There was a general chorus of “Yes, My Lady,” and, after Calit’s order to move out by two’s, they started toward the dock, looking like they were one of the regular Blade teams that patrol the city on any given day. It was difficult for Sábria to be anything but what she was, so she and Ryn strode through the streets, stopping at shops and catching up with merchants she hadn’t spoken to in quite a while.

  Wanting to treat Ryn to Master Oline’s buttery croissants, she bought them each one along with a loaf of rye bread, one of her own particular favorites. When they left the bakery, two of the Blades in her group strode into an alley, and after giving them time to make sure it was safe, Sábria and Ryn followed, companionably enjoying the delicious pastry. This was the same alley Ghost had used when she’d pointed out the two sailors to Terrowyn. It led to a narrow back street that would take them directly to the pier.

  As luck would have it, the Boulston, the three-masted clipper ship the captain had said Prya had sailed in on, was berthed in the first slip to the right of the end of the road. Millnet Bay was a natural deep-water bay, and as such, an experienced ship’s crew could tow their vessel right up to the docks. The Boulston was the largest ship docked at the moment. Even larger ones lay anchored in the deeper waters of the harbor, but the captain and crew of this massive clipper had expertly maneuvered her into port.

  Sábria walked to the gangplank and looked up at the black ship. A red stripe ran along the gunwale, and as her eye followed it around, she saw the captain leaning against the railing, puffing on his pipe and staring down at her.

  When he realized she recognized him, he strolled to the gangplank and joined her on the dock. “Milady. I wondered whether I’d be seein’ ya a’fore we set sail.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Captain...?”

  He removed his pipe from between his teeth and held it on his chest. “Captain Aldean.”

  Sábria held out a hand. “Please call me Sábria.”

  He gently took the proffered hand and bowed over it. “Honorius.”

  “You’d mentioned that Prya might be staying on your ship, Honorius. Could I speak with her?”

  “That’d be up to her, I suppose.” He used his pipe to point to where the dock met the rocky incline beneath the wooden structure. “She be down there, Milady.”

  “Thank you.” The area he’d indicated was where they’d found Ailith after she’d dragged Octavia out of the sea. Sábria made her way to a path leading down below the dock itself, where she saw a pair of legs protruding from behind a large, round pylon. Guessing Prya was resting against the solid wooden post, she started forward but stopped when she heard two voices murmuring to one another. Not wanting to intrude, she stepped far enough to the side to where she could be seen and peeked around the corner.

  What she saw brought her up short. Ailith was sitting close to Prya, too close as far as Sábria was concerned, and she was pointing to something the woman held in her lap. Irritation colored the Priestess’ words as she barked, “Ailith?”

  A very shocked young shiv grabbed the object out of Prya’s hands and stuffed it down the back of her pants. Jumping to her feet, she stared wide-eyed and wildly tried to come up with her reason for being with the King Slayer. “Milady. I…I… didn’t expect to see ya down here.”

  “Obviously.”

  Appearing relaxed and unconcerned, Prya glanced over her shoulder and dipped her chin. “My Lady.”

  “What’s going on here?”

  Ailith blurted out, “Nothin’.”

  Sábria walked forward and pointed to Ailith’s waist. “What was that you put behind your back?”

  Blushing now, Ailith blinked several times and then glanced up to see Subcommander Calit and the Lady Knight standing above them. “Do I have to say, Milady? I’d rather not.”

  Sábria’s eyes narrowed, but she shook her head. “No. You don’t. Not right at this moment, anyway.”

  With relief relaxing the tense muscles around her eyes, Ailith stepped onto a rock and started moving up the incline toward Calit. “With yer permission, Milady. I’ll be off.”

  Sábria didn’t respond, and Ailith didn’t wait around to hear whether she’d be allowed to leave. She hurried over the rocks until she came to the path and then climbed the rest of the way up to the dock.

  Looking at the woman relaxing casually against the pylon, Sábria stepped forward and leaned against a particularly large, jagged stone. She reined in her temper before she spoke because she wanted this to be an amiable meeting and not a contentious one. “What are you doing with my shiv?”

  “Ailith?” Prya looked up into Sábria’s face. “She comes here sometimes to watch the jokesters. I thought she looked like she could use a friend, so I came down to join her.”

  “You’ve met with her more than once?”

  “No. We only docked a few days ago, My Lady. She’s the one who told me she likes to come here and visit with the jokester she said stole her tunic.” Prya smiled as she looked out over the gentle waves. “I would have loved to have seen the two of them, though. If my guess is right,” she glanced at Sábria again, “they’re two of a kind.”

  If Shirin was protective of the Arch Priestess, Sábria was ten times as protective of her Blades and twenty times more so when it came to her shivs. “What did she hide behind her back?”

  A spark of amusement lit the woman’s eyes. “I think that’s something she should tell you, don’t you?”

  Gathering her patience around her like a cloak, Sábria pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly before pointing to the place Ailith had vacated. “May I join you?”

  Prya glanced at her with quiet amusement. “It’s your Empire, My Lady.”

  Recognizing the peace offering for what it was, Sábria responded in kind. “At the moment, it’s your pylon.” She stepped over some rocks and sat next to Prya. A jokester raised his head and snout out of the water and pushed backward while chittering his message to the two women. “Is that Ailith’s friend?”

  “He’s the only one I’ve seen around here. He hangs around begging fish from the sailors on deck. He’s quite the personality.”

  They watched his antics until Sábria picked up a pebble and used her thumb to flick it into the water. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

  “No need, My Lady. Will your Blade be all right? At times, my reactions are automatic, and I realized too late how the King Slayer pulling a knife on one of the realm’s rulers must have appeared to her. I’m the one who owes you and your Blade an apology.” Her voice, so full of friendly banter a moment earlier, lost all animation. Now all Sábria heard was defeat and overwhelming depression.

  As though she realized how she must have sounded, Prya forced a smile onto her face. “But, since I won’t be able to apologize in person, would you pass it along for me? I think we’ll be leaving port sooner rather than later.”

  “I’d like to do better than that.” Taking the small loaf of rye bread from her pouch, she unrolled the handkerchief she’d stored it in and set the dark loaf on her thigh. Pulling out her belt knife, she cut a slice and handed it to Prya.

  The woman stared at it for such a long time that Sábria wondered whether she’d erred somehow.

  Prya hesitantly took the peace offering, ate it, and held her hand out for the knife.

  As she watched the woman cut a second slice, Sábria couldn’t help but notice the tear making its way down Prya’s cheek. The Arch Priestess took the proffered bread and slipped it into her mouth.

  Rubbing her cheek dry with her shoulder, Prya expertly flipped the blade and handed it back, hilt first.

  Sábria accepted the blade with one hand, and with the other, she placed her palm beneath Prya’s hand and closed her fingers around it. “Come stay with us at the Temple for as long as you like, Prya. You can’t run away from who you are and what Elyon asked you to do. We are her Blades, and she considers you one of her children, too.”

  Prya shook her head. “I thank you, but—”

  Her words were cut short by the clattering of hooves behind them. The sound echoed off the walls of the buildings leading to the Port, and Sábria sheathed her belt knife and turned in time to see Ryn hurrying up to the dock. When she returned, all the blood had drained from her face and she called down to Sábria, “Knights!”

  Sábria immediately rose and started up the path. She stopped halfway and turned back to Prya, “I didn’t bring them.”

  Not appearing too concerned, Prya loosely pursed her lips and lifted a shoulder as if to ask, “Does it really matter?”

  Sábria hurried up the incline, where she was met by her ten Blades and Subcommander Calit. She composed herself and waited for the mounted contingent of Knights to approach.

  Ryn stepped up beside her and said quietly, “I knew nothing about this, My Lady. I swear.”

  Slowly turning an angry glare on the young Knight, Sábria replied in the same, quiet tone. “We’ll speak of this later, Ryn.”

  Ryn heard the displeasure in the Arch Priestess’ tone, pulled her shoulders straight, and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. She knew now wasn’t the time to argue her innocence. She sensed, rather than saw, the ship’s captain and several of his sailors pass behind them and wondered whether they’d try to protect the King Slayer from a contingent of mounted Knights. She silently amended her thoughts to King Maker and knew she’d gotten herself and the Arch Priestess into a bind.

  If the Knights went to arrest the woman, would Sábria and the ten Blades move to stop them? Would they be joined by the captain and his crew, and if so, should she stand with the Blades or with her fellow Knights? Clearly, she hadn’t thought things through well enough, and she cursed at her political inexperience and lack of training while she’d been a squire. She hadn’t realized she’d cursed aloud until Sábria spoke without looking her way.

  “I invited you, and the blame lies with me. When they arrive, move to stand with the other Knights. I can’t advise you what to do if there’s a confrontation.”

  “What they’re doing is wrong, My Lady. I won’t lift my sword against you or your Blades.” With that, she stepped onto the cobblestone street and was quickly surrounded by the mounted Knights as they moved around her to confront the Arch Priestess.

  Sábria watched as Ryn was engulfed by the horses, and when one moved aside, she caught sight of the lady Knight’s back as she retreated up the street toward the palace. Sighing, she whispered, “Sábria, sometimes you can be such an idiot.”

  Sir Compton, one of Aloric’s sycophants, rode forward. “We’re here to arrest the King Slayer, Lady Sábria. Where is she?”

  Subcommander Calit drew her sword and stepped forward. “You, and all of those with you, will dismount and bow to the Arch Priestess, Lord Compton.” The schick of ten swords leaving their scabbards backed up her words.

  Compton, a man with a long, hatchet-face and sallow complexion, was one who believed women should keep to their place, but as most of the eight Knights who’d ridden with him dismounted, he had little choice but to dismount as well. Handing his reins to another Knight, he strode forward and, with a sneer, bowed no lower than protocol demanded.

  Sábria ignored his question and instead answered with one of her own. “How come you here, Compton, on the same day my Blades and I visit Captain Aldean?”

  Her deliberate use of the name without the accompanying title wasn’t lost on the Knight. His nostrils flared, and although he’d never risk his life by backhanding the woman, he was sorely tempted.

  A second Knight handed his reins to a companion and approached. He deliberately stepped in between Sábria and Compton and bowed low. “My Lady, Sábria. Lord Compton had word that the King Slayer is staying here. Emperor Aloric has charged us with apprehending her and bringing her to the palace to face a trial before his magistrates.”

  “Compton had word from where, or more specifically, from whom, Lord Archer? And why do you come riding down to the docks fully kitted for battle when I’m here with my Blades?”

  Her deliberate use of Archer’s title when she’d omitted his own wasn’t lost on Compton. Blood suffused his cheeks, and he pushed Archer aside. “I will speak for myself, Archer.”

  Lord Archer surprised Sábria when he growled, “Then you’ll address the Arch Priestess with respect, Compton, or I’ll know why.”

  “You dare address me in that manner?”

  Sábria had deliberately used Archer’s title to drive a wedge between the two men, and it appeared she’d succeeded. “Then speak to me, Compton. Who brought you word that you might find the King Maker here at the docks?”

  Captain Aldean strode up the path from beneath the pier puffing on his pipe. There was a definite twinkle in his eye that told Sábria that, for whatever reason, there was no longer any danger to Prya.

  Compton, who was still focused entirely on Sábria and her continued insults, reared to his full height, which was easily a head taller than Sábria, if not more. “The King Slayer is here, and by the authority of Emperor Aloric, I intend to search the area until I find her. We have no intention of fighting your Blades, My Lady,” he sneered the words, “but we will search now.”

  “We aren’t stopping you, Compton.”

  “Your Blades have their weapons drawn.”

  “Because you chose to give insult by addressing me while still on horseback.” Sábria nodded to Calit, who stepped closer but sheathed her sword. The rest of the Blades did the same, and Sábria added, “Something I won’t soon forget.”

  The captain strode to his gangplank, and Compton, who at least realized rudely pushing past the Arch Priestess would not be a wise move, dipped his head as he circled around her on his way to confront the man.

  If the murderous look Archer sent to Compton’s back was any indication, he was not pleased with what had just taken place. “My Lady. I had no idea you would be here, and if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have joined Compton on this errand. He came in shouting he had word of where we could find the King…” he paused and bowed slightly, “the King Maker, and since we’d been charged with bringing her to justice, we rode with him.”

  “Justice? Justice for what, exactly?”

  Archer was a redhead, and when he blushed, his entire face and scalp betrayed him. “That’s not for me to say, My Lady.”

  “Knights are supposed to act with honor at all times, Lord Archer. I understand that Emperor Aloric has put you and these other Knights in an untenable position where you either arrest a woman who has broken no laws, or you disobey your oath to obey your sovereign. Either way, he has placed your honor in jeopardy.”

  He pulled in a breath before squaring his shoulders. “Is the King Maker here, My Lady?”

  Sábria shrugged. “I met Captain Aldean yesterday, and he invited me to visit him on his ship.” She crossed her arms and waited.

  He bowed, “Then, I apologize for disrupting your visit.” With that, he, along with three other Knights, mounted and rode off. The remaining five Knights ground-tied their horses and began searching the docks. One took the path leading to where Sábria had met with Prya.

  When he returned and began searching elsewhere, Sábria growled quietly to herself, and she and her guards made their way back through the city and into the Temple grounds.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Ailith what?” Shirin’s mood didn’t improve when she heard Sábria had gone to the docks without her. In fact, it had grown noticeably worse over dinner as she listened to Sábria telling her about Compton’s rudeness and Ailith’s spending time with Prya. “I’m gonna kill her when I get out of here.”

  Since it was just the two of them, Sábria had climbed onto the bed and was eating from a plate she had resting on her lap. “For what?”

  “For what? We know nothing about the woman, and what does Ailith do but go down to the docks and sit alone with her beneath the pier.”

  “She’s not a child, Shirin. You’re overreacting because your hand hurts. I intend to speak with Ailith tomorrow. Are you going to eat that cobbler?”

  Shirin’s rooms adjoined Sábria’s, and the two women stopped talking when they heard a thump on the other side of the wall. Sábria set her plate on the bedside table, pulled her sword from the sheath she had hanging over the back of the chair, and then pointed at Shirin, who was frantically trying to unhook her hand from the sling.

  “Don’t you dare. Wait here.” Sábria quietly let herself out into the hall. With her sword at the ready, she was just about to open the door into her suite when it was opened by someone on the inside. She moved forward and stuck the sword’s point against the person’s throat.

  A soaking wet Ailith froze and held her hands out to her sides. Anger and frustration loosened her tongue more than usual, and she blurted out, “I wish you and th’ Commander would stop stickin’ yer fowkin’ swords into me throat.”

  Shirin came bounding out of her room wearing a night robe and holding her sword at the ready. She narrowed her eyes at Ailith and then looked at Sábria. Shaking her head, she retreated inside and slammed the door.

  Lowering her sword, Sábria stared at the puddle forming at Ailith’s feet, and then very slowly, her gaze traveled up the soaking wet trews and tunic and came to rest on Ailith’s face. Even though she turned her head to the side, her eyes, which had turned a livid ice blue, glared daggers into her shiv’s eyes.

  As Sábria reined in her anger for the third or fourth time that day, the knuckles on the hand holding the sword turned a pasty white, probably due to the fact she was squeezing the hilt hard enough to reshape the metal tine. At least that’s what it felt like, anyway.

  Even though she’d never seen Sábria quite that angry before, Ailith started in on her explanation because she just wanted to get this whole day over with. “Th’ fowkin’ King Slayer jumped in th’ ocean to get away from th’ fowkin’ Knights. I’d circled back and was watchin’ in case I needed to protect ya from those skizzy Knights. I saw her swimmin’ and knew she had no idea where to go to get away from ‘em, and I jumped in to swim her around th’ fowkin’ peninsula and brought her up th’ fowkin’ tributary to about a mile from th’ Temple.”