“Don’t you want to look at it?”

  “No. It’s holy, Milady. It’s a keshai chaiwe.”

  Sábria took it back, holding it with the same reverence as Ailith had done, more to honor her shiv’s heritage than because she felt any reverence for the delicately carved flute. “My father said a Dreyuthan priest gave it to him as a gift.”

  “This is yer folk’s home?” Ailith glanced around nervously, hoping Sábria’s parents wouldn’t return to find her inside.

  The sad smile barely lifting the sides of Sábria’s lips spoke volumes. “It was.”

  Ailith vaguely remembered her saying something about her parents when she’d been talking to the old lady, but so much had happened so quickly that she couldn’t remember what it was. She hadn’t ever thought of Sábria having any family except the Blades, and she cocked her head and asked, “Yer an orphan, too?”

  “I am.”

  “And this is yer home?”

  Sábria shook her head. “No. The Temple is my home. I suppose you could say this is where I come when I need time to myself. In this case, to be alone with the ghosts of my past.”

  Ailith pointed to the flute Sábria was absently holding close to her chest. “Then, Milady, do ya know what that’s fer?”

  The flute was used in religious ceremonies. Sábria knew that much, but by the way Ailith was looking at her, she knew there had to be more. “No, I don’t.”

  The fire was ready for more wood, so Ailith knelt and added the bigger logs she’d brought in.

  The wood hadn’t yet been stacked in the wood box, and Sábria went to one knee, picked up a log, and handed it to her. “Will you tell me?”

  Taking the wood, Ailith took a moment to stare into her eyes. “Milady, yer eyes are always full of life. Bright with carin’, or they flash with anger,” Ailith grinned at that, “usually at me, or they’re full with love. But now they’re sad, and I think playin’ th’ keshai chaiwe will help ya. Holy people play it, wind walkers, we call ‘em. They play a note here, change th’ fingerin’, and play another note. Doesn’t matter th’ note. But those notes are callin’ th’ ghosts of th’ dead ones yer thinkin’ about. The holy folk don’t play it all th’ time, just when they need help from th’ other side. Ya ken?”

  Sábria lifted the flute so she could examine it more closely and looked up when Ailith continued her explanation.

  “Ya probably don’t believe this, but us mountain folk know that those who walk the winds, th’ holy ones, can see things to come. Not clear, but blurry-like. They don’t never give these,” she indicated the flute with a lift of her chin, “to folks not holy. I’m wonderin’ if maybe the holy man gave this to yer Da because he saw you, a holy person, would need it one day. Like…maybe today?”

  Tears slipped from Sábria’s eyes, and she wiped them away with her fingers. “How did you get to be so wise?”

  Ailith grinned, “And such a pain in th’ ass, too? Fowk, Milady. I’m no wise. I listened to th’ wise ones when I were little, and we were sittin’ around th’ fires, and I try all th’ time to remember their teachin’.”

  Sábria carefully returned the flute to its case. She stared at it for a while, gathering her thoughts. As she’d listened to her shiv, it had occurred to her what place this mountain peasant would play in Ty’s life. Had to play in her life. “Ailith. I have a favor to ask of you.” She returned and knelt by the fire.

  “Of course, Milady.”

  “There’s going to be a new woman in the Temple who only speaks Dreyuthan. I was wondering if you would….” Sábria’s words trailed off as she gazed into the fire.

  Shirin stopped in the doorway when she saw the two women kneeling together. She waited to see what they were talking about.

  Ailith picked up a poker and shifted the wood in the fire to allow for more airflow. “If I’d what, Milady?”

  Her words startled Sábria out of her reverie. She blinked several times as though she’d forgotten Ailith was even there.

  The confusion worried Shirin, and she wasn’t sure whether she should order Ailith to go out to the woodpile to give Sábria time to gather herself.

  Ailith sensed something was wrong, and she stopped poking the fire long enough to get a good look at the woman who’d always been so sure of herself. “Ya said there’ll be a woman. Ya want me to translate fer her? Will she be livin’ there? Fer good or just fer a few days? Do ya ken her name?”

  “Ty.”

  Ailith smiled when she heard the name. “Doe.”

  Sábria’s brows furrowed. “What?”

  “Ty means doe in Dreyuthan. Well, really, it means…I’m not sure of the word…little doe. Um…fawn? Yeah, I think fawn is yer word fer it. That’s her name? That’s pretty, Milady.”

  “Ailith. I’d like you to do more than translate. She’ll need a friend. She’s young…well, older than you, but young to me.”

  Sábria’s smile held a profound sadness, so Ailith attempted to ease her mind. “Of course, Milady. I know what it’s like to be alone in a strange place. How will I know her? What does she look like?”

  Thinking back to when she’d seen Ty’s face for the first time, Sábria felt suddenly lightheaded. She lowered herself completely onto the floor and drew her legs up in front of her chest. Wrapping her arms around them, she rested her forehead against her knees.

  Shirin strode in then and rested a hand on Ailith’s shoulder. “Why don’t you finish delivering the wood to the rest of the rooms?”

  Sábria’s head shot up. “No.” She brought her hands to her face and covered her eyes. “No, Ailith, wait. Please.”

  Ailith had pushed to her feet at Shirin’s order, but at Sábria’s words, she squatted again and worriedly watched her Arch Priestess.

  They waited in silence while Sábria collected herself. Finally, she raised her head and looked directly into Ailith’s eyes. “She looks like me, Ailith. Just the way I looked twenty turns past.”

  Ailith’s eyes narrowed, but after a moment, they opened wide, and she nodded. “Oh. The babe. The one what was sold. Her name is Ty.” Tears came to Ailith’s eyes at the trust Sábria was placing in her. “Milady, I’d be honored to call her me friend.” Not sure if it was the right thing to do, Ailith went with her gut feelings and held out her hand.

  Sábria stared at it momentarily and then took Ailith’s hand in hers. Sometimes, it seemed Ailith was too perceptive for her own good. Words erupted from Sábria’s mouth seemingly of their own volition. “I didn’t sell her into slavery.”

  “What th’ fowk? Of course, ya didn’t! What kind of fool talk is that?”

  “Ailith.” Shirin’s angry bark brought Ailith up short.

  “Fowk. Me apologies, Milady. Yer no fool. I’m th’ fool fer sayin’ somethin’ like that. But I know ya’d never sell a babe, or anyone else, fer that matter, into slavery, no matter how young, nor hurt nor grievin’ ya were, and I’ll pound anyone into th’ ground what says ya did.”

  Sábria smiled at the fiercely protective look in Ailith’s eyes. “Please don’t. If someone says…that…let it go, find Commander Shirin, and tell her what happened.”

  Shirin surprised both Ailith and Sábria when she growled, “And then I can pound them into the ground myself.”

  Sábria chuckled and rubbed her eyes. “Shirin.”

  Happy to see her words had the effect she’d hoped to elicit from her Arch Priestess, Shirin rested her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’m pretty sure every Blade and civilian in the Temple will do the same if that rumor ever gets started.”

  It was quiet for a moment, and Ailith took advantage of the lull to add another log to the fire. When the yellow flames began licking at the log, she sat back and cocked her head, staring into Sábria’s eyes with concern. “Milady, there’s no need fer naught to know she were a slave. That’s her tell, no? Not ours.”

  The fact that Ailith’s words made perfect sense only added to Sábria’s feeling that she was still off balance because that hadn’t even occurred to her. “Of course. I should have thought of that. But Ty only knows how to act like a slave. People will know.”

  Ailith shook her head, “Nai, Milady.”

  Shirin pursed her lips and decided this conversation was too important to interrupt with a correction for Ailith’s slip of the tongue.

  Not noticing her Commander stiffening at her words, Ailith continued, “I’ll teach her, and I think, early on, she should only come out of her room when th’ Commander, or me, or Lady Isobel are with her, aye? We’ll tell folks it’s because she’s shy and don’t speak Cibían, but really, if she starts to say or do somethin’ that’s not right, I’ll just break in and say somethin’.” She got a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Even though I know folks’ll be surprised that I might talk over her and spew out words they don’t expect.”

  Shirin was relieved to see Sábria chuckle at Ailith’s words.

  Ailith grew serious again, “There is somethin’ though that I think I should tell her right off, Milady.”

  Sábria’s brows rose. “What’s that?”

  “Well, ya know how th’ Blades, and well, th’ Dreyuthan army, are pretty easy and relaxed when it comes to couplin’?” At Sábria’s nod, Ailith continued, “Well, with a Dreyuthan slave, as long as th’ master don’t say otherwise, if someone tells her they want to couple, she’ll…um…obey.”

  The blood drained from Sábria’s face. She covered her eyes, trying to hold in the tears that were threatening again.

  Ailith touched Sábria’s knee. “I’ll tell her she’s no a slave no more, and she can say no.”

  Without lowering her hand, Sábria whispered, “Yes, that’s good.” Her voice sounded ragged, even to her own ears. “I think you should go now, Ailith. Thank you.”

  Ailith glanced at the Commander. “I’ll finish bringin’ in th’ wood?”

  “No, I’ll do that, Ailith. You go out with Terro and guard the front and back until Prime Geller returns with the security detail.” She pulled two silvers from a pocket in her trews. “Give this to Killian and tell her she and Emlyn are to go to the market and buy enough fresh vegetables, meat, and fish to last two people for three or four days. Oh.” She pulled out two more silvers, “And have them buy three bottles of Verdeluxe Rosé and three Tafonti.”

  “Aye, Commander.” With a last glance at Sábria, who was resting her forehead on her knees, she pushed to her feet and let herself out of the front door.

  CHAPTER 16

  Shirin stared down at Sábria a moment before gently taking her arm. “Come on. Let’s get you to the sofa so I can finish bringing in and stacking your wood.

  Sábria stood, but instead of moving to the sofa, she returned to the desk. Her tired words had very little inflection as she gave Shirin her orders. “No, I want to finish writing orders for the next few days so I can be alone. I’ve written a generic order summoning more Blades. Have the scribes make ten copies addressed to each of the ten closest Temples. You sign them as my proxy. As the new Blades arrive, you’ll assign them everywhere except the Codpiece. They’ll replace our Blades patrolling the rest of the city. Then our Blades will begin patrolling the Codpiece. No fewer than four in a group with at least one senior Blade in each group.”

  Lists of details began flowing through Shirin’s head. “I’ll write the orders to begin backfilling the numbers in those ten Temples from ones further away. I’ll have Calit contact the messenger guild to employ enough⁠—”

  Sábria held up a hand. “I don’t need to hear the details, Shirin. Do what you need to do. I just need to finish writing my proclamation.”

  “Proclamation?”

  “Something I should have done turns ago. How could we have left the women and children in the Codpiece so unprotected for so long? And how have we left the children to starve, and why did it take an uneducated peasant from Dreyutha to point out our shortcomings?”

  “Sábria. It’s not like we’ve ignored the problem. We haven’t left them unprotected. You know as well as I do we’ve tried over and over again to help them, and they run from us at every turn. Most of the lollies want us gone because they can’t get their Rukilla dust when we’re around, and the skellis and nints don’t trust us to go anywhere near them. How many times have you⁠—”

  The low growl coming from Sábria brought Shirin’s words to a halt. “We should have tried harder. I should have tried harder. I don’t care how you do it, but I want Terro and Ailith delivering food every day, Shirin. Every. Single. Day.”

  “Yes, My Lady. And…the proclamation?”

  “I don’t care what Aloric says. Any nobleman, foreign or domestic, who is caught during Festival harming any woman or child in the Codpiece will be brought up on charges and sentenced to time in the Magistrate’s prison. I’m changing the law, at least concerning how we handle crime during Festival.”

  “My Lady, the nobility will be up in arms, not to mention how angry Aloric will be.”

  “I’m also writing a letter I want you to personally deliver to Farry as soon as possible. Deliver it before you post the proclamation. I want her to speak to as many of the noblewomen in Sarlogne as possible. She needs to convince them that what’s happening in the Codpiece by foreign nobles has necessitated this change, and they, in turn, need to convince their husbands not to foment rebellion. I don’t care how Farry does it. But she’ll be my secret weapon within the noble classes. That’s why making it a temporary solution, one that will only be in effect for the Festival makes sense. I think the men will at least listen to their wives for that short amount of time. Many of them, anyway. We’ll work on more permanent changes when I’m…when I’m back.”

  The nib on her quill had dried, so she dipped it in the ink and began to write.

  Once Shirin had all the wood stacked and the parchments secured in a satchel, she accompanied Ailith back to the Temple. They stopped next to the Citadel, and before Ailith could excuse herself, Shirin put a hand on her arm. “Am I right in thinking you haven’t had anything to eat since last night?”

  “Aye, but I’m more tired than hungry, Commander. It’s time fer Deadnight shift to be in bed, and I was hoping⁠—”

  Shirin had planned to go directly to her office but decided she needed to introduce Ailith to Ty sooner rather than later. “I’m sorry, Ailith. If you can stay awake a bit longer, I’d like to introduce you to Ty first.”

  Ailith fell into step beside the Commander. She was feeling both anxious and curious and decided that curiosity was the stronger of the two emotions. They entered the dormitory and climbed to the second floor, which was reserved for honored guests who didn’t rise to the level of staying in the guest quarters within the Sanctum. That was strange. Why wouldn’t Lady Isobel, let alone Sábria’s daughter, be staying in the Sanctum?

  Ailith had never been on this floor, but she’d heard that the art hanging on the walls had all been done by members of the Temple—Blades and civilians alike. One portrait of a Blade in full uniform standing in front of the gates of the underworld caught her eye. She stopped and stared at the muscular woman holding a sword dripping blood in one hand while she held up the severed head of the man whose body lay in a bloody heap beneath her foot, which she had firmly planted on his chest.

  “Ailith.”

  Ailith quickly caught up to her Commander and muttered under her breath, “I’d guess she were pissed off at that nob.”

  Shirin flicked a glance over her shoulder at the painting and shrugged. “It’s a self-portrait. She was a talented artist as well as a respected Blade. About ten turns ago, the artist’s lover was killed by the man whose head she was about to toss through the gates to the underworld. She tracked him down and executed him without bringing him before Master Fiyori to dispense justice.” Shirin caught Ailith’s eye. “She painted that from her prison cell right before she hung herself.”

  Ailith glanced back at the painting.

  They both stared at the art and then Shirin shrugged, “We keep it here to remind our guests just how difficult and costly our lives as Blades can be here at the Temple.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Vara Ainsel. She was one of the best Blades I’ve ever known.” With one last, contemplative look at the portrait, Shirin continued down the hall until they came to the fifth door on the right. She knocked, and they heard movement inside.

  Ailith’s heart leapt when Lady Isobel opened the door and looked out to see who was knocking. “My Lady! I didn’t know ya were here!” She wasn’t expecting to see the questioning, slightly irritated look that passed between Isobel and Shirin, so she decided this probably hadn’t been the time to cheerfully greet her former master.

  Shirin motioned for Ailith to remain in the hall, then stepped into the room with Isobel and shut the door.

  Isobel immediately confronted her. “Do you honestly think this is an appropriate time for Ailith and me to reconnect?”

  “No, I don’t. But Sábria realized that after you leave, Ailith will be the only one able to communicate with Ty, and she asked her to befriend her and teach her about life here in the Temple.”

  Knowing Ailith as well as she did, Isobel ran her hand up into her hair and left it there. “Blessed Goddess. Now there’s trouble waiting to happen.” She glanced at Ty, who’d lowered herself to her knees when she’d seen Shirin enter.

  Shirin pursed her lips when she noticed Ty kneeling in the corner with her head bowed. “Please tell her she doesn’t have to go to her knees when she meets someone of rank while living here in the Temple.”

  Isobel glanced sideways at Shirin. “While she’s living here? Sábria has accepted her, then?”

  Shirin pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She’s very shaken but realizes she can’t turn the equivalent of a blank slate,” she indicated Ty with an open palm, “out on her own. That’s a recipe for disaster, and if she returns with you to your culture, she’d go right back to being a slave. Granted, she’d be your slave, and neither Sábria nor I have any doubt that you would treat her well. But she’d still be chattel, and that’s not acceptable to any of us.” With an irritated glance at the woman kneeling in the corner, Shirin repeated, “Would you please tell her to get off her knees?”