Defensive moves were about all she could manage because as soon as she blocked one opponent, the other recovered from her previous block and attacked. Several onlookers formed a circle around them, and Ailith knew they were in trouble when three more attackers drew their swords and joined the first four.

  When two of them joined the two already attacking Sábria, Ailith’s blood ran hot. No matter what Sábria had said, it was her job to make sure she brought the Arch Priestess back to the Temple in one piece. Snarling a Dreyuthan blood challenge, she went on the offensive, hacking at one man’s sword and then pivoting and raking the tip of her sword across the pidge’s breasts.

  With blood pouring down from a deep gash in her chest, the pidge dropped her ax and fell back onto one of the stoops, where an onlooker rushed to help staunch the bleeding. Ailith barely registered what she’d done as she parried a high strike and then growled as she pulled her blade down and plunged it through her attacker’s chest.

  She swung him into the next attacker, kicking his body off her sword and tangling the new man up enough so that he fell backward onto his shoulders. Raising her sword above her head, she readied herself for a killing blow.

  The nob’s eyes opened wide as he saw the feral rage in Ailith’s eyes. He screamed and held his sword arm above his head in a vain attempt to stop what he knew had to be the demon of death staring him in the face.

  “Nyvum! Enough!” Shouting first in Dreyuthan, followed immediately by the exact same order in Cibían, a deep, baritone voice boomed above all the rest, followed closely by Sábria’s shouted order.

  “Ailith. Stop!”

  Ailith had already started her downward swing, and she had to step forward in order to pull the blow. Her chest was heaving as she swung around and glared at the rest of the attackers, ready for whatever came. She shouted in Dreyuthan, “I’ll kill ya all, ya fowkin’ bastards. Come on!”

  “Ailith! Enough.” Sábria’s tone brooked no argument.

  The man’s baritone sounded again, this time entirely in Cibían. “Put yer swords away. Now!”

  All of the attackers and Sábria complied, but Ailith was having a difficult time containing her rage that these people had attacked her Arch Priestess.

  Sábria stepped toward her. “Ailith, sheath your sword and come over here.”

  Nostril’s flaring, Ailith met Sábria’s steady gaze, pulled in a deep breath, and did as she’d been ordered. She sheathed her sword with a clack and walked over to stand next to her Priestess.

  The baritone belonged to a man of considerable height and girth, all of it muscled and battle-hardened. He stepped into the middle of the street and spoke directly to Ailith. “Yer Dreyuthan?”

  “Aye.”

  “And judgin’ by yer build and th’ way ya handle that sword, ya were in th’ army.”

  “Aye.”

  “Who was yer master, then?”

  “Lord Ravenkind and th’ Lady Knight—”

  A toothy grin spread across his face as he supplied her with the name. “Isobel.” He shook his head and glanced around at the crowd before turning his attention back to her. “I knew ya sounded like that scamp what Lady Isobel brought home with her to Drethemere.” He pounded his chest, “I be Tomand, th’ one what drug ya out of th’ river on a cold, snowmeere day after th’ lady threw ya off th’ bridge fer sassin’ her.”

  The man’s jovial greeting put an end to the last of the hot blood flowing through her veins. Ailith returned his grin and walked over to take his extended hand. “And yer th’ one I bested in the knife throwin’ contest. Aye?”

  He pounded her on the back. “Ach. Ya cheated, ya ró múgromin peasant.”

  Ailith lifted one shoulder, acknowledging that fact. “Aye, well, it won me a copper, no?”

  “Aye.” He glanced at Sábria and then pulled Ailith under a massive arm. “Where ya headed then? Old Tomand’ll see ya right.”

  Sábria bristled. “Take your arm off her.” There was a definite warning in her voice, and the commanding tone wasn’t lost on anyone. She’d seen blood trickling down Ailith’s side, and she was fairly certain Ailith had no idea she’d been wounded.

  Tomand lifted his arm and dipped his chin without taking his eyes off the Arch Priestess. “Aye, Guardian. Me apologies. Now, walk with me.” He turned to the rest of the crowd, who were either milling about or tending to the wounded. “Zan got what he deserved. Shouldn’t have attacked two Blades fer walkin’ through our district. Get his body to th’ midden so the city guard don’t have no reason to come. Th’ rest of ya, get back to yer own business while I see to th’ Blades, aye?”

  Two men grabbed Zan’s feet, and they began dragging him down a side alley, presumably on their way to the midden.

  Sábria and Ailith fell in beside Tomand as he started up the street. He glanced at Sábria out of the corner of his eye. “Where are ya headed, Guardian?”

  There were several bridges along the tributary, and since Sábria wasn’t sure which one they were headed to, she looked to Ailith, who provided the answer. “To th’ bridge just past th’ Carltham channel.”

  “Well then, sooner started, sooner there, aye?” He escorted them down back alleys, always moving north toward the tributary. When they neared the bridge, he glanced around to make sure they were alone before hitting Ailith’s shoulder with the back of an open hand. “What th’ fowk are ya doin’ bringin’ th’ Arch Priestess to th’ Foreign District without no guards, ya fowkin’ skizzy pounit?” He looked at Sábria, “No offense intended, Yer Grace.”

  He had to lean back when the tip of the Arch Priestess’ knife bit into the underside of his chin.

  Sábria’s response was cold and measured, “Offense taken, Tomand. You will never hit one of my Blades again, or you’ll know the sharpened edge of my knife.” She pushed the tip a bit higher to emphasize her point.

  Even Ailith felt the chill of her words, and she thought she’d try to ease the strain of the moment. “Ya don’t call her Yer Grace. She’s Milady.”

  Sábria glared at Tomand one last time before lowering her knife and sheathing it. She stepped closer and pulled up the back of Ailith’s tunic to see how badly she was injured. “Don’t call me either of those while we’re here. Brita is just fine. We’re here to collect someone and then return to the Temple.”

  Tomand rubbed his chin where the sword had dug into his skin. “Apologies, My…Guardian Brita. Ailith and I had a relaxed friendship when I knew her, and it were only reflex. Won’t happen again.” He bent to look at Ailith’s wound. “Not bad, thank th’ blessed Goddess.”

  Ailith stepped away and pulled her tunic down. “It’s fine. We need to go, Milady.”

  Nodding, Tomand started north again. “Aye. When ya said th’ bridge, I knew ya was here fer th’ King Slayer. I ran into her when I brought me punt into shore. Let’s get her and get th’ three of ya out of here a’fore word spreads that there’s two Blades wanderin’ th’ district. I don’t have th’ pull with th’ folk from th’ other kingdoms.”

  When they came to the tributary, they ducked beneath the bridge and were met by Prya, who stood with her sword in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. When she recognized both Ailith and Sábria, she angrily glared at Ailith while she sheathed her sword. “What in the name of the blessed Goddess are you doing bringing—” Realizing it wouldn’t be prudent to identify Ailith’s companion in front of this stranger, she changed what she’d intended to say mid-sentence. “Bringing her through the—”

  “Call me, Brita, while we’re here, Prya. And I came personally to make sure you understood you’re welcome to come stay with us. That you need to come stay with us.”

  Growling her frustration at the unexpected visit by the Arch Priestess herself, Prya slipped her knife into its sheath. “Brita then. Well, Brita, we need to get you and your shiv back to the Temple. Now.” She emphasized the last word and indicated Tomand with a lift of her chin. “Can you get us further upstream so we don’t have to move through your area of the city?”

  Insulted that Prya had usurped her role as Sábria’s guide, Ailith growled, “Who died and made ya queen, eh?” She stepped back and held up her hands when the other three turned angry eyes her way. “Fine. Fine. Tomand, do ya have a boat, then?”

  “Aye, I can row ya to just opposite th’ grove. Can ya get ‘em back unseen from there?” He turned to Sábria and Prya. “Th’ Lady Knight bragged about th’ chit’s trackin’ and sneakin’ skills. She even hired trainers fer her whenever they stayed in one place long enough fer her to learn new things.” He beamed with pride, “Me family has served Drethemere fer five generations. I’ll be goin’ back in a few moons, once I settle some family business I got here. I’ll be proud to tell her I helped her Ailith and…er, Brita.” He scratched behind his ear. “Although, it’s aye strange that I happened to be on Rutland Street when ya got into a scrape.”

  Sábria’s anger toward the man had cooled, and she took a moment to reassure him. “Not so strange, Tomand. Very often, the Goddess paves the way for her people. You can believe she put you in that spot at that time for a reason.”

  His eyes filled with awe as he digested the fact that he’d been used as an instrument of the Goddess’ plans. He whispered, “Fowk,” and then smiled his yellow, toothy grin. “Wait ‘till I tell Lady Isobel that one, eh?”

  CHAPTER 24

  They walked through the back gate a candlemark later, where they were stopped by the gate guard, Tanna. “Subcommander Calit said to let you know they’re holding thirteen spies in the outer bailey for you.”

  Sábria nodded her thanks and turned to speak to Prya. Before she got a word out, Tanna interrupted, something that was so uncharacteristic that Sábria turned back around to face her.

  “She also said to make sure you knew that Commander Shirin found out you’d left the Temple without any guards….” Tanna’s brows rose into her bangs. “Apparently, she’s not in the best of moods.”

  Ailith spoke at the end of a long sigh. “Fowk.”

  Sábria chuckled before putting her arm around Ailith’s shoulders. “Why don’t you do your sneakin’ and go find Jenx and then stop into the infirmary before your shift begins?”

  A blade came hurrying through the gate from the inner bailey. “Jenx is right here, My Lady. I’ve been watching for you from the top of the tower. The Commander’s organizing a search party for the two of you, and I thought I should grab Ailith the moment you came through the gate.”

  The thought of Shirin angrily storming around the Temple had Sábria shaking her head. “Can I join you?”

  Jenx grinned and chanced a good-natured jibe at her Arch Priestess, “You’re on your own, My Lady.” She lifted Ailith’s bloody tunic to see how bad the injury was. “Not too bad. Good.” With that, she put her arm around Ailith’s shoulders and steered her toward the infirmary.

  Prya watched Jenx and Ailith leave and then looked toward the inner courtyard. “I’m not so sure I want to meet her right about now, either.”

  Sábria raised her brows. “Ah. Good point.” She called over a Blade passing by the archway. “Marzet.”

  The woman stopped to see who was calling her. When she saw Sábria, she came jogging over. “Am I ever glad to see you, My Lady. The Commander is—” She stopped herself when she remembered whom she was talking to.

  “So I’ve heard.” She rested a hand on Prya’s back. “This is Lady Prya Játhea.”

  “Just Prya. I’m no lady.”

  Sábria thought about that for a moment and then decided to promote the woman. “You are now. I admire what you did for your people, Prya, and as far as I’m concerned, my Blades will address you with the respect you deserve.”

  Prya looked down at her boots and then met Sábria’s gaze. “My Lady. I’d like nothing more than to be a lump in a corner of your Temple reading a good book. I don’t want to be Lady Prya, or the King Slayer, or the King Maker, for that matter. I don’t want to be anyone but Prya from the tiny village of Firbridge for a while. I don’t know whether you can understand that, but….”

  Sábria put her hand on Prya’s arm and squeezed before leading her to a spot where she could speak without Marzet overhearing. “Remember whom you’re talking to, Prya. There have been many, many times when I wanted to go back to being an ordinary Blade working on deadnight shift instead of being the Arch Priestess of the Daughters of Elyon. I understand, and I’ll honor your wishes.”

  Sábria motioned for Marzet to join them again, “Would you take Prya up to the fourth guest room on the second floor of the Sanctum? And I think you’d better use the backstairs, just to be on the safe side.” She smiled at the worried look on Marzet’s face. “Marzet, there’s no need to look so worried. Tell me. What is Shirin’s rank?”

  “Commander.”

  “And what is my rank?”

  Marzet got the point Sábria was making and relaxed her tense shoulders. “Arch Priestess, My Lady.”

  “If you happen to run into Commander Shirin while you’re taking Prya to her room, tell her that you’re following my orders. Oh, and once you get Prya settled in, please show her the Sanctum’s bathing rooms so that she can get out of these wet clothes and warm up. Then I need you to find Mistress Dunaid and ask her for some night clothes, some fresh undratrews and a breastband, along with a clean tunic and trews in her size.”

  Marzet nodded. “Yes, My Lady.” She turned to Prya. “I’ll be happy to escort you to your room.”

  Prya nodded her thanks to Sábria as she fell in behind Marzet.

  Sábria watched them go and then decided it was time to find Shirin before she had the entire Blade contingent out searching for her. When she strode beneath the archway into the courtyard, the place was lit with so many torches, some in sconces, most in Blade’s hands, it almost looked as though they were standing in the middle of the day. The surprise on everyone’s faces would have been comical under different circumstances. She held her arms out to her sides. “I’m fine. Everyone can go back to doing whatever it was you were doing before the alarm was raised. Thank you for your concern.”

  The look of utter relief on Shirin’s face made her wish she could have handled things differently. But, what she’d done couldn’t be helped, and she tilted her head, indicating Shirin should follow her into the Sanctum’s front garden. She strode in and took a seat on the round bench that circled the trunk of the dogwood tree.

  When Shirin followed her into the garden, Sábria patted the bench seat beside her.

  Without saying a word, Shirin came over and sat beside her friend.

  Sábria gently took Shirin’s injured hand and held it in her lap. “You’re not supposed to be out of bed, you know. At least your knuckles aren’t as swollen as the last time you got out of bed earlier than you should have. I think we need to get you back upstairs and elevate that hand before Haria finds out what you’ve been up to.”

  Shirin smiled wanly, “She already did, and she wasn’t too pleased. But she understood why I was upset.” She’d been staring at their hands, but she raised her gaze so she was looking directly into Sábria’s eyes. “You left without telling me where you were going, who you were with, and when you’d be back. I know you’re not a child, Sábria. But you’re the Arch Priestess of the Daughters of Elyon, and there are many factions who would love nothing more than to be rid of you. I can’t protect you,” she waved her hand towards the inner courtyard, “we can’t protect you if we don’t know where you are.”

  Sábria brought Shirin’s hand to her cheek and held it there. “I’m sorry I worried you, but both times I took people to speak with Prya to try and convince her to come back with me to the Temple ended in disaster. I knew instinctively that if something happened a third time, she’d be gone.” She returned their hands to her lap. “I also know that the Goddess wants her here with us in the Temple and that Elyon would protect me were anything to occur. And she did.”

  Shirin’s head shot up at that.

  “I’ll tell you the whole story after we get this poor hand elevated. But back to Prya. I don’t know how long the Goddess wants her to stay, but I couldn’t risk losing her. Sometimes I have to make decisions for the greater good. I’m sorry I worried you, but it couldn’t be helped.” Remembering how well Ailith did in the fight, she brightened and held up a finger. “Oh, and you’ll be glad to know Ailith can be called off even when she’s in berserker mode.”

  Shirin popped off the bench and towered over Sábria. “What? What in the name of the Goddess do you mean, berserker mode?”

  Lifting a shoulder, Sábria patted the bench again. “The important part of that sentence was about Ailith maintaining control of her emotions while repelling an attack.”

  Shirin was shouting now. “During an attack? An attack? You were attacked?”

  Hearing the Commander shouting, two Blades ran into the garden, saw Shirin waving her arms in front of the Arch Priestess, and quietly backed out.

  Fatigue after the evening’s excitement was catching up with Sábria, and she rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Shirin. I’m fine. Please sit and stop yelling the word attack, or you’ll have the entire Blade contingent running in here to find out what the problem is.”

  As if on cue, Dina stepped beneath the arches holding a torch. She saw the two women near the tree and came to attention.

  Sábria put the back of her hand on Shirin’s hip and moved her aside. “Yes?”

  Dina saluted. “My Lady. Lord Dunham is in the outer bailey demanding to know why we’re holding thirteen of his people under guard. He’s also demanding to speak with you.”

  Shirin spun around. “Demanding? He’s demanding?” She growled and moved to go out to speak with the Emperor’s seneschal.

  “Shirin.” Sábria’s patience was running thin. When Shirin stopped, the Priestess barked at Dina. “Dismissed.”

  Inordinately relieved to be sent away while the two highest-ranking women in the Temple argued, Dina saluted again and hurried out.

  Seething now, Shirin waited to hear what Sábria had to say.