Oathbreaker

Ten

Jadrek blinked, trying to force what he had just witnessed into some semblance of sense. He was mortally confused.

One moment, Kethry is dying; there is no chance anyone other than a god could survive her injuries. Then Tarma stands up and shrieks something in Shin'a'in -- and --

Kethry stirred groggily in his arms; he flushed, released her, and helped her to sit up, trying not to stare at the flesh showing through the rents in her leather riding clothing -- flesh that had been lacerated a moment ago.

"What ... happened?" she asked weakly, eyes dazed.

"I don't really know," he confessed. And thinking: Tarma was here, and now she's over there and I didn't see her move, I know I didn't'. Am I going mad?

Tarma got slowly to her feet, wavering like a drunk, and staggered over to them; she looked drained to exhaustion, her face was lined with pain and there were purplish circles beneath her eyes. It looked to Jadrek as if she was about to collapse at any moment.

For that matter, Keth looks the same, if not worse -- what am I thinking? Anything is better than being a heartbeat away from death.

Tarma fell heavily to her knees beside them, scrubbing away the tears still marking her cheeks with the back of a dirty hand, and leaving dirt smudges behind. She reached out gently with the same hand, and patted Kethry's cheek. The hand she used was shaking, and with the other arm she was bracing herself upright. "It's all right," she sighed, her voice sounding raw and worn to a thread. "It's all right. I did something -- and it worked. Don't ask what. Bright Star, I am tired to death!"

She collapsed into something vaguely like a sitting position right there in the dust beside them, head hanging; she leaned on both arms, breathing as heavily as if she had just run an endurance race.

Kethry tried to move, to get to her feet, and fell right back into Jadrek's willing embrace again. She held out her hand, and watched with an expression of confused fascination as it shook so hard she wouldn't have been able to hold a cup of water without losing half the contents.

"I feel awful -- but -- " she said, looking down at the shreds of her tunic with astonishment and utter bewilderment. "How did you -- "

"I said don't ask," Tarma replied, interrupting her. "I can't talk about it. Later, maybe -- not now. It -- put me through more than I expected. Jadrek, my friend -- "

"Yes?"

"I'm about as much use as a week-old kitten, and Keth's worse off than I am. I'm afraid that for once you're going to get to play man of muscle."

She looked aside at him, and managed to muster up a half grin. There wasn't much of it, and it was so tired it touched his heart with pity, but it was real, and that comforted him.

Whatever has happened, she knows exactly what she's doing, and it will be all right.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he said, trying to sound just as confident.

:There's still myself,: Warrl's dry voice echoed in their thoughts. :I have no hands, but I can be of some help.:

"Right you are, Furface. Oh gods," Tarma groaned as she got back up to her knees, and took Kethry's chin in her hand, tilting it up into the light. Jadrek could see that Kethry's pupils were dilated, and that she wasn't truly seeing anything. "What I thought -- Keth, you're shocky. Fight it, love. Jadrek and Warrl are going to find some place for us to hole up for a while." Tarma transferred her hold to Kethry's shoulder and shook her gently. "Answer me, Keth."

"Gods -- " Kethry replied, distantly. "And sleep?"

"As soon as we can. Fight, she'enedra."

"I'll...try."

"Warrl, get the horses over here, would you? Jadrek, you're going to have to help Keth mount. She's got no more bones right now than a sponge." He started to protest, but she cut him off with a weary wave of her hand. "Not to worry, our ladies are battlemares and they know the drill. I'll get them to lie down, you watch what I do, then give Keth a hand, and steady her as they get up. No lifting, just balancing. Hai?"

"As long as I'm not going to have to fling her into the saddle," he replied, relieved, "I don't see any problem."

"Good man," she approved. "Next thing -- Warrl will go looking for shelter; I want something more substantial than the tent around us tonight. You'll have to stay with us, keep Keth in her seat. I'll be all right, I've ridden semiconscious for miles when I've had to. When Warrl finds us a hole, you'll have to help us off, and do all the usual camp duties."

"No problem there, either; I'm a lot more trail wise than I was before this trip started." Aye, and. sounder in wind and limb, too.

Warrl appeared, the reins of Jadrek's palfrey in his mouth, the two battlemares following without needing to be led. Jadrek watched as Tarma gave her Ironheart a command in Shin'a'in, and was astounded to see the mare carefully fold her long legs beneath her and sink to the dusty ground, positioning herself so that she was lying within an arm's length of the exhausted Swordswornan. Tarma managed to clamber into the saddle, winding up kneeling with her legs straddling the mare's back. She gave another command, and the mare slowly lurched to her feet, unbalanced by the weight of the rider, but managing to compensate for it. Tarma glanced over at Jadrek, "Think you can deal with that?"

"I think so."

Tarma repeated her command to Hellsbane; the second mare did exactly as her herd-sister had. Jadrek helped Kethry into the same position Tarma had taken, feeling her shaking from head to toe every time she had to move. Tarma gave the second command, and the mare staggered erect, with Jadrek holding Kethry in the saddle the whole time.

Warrl flicked his tail, and Jadrek felt a wave of approval from the kyree. :I go. packmates. You go on -- it were best you removed yourselves from the scene of combat.:

"Spies?" Jadrek asked aloud.

:Possible. Also things that feed on magic, and more ordinary carrion eaters. Shall we take the enemy beast?:

Tarma looked over her shoulder at the weary gelding, which was still where the mage had left it, off to one side of the trail. "I don't think so," she replied after a moment. "It's just short of foundering. Jadrek, could you strip it? Leave the harness, bring anything useful you find in the packs, then let the poor thing run free."

He did as she asked; once free of saddle and bridle the beast seemed to take a little more interest in life and moved off at a very slow walk, heading deeper into the hills. Warrl trotted down the trail, and vanished from sight once past the place where it exited the valley. Jadrek mounted his own palfrey with a grunt of effort, and rode it in close beside Kethry, so that he could steady her from the side.

"You ready, wise brother?" Tarma asked.

"I think so. And not feeling particularly wise."

"Take lead then; my eyes keep fogging. Ironheart knows to follow her sister."

They headed out of the little valley, and the trail became much easier; the hills now rolling rather than craggy, and covered with winter-killed grass. But after a few hundred feet it became obvious that their original plan wasn't going to work. Kethry kept drifting in and out of awareness, and sliding out of her saddle as she lost her hold on the world. Every time she started to fall, Jadrek had to rein in both Hellsbane and his palfrey to keep her from falling over. The gaits and sizes of the two horses just weren't evenly matched enough that he could keep her steady while riding.

He finally pulled up and dismounted, walking stiffly back toward the drooping Shin'a'in. Tarma jerked awake at the sound of his footsteps.

"What? Jadrek?" she said, shaking her head to clear it.

He looked measuringly at her; she looked awake enough to think. "If I tethered Vega's reins to the back of your saddle, would that bother 'Heart?" he asked.

"No, not't all" Tarma replied, slurring her words a little. "She's led b'fore. Why?"

"Because this isn't going to work; I'm going to put the packs on Vega and ride double with Keth, the way you carried me up here, only with me keeping her on."

Tarma managed a tired chuckle. "Dunno why I didn' think of that. Too ... blamed ... tired...."

She dozed off as Jadrek made the transfer of the packs, then put a long lead-rein on Vega's halter and fastened it to the back of Tarma's saddle. He approached Hellsbane with a certain amount of trepidation, but the mare gave him a long sniff, then allowed him to mount in front of Kethry with no interference -- although with his stiff joints, swinging his leg over 'Bane's neck instead of her back wasn't something he wanted to repeat if he had any choice. He would have tried to get up behind Kethry, but he wasn't sure he could get her to shift forward enough, and he wasn't certain he'd be able to stick on the battlemare's back if she broke into anything other than a walk. So instead he brought both of Kethry's arms around his waist, and loosely tied her wrists together. She sighed and settled against his shoulder as comfortably as if it were a pillow in her own bed.

He rather enjoyed the feeling of her snuggled up against his back, truth be told.

He nudged Hellsbane into motion again, and they continued on down the trail. The sky stayed gray but showed no signs of breaking into rain or sleet, and there was no hint of a change in the weather on the sterile, dusty air. The horses kept to a sedate walk, Tarma half-slept, and Kethry was so limp he was certain she was completely asleep. It was a little frightening, being the only one of the group still completely functional. He wasn't used to having people rely on him. It was exciting, in an uneasy sort of way, but he wasn't sure that he liked that kind of excitement.

Warrl returned from time to time, always with the disappointing news that he hadn't found anything. Jadrek began to resign himself to either riding all night -- and hoping that there wasn't going to be another storm -- or trying to put up the tent by himself. But about an hour before sunset, the kyree came trotting back with word that he'd found a shepherd's hut, currently unused. Jadrek set Hellsbane to following him off the track, and Ironheart followed her without Tarma ever waking.

She did come to herself once they'd stopped, and she seemed a bit less groggy. She got herself dismounted without his help, got their bedrolls off Vega, and carried them inside with her. She actually managed to get their bedding set up while Jadrek slid the half-conscious mage off her horse, then assisted her to stagger inside, and laid her down on the bedding. With a bit of awkwardness at the unaccustomed tasks, he got the horses bedded down in a shed at the side of the little building.

By the time he'd finished, Kethry was sound asleep in her bedroll, and Tarma was crawling into her own. "Can't ... keep my eyes open ..." she apologized.

"Then don't try, I can do what's left." I think, he added mentally.

But his trail skills had improved; he managed to get a fire going in the firepit, thought about making supper, and decided against it, opting for some dried beef and trail biscuit instead. With the fire dimly illuminating their shelter, he made a quick inspection of the place, thinking: It would he my luck to come upon a nest of hibernating snakes.

But he round nothing untoward; in fact, it was a very well built shelter, with stone walls, a clean dirt floor, and a thatched roof. It was a pity it didn't have a real fireplace -- a good half of the smoke from the fire was not finding the smokehole in the center of the roof, and his eyes were watering a bit -- but it was clean, and dry, and now growing warm from the fire.

He watched the moving shadows cast by the fire onto the wall, chewed the leathery strip of jerky, and tried to sort himself out.

Warrl came in once to tell him that he'd hunted and eaten, and was going to stand guard outside; after that, he was alone.

What kind of a fool have I shown myself to he? he thought, still confused by the events of the last few hours. Did anyone even notice?

He watched Kethry as she slept, feeling both pleasure and pain in the watching. How much did Tarma see? Gods above, I'm afraid. I've gone and fallen in love, like a greensick fool. At my age I should bloody well know better.

Still -- given the state they'd all been in --

Tarma probably hadn't been in a condition to notice much of anything except her oathsister's plight.

And I would give a great deal to know how she managed to bring Kethry back from Death's own arms. Because she's as much as admitted it was all her doing. And I can only wonder what it cost her besides strength and energy -- maybe that's why she didn't want to talk about it. Still and all, she really isn't acting as if it cost her nearly as much as if whatever had happened shook her down to her soul. I think perhaps she learned something she didn't expect to. Whatever it was -- I think perhaps the outcome is going to be a good one. She almost seems warmer somehow. More open. Would she ever have put all her safety and Keth's in my hands before? I-I don't think so.

He stretched, taking pleasure in the feel of joints that weren't popping, and bones that didn't creak. He was sore from the unaccustomed work, but not unbearably so.

Although -- Lady of Light, I've been working like a porter all afternoon, and not had so much as a twinge in the old bones! Now was that just because I was keyed up, or was it something else? Well, I'll know tomorrow. If I ache from head to toe, I'll know I was not privileged to be the recipient of a miracle!

And meanwhile -- the fire needs feeding.

So he watched Kethry, huddled in his own blankets while he fed the fire, and waited for the morning.

* * *

Carter's Lane in the capital city of Petras was living up to its name, even this close to the time for the evening meal. The street was wide enough for four wagons moving two abreast in each direction, and all four lanes were occupied by various vehi-cles now. The steady rumbling of wheels on cobble-stones did not drown out the equally steady hum of voices coming from all sides. Carter's Lane boasted several popular taverns and drinkshops, not the least popular of which was the Pig and Potion. This establishment not only had an excellent cook and an admirable brewmaster, but in addition offered various forms of accommodation -- ranging from single cubbyholes (with bed) that rented by the hour, to rooms and suites of rooms available by the week or month.

It was from the window of one of the latter sorts of lodging that a most attractive young wench was leaning, her generous figure frequently taking the eyes of the cart drivers from their proper work. She was, in fact, the inadvertent cause of several tangles of traffic. She paid this no heed, no more than she did the equally persistent calls of admiration or inquiries as to her price. She was evidently watching for something -- or someone.

And to the great disappointment of her admirers, she finally spotted what she watching for.

"Arton!" the brown-haired, laughing-eyed wench called from her second-floor window. "I've waited days for you, you ungrateful beast!"

"Now, Janna -- " The scar-faced fighter who emerged rrom the crowd to stand on the narrow walkway beneath her looked to be fully capable of cutting his way out of any fracas -- except, perhaps, this one.

"Don't you 'now, Janna,' me, you brute!" She vanished from the window only to emerge from a door beside it. The door let onto a balcony and the balcony gave onto a set of stairs that ran down the outside of the inn. Janna clattered down these stairs as fast as her feet could take her. "You leave me here all alone, and you never come to see me, and you never send me word, and -- "

"Enough, enough!" the Warrior begged, much to the amusement of the patrons of the inn. "Janna, I've been busy."

"Oh, busy'. Indeed, I can guess how busy'." She confronted him with her eyes narrowed angrily, standing on the last two stairs so that her eyes were level with his. Her hands were on her hips, and she thrust her chin forward stubbornly, not at all ready to make peace.

"Give 'im a rest, lass," called another fighter lounging at an outside table, one wearing the same scarlet-and-gold livery as Arton. "King's nervy; keeps 'im on 'and most of tti' time. 'E 'as been busy."

"Oh, well then," the girl said, seeming a bit more mollified. "But you could have sent word."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" he grinned, with just a touch of arrogance. "And we ought to be making up for lost time, not wrangling in the street."

"Oh-Ofe!" She squealed in surprise as he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her up the stairs.

He pulled the door open; closed it behind him.

Silence.

One of the serving girls paused in her distribution of ale mugs, sighed, and made calf eyes at the closed door. "Such a man. Wisht I 'ad me one like him."

"Spring is aborning, and young love with it," intoned a street minstrel, hoping that the buxom server would take notice of him.

"Young lust, you mean, rhymester," laughed the second fighter. "Arton's no fool. That's a nice little piece he brought with him out of the country -- and cheap at the price of a room, a bit of feeding, and a few gewgaws. One of these days I may go see if she's got a sister who wants to leave the cowflops for the city."

"If you can get any girl to look at your ugly face," sneered a third.

The mutter of good-natured wrangling carried as far as the second-floor room, where the young fighter had collapsed into a chair, groaning. The room's furnishings were simple; a bed, a table, a wardrobe and three chairs.

And an enormous wolflike creature on the hearth.

"Warrior's Oath, Keth -- you might make yourself lighter next time!" the Warrior groaned. "My poor back!"

"If I'd known you were going to play border-bridegroom, I'd have helped you out, you idiot!" the brown-haired girl retorted, closing the shutters of the room's single window, then snatching a second chair and plopping down into it. "Tarma, where the hell have you been these past few days? A note of three words does not suffice to keep me from having nervous prostrations."

:I told you she was all right,: the kyree sniffed. :But you wouldn't believe me.:

"Warrl's right, Keth. I figured that he'd tell you if anything was wrong, so I wasn't going to jeopardize my chances by doing something marginally out of character. And I've been busy, as I said," Tarma replied, rubbing her eyes. "Damn, can't you do something about the way these spells of yours make my eyes itch?"

"Sorry; not even an Adept can manage that."

Tarma sighed. "Char has gotten the wind up about something -- maybe he's even getting some rumors about our work, who knows? Anyway, he's been keeping me with him day and night until I could find somebody he trusts as much as me to spell me out. How is the conspiracy business going?"

Kethry smiled, and ran her hands through her hair. "Better than we'd hoped, in a lot of ways. Jadrek will be giving me the signal as soon as he's done with his latest client, so why don't we save our news until we're ail together?"

"Fine by me; I don't suppose you've got anything to eat around here?"

"Why? Don't they feed you at the palace?"

"Having gotten leave to go, I wasn't about to stick around and maybe get called back just so I could feed my face," Tarma retorted.

Kethry raised one eyebrow. "Char's that nervy?"

Tarma spotted half a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese on the table behind Kethry and reached forward to seize both. "He's that nervy," she agreed, slicing bits off the cheese with her belt-knife and alternating those tidbits with hearty bites of bread. She would have said more, but a gentle tapping came from the wall. Kethry jumped up out of her chair and faced the wall, holding both palms at shoulder height and facing it. The wall itself blurred for a little, then the door that had been hidden by Kethry's illusion swam into view. Jadrek pushed it open and stepped into the room.

There had not been a door there when they'd taken these two rooms; Jadrek's suite opened only into the inn, and Kethry's had two doors, the exterior and one like Jadrek's, opening on the inn corridor. But what could be done by hands could also be done by magic, and within one day of Kethry's taking possession of this room, she had made, then concealed, the door in their common wall. It was a real door and not a magic portal, just in case Jadrek ever needed to make use of it when Kethry was not present, for Kethry had set the spell of concealment so that he controlled it on his side of the wall.

"And how does the Master Astrologer?" asked Tarma, genially.

"Better than when he was Master Archivist," Jadrek chuckled. "I think I shall have Stefan find a successor. Astrology is a more lucrative profession!"

"Why am I not surprised?" Tarma asked sardonically. "Gentle lies always cost more than the truth. I take it none of your 'clients' have recognized you?"

"It wouldn't be likely," he replied mildly, taking the third, unoccupied seat around the little table.

"Most of my 'clients' are merchants' wives. When would say °^ (^CT" ^ave seen a Court Archivist?"

"Or given your notable ability to fade into the background, noticed him if they'd seen him?" added Kethry "All right -- Tarma, love, you first."

"Right. Jadrek, I managed to deliver all but one of your messages; the one to Count Wulfres I left with Yindel. Wulfres wouldn't let me get near him; I can't say I blame him, since I have been building quite a formidable reputation as Char's chief bullyboy"

"Is that why he trusts you?" Kethry asked.

"Partially. Don't worry, though. That reputation is actually doing me more good than harm. If anyone notices when I take somebody aside for a little chat it doesn't do them any benefit to tell the King, because Char assumes I'm delivering threats!" She chuckle -- "Keth, that Adept we took out was the only oone he had. The rest of his mages are Master and Journeyman class. So don't worry about this disguise continuing to hold."

Kethry heaved a sigh of profound relief. "Thank the eP^ ^w tnat' ^nat ^ ^ave me ^^y- ^ow are you eet11^ on wlt^ Char? You said far better than we'd hoped -- "

"That's a good summation; he doesn't trust any or his native Guards, and he doesn't trust his nobles. That leaves him with me, a couple of other landless mercs» and a handful of outland emissaries. Since I'm trying to give an imitation of a freefighter with a veff^1" or civilization and a range of interests sliehtly beyond 'food, fornication and fighting,' he seems to be gravitating more and more toward me."

"And needless to say, you're encouraging him."

:I'd taught you well,: Warrl commented. :You encourage familiarity with the King while never going over tfw Iw-^ °f being social inferior. That takes a delicate toucn I had not suspect you had, mindmate.:

"Having you coaching me in my head hasn't hurt, Furball. Thanks to you, I've never once been even remotely disrespectful; been pounding heads when some of the Guards go over the line, in fact. And as a result Char's slowly taking me as cup-companion as well as bodyguard."

"That's certainly far better than we hoped!" Jadrek exclaimed.

"Tarma, what about Idra?" Kethry asked, both elbows on the table, chin in her hands. She looked unwontedly sober.

Tarma sighed, and rubbed one temple. "Keth, we both know by now she's got to be dead."

Kethry nodded, reluctantly, as Jadrek bit his lip. "I just didn't want to be the one to say it," she replied sadly. "Need's pull just hasn't been strong enough for her to have still been alive."

:I, too, have suspected the same.:

Tarma sighed. "I think I realized it -- I mean, really believed it -- a couple of days after -- " She stopped for a moment, and looked squarely at Jadrek. He's an outClansman -- she thought, weighing him in her mind. -- but -- why not? No reason why he shouldn't know; if Keth has her way, he won't be an outClansman for long. " -- after I called one of the Ushya'e and got the Star-Eyed Warrior instead, that night in Valdemar. You know, the evening when Roald and I came back as best of friends? He saw Her, too -- and She made it clear to both of us that we were all on the same side. D'you remember how She turned the set of his Whites I was wearing black?"

Kethry nodded slowly, then real enlightenment dawned. "Black ... is for vengeance and blood feud...."

"Right," Tarma nodded. "She could have left my clothing alone; She could have changed it to brown, if She was truly offended at me being out of Kal'enedral colors, which I think is rather unlikely. She doesn't get that petty. But She didn't leave the Whites white -- and She'd already convinced me that Roald and Stefansen were on the side of the righteous. She can be very subtle when She chooses, and She was trying to give me a subtle message, that I was back on blood-trail. So who would be the logical one for me to avenge -- and who would be the logical target for vengeance?"

"Idra -- and Char."

"Right and right again. My only questions now are -- was it accident or premeditated, and how he did it." She tightened her jaw, and felt very nearly murderous at that moment. "And the closer I get to him, the likelier I am to find the answers to both."

She let the sentence hang for a long moment, then coughed slightly. "Jadrek? Your turn."

"I've been approached by three of those nobles you contacted for me, via their wives," he said, visibly shaken by Tarma's assertions -- and yet, unsurprised by them, as if her words had only confirmed something he had known, but had not wished to acknowledge that he knew. "They were already planning some sort of action on their own, which, given their temperaments, was something I had thought fairly likely. In addition, I have been approached by those I did not expect -- prelates of no less than five separate orders. It seems they had already spoken quietly with my chosen highborn -- "

"And went on to you. Logical." Tarma nodded thoughtfully. "And what prompted their dissatisfaction?"

"Oh, a variety of causes -- from the altruistic to the realistic." He wrinkled his brow in thought. "Mind you, I don't personally know as much about the clergy as I do the Court, but they seem to be appropriate responses given the personalities of those I spoke with and the philosophies of their orders."

"Huh. When we start to get clergy on our side...."

Tarma propped her feet up on the table, ignoring Kethry's frown of disapproval, and sat in thoughtful silence for a long time. "All right," she said, when the silence had begun to seem unbreakable, "It's time for some hard choices, friends. We're getting the support, and not only are we moving a bit ahead of schedule, but we're getting some unexpected help. So which of the plans are we going to follow?"

She tilted her head at Jadrek, who pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'd rather not run a full-scale uprising, frankly," he said. "It's too unwieldy for this situation, I think; your commanders really have to be in the field for it to succeed. Tarma, you are the most militant of us, and we need you here -- so that would leave me or Kethry."

"Not me," Kethry objected. "Fighters don't like following a mage, and I don't blame them. I'm no strategist, either."

"And I am neither fighter nor strategist," Jadrek replied.

"Stalemate," Tarma observed, flexing her shoulders to try and relax the tense muscles there. "Not that I don't agree with you both. Warrl?"

:I, also. It is too easy to lose a civil war.:

"All right, we're agreed that rousing the country-side is out, then?"

The other two nodded, slowly.

"Assassination."

:That, I favor,: Warrl replied, raising his head from his paws. :lt would be an easy thing for me. Wait until he is in the garden with a wench -- over the wall-: He snapped his jaws together suggestively. :lt would give me great pleasure, and I could easily be gone before alarm could be effective.:

"Not clear-cut enough," Jadrek asserted. "There will always be those wanting to make a martyr out of Char. It's amazing how saintly a tyrant becomes after he's dead. We want Stefan firmly on the throne, or this country will be having as many problems as it already has, just different ones."

Warrl sighed, and put his head back down.

"Sorry, mindmate -- I sympathize. That leaves the small-scale uprising; here, in the city. Can we pull that off?"

"Maybe. By Midsummer we'll have the working people solidly behind us; those that aren't losing half their incomes to Char's taxes are losing half their incomes because the others have less to spend," Kethry said, nibbling at her thumbnail. "What I've been working with are the merchants, and they are vastly discontent with the way things are going. If there's an uprising, they will be on our side of the riot. The problem is that these are not people used to righting."

"Maybe not, but I'll bet most of them have a few hired fighters each, either as guards for themselves, or for their goods," Tarma pointed out. "If there were some way that we could promise that their property would stay safe, I'll bet they'd turn those fighters over to us for -- say -- two days. Assuming that they are professional enough to fight together as a force instead of a gaggle of individuals."

"I'll work on that." Kethry replied.

"I suspect we'll have most of the clergy, too, by Midsummer," Jadrek offered. "And for many of the same reasons. And I know of at least two militant orders within the city walls. Those Warriors will fight as a single unit."

"Good. What about the highborn? Don't they have retinues?"

Jadrek shook his head with regret. "No, not inside the city walls. That was one of Destillion's edicts; no noble can have more than four armed retainers when at Court. And you know the size of Char's guard force."

"He's got a small army, not even counting his personal guard," Tarma agreed ruefully. "Still -- maybe I can come up with a notion. I might be able to work a bit of subversion in Char's forces, who knows? Let's stick with the local uprising plan. I think we're all agreed it's got the best chance of success."

She swung her feet down off the table, and noticed with surprise that the light coming through the closed shutters was red. "Damn! Sunset already? I've got to be getting back. Char's got another drunken orgy he's holding tonight, and wants his back safe."

Kethry mussed herself artistically, pulling one sleeve of her blouse so far down that a generous portion of breast was exposed. She stood up at the same moment as Tarma, followed her to the door, and let her out. For the benefit of anyone watching, they gave a well-acted imitation of a passionate farewell.

When Kethry finished locking the door behind Tarma, she turned to see that Jadrek was still sitting at the table, looking broodingly at a stain in the wood. She was not at all unhappy about that, because she had just about decided that certain other things were going to have to come to a head -- one way or another.

"Still worried?" she asked, returning to her seat, and reaching out to touch her index finger to the wick of the candle standing in the middle of the table. It promptly ignited.

Jadrek had looked up as she had taken her chair, and watched her light the candle with rapt fascination. "I never get tired of seeing you do things like that," he said. "It's just -- so -- magical."

She laughed, and dispelled the illusion on herself. He relaxed visibly.

She raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged.

"I like you better this way," he confessed shyly. "The other -- seems harder, somehow."

"Oh, she is; she's taking Arton for everything she can get," Kethry replied.

"To answer your question -- yes, I'm still worried. But I also know that all three of us are doing the best that we can, so worrying isn't going to make a great deal of difference, one way or the other." He stood up, with visible reluctance. "I probably should leave you...."

"Why?" Kethry asked, frankly. "Are you expecting anyone tonight?"

"Well, no, but -- "

"Neither am I." She glanced at Warrl, who took the hint, padding through the still-open door between their rooms, shutting it behind him with a casual kick. Kethry moved closer to Jadrek before he could move away, not touching him but standing so near that their faces were within inches of each other.

"Jadrek, I want you to know that I find you very, very attractive."

His eyes registered his complete surprise as she deliberately held his gaze. "I also want you to know that I am not a virgin, and I'm perfectly capable of dealing with attentions that I don't welcome. You," she finished, "do not come under that category."

"I-you never stop surprising me. I hardly know what to say...."

"Then don't say, do. Unless you don't find me attractive -- "

Slowly he lifted one hand, and cupped it against her face. "Kethry -- " he breathed, "Kethry, I find you very attractive. Almost unbearably attractive. But I'm not a young man -- "

She echoed his gesture, his cheek warm beneath her hand. "If I wanted a young man, there's a tavern full downstairs. It's you I admire, Jadrek; the mind, the person. You're something special -- something those pretty bodies downstairs aren't, and probably never will be."

Very hesitantly, he leaned forward and kissed her. She returned the kiss as passionately as she dared, and suddenly he responded by embracing her and prolonging the kiss until she was breathless.

When they broke apart, his gray eyes were dark with confusion. "Kethry -- "

"There are more comfortable places to be doing this," she said, very softly. "Over there, for one." She nodded at the curtained bed, half-hidden in the shadows.

He blushed. He blushed even harder when she led him there by the hand, and all but pushed him down onto it. "I -- " he stammered, looking past her, "Kethry, I'm not -- very experienced at this sort of -- "

"You were doing just fine a moment ago," she interrupted him gently, then prevented further protests by embracing him and resuming the kiss where it had been left off.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind all in an instant, and returned her embrace with a fervor that at least equaled her own. He pulled her down beside him; she did not resist in the least, that being exactly what she wanted from him.

For a very long time, all they did was kiss and exchange halting, hesitant caresses, almost like a pair of naive youngsters. But when she returned every tenderness with more of the same, he grew braver, daring to undo the lacings of her dress, daring to touch her with fingers that slowly grew bolder.

He frequently stopped what he was doing for long moments, just to look at her, his eyes full of wonder, as if this was something more magical for him than all the exercising of her powers as a sorceress. As if he couldn't believe that she was returning touch for touch and emotion for emotion. When he did that, she had to fight to keep back the tears of sympathy -- the only way she could was to keep a little corner of her mind free to concentrate on the hatred she felt for the women who must have treated him with coldness or indifference, so that this experience was such an unexpected revelation for him.

He stroked her with hands so gentle that she could hardly credit it. He was by no means the best lover she'd ever had; he was, perhaps, a little clumsy, and as he had confessed, not at all practiced -- but his gentleness made up for that, and more.

And besides, she rather figured that she had experience enough for both of them.

When they finally joined together, it was like nothing she'd ever dreamed of, for her heart was as involved in the act as her body.

"Kethry -- " he whispered hoarsely as he started to sit up -- whispering into the darkness, for the candle had long since burned out. She could hear the beginnings of an apology in his voice, and interrupted him.

"Don't you dare," she replied, reaching up for him and pulling him toward her so that his head rested on her shoulder. "Don't you dare spoil this with any of your nonsense about being old!"

"Then I -- didn't make a fool of myself?" he asked shyly. "You don't want me to go?"

"You weren't making a fool of yourself any more than I was," she told him. "If showing how you feel is so very foolish. I don't think it is. And no, please, don't go. I want you to stay. I've had my fill of nights spent alone."

He sighed, and relaxed into her arms. "Kethry -- I care for you, maybe more than I should."

She reached into the darkness, and brushed strands of damp hair from his forehead. "Don't think you're alone in caring more than you should." She let him take that in for a moment, then laughed, softly. "Or did you think I was only after you for your book collection?"

"Gods -- Keth -- " He who was usually so glib was once again at a loss for words, then he joined in her laughter. "No -- I didn't; Tarma, on the other hand -- "

They held each other for another long moment,until he spoke again. "Kethry, what we've got ahead"

" -- makes promises foolish," she interrupted him. "We've already made all the promises either of us dare to for now. Let's just enjoy what times we have, and worry about staying alive, shall we?"

"That's probably wise," he replied, with a reluctance that made her heart race.

He raised himself on his elbow for a moment, and cupped her face in both hands, and kissed her -- kissed her in a way that made his words about not making promises a lie.

And eventually he fell asleep with his head cradled on her shoulder.

Kethry held him, her heart full of song.

Oh Windbom, this is the one, she thought, before she joined him in slumber. He's -- he's like something I've always missed, and never known I missed it until now. But now -- I could never be content with anyone but him.

Not ever again.