“Of course, My Lady.” Emlyn watched Sábria walk out of the stables. The discouraged slump to the Priestess’ shoulders was something she would have sworn would never happen when she’d first met the formidable Arch Priestess. She glanced over her shoulder and decided then and there to do her best to help Ailith in any way she could.

  Twenty-Five

  A fortnight later, Terrowyn rode into the Temple feeling more relaxed than she’d been in a very long time. She’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with her nieces and nephews. They were a rambunctious lot and had her fighting in mock battles and running around with the youngest on her back as she pretended to be a wild horse.

  As soon as she rode through the gates, however, she knew something had changed. She noticed Geller standing next to the statue in the middle of the courtyard talking to one of the Blades on gloaming shift.

  When the Prime saw Terrowyn dismount, she waved and walked over. “It’s about time you got back. I got that tired of babysittin’ yer squad fer ya.”

  “Well, I say it’s about time ya did some work around here. Ya should be thankin’ me, not complainin’ like some baby shiv.”

  Geller put her arm around Terrowyn’s shoulders and walked her into the dining hall. “Ya must be starvin’, let’s go inside and see if we can convince th’ cook to give ya a plate of them dumplings we had fer th’ midday meal.”

  When they walked through the door, Terrowyn knew something was wrong. Groups sat around with tankards of ale—nothing new about that—but the usual boisterous conversation and laughter she was accustomed to was missing. A few Blades turned their heads when she walked in. Some waved, others knew the irascible Senior Guardian wouldn’t return the gesture, and they resumed whatever conversation they were having before she arrived.

  Geller motioned for her to sit at an empty table. “I’ll get it fer ya. Sit.” She returned and set a plate full of dumplings and a tankard of ale in front of her and then pulled out the bench opposite Terrowyn and sat.

  Terrowyn wasted no time getting to the point. “Okay, what th’ fowk’s wrong with everyone? I’ve never seen a gloomier gatherin’ than what I’m seein’ right now.”

  “There’s a lot wrong right now, and ya should’a been here fer it. None of us handled it very well, and when Sábria returned from Fraham, what she found put her in a foul mood that hasn’t lifted fer th’ fortnight since it happened.”

  “Since what happened?

  “Well, first, ya need to know we lost one.”

  Terrowyn sat bolt upright. “What? Who? From my squad?”

  “Not from yer squad. Maeira in Arane’s.”

  “Maeira? What th’ fowk happened?”

  Geller glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear what she had to say and then filled her in on the events of the past fortnight.

  When the Prime finished, Terrowyn, who’d been listening intently, glared at her. “Yer tellin’ me Ailith ran, and that little mouse Nox managed to kill three nobs all by herself?” She ground her teeth as her anger rose. “One of my shivs ran? I’ll kill her.” The wooden legs of her bench scraped against the tile floor as she shoved back and stood, ready to find Ailith and whip the skin off her back. The murmurs around the hall stopped as everyone turned to watch her reaction.

  Geller pointed to the table.

  “Sit.”

  Fire flashed in Terrowyn’s eyes. “One of my shivs ran? And ya expect me to just sit and do nothin’?”

  Geller stood and pointed to Terrowyn’s bench. She spoke in a low growl. “I expect you to follow an order when I give one, Keavey Terrowyn.”

  Terrowyn had never disobeyed one of Geller’s orders, and she reluctantly sat. “What about Jenx?”

  “Jenx got knocked out.

  Terrowyn angrily stuffed a dumpling in her mouth and worked to calm her racing mind. She chewed, swallowed, and met Geller’s gaze. “What does Jenx say happened?”

  “Jenx was unconscious fer a long while and doesn’t remember shite.”

  Geller looked over Terrowyn's shoulders.

  Shirin had just come through the door, and when she saw them seated off to the side, she headed for their table. “Judging by the silence in the room, I guess you told her?”

  “Aye.”

  Jabbing her thumb over her shoulder, Shirin looked at Terrowyn. “With me.”

  Terrowyn, who’d lost her appetite after hearing what had happened to Maeira and Jenx and that cowardly shiv, Ailith, wiped her mouth with a cloth.

  Geller started to rise, but Shirin shook her head. “Not you.”

  Geller nodded, figuring that Shirin was taking Terrowyn to Sábria, and they didn’t need a crowd in the room. Not to mention that she knew for a fact Sábria was livid at her command staff for not keeping a closer eye on Ailith. She sighed and lowered herself back down.

  The Citadel was exactly where Shirin was going, and as they climbed the stairs, she spoke just above a whisper. “Keep your temper, watch your mouth. Sábria is livid at what happened, and she doesn’t need you adding to her stress. Understand?”

  Terrowyn stopped on the top step, leaned in, and hissed, not wanting the Arch Priestess to overhear, either. “If my shiv really ran, I’m gonna kill her.”

  Shirin jabbed her finger in Terrowyn’s face and spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s exactly the kind of talk you’ll keep to yourself. You keep your mouth shut, Terro, until you hear what Sábria has to say. Do you understand me?”

  Terrowyn reluctantly nodded, “Aye, Commander.”

  When they walked into the office, Sábria was standing with her back to them, looking out the window. When she turned to face them, Terrowyn was shocked by the changes in the woman’s face. There had definitely been some weight loss, but it was the stress lines etched into her forehead and the hardness in her eyes that were the most remarkable and troubling changes.

  Sábria’s smile was forced, and she indicated the table to the side of the office with an open palm. “I’m glad to have you back, Terro. Please take a seat.” She glanced over at Shirin. “You’re welcome to come sit, as well. There’s no need for you to stand over there by the door.”

  The rectangular marble-top table was small by some standards, but six chairs could comfortably be set along its sides with two more pushed in on either end. Terrowyn pulled out one of the chairs facing the floor-to-ceiling bookcase on that side of the room and waited for Shirin to take the one next to it. They both politely waited for the Arch Priestess to join them before seating themselves.

  Sábria brought three glasses and a wine decanter to the table. “Can I offer anyone else some wine?” She took one of the chairs facing them and sat.

  The other two sat as well. Shirin nodded, and just as Terrowyn was about to decline, Shirin gently pressed her heel down on the other woman’s boot. Terrowyn changed her no to a yes at the last moment. “I could use a drink right about now, it was a long ride, and I didn’t have a chance to drink any of my ale before the Commander came to get me in the dining hall.”

  Sábria poured the wine, handed one to both women, and kept one for herself. In previous times, she might have lifted her glass in a friendly welcome home toast to Terrowyn’s safe return. Instead, she distractedly took a sip and set her glass down. “Did you enjoy your family? It’s been quite a while since you’ve seen them, hasn’t it?”

  Realizing that the polite conversation was Sábria’s way of working into a stressful topic, Terrowyn nodded, “I did. And aye, it’s been too long. Th’ oldest became a squire. It’s what he always wanted. My brother forgot to mention that little detail in his letters. And th’ youngest is already three turns. She was just a swaddlin’ bairn th’ last time I was around.”

  They sat in uncomfortable silence, something else that never would have happened in happier times. Sábria took another sip and began with the real reason she’d asked Shirin to bring Terrowyn into her office. “Has anyone filled you in on our tragic news?”

  “Yes, Milady. I’m that shocked. I never thought…” at the last moment, she stopped herself from saying that skut-brained shiv, “…that Ailith would run from a fight.” She was surprised to see the anger flash in the Arch Priestess’ eyes.

  “Who told you what happened?”

  “Ursuna.”

  “Did she also tell you that I’ve kicked eight women out of the Blades for what they did to Ailith when she was restricted to her room?”

  “No.”

  “They humiliated and degraded a woman with only nineteen turns to the point she may never return to the Blades.”

  Terrowyn glanced at Shirin, who shot her a warning glance. She chose her words carefully. “Why, exactly, would you want a woman in th’ Blades who ran from a fight where a Blade was murdered?”

  Sábria rubbed her temple. “Terro, I not only trust you implicitly to do as I ask, but you’re also Ailith’s direct supervisor, and I’m going to tell you something that you will repeat to no one. No one. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Milady.” Realizing that what Sábria had to say was extremely important, Terrowyn set down her wine glass and leaned forward, giving the Arch Priestess her undivided attention.

  “I’ve already discussed this with Shirin. So, if you feel you need to speak about this to someone, you’re welcome to talk about it with her. I don’t believe Ailith ran from that fight. I believe Nox is lying, and Ailith is taking the blame.”

  “What? No. Why would she do that fer someone like Nox? I can understand her doin’ it fer a good friend, but fer a mouse like Nox?”

  “When Ailith and Emlyn joined the Temple, I asked our archivist to bring me all the reading material we had on the Dreyuthan army as well as on the Kibrunian societal norms.” She laid her hand on several books stacked neatly on the table. Most were smallish tomes, all were leatherbound, probably gifts to some previous Priestess from the respective kingdoms. One was even bound in green leather with embossed gold lettering running up the spine.

  Terrowyn hadn’t been aware they even had any material on those kingdoms, but the fact that Sábria had the archivist dig some up didn’t surprise her. Sábria was nothing if not thorough, and that she’d taken the time to read about the cultures of her two newest shivs only added to Terrowyn’s belief that the Goddess surely chooses only the best to be her voice among her people.

  “What I discovered is that in Dreyutha, where Ailith’s from, no self-respecting warrior would save her own life at the expense of another warrior's life. I believe in her own way, Ailith is protecting Nox by sacrificing herself. To do otherwise would absolutely, in their way of thinking, be a cowardly act.”

  Terrowyn considered this. “But, Milady, there's no way ya wouldn't have asked her what happened. I've never known ya to allow someone to either lie to ya, or to lie by just not sayin’ what happened.”

  Sábria sat back and crossed her arms, eyeing Shirin with a frustrated glare Terrowyn didn't quite understand. The Priestess absently tapped her arm with one of her fingers. “Ailith isn't the same as she was before this incident. And it wasn't even the attack itself. I believe it was what happened after that changed her. Khaldo and seven other Blades took it upon themselves to throw trash, rotten fruit, and horse manure into her room while she was lying on her bed. They left human waste in her room, Terro. They humiliated her to the point where her anger and her rage have grown to such an extent that I'm not sure how she would react if I tried to push her into telling me exactly what happened.”

  “What? Why didn't anyone stop it? I can’t imagine either Ursuna or Subcommander Calit allowing something like that to happen.” That cold anger flashed in Sábria’s eyes again, and Terrowyn shot a quick glance at Shirin before looking back at the clenched fist tucked beneath Sábria’s crossed arm.

  It was Shirin who answered this time. “Both of them thought that with Ailith confined to her room, everything would be fine until Sábria and I returned. I know for a fact that either woman would have immediately put a stop to what was happening if they’d known—”

  Sábria interrupted with what sounded like the continuation of an argument she and Shirin had been having for a while. “They should have known, Shirin. They should have been checking on her. They should have placed guards on that door, someone whom they trusted not to allow eight, tenured Blades to abuse and humiliate a nineteen-turn shiv. But they didn't, did they?”

  Shirin looked down at the table and remained silent.

  Sábria glared at her for a time and then returned her attention to Terrowyn. “The reason I'm telling you this is because I know you, Terro. I know you were ready to go running off to find Ailith and throw her up against the wall. Teach her what happens to shivs under your watch who run away from a fight. Well, I’m here to tell you that you will not do that. Neither will you allow other Blades to badmouth Ailith. To say she's a coward. And yes, I do want the old Ailith back. I want to see the shiv that kept baiting you at that dinner table, trying to get you to react. I want to see the mischievous warrior whom I had to discipline the first day she applied to become a Blade. I want the warrior who took herself off to the forest and fire-roasted a salmon over an open fire just to give herself time to calm down after Khaldo bullied her in front of a tableful of Blades. Because no, I do not believe she ran from that fight.” She punctuated her next words with her finger on the tabletop. “I…do…not.”

  Terrowyn rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and rubbed her tired eyes. She’d never cared much about other people’s problems or interpersonal relationships. Her strength was keeping the people in her squad safe and alive, and she had no time for the gamesmanship that went on within the Temple. She’d never put up with bullies, and harshly dealt with them whenever she became aware of their cruelty.

  Sábria watched her and then sat forward again. She leaned on her elbow and pointed a finger at her Blade. “And here’s the second reason I asked Shirin to bring you. You're my tracker dog, Terrowyn. When I need information, you're the one I turn to. You have a nose for what's happening on the streets and down the back alleys and in the Market Square. I want you to ferret out the truth about what happened in that alley. I want you listening in on conversations, I want you having conversations with every Blade you can find who might have some information. When you’re back on deadnight, I want you listening. I want you ferreting out whatever information you can find. I want to know what happened in that alley. I want to know the truth, not something some snotty little shiv made up to protect her own scrawny little ass.”

  Terrowyn stopped rubbing her eyes and looked up. She’d never heard Sábria use such crude language, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She expected it from people like Geller and even Shirin when they were down at the alehouse having a couple of drinks and talking about the happenings in the Codpiece, but not Sábria. One of her shivs was hurting because of something that could have been prevented, and she was taking it very, very personally. “I’ll do what I can, Milady, but I’m willing to guess there’s a lot of anger and hatred out there right now among the Blades. Blades don’t take kindly to one of their own running away from a fight. Especially one where a Blade gets killed, and another knocked unconscious. I don’t think Nox is stupid enough to tell anyone what really happened. But I’ll ask in the city, put my feelers out and see what I can find.”

  “Thank you, that’s all I can ask.” Sábria caught and held Terrowyn’s gaze. “When Duke Ravenkind left Ailith with me, do you know what the last thing he said to me was?” When Terrowyn shook her head, Sábria turned to Shirin. “Do you?”

  “No, My Lady.”

  Sábria opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. The muscles in her jaw jumped as she tried to hold in her emotions. Pulling in a deep breath, she got up and strode to the window. Crossing her arms, she looked down over the courtyard and, with her back turned to the two women, managed to say, “He asked me not to break her. And do you know in my arrogance what I told him?” She didn’t wait for them to answer. “I told him I don’t break my Blades. Well, I lied, didn’t I? Ailith is broken, and I intend to do everything in my power to fix her.”

  Twenty-Six

  Seeing the change in Sábria’s personality and having her say that she could track down even the smallest hint of a rumor within the city or within the Temple itself had given Terro a sense of purpose. The thought that Nox may have thrown Ailith to the wolves infuriated her more than the thought that Ailith may have run from a fight where a Blade was killed.

  For the next ten nights, Terrowyn spent much of her shifts in the alehouses, talking with the nobs and pidges she knew might have heard even the slightest rumor about what happened in the alley. It was frustrating because, to a person, no one had seen anything.

  The morning after her tenth shift back, she and Geller were sitting in the front yard of the Broken Tooth Inn, a small, dingy little one-room inn that served only one item on the menu every morning. The item was different each day, depending on the whim of the cook. The meal either had meat or didn’t, had pastry or didn’t, had vegetables or didn’t. What set the place apart from the other dingy eating places was the cook who could turn the simplest food into a mouthwatering delight.

  It was about a candlemark past the end of deadnight shift when most people had staggered back home or, if they worked all night, crawled into their beds to sleep off the previous night’s excess. They’d chosen to sit out in the courtyard, mostly because the air inside was rancid with the smell of spilled ale and the remnants of overpowering sweat, not to mention the overflowing piss pots inside the latrines stationed a good distance away from the back door. At one time, the alehouse had working plumbing, but over the decades, the lazy landlord’s negligence had rendered that amenity non-existent.

  Out front was a little better. At least there was a cool breeze blowing through the courtyard, carrying away most of the foul stench of the nearby midden. The Broken Tooth was on the edge of the Codpiece and, therefore, very close to the filth of the lower quarter.