The Lesser Kindred

XI The Wind of Change Blows Icy Cold

We had stopped for the night, a single day out from Kaibar.

We had left our own horses with the Silent Service in Kaibar the night before. In exchange, we might keep the Post horses we rode when our race was over. The Service did well out of the deal, for of course our mounts were of Hadron's stock. Still, it was worth it for the speed. Jamie wouldn't sell Blaze, so he arranged to collect him next time he passed.

The Healer of the Silent Service had been a very kind woman, who had said little but whose gentle touch made her work all the more effective. I felt a little better, but I was beginning to realise that each time someone worked on me the effect was less, as if my body were telling me that there was only so much to be done. I tried not to think about it, and even succeeded for much of that day.

Travelling by Post is astounding. It was hard at first: no one with sense would ever ride a horse that hard, but you never stay on one horse for long. Jamie and I laughed the first time we changed horses, because two of four new mounts were beasts we had sold only a few years ago. Seems Hadron's horses were highly valued by the Silent Service. Jamie muttered something about doubling the price and Rella laughed. "We must have a talk about that sometime in the next few days," she said, "but not right now. Mount up." At the next change we recognised a big gelding we'd sold at Mara just that autumn past. He remembered us, too, and nuzzled at Jamie. We all felt the better for that.

In any case, once we had crossed the Kai—on a dark vessel that made almost no sound—we began our ride on the Post horses and covered huge amounts of distance that night, stopping only to sleep for a few hours in some inn somewhere. I was all but asleep in the saddle and barely managed to stagger into the room we were sent to before I fell across the nearest bed and asleep. Varien must have had to shift me to get in. When we woke it was daylight, all four of us were in the one room, and Rella was up and dressed and in deep conversation with a man at the door. When she closed it she turned to face us gravely and said, "The word from Marik's Healers has come and gone this last hour. They know it was you needing help in the Three Kings, girl, but they don't know where you've gone. Last seen in Kaibar. The farther we get the better."

"Lady, will they not assume that we seek the more powerful healers in Verfaren?" asked Varien. He had hardly spoken all day. "It must be known that Lanen is unwell."

"I'm counting on the speed we left at to save us," Rella replied, throwing her few belongings back into her pack. "We recognised Marik's Healer, we knew he'd report, and we took off. The last place they are going to look for us is in the South Kingdom, where Marik is."

We stared at Rella, unconvinced. She looked up.

"That's the idea, at any rate. Any of you have a better one?"

"Not really," I said, wincing. The pain was coming back, and the voices were loud that morning, and my back was killing me. "If we're going to Verfaren, let's go. At least there I can get some decent healing before they kill me."

Rella seemed to find that funny.

I didn't. But she didn't know—I didn't tell her, or anyone else, but I had started bleeding again. My lower back never stopped aching now, and the riding was making it worse. I wasn't keeping much food down either. I felt miserable and I was deeply grateful that the furious riding left us very little opportunity to speak to oneanother.

The most peculiar part about that mad dash was how my mind kept returning to my mother, of all things. I found myself wanting desperately to speak with Jamie about Maran Vena, to hear anything he could tell me about her. In fact what I really wanted was to talk to her, face-to-face—though I would have preferred a good shouting match. I had been angry at her most of my childhood and I thought I had grown past that years ago, but here was that same anger back again, formless yet full-blown in its strength. I was even angry at Hadron for being so cold and heartless to me all those years. How stupid! Hadron was dead these six moons, and I had learned from Jamie in the autumn that he had known from my birth that he was not my father, that I was nothing to him, and that he had kept me at Hadronsstead only in memory of Maran—the only woman he had ever loved. Still, the heart does not always make allowances for others, especially in such circumstances.

The worst part of that time, however, arose from my own soul with no reference to any other. I am deeply ashamed to admit it, but in the secret depths of my heart I was furious with the child that grew within me. I know it sounds unnatural and I would deny it if I could, but it happened. The simple truth is that I had been told that it could not survive its own birth and I was angry at it for taking me with it. Despite that day in Kaibar when Varien and I had played at becoming parents, I knew that my life was more than likely to end suddenly and badly, when I had only just begun to live. I was very glad that our speed did not allow us to speak much to one another, and I closed my thoughts to Varien as best I could.

We rode through the day nearly without stopping, pushing the horses and ourselves, changing about every twenty or twenty-five miles. The poor beasts would be useless for several days after, but they were all young and fit and it wouldn't really hurt them. And we had travelled well over a hundred miles in a day, with six changes of mount. It was astounding.

At this rate we would be in Verfaren in another day.

I can hear what you are thinking, those of you who have borne children. How could you do that? Didn't it hurt like fury? Yes, it did. Didn't the riding make the pain worse? Yes, of course. But what would you? I was being forced to ride like the very wind towards the one place in all of Kolmar that I should have been avoiding, for the sake of saving my life. The demons were piping loud and clear and I was dancing like there was no tomorrow, for that was indeed like to be the case.

We stopped just to the north of Elimar, the capital of the South Kingdom. Rella again selected the inn. It was expensive, but it was clean and the food was good enough. She disappeared soon after we arrived, only to return in time for the evening meal. "I've arranged for a really fine Healer to come along to see you, my girl," she said, very pleased with herself. "But not until after we've eaten, so get down to it."

I was intensely relieved to hear that a Healer was coming, but I couldn't eat a thing. I had gone to change my cloth when we arrived and found that I had to change all my un-derthings. Even I knew that there was far too much blood. The possibility mat I might die from this was beginning to become very real. I had been trying to blank out the pain but it was now affecting my every movement, and I was starting to feel light-headed from the loss of blood. I started to thank Kella for her kindness when Jamie interrupted me. He had been brooding and growly ever since we'd left Kaibar and he wouldn't tell me what was bothering him. From the storm on his brow I suspected we were all about to find out.

"That's enough!" he said sharply, keeping his voice as quiet as he could with that much anger behind it. I knew it was coming but I still jumped. "Why, Mistress Rella?"

"Why what?" she asked, tearing a chunk off the loaf on the table. "Damn, I'm hungry. Pass the butter, will you, Lanen?"

"Why all of it?" said Jamie, staring at Rella. "Finding Healers, arranging Post horses—I can't believe it's all part of your work."

Rella looked at him, a bit confused. She wasn't the only one. "Why question a gift from the Lady?" she said calmly. "You know I'm on duty."

Jamie sliced the air with one hand. "Ridiculous!" he snarled. "No one could pay the Service enough to get us all on Post horses, not even Maran."

"What!"

The exclamation was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Too late now to call it back and just listen. Ah, well. I tried to ignore the heads that had turned in my direction—I suppose it was a loud shout, at that—and spoke more quietly. "What do you mean, not even Maran? What does my mother have to do with anything?" I asked. I was much taken aback for, as I have said, Maran had been on my mind all the day long.

Rella was frowning and shaking her head at Jamie, but he faced me and said harshly, "Rella's working for her. She's been in Maran's pay since she joined the Harvest ship with you in the autumn. Since you first met her. Didn't you know?"

"What? No! I thought—Rella, you said the Silent Service wanted Marik, you never—I mean, you said you knew Maran—oh hell," I snarled. "Hells' bells and bloody damnation, Jamie," I said, feeling stupid and angry and betrayed. "I've been an idiot again, haven't I?"

"I suspect we all have, my girl," said Jamie, "but I don't intend to continue in ignorance." He rounded on Rella. "Well?"

She had carried on eating, stopping only long enough to say in her normal tones, "I'm not going to say a word until I've eaten and Lanen has seen a Healer. Then you can ask me anything you want. Right now, leave me be. I'm hungry."

We had no choice. We were all subdued and ate quickly. I never tasted the little food I managed to eat, but I was feeling awful anyway and didn't eat much in case it came back up. Soon enough we all retired to an upstairs room, where we found the four small beds taking up nearly every bit of floor space. There was barely room to squeeze around them to get inside the door.

I crawled into the first bed I could reach. I was feeling worse by the moment, as the agitation of all that riding caught up with me. However, once we were in and the door closed Jamie turned to Rella with a grim frown and a nasty expression on his face, and I had something else to think about.

"Very well, Mistress Rella," he said. "Perhaps you will now deign to tell us what in all the Hells is going on?"

"You make everything such hard work, Jamie," she said, shaking her head. "But you're losing your touch. Talking about such things in a common room! Honestly. You only had to ask."

"Lady Rella," said Varien gently, cutting off whatever Jamie was about to say, "of thy courtesy, surely the time hath come for truth between us?"

She was taken off guard by him. She knew who and what he was, but I think she forgot from time to time just what it meant to have lived for so very long. Now, with those deep green eyes fixed on hers, and that lovely voice speaking so kindly to her—well, "the eyes of a dragon are perilous deep," they say.

"Yes, my Lord Dragon, I suppose it has," she said with a sigh. She turned to me and smiled. "You are so much like her, you know. I've known Maran ever since she came back to Beskin, about a year and a half after you were born. She has been a good friend to me in my comings and goings for all that time, even knowing who I am and what I do. She is the best friend I have in the world, Lanen. When word reached me that she wanted to hire me to watch over you I was already in Illara, but I signed on that damned ship and went to what I thought would be my death because I had said I would look after you for her. My dearest friend's daughter. Yes, Jamie, she has paid me. Is paying me. Is paying the Silent Service. And no, there is no money in the world that could have got me on to that ship or arranged these Post horses for us all."

She threaded her way across the crowded little room to stand foursquare in front of Jamie and slapped him hard across the face.

"You bastard," she said, quietly but with a startling intensity. "How can you have travelled with me for so long and know me so little? Yes, I am a minor Master in the Silent Service and I may choose my own assignments. Yes, I have more leeway in the arrangements than most, and yes, I was going to ask for consideration from you and Lanen the next time the Service needs good horses. That does not mean that I do everything for pay, or that I seek to use or betray you. Any of you. I've cared about Lanen since I met her, despite all the rules about these things, and I know how sick she is even if you don't care to. I have arranged this swift transport and a good Healer's visit for her because I give a damn what happens to her, as Maran's daughter and in her own right." You could cut the fury in her voice with a knife. "And fool that I am, I was starting to give a damn about you, Jameth of Arinoc. Get to the Hells and close the gates behind you."

She stumbled across to the door and turned to me. I knew that "I'd rather fry in the deepest hell than cry right now" look, so I didn't say anything. "I'll send the Healer up when he comes, girl. Don't expect me back here tonight." I nodded.

She slammed the door behind her.

Jamie had not said a single word. He stood openmouthed, his brown cheek showing a good strong pink stain where he'd been slapped. Quite right too, in my opinion.

"If you don't go after her, Jamie, I'm going to disown you," I said. He gaped at me. I glanced up to the ceiling and sent a swift prayer to the Lady for patience. "You idiot. She just said she loves you. Are you deaf?"

"What?" he said stupidly. "But she—she hit me, and, and she said—"

"Go. Now. Grovel, apologise, do what you have to, but go after her," I said. "For Shia's sake don't make me get out of this bed to push you, just go!" He left in a daze, drawing the door closed behind him.

I turned to Varien, who was standing there with his jaw dropping, much as Jamie had been. "Lanen? Whence came this—ah, I shall never understand!"

I grinned at him. "Gedri females?"

"Any females!" he replied smiling. "The females of the Kantri are every bit as confusing as you and Mistress Rella." He stroked my hair, growing more solemn. "However, my heart, what more deeply concerns me is why Jameth suddenly turned on a friend. I thought he admired the Lady Rella?"

"He does, my love. That's the problem. You don't know Jamie like I do," I said heavily, sitting back. All the excitement had brought back my headache, and everything below my waist hurt like every demon ever spawned had been punching me. "It was the Post horses—I asked Rella, and it really does cost a fortune to move this fast, and Jamie knows it better than I. I think he is starting to truly like her, but when it looked like she was being so kind he got suspicious. It's the way he thinks," I said apologetically. "Comes of not trusting people—no, it comes of not trusting women," I said. "He's never had much luck with women."

Varien frowned. "Another mystery. I have watched him, your heart's father. He is a man honourable and brave, skilled both in the art of the sword and in the deeper art of making the earth bring forth food. His heart is true, I would swear it. How should such a man not find a mate?"

I was feeling worse every moment we sat there, but I knew the Healer was coming and fought off the pain. "I suspect it's because he stayed in Hadronsstead with me," I said, glad of something to think of. "He's too much for any of the women around there, they expect a plain farmer and he isn't that at all."

Varien smiled into my eyes. "No, he is not," he said. "And you also are not a plain anything." He leaned over and kissed me, his hands warm and comforting on my back, his lips hard and passionate against mine. Lady knows I felt awful and the last thing I was thinking of was passion, but—well, as distractions go it was a fine one.

Especially when he continued in truespeech. That has never ceased to sway me to hjs will, the combination of simple physical passion and the wonder of that glorious voice echoing in the silence of my heart, that ancient mind blending with mine to make something new. "You are my beloved, my Lanen, the song of my soul made complete at last. When I thought I could never love you more, when I thought that already you possessed all there was in me to give, behold! I learn that you bear our child below your heart, and love beyond reason springs forth, young and wild, overflowing like a stream in the spring thaw and all, all thine, my Lanen, Lanen Kaelar, Kadreshi naVarien—"

Just as well the Healer came in then, I thought, despite the way I was feeling. I wondered briefly if Varien had done it on purpose. When I thought about it I realised that he most certainly had.

The Healer introduced himself as Jon and asked what troubled me as he summoned his power and sent it gently into my aching bones. I felt it this time, felt the cool blue strength of his work and welcomed the end of pain with a sob. Once the worst was past I could relax and let him work, but even after he finished he gazed long into my eyes, frowning. "Lady, you do know that this child is killing you?"

"Yes, I do. Can you do anything about it?" I asked. He sent his power into me once again and looked long and hard. He tried something, Goddess only knows what, but the moment he put forth any real power it was agony. I cried out from the pain and he stopped, apologising.

"Lady, I know not what to do," he said, sending power again to soothe the pain he had caused. He had a good, kind face, and it was full of sorrow. "There is only one Mage I know of who can help you—Magistra Erthik of Verfaren. She is wise and strong, and her greatest skill is in assisting with childbirth." He would have stopped, but his conscience made him go on. "Lady, I cry you mercy, but I must tell you. I have stopped the pain and the bleeding for now, but it will not last, especially if you insist on travelling. You—forgive me, I must prepare you." He was desperately distressed. He was also a very brave man. "You must realise how near to death you are, Lady. I can see your strength, but you must believe me. What I have done will keep you alive for a few days. If you insist on riding as you have this day, it might only keep you until this time tomorrow. You must stop and rest!"

I was sitting up. I felt a bit ill and very weary and fuzzy-headed, but surely he must be wrong. "I don't feel that dreadful, master," I said. "I cannot believe you. Of what should I die? I am strong, I've hardly had a sick day in my life. Why should this be so dangerous to me?"

"I fear it will come in the end to loss of blood, lady," he said. "The rejection must soon be complete. In a normal pregnancy your body would have miscarried long since, but this is not a normal pregnancy. There is a conflict between something in your blood and something in the blood of the child, and it is stopping the natural process that would protect you." He bowed. "I fear that only a Mage can help you now."

Varien stood beside me and his face was like carven stone. "Is there nothing that can be done?" he asked, his voice calm and quiet even then.

"Unless you find a Mage able to treat the very blood in her veins, then no, there is nothing to be done," said the Healer. "That kind of skill and power are rare indeed, if they exist at all, and where you would find them outside of Verfaren I could not say. And Verfaren is a full week's travel from here." He knelt before me, his genuine concern writ large across his face. "Lady, let me send for help from Verfaren. If I keep working on you while the Magistra comes to us, then perhaps—"

"No," I said. I felt dizzy and confused, but I knew in my bones that I could not stay there and just wait.

"We will consider it, master," said Varien. "My lady wife is weary and needs rest."

The Healer rose to his feet and bowed. "Very well. I have done what I can for you but it will not last. Be warned, lady. You must know what will happen. The pain will return and it will increase. The bleeding will get worse. Your back and your head will ache unmercifully."

I nodded. "I expected as much," I said.

He spoke wearily now. "When you start to pass clots, lady, know that your end has come upon you. May the Lady keep you, for I can do no more."

"I thank you," I said. Varien paid him his fee and let him out.

I had held back the tears very well while the Healer was there, I thought, but I was shaking by the time Varien sat beside me on the bed, and when he put his arms around me I began sobbing in earnest.

For a time he simply held me and let me cry out my fear. However, when I had calmed down a bit, he sat back from me a little and took my hands in his.

"Dear one, forgive me," he said quietly, "I know how you feel but I must say this. What if he is right?"

"No!" I cried. "How can you say that? I am not going to die!"

"Everyone who has ever died has said the same," he replied. I was shocked at the calmness in his voice, but when I looked at him I saw the tears streaming down his face.

"Why should we not at least wait here, dearling? The Healer can wait upon you while Rella and Jamie fetch this Magistra Erthik here." He never took his eyes off me for a second. "And here at least you will be able to rest, to take your ease."

"While I wait for death?" I snarled. "No, I will not! If time is going to be my enemy, at least let me spend it getting as close to help as I can. The Post horses are fast, my love, Verfaren is but a day away at the speed they make."

He stood at his full height, I could almost see him draw the mantle of his years about him as protection as he gazed down at me. "Lanen, you are putting your life in danger. You must consider this again."

"Why?" I asked, growing angry. "I will not sit here and wait for death to take me!"

"And I cannot sit by and watch you die!" he shouted. "Lanen, I cannot bear this! How should I live if you were to die? Kadreshi, have mercy on me, I beg you." He knelt before me, his face twisted with grief. In that moment all his protection was gone, all his armour of centuries stripped away in the instant, leaving only a desperate man. "Lanen, do not leave me," he said, that glorious voice all broken with weeping. "I could not bear this life alone."

I took his face in my hands. "I am not going to die," I repeated.

"You cannot know that!" he cried, rising swiftly, angrily to his feet. "And yet you would put what time you have left at risk by riding like a madwoman. What if this Mage Erthik at Verfaren cannot help you? What then? Shall I hold you in my arms as you bleed to death?"

"Varien!" I was shocked.

"Well, what would you? You will not take counsel, you rush headlong into danger for no reason, you refuse to listen to a Healer who has offered to do all in his power to aid you. What is left for me to do but curse the child of our making, or wish we had never met?" He could barely contain his rage, he was shaking with it. "I have kept silent, Lanen, for you did not need to concern yourself with it, but it has been terrible for me to know you in such pain for so long." He stood before me and his eyes locked, blazing, on mine. "Do you forget, Lanen Kaelar, that I hear your every thought? You have not been careful to shield of late. Every jolt, every gasp, every drop of blood and every shooting pain that you have known has shaken me also this last moon."

His truespeech was like a sword in my mind. That did it.

"Damn you, Varien," I cried. "What, think you I did that on purpose? I haven't bespoken you so that you wouldn't have to hear it or feel it. Maybe it's good that you have, after all, for the danger is of your making!"

His face had been flushed with anger before, but now he went pale. "What do you say?" he breathed.

"Never mind," I murmured. I was ashamed at having said as much as I had, even if I was dying. Especially if I was dying.

"Tell me, Lanen."

"No," I said. "Don't make me. It was—what did you call it? Those hidden thoughts?"

"Terishnakh," he said. "But the terishnakh are dismissed while still in the mind, they do not come to the lips. What do you mean that the danger is of my making?"

"Let it go!" I cried.

"What do you mean?" he said, taking me by the shoulders. I shook myself free.

"It's your child, that's what I mean!" I yelled, and I watched each word strike him like a blow. "It's the blood, yours and mine. Rishkaan was right, Akor!" I cried, and my voice was high and thin with rage and with fear. "We have made a monster between us, and it is going to kill me!"

Varien stared at me in horror as I fought to take a deep breath, but I was overcome and with that breath I screamed with all my might, straight from the gut. I had never screamed before. It was terrible and it was very loud. It frightened me and it terrified Akor, but at least it broke through the anger between us. He came to me and wrapped his arms about me and held on for dear life while I sobbed my heart out. His tears mingled with mine.

"I will fight for you, my Lanen." he told me brokenly in truespeech. He could barely speak even with the voice of his mind. "If Death dares come to claim you I will fight him, tooth and claw, unto the ending of my life. For how should I live without you in the world!"

"Forgive me, my heart, I never meant what I said. I've never been so scared in my life, I'm so frightened. I am not ready to die," I replied, holding him with all my strength.

We stood in that desperate embrace until, at last, we both grew weary beyond bearing. We lay down, still clasping one another so very close, until from sheer exhaustion I fell asleep in his arms.

We slowed when we came to the main corridor that we might not draw attention to ourselves. I collected my cloak and my walking stick as usual, nodding to the young student who was working off some minor misdemeanor by tending the dawn-to-noon shift of All Comers. He yelled to Vilkas and Aral to come talk to him about the tandem work, he had heard all about it and there were no patients, but they declined as they strode past.

We were out the front door, our main objective thus far, and suddenly my perceptions shifted. Outside seemed terribly exposed. We were not prepared, we had no money, no food, only the clothes on our backs and the stick in my hand.

I tried to hang back but Vilkas took my arm and pulled me along. He didn't even slow down. I was impressed, for we are of a height but I would make three of him around. We stepped into the courtyard—and there were three horses, saddled and bridled, a clear gift from the Lady. The groom who held them greeted me. "Will! You haven't seen Magis-ter Berys, have you?" he called out. "He sent for these horses an hour gone and he still hasn't come."

I began to hope. One little falsehood and we would be away, well mounted and far faster than feet could bear us. I was about to answer when Vil replied, speaking in a normal tone as we passed them, "Haven't seen him. Sorry."

He strode through the main gate, followed by Aral at his heels and me spluttering behind. Once we were out the gate and down the street I tried to stop and talk to Vil, but he still had his hand wrapped around my arm. He was a lot stronger than I'd have guessed, though I wasn't seriously trying to slop him. "We can talk as we go, Will, I don't want to stop for anyone or anything."

"Then why in Shia's name didn't we just take those horses?" I asked, angry. "A gift from the Lady, plain as plain, and you just walk past—"

"Too easy, Will!" he growled. "Too damned easy. An hour they'd been waiting. How long has it been since Berys left us, Aral?"

"About that."

"He's clever, Will. He's very, very clever, and unless I miss my guess he has had this or something like it planned for quite some time. Well, I'm not an idiot either. I think it's time we weren't quite so obvious." He called his power to him as we walked, and his corona covered us all three. I thought this would be much like trying to hide by carrying a flaming torch at midnight, but no one seemed to notice us.

I looked at him and spoke very quietly. "Vil, are we invisible? I didn't think that was possible."

"It isn't and we're not," he said, "but when we pass, we are the least noticeable thing in the world. Even a blade of grass holds more interest than we do. It should slow them down if no one has seen us."

I was impressed. He was good.

"We were meant to take those horses, Will. I know it. That would make it so much easier for him—plant something from Erthik or Caillin in a saddlebag, send a demon to track us, a charge of murder"—and for the first time since we had left his chambers, Vilkas faltered in his long stride and the slightest unevenness afflicted his voice, but he looked straight ahead. "Aral—Goddess, did you see her face? Poor Erthik. I cared about her. She believed in us, and I know as if I'd watched her die mat she fell fighting Berys himself."

I didn't question him. It could only have been the Archim-age. Both of the Magistri had died without a sound a few feet from us, and Erthik was—Erthik had been the most powerful Mage in the College after Berys.

After Berys.

Aral said nothing. I turned to look at her and was taken aback at how pale she was. For all that, though, her face was set in an implacable mask. Aral has always been a creature of deep emotions. She had not known Erthik very well, but I had seen the two of mem together on several occasions, and I had seen a true friendship growing there. Erthik had been delighted by their tandem work and had hoped to get them to teach it to others. Now delight, hope, friendship, all, lay dead in a heap outside Vilkas's rooms. I held back the bile that burned the back of my throat.

We walked on like frightened cats, quickly, every nerve quivering, studiously ignoring the fact that we expected a demon attack any moment. As we passed the last house on the outskirts of Verfaren, however, Aral stopped abruptly and spoke. Her voice was calm and even. She held her right hand up, palm outwards. "I do here speak and swear, my soul to the Lady's right hand, that I shall do all in my power as long as I live to defeat Berys of Verfaren, to oppose him and his works at every turn, and to destroy him should I ever have the chance."

"I do so swear, my soul to the Lady," said Vilkas without hesitation.

"That makes three of us," I said, swiftly. "Sworn and witnessed, our souls to the Goddess. Now can we get moving again please?"

We had turned left when we walked out of the East Gate of the College, so we were on the road going north. "Where are we headed, apart from away?" I asked.

"I'm open to suggestion," said Vil, striding at a great pace. He lifted one hand to waist level and pointed a skinny finger straight ahead. "That way?"

Aral had to do twice the work to keep up as her legs were so much shorter, but she seemed accustomed to it. "Known to some as north," she said. "It's a long way to anywhere in this direction, Vil." She gazed over her right shoulder, as if she could see through the little wood we were passing. "Home's that way," she said, longingly.

"Only your home, and it's hundreds of leagues that way. Be reasonable."

"You two don't remember much, do you?" I said, trying to keep my voice as even as Vilkas's. I couldn't stop seeing Erthik's face, her brown hair disarrayed—no, I couldn't think of that. "I live no more than a few days' walk from here." I glanced behind us. "It's even closer if you go crosscountry and stay off the roads."

They were both silent for a moment, though we never slackened our pace and Vilkas's corona still surrounded us. It didn't seem to tire him in the least. "You're in it deep enough as it is," said Vil at last. "You don't need to harbour two murderers. And Lady Shia alone knows who or what Berys will send out to find us and fetch us back."

"He'll start by sending some of the Magistri, and if they can't find us he'll hire mercenaries and pay them for our return dead or alive. That's what you do with murderers," growled Aral. "But my guess is that he'll send demons as soon as the uproar is over. Maybe tonight, maybe any minute now. He had those two he threw at us ready prepared, he must have done, or he'd have needed an altar. I'd guess he must have made some sort of amulet. The spell could take effect long after the summoning was completed, so there would be no evidence of who had done it."

"Keep your corona about you," said Vilkas. "If I were Berys I'd send a demon the instant I was able to, lest we have the chance to prepare our defence."

"No, really?" said Aral sarcastically. "You think so? I wondered why I kept glowing bright blue."

"And as for me, I was there and I saw it all," I said. "I'm your best defence, and I have no way to fight off demons on my own. Besides, if you two think I'm leaving you now you're dafter than I thought. No one knows you were with me at Midwinter Fest, do they?"

"No," replied Aral immediately. "I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want you being pestered. Or me. People get peculiar."

Vilkas took longer to consider, but "No," he said finally. "I remember I didn't want my whereabouts known."

"Hah!" said Aral, showing a glimmer of her usual self. "The Deep and Mysterious Great Mage Vilkas! I know why you never told anyone, it's that Palistra. The golden-haired green-eyed enchantress who's got every lad in the school at her feet except you." I'd never heard Aral so disgusted, "I'd have thought she'd be busy enough with that lot," said Vilkas, genuinely puzzled, and sounding deeply grateful for something trivial to think about. "I never gave her the slightest encouragement."

Aral managed a small laugh, which under the circumstances was impressive. "Ah, but that's the attraction Vil, don't you see?" she said, pleased despite our plight at being privy to something she knew well neither Vilkas nor I would ever truly comprehend. "I've seen you play Last Man Standing, you should understand the rules. It's the same principle. Without your favour on her sleeve she doesn't have the King. The greatest power to come through the College since Berys the Bastard, keeps to himself, polite but distant, probably doesn't have a lover so still fair game."

"Probably?"

"I can't help what other people think. I've never said word to help them," said Aral reasonably. "Didn't you realise that to Palistra's kind of mind you're completely irresistible?"

"Lady preserve me from that kind of mind, then," he said, shivering, adding a personal comment about Palistra that he would not be proud to have remembered, so I have forgotten it.

"Whatever the reason," I said, "no one knows you were with me then, so if fortune favours us no one will assume that you have come with me now. There's not a soul at Ver-faren knows where I live save you two. I say we make for Rowanbeck. My cabin isn't fortified but it is well hidden and a long way from the road."

"I went by the main road with you last time. Is that the fastest way to get there?" asked Aral.

I managed to smile. "Not even close. Do you know Wolfenden? It's a little town about ten miles north of here."

"I've been there a few times, but it's been a while," said Vilkas.

"It's at a crossroads—well, it's where the track joins the road, but it's well marked." I thought for a moment. "Best you should know the way in case we're separated. If you follow the track west into the hills and walk for about three days, you'll come to a great huge green field high in the hills. It sits in a circle of rock walls, you can't see it until you're there. You might have a bit of trouble finding the way in, but now you know it's there you'll find it. Once you're inside you'll be hidden from view. There's a little wood at the western end, and if you go through the wood you'll find the path down the far side. Half a day's walk from there is my village of Rowanbeck. You know how to get to the cabin from there, don't you?"

"I remember," said Vilkas. "But this is all pointless. What good will it do to hide in the mountains?"

"It's a useful place to be if no one expects you to be there," I said. "At least you'll have somewhere safe to make your plans."

"Sounds good enough to me," said Aral wearily.

"I suppose we might as well be there as anywhere," said Vilkas with a bitter edge to his voice. "We've got nothing better to do." It took me a moment to remember that all that had happened would have an extra dimension for the two of them, beyond even the shock of seeing a friend murdered. No Healer above the third rank could ever be taken seriously without the official seal of the College on his warrant to practice. Vilkas and Aral's futures had come tumbling about their ears this day, all in a matter of hours.

"It's settled then. But before we take off into the mountains we need to get hold of some food. The Dragon's Head at Wolfenden, at the crossroads: the food's good there, certain sure. That's where we take the road northwest into the hills. We should get there by sunset, and Gair's a good lad, he'll take care of us." The others looked at me strangely. "Gair, the innkeeper. The Dragon's Head. He's a friend of mine. Good lad he is."

"Then you at least should not be seen," said Vilkas.

"What?" I said stupidly. "But Gair is a friend of mine, and—he—I don't understand."

"Will?" said Vilkas, staring at me. I didn't answer. Suddenly everything was terribly confusing. Vilkas stopped then, drawing me into the shelter of a small copse of trees off the main road. Aral came behind me, her hand on my arm. I didn't mind that at all. Vilkas looked brighter all of a sudden, and he and Aral were talking, but I couldn't really hear what they were saying. Suddenly I had to sit down for a moment and I seemed to hit the ground right hard with my backside.

The next thing I knew I was sitting with my back against a tree and Vilkas was looking at me like I was a stranger—he wasn't catching my eye at all, just staring in my general direction and moving his hands. I felt oddly as if I was asleep, or had been asleep and was only just awakening, as if—

"Vilkas?" I said, but there was something wrong with my voice. It seemed to be coming from a very long way away. "Aral? Is this a dream?"

Then Aral was there, putting her arm about me, telling me to be quiet for a moment. She was that close I could smell her, smell the summer-flower scent of her. Dear Lady, so near! I sighed before I could stop myself. "Are you in pain?" she asked me gently, and I was in such a state I nearly told her everything, that the only pain I had was knowing she did not love me, but blessed be the Lady, Vilkas's healing finally took hold. I felt terribly, terribly drunk for just a moment, then it passed and I scrambled to my feet.

"What in all the Hells—" I began. Vil put a hand on my shoulder.

"Shock," he said, "nothing more sinister. Aral and I have been protecting ourselves with our power, it's almost instinctive, but we never thought of you. I'm sorry," he said solemnly. I glanced up and caught his eye. He really was deeply ashamed of himself for neglecting me, the poor lad.

"Well, I should think so," I said gruffly. Vilkas apologising was a new experience. "You didn't have anything else to think about, after all. But as for the Dragon's Head, I don't know how I'm going to keep Gair from seeing me. We're going to need food and a place to sleep tonight. The inn's about three hours' walk from here and you may believe me that there is nowhere else on this road."

Vilkas got as far as "It might serve, but I have two concerns."

I was ready to hear them, but the demons attacked just then and I never did.

Kedra insisted that I should get some sleep when we had finally sealed all the soulgems in their containers. I had thought I would never sleep again, but I closed my eyes for a mere moment and woke much refreshed later. Kedra was gone, leaving a scrawled "with Mirazhe" in the earth of my chamber. He had built up the fire again before he left.

I carried the sealed globes containing the soulgems out into the clearing before my chambers, that I might fetch them more easily when the time came—and truth be told, that I might not have to see the Chamber of Souls again, stripped of all that had given it meaning, the empty settings gaping in darkness.

When I first emerged I had found to my amazement that it was very nearly light. The morning was cold and crisp, and by the time I had carried out the last of the containers it was surprisingly bright for so early in the year. Almost I resented such a contrast to the darkness in my heart, and yet—and yet, it was good. If we must make a new beginning, this was a good day to do it.

I set out.

The Summer Field, badly misnamed on this morning of late frost, was full of the Kantri, complaining, confused and annoyed. I noticed to my sorrow that we all fit comfortably there, in a single field. I began to wonder if we might have a fate before us that nothing could turn. Perhaps the time of the Kantri in the world was come to its end and I was fated to see it....

I shook myself and remembered the words I had so often spoken to my soulfriend Akhor in his youth. Anyone can give up, Akhor. It is as easy as death. But both death and defeat will find us all soon enough. Fight while you can with all your strength, and choose life over death as long as you are able.

It is simple enough to say such words. It is much harder to act upon them. Still, they served their purpose, for the memory of having said them to Akhor forced me to live up to mem.

I was preparing to speak when Kedra landed beside me. "Good morrow, Father," he said cheerfully. "How fare you this morning?"

"Well enough, my son. The sealed casks await those who will carry them. All is prepared."

"Mirazhe and I have been thinking of our new life in Kol-mar, that we will share with the Gedri," said Kedra, smiling. "I am looking forward to it, but it occurred to Mirazhe last night that it might be a good idea to bring with us gifts to ease the sudden arrival of so many of us."

"She is wise, your good lady," I said. "That was well thought. What sort of gifts?" I asked. I had much to say to the Kantri, but I was waiting now for Idai. "What could we possible take that the Gedri would—want—" Even as I spoke I realised what he meant. "Kidra!"

He laughed. "Yes, my father. Hlansif trees! We can bring seeds, seedlings, even a full-grown tree or two, and see which survives. I suspect we would then be made most welcome."

"I suspect you are right. To save the Gedri that dangerous voyage—" And suddenly I caught myself. There would be no more wild journeys across perilous seas. Had Kedra and Mirazhe not thought of it, there would have been no more hlansif trees in all the world. The Gedri camp, the boundary fence, the Summer Field, our Great Hall, would not be left behind. They would be gone—gone—all burned, all buried under rock, or else drowned deep in ocean for all time. Somehow it all became real to me in that moment.

This was the ending of my world.

I closed my eyes. Ah, but my heart was leaden with sorrow!

"Father?" came Kedra's voice. Quiet, worried, a little fearful.

I could not leave him to do all by himself. There would be a time to mourn when all were safe and far, far away.

I forced myself to smile at my dear son. "We will have to plant a grove of our own and tend it, that we may use the leaves in trade." I smiled at him. "It is very well thought, but we must ask if any of the others are willing to carry such things. You and Mirazhe will be full burdened with Sherok, and I carry the soulgems of the Lost."

Just then a dark shape appeared above—Idai, apologising as she arrived.

She backwinged and landed beside me. "Good morrow, my friend," she said, when with no warning it struck.

The high-pitched shriek, that these days was never silent, suddenly increased until it was acutely painful, and as a counterpoint there came the deep drawn-out rumble that shakes both body and mind, and the ground beneath our feet began to sway violently.Those who had been balancing on tail and back legs, as I had been, fell over. It was the worst earthshake I had ever been through. It is difficult to explain how confusing it was. That dreadful high shriek had been scraping my nerves raw for days, and then the very earth I was standing on moved like a treacherous sideslip in the air. Trees at the edge of the field toppled over with a great tearing and crashing, I was assaulted on all sides by sound and movement and / kept looking for the ground. All my instincts told me that the ground does not move, but what I was standing on was moving and so could not be the ground. I was looking for the solid place and it did not exist. It was terrible.

It felt like ages, but Idai, who had managed to get airborne, told me that it did not in truth last very long. For that I was profoundly grateful. Many, including my son and his family, managed to get aloft with Idai and avoid the worst of it, but those of us on the ground had scrapes and bruises to show for our slow reactions. I would have appreciated time to get over it but I was more than ever convinced that we had no more time.

I called out in truespeech, asking if any were injured or in need of assistance. There was no response, but a dreadful thought occurred to me in the silence that followed my asking.

Until that moment I had forgotten about Urishhak and Roccelis. They were old friends, both afflicted by the joint ill, who had lived for the last kell or so together in a large cave on the north side of the island. I had been in the way of visiting them at one time, for I enjoyed their company, but it had been many years. I bespoke them both, calling with all my strength, but there was no answer.

I called out aloud, "Toklurik, I pray you, attend me here."

He landed before me and bowed. "Eldest? What can I do?"

"T6k, forgive me—you are kin to Roccelis, I believe?"

"Yes, she is my mother's sister, I—name of the Winds!" He crouched to take off, but I restrained him. "Wait! I know you would seek her out, but first tell me—does she keep the Weh?"

"Her last Weh sleep ended scarce ten winters past," he said, distracted. I knew he was calling his aunt, and from the distress in his eyes I knew he was hearing no more than I had.

"Be at peace, Toklurik," I said quietly. "The Lady Urishhak does not answer either and she is the last of her line. There are none even to be concerned about her."

"I must find out if Roccelis lives," he cried. "She might be injured, helpless—I must go to her!"

"The Kantri are going to have to leave this island in a maiter of hours, my friend," I said. "We may be forced to go before you have time to return."

"Then I will fly after you," he said simply.

"Toklurik—"

"I go now, Eldest," he said. "If you are not here, which way does Kolmar lie?"

I bowed. "Fly east and a little south. You will not miss it!

But Tok, be warned. If our Ancestors are correct it is a good five days' flight. Gain altitude every chance you get, rest on the wind when you can—" I stopped myself, for he was grinning at me.

"I thank you, Hadreshikrar," he said, bowing gaily to me. "I have not forgotten your lessons, and"—he hissed his laughter—"despite the lack of pupils neither have you, for I would swear the words have not changed since you instructed me full a thousand winters gone!"

"There is a small island south of east from here, that you should reach towards the end of the second day," I said, as he crouched to take off. "There is fresh water there, if nothing else. And the rest of us will never be more than a thought away."

"I thank you, Shikrar," he said. "I will speak with you again as soon as I have learned their fate."

"Fly well and join us when you can," I said.

I had known both Urishhak and Roccelis for many years, and never in all that time had I bespoken them and received no answer from either. I understood the need of their kinsman to seek for them, to know for certain, but in my own heart I knew that they were gone. I was very slightly consoled by the thought that at least those two, best of friends, went forth together, and as they never even cried out they must have died very swiftly indeed.

I found it increasingly difficult to think in the face of the high screech that seemed never to end. The air, as well, was now hazy and full of something that made many of us cough. It was time to go, but there was one thing left that must be done.

"Who keeps the Weh?" I called out as loud as I could. The question was echoed round the field, and two names came back to me through Trizhe.

"Eldest, there are two who keep the Weh, Gyrentikh and Nikis."

"Has anyone tried to rouse them?"

"Not that I know of."

"You are kin to Gyrentikh, are you not?"

"Distantly," said Trizhe, and unexpectedly he grinned. "Though I cannot think I would have fought and laughed with a brother any harder."

"Then call him. Do everything in your power to shatter his Weh sleep," I said fervently. "He took to his Weh chambers some moons since, did he not?"

"Nearly three moons past, Eldest."

"He is young, mat should be long enough. Go then, swiftly, stand at his ear and shout if you have to, but wake him!"

"I go," he said, though he looked a little dazed as he took to the air.

I cried out again, thankful for strong lungs and the silence of shock that most of us were in. "Who here is soulfriend to Nikis?" I asked.

Dhretan, little Dhretan stepped forward. He was the next youngest of us all, last born before my own grandson and barely come of age at just over five hundred winters. He bowed to me, very correctly. I could not help but smile.

"Eldest Shikrar, I have that honour. I am soulfriend to Nikis," he said.

"May I bespeak you?"

"Of course," he replied.

"There is no time for niceties. Understand, Dhretan, I would not break your faith with Nikis, but her life is in danger if we cannot wake her from her Weh sleep. Know you where her Weh chamber is?"

He looked terribly awkward at me question, as well he might. Unlike the Gedri, we grow larger throughout our lives—I am the largest of the Kantri as well as the Eldest. When our bodies feel the need to grow we are taken by the Weh sleep with very little warning, sometimes a day or two, sometimes only hours. We each have separate Weh chambers, far from our own living chambers, where we go to rest alone. Our old scales flake off and burn to ash, and as we sleep the soft new armour hardens slowly over several months, allowing us to grow without hindrance for that time. In the depths of the Weh sleep we cannot be awakened,

and any of our kind who stay near the sleeper are affected and will slumber as well. Therefore we must keep the Weh far from others, and as we are so vulnerable we tend to keep the location of our Weh chambers secret from all save perhaps a mate, or a soulfriend. That secret is given to be kept, not revealed.

"Dhretan, if it were not a question of saving her life you know I would not presume. For her sake I beg you, take me to her Weh chamber. The two of us will go and between us try to wake her or—or perhaps we shall attempt the impossible, and try to carry her here."

Dhretan's astonishment showed clearly, but he had no choice.

"I will take you, Eldest," he said.

"I thank you. My soul to the Winds, Dhretan, you serve your friend well in this."

Before we left, I summoned Idai and Kretissh. Idai was eldest after me, and Kretissh after her.

"My friends, there is not a moment to lose," I replied. "I go with Dhretan to waken Nikis, if it may be done, and to bring her here if that is possible. I must leave all else with you. There are five casks fashioned of khaadish outside my chambers, and within them are the soulgems of our Ancestors. Find bearers for them, of your kindness—I had meant to carry the soulgems of the Lost myself, but I may have a greater burden. And I pray you, send another dozen of the swiftest to collect hlansif trees, or seedlings, or whatever they can find. Kedra has thought it best that we arrive with gifts, and he has the right of it."

"Arrive where, Shikrar?" asked Kretissh, and around him the question was repeated. "Where do we go? Where is there to go?"

"There is no choice, my people," I said. "We must return to Kolmar."

"No!" cried a great voice, and I was not overly surprised to recognise it as Rinshir's. "Are we to beg house-room of the Gedri, Shikrar? The last time we lived there a single

Gedri killed fully half of us for no reason! Are we then to return and let them complete the task?"

"Please, Rinshir," I said as calmly as I could, fighting back the anger that rose at his words. "I know your objections, but it is not as if we have a choice."

"Alas, my father speaks truth, Rinshir," said Kedra. "Not only did our revered Ancestor Keakhor tell us that there was nowhere else to go; I have set out early and returned only when the light failed, sometimes flying for two long days before I turned back, most days of the last two moons." He bowed his head. "My people, there is nothing but barren rock, and little enough of that, for many days in any direction save east. There I found a small green island at the limit of two days' flight. It is barely the size of this field but there is a pool there with sweet water, and room enough to stand. We may at least rest there on our way."

"Shikrar, I still do not—" began Rinshir, but I was done with patience.

"You fool!" I cried, standing in Command. "Our doom shakes the very ground beneath our feet and you waste time on talk. Go then, fly from the fate the Winds place before you, fly south or north or west until your strength fails and the cold sea claims you, but do not hinder those of us who wish to live!"

"My people," I continued, raising my voice to carry, "Kol-mar was our home for many long lives of our people before we chose exile on this island. I was born here, we all were, and all the lives of our parents before us were passed in this place, but before that we shared Kolmar with the Gedri for all the mingled lives of both our peoples. This very island we named the place of exile. My people, our exile is done. We are going home."

"Very good, well said. I think they have understood it at last," muttered Idai in my ear, "but unless you get moving no one else is going to raise a wing." I crouched and prepared to go aloft, but Idai stood directly before me for a moment and addressed me silently. "And precisely how do you intend to waken Nikis? You know that the Weh affects all who go too near the one who sleeps."

"Idai, that was proven true by one who sat outside a cavern in the sunshine. I suspect there will be enough to think about to keep me wakeful." I replied. "Still, I would be grateful if you would bespeak me every few minutes, lest the Weh take me unawares."

"Humph. So you do have some sense after all," she said roughly. Her words in truespeech were far kinder. "Go carefully, my friend. We are beset with dangers, and of us all we can least bear to lose you."

"I shall take good care of this old hide." I replied lightly. "Go with the Winds, and get you aloft with as many as will follow you as soon as you can," I said aloud. "Do not wait for me, Idai. Get aloft, fly high, find the air currents if they are there to be found. East and a little south. Kedra knows the way."

I turned to Dhretan. "Let us go," I said, and leapt into the air.

"Eldest, a question," said Dhretan as we flew.

"Nearly youngest, an answer if I have one," I said, trying to keep my tone light. He was very young, after all.

To his credit, his voice was calm. "What shall we do if we cannot wake Nikis ? "

"If we cannot wake her, littling, then I will bear her hither myself. We will not leave her behind." I said, wondering at my own presumption. Still, it was not the journey from her Weh chamber that concerned me. That, I felt certain, I could do. It had never been done before, but I did not doubt that I could do it.

How we could bear a full-grown lady on borrowed wings for five long days, however, was another question entirely.

I walked straight down the stairs and out the door. I instinctively avoided making myself obvious, but a lifetime spent in the Service made me notice what kinds of folk were there. Mostly local Merchants of the lesser houses, farmers—oh, and the Healer had stopped for a drink as well— one or two young couples—a minstrel in the corner, playing to no one as usual—a particular type of nod and gesture from a figure in the corner, that was a colleague, I replied with the "all's well." A quiet night, then, widi luck.

All this I noticed while I was hurtling through the common room and out the door. I never cease to be amazed at what one person can do in just a few moments.

AYE, RELLA YOU IDIOT, LIKE SLAPPING JAMIE. OH, THAT WAS BRILLIANT.

I hate it when that voice in my head starts talking back. I started pacing up and down the street outside the inn, my anger rising nicely to the boil.

Could have been worse, I told that other voice. 7 could have really hit him, like 1 wanted to. Bastard! What brought all that on, anyway? When have J ever played the mercenary since I met—Hells, even since I met Lanenl

AND HER WITH THE EYES OF MY SWEET THYRIS, MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL, TAKEN FROM ME ALL THOSE YEARS GONE. I KNOW, I WAS LOST. WHEN SHE STARTED BEING KIND TO ME FOR NO REASON, YOU KNOW, I COULDN'T TREAT IT LIKE JUST ANOTHER ASSIGNMENT. MARAN'S DAUGHTER AND ALL-POOR MARAN, I'VE HARDLY SENT WORD ONCE A FORTNIGHT, AND THE CONTRACT SAYS FOUR TIMES A MONTH.

That Farseer's not wasted on her. She'll know what's going on.

AYE, AS FAR AS SIGHT WITH NO SOUND CAN TELL HER. I'M THREE REPORTS DOWN. SEND ONE TONIGHT, THAT WAS ONE OF OURS IN THAT CORNER. STRANGE. WHAT'S HE DOING HERE? STILL, ELIMAR'S A BIG PLACE.

You're avoiding the issue. Jamie. What are we going to do about Jamie?

WHAT IS THERE TO DO? ASIDE FROM WANTING TO KICK HIM I CAN'T HELP

GETTING FOND OF THE MAN, HE'S A DAMN GOOD FIGHTER. I'VE WATCHED HIM TEACHING VARIEN, HE'S PATIENT AND CLEVER, HE'S A GOOD MAN—.

The fact that he's our age and well made and moves like a dancer doesn't hurt, and he treats us—treated us—like a normal person, and when the light is right he's quite comely enough to be getting on with—

AND WE'VE GOT A CROOKED BACK THAT IS GETTING MORE PAINFUL EVERY YEAR. HELLS, HE THINKS WE'RE PAID DEMON FODDER, RELLEDA MY GIRL. HE WOULDN'T GIVE US A SECOND GLANCE IF WE WERE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN EVER BORN. BESIDES, HE'S GOT A FUME IN HIS HEART YET FOR MARAN, DESPITE EVERYTHING SHE HAS DONE TO HIM. I HEARD IT IN HIS VOICE THAT NIGHT.

Aye, and she has one for him. Remember!

HARD TO FORGET.

I suspect I'd have come up with something sensible just then, only somebody tapped me on the shoulder.

I drew a dagger and whirled, all in a motion, but he wasn't near enough to hit. There stood Jamie, standing well out of my reach, with the light from a distant doorway just about enough to let me see the laughter in his eyes. Not mocking, just amused.

"Just making sure you're not losing your touch," he said carelessly.

"If you'd been any closer, you idiot—" I snarled, sheathing the dagger.

"If I'd been any closer I would be an idiot." He stood with his hands behind his back. "In fact I'd be a bleeding idiot," he said with half a smile. It was an old scrapper's joke and not that funny, but I found the other half of the smile for him. Damn his eyes. I wanted to stay angry, so I stood and faced him there in the street. "What was it you wanted, Master?" I asked, planting my fists on my hips. I'm afraid the anger in my voice might not have been entirely convincing, but it's hard to fool another of your own profession.

'To apologise," he said, and he bowed to me right there in the street. I was starting to feel flattered until I realised.

"Fine," I said, angry again. "You can go back to Lanen and tell her you've made peace with me. Just let me alone."

Jamie smiled then—not a wry grin or a mocking grimace, just a plain smile. Goddess, he had a good smile. "Oh, no. Not yet. You may not know it, Mistress, but for the most part I'm a stranger to the ways of women."

"No, really?'

"Not that I haven't shared a bed with a few," he said happily. "I have, and heartily enjoyed it too."

"I'll bet."

"And I never had any complaints from the other half of the exercise, so you can stop sneering." He began to walk slowly towards me, like a smug salt-and-pepper cat, and I swear my heart started thumping so loud I expected him to hear it. Rella you ass, you're over forty, stop this foolishness, I growled at myself, but I didn't appear to be listening.

He stopped just a handsbreadth outside my reach with a dagger. Standard practice for personal conversations between fighters. "But I've not spent much time with anyone since Maran and I were on our travels," he said. I'd never noticed how pleasant his voice was, just that trace of a northern accent. Focus, Rella, keep calm—

"Until now. We've been together two full moons now. I've come to admire your skills and your courage, and the Lady knows you're sharper than I am, but you know, I had never seen even a glimpse of your heart before tonight." His brown velvet eyes were locked on mine. "It's a damn good one, Rella," he said, "but I may have the match for it."

And he stepped inside my guard.

Several thousand thoughts clamoured for attention and the trained part of me was yelling Threat! and trying to get me to draw a weapon, but sometimes you just have to ignore your brain and your training and listen to an older wisdom.

I can't remember who started kissing whom, but after a very short while it ceased to matter.