubtedly doing the same. Those who don't know how to keep from reacting to taunts usually don't live very long. Experienced fighters ignore inflammatory comments - even when part of those comments probably came close to being completely true.
My shadow attacker was better than its predecessors in that it didn't fight in any standard, easily countered way. It seemed to be fighting almost without thought, mostly attacking, defending only when necessary. It's usually called berserker behavior, I think, or at least almost that, and must have seemed like a good idea to the man directing the action. The only problem is that you don't send a berserker in against skilled fighters who have no intention of becoming intimidated, not unless you don't mind losing the berserker.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kylin's opponent getting chopped down, and a moment later my point slid through an opening to stop my own. The thing didn't have time to hit the floor before it and its former partner disappeared, and then two more attackers were coming at us. For an instant I saw the expression on the face of the priest, anger tinged with vindictive determination, and knew for certain we were in for it.
This time it was my opponent who went down first, but only by half a heartbeat. Kylin's followed almost immediately, but as soon as it did there was a third pair attacking us. I took an instant to wipe the sweat out of my eyes before going back to parrying and attacking, but it was clear we couldn't keep this up forever. I was so tired it was probably Evon who had kept me going this long, and all too soon one of that unending parade of shadows would be getting me.
And Kylin. And then Traixe and Rull. Something had to be done to stop it, but the only way of doing that would be to reach the priest of Ramas. He was obviously the one sending these shadows against us, but how -
And then I had it. It was a theory that might not hold, but it was at least worth trying. And it had to be done the first time, but how could I make Kylin understand without warning the man in the chair? I thought frantically as I simply defended for a while, and then I saw that what I was doing was the answer I needed.
"Ky, pretend your opponent is me," I called over, hoping he would understand. "Just for a little while, pretend it's me."
I had the impression the smooth flow of his movement faltered for the briefest instant, but then he was right back to it. I had no idea whether he was doing as I'd asked, and I didn't have the time to find out. Instead I parried my opponent's latest attack and went on the offensive, driving for all I was worth. I slashed and hacked in true berserker style, pretending I'd given up on defense, dangling an opening my opponent was certain to see. When it did see the opening and went for it, I cut the shadow down.
And then I moved even faster than I had during the fight. Shifting my sword to my left hand I pulled my dagger out, took aim, then let fly, all in the blink of an eye or hopefully almost that fast. An eye was what I aimed for, an eye of the priest of Ramas, and when the dagger reached its target it took a moment before anything happened. There was no reaction, nothing, and then -
And then the man screamed, fury and hatred clear in the sound, fear and defeat adding cords of their own. The shadow in front of Kylin simply disappeared, popping out of existence as quickly and easily as it had come, and then the orange-tinted gray sphere between the priest's hands began to dissolve. The orange tinge went first, leaving gray smoke that floated out of the shape it had been holding, and then the floating smoke began to thin. In a minute or two it was all gone, leaving a dead man with hands still held up in front of him, an empty space between them, and a dagger in one of his unseeing eyes.
"Beautiful work, Sofaltis, really excellent," Traixe said, coming up behind me to put his hands to my arms. I was just about trembling with fatigue and reaction, and the support was more than welcome.
"I think they'd better sit down and rest for a few minutes," Rull said from a place near Kylin. "Since we haven't quite reached where we're going, we can't have our protectors passing out from exhaustion."
I glanced over to see that Kylin looked almost as tired as I felt, and he hadn't sheathed his sword any more than I had. It was clear the idea about resting was a good one, and I got a glance in return before he began to lower himself to sitting on the floor.
"It's a good thing you can think that fast," he said as he sat, obviously talking to me. "You wanted me to do nothing but defend against that last shadow, keeping it alive so the one in front of you would not be replaced as soon as you killed it. That gave you the chance to go after the priest of Ramas, which you did."
I felt the urge to nod as I also sat, but there weren't any words to go along with the gesture. He'd understood perfectly and he'd acted accordingly, and because of that we'd won. It had been a team effort, not an individual doing, and it was just luck that I'd thought of it first. He could just as easily have been the one…
I pushed away the pointless rambling with a sigh, staring down at the hilt in my hand as I finally let myself think about what the priest of Ramas had said. He'd been lying about how I felt toward Kylin, but he must have been dead on when it came to how the big King's Fighter felt. Despite all the trouble I'd been having with Kylin I didn't mind at all being near him, but his being weary beyond belief over what I'd put him through could only be the truth. I couldn't imagine him not being sick and tired of it, even if he didn't want to be.
And why wouldn't he want to be? I smiled faintly to myself as I shifted a little on the stone of the floor, not terribly surprised that he'd finally had enough. If it had been me in his place I would have stopped wasting my time a whole lot earlier, but he'd let determination force him to keep going. Now, though, it was finally over, and I had what I'd wanted.
Had what I'd wanted. I'd never realized before just how forlorn a feeling could come with those otherwise happy words.
Kylin watched Sofaltis sit down with a nod, but she didn't speak and certainly didn't look at him. She was probably wondering how he would take the truth now that he finally knew it, wondering if he would make a scene or ignore that truth and just keep bothering her…
Just as he'd been bothering her, so much so that now she couldn't stand having him anywhere near her. He wasn't tired of trying to make her his - it isn't possible to get tired of trying for the thing you want most in life - but she certainly had to be tired of hearing him go on and on. Attention up to a point is flattering, but after that it gets so bad that you can't stand it anymore.
And so it was over, and in a way he hadn't anticipated. He looked at the orange smears on his sword without seeing them, wondering what he was going to do now. The situation was hellishly involved, much more so than Sofaltis knew, and it would somehow have to be worked out. He hadn't expected to be glad that they weren't yet through with their task in these caves, but anything that put off the final time with the woman he loved couldn't be all bad…
His thoughts turned vague after that, filled with only-ifs and other wishful thinking, the passage of time meaning nothing until Traixe came to put a hand to his shoulder. The Fighter and Rullin were wondering if he and Sofaltis were up to moving on, but if not they could wait another few minutes. Kylin was already beginning to stand when he realized that Sofaltis was doing the same, so there was no need for discussion. It was time to move on, so they would.
Sofaltis briefly wiped her sword on the shoulder of the robe the priest of Ramas would never again need clean, and after doing the same Kylin followed along. He kept the other two men between him and the woman he loved, the least he could do for her now. It helped quite a lot that that was where he was supposed to be, acting rearguard, letting her lead in peace. If she needed him he would be beside her instantly, but for the moment…
Or longer than a moment. Sofaltis led them out through a door on the far side of the chamber, and then they were walking through rock corridors again. The new corridors seemed different somehow, less threatening and brooding, more like ordinary rock corridors. He sheathed his sword as he walked, just as Sofaltis had done, but he didn't let himself relax. Their task wasn't yet over, and there would certainly be more fighting ahead.
But they walked on and on, and the fighting was still not there. Twists and turns and traps were also missing, but not a sense of frustrated expectancy. They knew they were almost there, they were ready for whatever would come - but the whatever refused to come. The corridor walls were now rough-cut with sputtering torches doing a poor job of lighting the way, but there was no one and nothing to fight against.
And then, after what seemed like hours, an opening appeared at what looked like the end of the corridor. Sofaltis slowed down and drew her sword before advancing toward the opening, so Kylin drew his own weapon before hurrying forward to join her.
When I reached the opening I looked out carefully, intending to see without being seen. I could hear what sounded like voices engaged in desultory conversation, short comments exchanged between people who were bored with what was - or wasn't - going on. Traixe and Rull were right behind me, all but walking on my heels, formless excitement radiating from them like heat waves.
All four of us peered out together, and if there weren't any gasps of surprise it's only because we were all professionals. What we looked out at was a large natural cave, well lit and divided into two sections. To our left was the larger section, a big cave area with a wide entrance that obviously led to the outside. About three dozen mercenaries sat or lay on blankets scattered across the area, and all of them were facing the entrance.
On the right, closer to where we stood, was the smaller, dais-like section of the cave. Four men in brown robes belted with red cords sat on pallets there, but they weren't your ordinary priests of Grail. They also wore swords, and their faces had that ascetic look fanatics tend to wear. One of them said something, the others responded very softly in chorus, and then there was silence until another said something and the chorus sounded again.
All that was fascinating enough, but the true wonder lay behind the four supposed priests. On the cave wall behind them, in what looked like the center of the dais area, hung two large swords, crossed just above the guards with points upward. It wasn't possible to doubt that the swords were made of silver, not with the bluish glow surrounding them. And they also had to be Evon's silver, and what we'd come all that way for…
"Traixe and I have got to get to those swords," Rull said very softly from behind me, the words a flat statement of fact. "Do you think you and Kylin can handle those four harem guards until we do?"
"I'd say that that's what he and I are here for," I whispered back, wondering if I really looked at tired as I felt. Rull might have been asking just out of habit, which was what I hoped. If he knew how spent I was, he might try to hurry and end up doing something stupid.
"All right, here's how we'll play it," Kylin's soft comment came next. "She and I will move out first with you two directly behind us, and we'll put ourselves between them and the swords. That should put you two between us and the swords, giving you the cover you need. Right after that we'll be expecting you to join the fight and maybe even hog it all to yourselves. You have my word, at least, that I won't feel insulted or left out."
"You both need someone else to do the fighting for a while," Traixe whispered with the hint of a chuckle. "Rullin and I will be delighted to take our turn as soon as we have our weapons, and after that we'll retreat back to this cleft. Let's go right now."
There was no denying how eager he and Rull were, but that was what they were here for. The longer we waited the more tired Kylin and I would be, so the big King's Fighter didn't waste any time. He moved up beside me and raised his sword, and then we were moving out into the cave as fast as we possibly could. If we were delayed by anything those mercenaries would have time to join the priests of Grail, and that would be the end of us.
One of the brown-robed priests sat gaping in shock at sight of us, but the other three climbed immediately to their feet, hands freeing swords from scabbards. By the time we reached them the fourth was scrambling erect, and the other three were trying to put themselves closer to the silver swords. Kylin and I found the strength somewhere to move even faster, and then we were slashing viciously with our swords, driving the robed guardians back from what they had no right to guard.
That, of course, was the start of the fight, and if the four men in front of us had been at all good with the weapons they held it would also have been the end. I could feel the sweat breaking out on my forehead as I struggled to keep from being sliced or spitted by amateurs, but luckily Kylin seemed to be in better shape. He actually managed an attack or two while he defended himself, and because of that the two in front of me were rattled. They were ready to die rather than run, but they were still rattled.
And then there were two other fighters jostling me out of the way, and the robed men were granted their wish. Rull and Traixe gave them death rather than dishonor, and I just stood there watching while I tried to catch my breath. It wasn't as easy doing that as it had once been, and we weren't out of trouble yet. Those mercenaries in the larger part of the cave…
I suddenly realized there was more noise than there should have been, and looked up to see that the mercenaries were too busy with troubles of their own to give us any. Dozens of mountain fighters poured into the cave, male and female alike with blood in their eyes, each one falling over his or her feet to get to a mercenary first. Traixe and Rull finished the last two priests, but they were too high to simply stop. They jumped down from the dais and headed for the other fight, probably hoping for a share of it, and after a very brief hesitation Kylin followed after them. There was something strange about those three, strange and different…
And then the obvious pushed its way through the waves of exhaustion trying to roll over me. Rull was still dressed in black leather, but it was his everyday leather rather than the dress blacks he'd been wearing. Traixe was in plain trail clothes rather than the brown of a Fighter, and Kylin wore the same. No tight tan trousers and wide-sleeved white shirt … and the swords Traixe and Rull held were ordinary-looking ones…
I looked down at myself to see black cloth trousers and a green shirt, then turned slowly to look up at Evon's silver swords. There was now only a single sword and it seemed to be there on the wall, but somehow I knew better. We had moved from dream time back to the real world, and now that sword had become two and were Rull's and Traixe's to use, with Evon's blessing and at his express command. Two bracers bestowed, and now two swords.
I knew I was finally awake again, and for the first time could remember everything that had happened during what wasn't really dreaming. In some way those dreams had been real, and now it was all running together in my mind -
I turned fast and raised my sword when a group of armed people burst into the cave from a cleft in the rock to the right, but it was only more mountain fighters. They looked around quickly to see that the fighting was just about over, cursed their bad luck, then rushed off to see if there was any chance of joining those who had gotten here earlier. All of them ran off but one, and he came over to me with the strangest look on his face.
"Why are you staring at me like that, Reedin?" I asked, making no effort to hide how tired I was. "And make your answer brief, or I'll fall asleep listening to it."
"I'm tryin' to figure out how you the others got here," he said, stopping about three feet away. "Last I saw, Kaffa was still tryin' to wake the bunch of you. It wasn't the first time she tried but she still couldn't do it, and then somebody rode up to say the mist was disappearin'. We loaded you on your horses and got to the Valley fast, and then Kaffa sent me and those others through the side tunnel while all the rest came straight on… But you got here first!"
"We took a shortcut you don't know about," I told his plaintive, confusion-filled protest. "The mountain Spirits told Kaffa I was the one who would get her and her fighters into the Valley, but she assumed they meant with a plan of attack. Actually I got rid of the mist instead of finding a way through it, and accomplished her purpose that way. Now I should be able to get a decent night's sleep."
"If that Galena don't start nothin' with you," he answered with a touch of sourness, still looking confused. "She was one of those who came through the side tunnel with me, and all she kept mutterin' about was how she meant to call you out soon as you woke up. She wants that big lowlander real bad, but he won't look at her 'causa you. Wouldn't know what she sees in a man who chases after another man's woman, but you won't have trouble bestin' her. She's just - "
"Wait a minute," I said, struggling to understand what he was talking about. "Who is this Galena, and what's her problem with Kylin?"
"Seems he pulled her out of trouble with a bunch of mercenaries," Reedin said with a shrug. "She decided to thank him in the closest way, but he said no. She kept offerin', he kept sayin' no, and that made her real hot for him. She even tried climbin' into his blankets with him, but all she got outta that was a kiss she forced him to. Now she thinks she's gotta get rid of you so she can have him, but…"
He rattled on with the rest of his explanation, but I was no longer listening. So that was what Kylin swore he hadn't lied about, the thing neither of us could remember. I remembered it now, though, and it felt strange to learn he'd been telling the truth. Strange in what way I didn't want to think about, but definitely strange.
And then I remembered how I'd felt about what the priest of Ramas had told me. I'd believed him completely, had certainly been meant to believe him, but now…
"Reedin, do you think you could guide me out of here by the side tunnel you used to come in?" I asked, interrupting whatever he'd been saying. "Right now, and without telling anyone about it?"
"Sure," he answered, back to looking confused. "But why - "
"Because you owe me something for all the trouble you've been causing," I stated flatly, not about to give him the chance to think I would owe him. "I want to get back to where my horse is, and I want to do it without stopping to talk to half the fighters in this Valley. Are you willing to do it on that basis?"
"I guess it takes a man to admit when he's been pushin' too hard," the boy said with a sigh. "That don't mean I'm givin' up, but I do owe you so I gotta pay."
He put a hand out toward the cleft he'd come out of as he began to move off, and after glancing to the left I nodded and followed him. The tunnel mouth Kylin, Traixe, Rull and I had come from was no longer there, which probably meant it had never been there. It was part of the dream world I would not be seeing again, a dream world I would be missing in only one small way.
As I edged into the cleft behind Reedin, I thought once about how good it was to share danger and safety with someone special, and then I forced myself to forget about dreams.
The area where the horses had been left was just about deserted, and there were still some sounds of battle coming from the Valley below us. Small pockets of resistance, most likely, and not likely to be resisting for long. Nimram's forces had suffered a resounding defeat - along with those priests of Ramas who had joined him - which ought to mean a victory for Evon's side. But it was only one battle, I knew, not the war, and we had more battles ahead of us-
"Your stallion's over there," a male voice said from behind me, and Reedin and I both turned to see a man I knew but couldn't place for a moment. And then I recognized the man from the inn, the one who had knocked Reedin out when the boy had been drunk. The one who hadn't told me his name.
"Thank you," I said before Reedin could come up with something of his own, something nasty if his expression meant what I thought. "I appreciate your telling me that. Now I'll bid you both farewell, and maybe we'll meet again some day."
"You can't leave yet, girl," Reedin said at once, grabbing my arm as I began to walk away from him. "At least not without me. If you ain't stayin' in the mountains, then neither am I."
"Boy, you stop botherin' that woman," the man said, his voice even and cool but filled with command. "There were things you were supposed to do for her in return for her savin' your life, and now they're done. You walk away and let it be, 'cause she isn't meant to be yours."
"So you say!" Reedin returned hotly, glaring at the older man. "I say you want her for yourself, but it ain't gonna happen. I don't know you, man, but that don't mean I can't kill you."
"But it does mean that, and you do know me," the man countered, still cool and easy. "Mountain folk call me Aberdon."
Reedin was about to snap out something else and then he paused, stared more closely at the man Aberdon, then paled.
"No," he whispered as he shook his head, tears appearing in his eyes. "They promised her to me, they promised."
"They said she would belong to the man whose life she saved," Aberdon stated with a slow shake of his head. "She told you herself you weren't the only one, and she wasn't lyin'. On top of that you're not a man yet, somethin' everybody but you can see. Go back to the Cave, Reedin, and understand that you'll get over this. Take my word it'll happen."
The boy nodded numbly, looked at me one last time, then turned to go back the way he'd just brought me. I stared until he was out of sight, then turned my surprise to Aberdon.
"I don't believe he just walked away," I said, trying to see what Reedin could have seen in the man to believe him so thoroughly. "What kind of magic did you use?"
"I used the magic of the mountain Spirits," he answered with a grin. "All mountain folk know my name, and know the look of a man entitled to use that name. There's no arguin' with what I have to say."
"If you say so," I responded with a shrug, understanding almost nothing of what he'd told me. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way. I'd like to get as far as possible before I fall asleep on my feet."
"I'll walk with you to your horse," he said, beginning to lead the way in the direction he'd earlier pointed to. "I know you want to get movin' before Kylin realizes you're gone, but you'll do it so there's no need to rush. And once you get down to the skirts of the mountain you can stop to sleep. The Spirits'll watch over you while you do, and won't let anybody catch up."
"You seem to know an awful lot about the intentions and wants of the Spirits," I said slowly as I looked up at him with a frown. "What do you mean, I will get away? That sounds like somebody has decided they want me doing that, and has taken steps to see to it. And what do you know about Kylin?"
"I know about everythin' that's happened to you, both awake and asleep," he said, glancing at me as we walked. "You understand now that what that priest of Ramas said to you both was a lie, and soon Kylin'll understand the same. You're not sick of Kylin and he's not tired of tryin' to catch you, so it isn't over between you. But he can't have you and you can't have him, so he won't be catchin' up again for a time. And there's other things you have to hear."
"Like what?" I asked, working to keep the words from coming out as a demand. Annoyance was drowning me in an ocean of indignation, and I was having trouble controlling it. Now Kylin and I weren't supposed to get together, and we were expected to accept those orders like good little soldiers? Who the hell did they - whoever "they" were - think they were?
"Like the word you wanted on your brothers," he said, suddenly getting my full attention. "The Spirits always pay their debts, and they owe you big now. Your brothers came through here half a decade ago, stayed for a while, then left to visit Ristain, the city of the Duke of the East. Some fighters told them about a night house in Ristain that was almost as good as a wild time, so they decided to try the house for themselves. If you talk to a worker named Elfie in the House of Deep Night, you should find out more about where they went next."
"Elfie in the House of Deep Night," I repeated, searing the names into my memory. "Tell the Spirits thank you, and that we're now even."
"Not yet," he disagreed, his grin softening the denial. "They know what they owe, and they don't believe in shortchangin'. The next time you come this way, they'll pay up on the rest."
"Whatever." I dismissed the idea with a shrug, not certain I ever would be back this way again. That was when I saw Bloodsheen, tied a short distance away from other horses on the same leather rope, and headed directly for him.
"You won't have trouble stayin' awake until you're down far enough," Aberdon said from behind me as he shifted from leading to following. "You have most of the day left, and you'll make good use of it. Keep your eyes open real wide in Ristain 'cause word is the king is on his way there for a visit. And His Holiness Nimram of Grail could show up, all by accident, of course, but at the same time…"
I was stroking Bloodsheen's nose when I heard that, and turned fast to ask him to go on. Even if he was simply mentioning a rumor I wanted to hear about it, but no such luck. I turned to find that Aberdon had disappeared, possibly into the clear blue sky.
"Faded out or walked away, it's you and me again, Bloodsheen," I told my mount with a sigh. "I'm assuming we won't need a guide to get down where we're supposed to sleep, or if we do need a guide we'll be provided with one. Let's get started and see how it works out."
I untied my horse from the line and checked his girth strap before mounting, then headed off in what felt like the best direction to go. A trail leading down appeared a minute or so later, which seemed to mean I had my guide. I could forget about where I was riding, and start to think about where I was going.
To Ristain, where my brothers had gone, and where both the king and Nimram were expected to show up. The possibilities involved there were fantastic, and I'd have to think carefully about what I would do. Find the night house worker named Elfie, of course, but then what? Take the opportunity to tell the king off before putting an end to Nimram and his schemes? Take care of Nimram before talking to the king? Which of them would get there first, and how important was talking to the king compared to stopping Nimram?
As I guided Bloodsheen down the relatively easy trail, I realized I had a lot of questions to answer before I got to Ristain. Among them was why Kylin was now being denied me, and whether or not I liked that idea. Everyone in sight - and a large number of people and beings out of sight - was trying to run my life, and I still refused to accept that.
But what if one group demanded I marry Kylin, while another group demanded I stay away from him? You can refuse to cooperate with people who demand things, but how do you refuse when whatever you do satisfies someone's demands? I hated the idea of being forced to cooperate with anyone involved in that mess, but it looked like I was trapped. Unless, of course, I came up with something that managed to defy both sides…
It would be a three or four day ride to Ristain, and I could see I was in no danger of running out of what to think about.
Even with all the mercenaries dead, it took a while for the excitement to die down in the Cave. Kylin stood to one side with Traixe and Rullin, leaning against a wall as he watched the mountain fighters looking carefully around. They wanted to make sure they hadn't missed any of the mercenaries and were being very, very thorough.
"That woman Kaffa just came in," Traixe remarked from Kylin's left. "If she's ever able to get through that mob, we may find out how the fighting is going in the rest of the Valley."
"And if she needs more fighters, Traixe and I are ready to volunteer," Rullin said with a laugh. "I don't know about him, but I've never felt this alert and ready."
Traixe agreed with a very wide grin, and Kylin realized they seemed to have forgotten about the very special swords they'd taken possession of. Those swords no longer looked special, but they were already beginning to affect their new owners.
"The only thing I want to know about is where I can find a quiet place for two people to sit down and talk," Kylin said, especially liking the part about sitting down. "It's time I told Tisah everything, and now that I can I intend to do it. She deserves to have a say in whatever we do next, and I'll see that she gets it. Besides, I have an answer to the puzzle."
"Puzzle, my lord?" Traixe said, turning around to stare at him. "What puzzle is that?"
"Don't you remember when she put me on the spot?" Kylin asked with a weary grin. "I'd promised to see to it that whatever she decided on came to be, and I swore that my word was good. That was when she announced she wanted me to leave her alone, and that it was up to me to make it happen. Whichever way I turned I was out of luck."
"Oh, yes, that," Rullin said as he stepped closer, Traixe nodding with a matching memory. "She mouse-trapped you good with that one, and I have to admit I was surprised. Don't you know better than to give an opening like that to someone who's been studying strategy and tactics since she was fourteen?"
"That's just one of the things I've had hints about but didn't know for certain," Kylin said with the old annoyance prodding him. "She's been trying hard not to let me get to know her, but that's all over with. From now on she'll have to get used to working at something else."
"And the answer, Lord Kylin?" Traixe said. "You have an answer to the puzzle she proposed?"
"The obvious one," Kylin said, making himself relax again. "I told her we would have that arrangement if she agreed to be my wife. Since she didn't agree, the arrangement wasn't in effect yet. And I'll bet she'll enjoy my having found a way out of that dilemma, just the way she was waiting for me to realize that that priest of Ramas was lying. He was trying to distract us enough that his shadows would be able to end us, so he lied about both sides of the - "
"There you are," the woman Kaffa said as she finally pushed her way through the milling fighters. "Now that the Valley of the Cave is ours again, you three get to have the rest you earned. There are some houses you didn't get to see on the way in, and we mean to make you comfortable in one of them. There's food already bein' cooked, so just follow me and I'll - "
"Wait a minute," Kylin interrupted, disliking the way he was about to be rushed off. "You're forgetting Tisah, who's still on that dais back there. I know she didn't go past me, so - "
"Kylin, she isn't there," Kaffa said as Kylin began to turn, certain of what he would see. "I know now about everythin' that happened, and even know a couple of things you don't. Aberdon stopped me on my way here."
"Who's Aberdon?" Kylin asked, still craning his neck to find where his Tisah was standing. "And she can't be gone. If she'd left I would have known about it."
"Not if the mountain Spirits didn't want you to know," Kaffa replied with a sigh. "They're still on your side, but - There are things goin' on that even they have no choice about. And Aberdon isn't a simple he, Aberdon's partly a manifestation of the Spirits themselves. Softy's gone off, and you can't go after her yet."
"Says who?" Kylin asked very softly, turning to look at the woman who was supposed to be Tisah's friend. "Who is there in this entire world who thinks he can keep me from going after the woman I love?"
"Now, it ain't me," the woman protested with hands raised before her, a wary look in her dark eyes. "Softy's got somethin' to do that's real important, Aberdon said. She needs to get where she's goin' before you catch up to her, so the mountain Spirits mean to see to it. They'll let you follow after a while, but in the meantime they gave you repayment for your inconvenience. I told you they were still on your side."
"Letting her ride off without me is supposed to be to my benefit?" Kylin demanded, close to being furious. His bracer was giving him nothing in the way of information, and without Evon showing him which way she'd gone -
"Aberdon told her she isn't allowed to get together with you," Kaffa said intensely, putting one hand to his chest. "Do you understand what I'm tellin' you, brother? Softy was told she can't have anythin' to do with you. Don't you see what that means?"
"It won't work," Kylin said with a headshake, but the fury was draining out of him. "I tried that myself, so I know it won't work. Just because it's somebody else telling her - "
"Not just somebody," Kaffa corrected when his words ended abruptly. "Somebody in authority, who expects her to take their orders even though she never said she would. How do you bet she'll react? Knowin' my Softy the way I do, I'm willin' to put gold on just how fast she digs in her heels."
"It won't be that easy," Kylin objected in a halfhearted way, for once hoping desperately that he'd be proven wrong. "After all this time and effort, it couldn't possibly turn out to be that easy. Could it?"
"We'll find out when we catch up to her, my lord," Traixe said, clapping him gently on the shoulder. "In the meanwhile, it might be a good idea to ask Evon to be certain she hasn't learned any of those lessons you tried to teach her. If she has and she accepts the latest order she was given…"
He didn't go on, but he didn't have to. Kylin groaned inwardly at the thought, and also at the idea of Tisah riding all alone again. He knew how well she would do at taking care of herself but he wanted to be with her, fighting at her side if a fight became necessary…
Fighting beside her, not with her. He was more than tired of fighting with her, and promised himself there would be no more of it. When he caught up to her he would tell her they were married, and then … no more fighting…
The End