“We’ll have three glasses, Diara, and then you may serve the dinner.”

  Diara curtseyed. “Yes, My Lady.”

  After pouring the wine, the young woman brought a bowl of tri-colored rice to the table. She served Sábria first, then their guest, and finally, she gently spooned a generous portion onto Shirin’s plate. When she returned to the side table for the venison, Sábria began with the polite discourse common to all such occasions.

  “We were fortunate to find you in Sarlogne at the exact time we needed your services, Amancio. I trust we won’t be taking you away from other duties?”

  “Not at all.” He nodded to the server, indicating he’d like a ladle of orange sauce poured over the rice. “I was carrying a missive from the Tuvistian Goldsmith’s Guildmaster to the Master here in Sarlogne. Fortunately, the Master here didn’t have a return message, and I’ve been able to visit Princess Shirin and other friends I’ve acquired over the turns.”

  Once the server had ladled a portion of mixed, steamed vegetables onto every plate, Sábria nodded. “Thank you, Diara. If you’ll wait in my anteroom, I’ll have Shirin come for you when we’re ready for some after-dinner sweets.”

  Diara curtseyed and let herself out of the room.

  They talked about inconsequential things for a while longer, but eventually, Sábria set her fork aside and broached the subject of her letter. “So, Amancio. Did Shirin tell you anything about my plans, or should I say, my needs?”

  “She mentioned that you might have a…confidential assignment for me. However, she didn’t go into further detail. How may I be of service to you, Sábria?” He grinned and glanced at Shirin. “That still sounds too informal, but the last time I called you My Lady, Princess Shirin kicked me under the table.”

  Shirin opened her mouth wide. “I did not.” Then she blushed and shrugged, “Okay, I did, but she told you to call her Sábria. And what’s with this Princess Shirin bit? You usually call me Bug.”

  “Bug?” Now it was Sábria’s turn to grin.

  Amancio chuckled, “We were eight or nine…” he looked at Shirin for confirmation.

  “Something like that.”

  “And I had two coppers Shirin wanted. I said, fine. There was a beetle crawling across the stable yard, so I said, you eat this beetle, and they’re yours. Well, she picked up that bug and started to put it into her mouth, and then she burst into tears and said that the poor thing was still alive and it probably had an entire bug family back at home, and she couldn’t eat it.”

  Sliding her fork under the last bit of rice and venison, Sábria chuckled, “So you got to keep your coppers, and the beetle returned home to his family.”

  Shirin sighed, “And he called me bug until I left to join the Temple. So, I have no idea where this Princess Shirin came from, so knock it off, Pug.”

  Amancio scrunched up his rather long nose. “Ouch.” He sent a pleading look to Sábria. “And please don’t ask where that appellation came from. It’s too painful a story.” He sighed and, wanting to change the subject, repeated his question. “How may I be of service to you, Sábria?”

  “I’ve written a letter to Duke Ravenkind in—”

  “Dreyutha. I know him well.”

  “Well, that certainly makes things convenient.” She sat forward and pointedly tapped a finger on the table. “The letter in question absolutely cannot be seen by Emperor Aloric or Dreyutha’s King Prather. The only person you may give it to is Duke Ravenkind, and it needs to pass directly from your hands into his. Should any other circumstances arise, you are to immediately destroy the letter. If you’re uncomfortable with my stipulations, I’ll not hold it against you if you wish to rescind your kind offer to help.”

  His eyes shone with resolve. “Intrigue is the butter to my bread, My Lady. King Somerled has entrusted me with many covert assignments during my time as a royal messenger. I’d be honored to carry your message to the Duke.”

  Sábria pushed back her chair and then walked to her desk, where she picked up a sealed packet addressed to Duke Ravenkind. When she returned, she handed it, along with a silver riel, to Amancio.

  He took the letter but refused the coin. “No, thank you, My Lady. You’ve done so much for my family already that I’d be honored if you’d allow me to return the favor.”

  Confused, Sábria looked to Shirin for clarification.

  “You may have forgotten that Blade Killian is Amancio’s younger sister.”

  A bright smile lit Sábria’s tired face. “Of course. I had forgotten since she’s become such an integral part of our Temple. She’s one of the best handlers we have for our young trainees. She’s such a pleasure to have around, and she’s an excellent swordswoman.”

  The man returned her smile, pride written in every line of his face. “She was always better at swordplay than me, and from the time she first learned of Elyon’s Blades when she was five or six turns old, that’s all she ever wanted to be. The day you accepted her into your service was one of the happiest for my family. So please, allow me to carry your letter as a small token of our gratitude to you.”

  “Then, I thank you. Have you visited with Killian lately?”

  “I have. She and that shiv youngster, Emlyn, have met with me twice. Once for dinner and once at that cursed awful bug-infested rathole called the Broken Tooth.” He raised his brows comically and looked at Shirin. “Come to think of it, you might have some of your relatives living there, Bug.”

  Shirin picked up a roll to toss at him, but Sábria held up a finger. “Don’t.”

  Instead, the Commander daintily raised the bread to her mouth and took a small bite. A spark of hope ignited when Shirin saw the hint of amusement in Sábria’s eyes for the second time in as many days. Duke Ravenkind would have an answer for them. He had to.

  Later that evening, Sábria was lying in bed going over a new history the archivist had found on Dreyuthan customs when she heard a light tap on the door. “Come.” She was relieved it was Shirin and not one of her Blades needing comfort that night. With emotions still running high, there had been many, many women who needed to either come to her to confess their mistreatment of Ailith or to simply seek solace.

  Granted, after the first few confessions, the ones seeking absolution had stopped coming. Goddess knew she was no confessor, especially in these circumstances, and she’d been more inclined to take her whip to their backs than to offer pardon. After the first two had walked out with stripes instead of comforting words, people had realized just how angry their Arch Priestess was with their foolishness.

  Shirin came in carrying a pot of warm lavender oil. “It’s been too long since the comforter has received comfort.”

  “Not tonight, Shirin. I’m just not in the mood.”

  Without a word, Shirin set the oil on the nightstand, pulled the bed covers down, and took Sábria’s hands. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulled her forward and away from the headboard and ran her fingers through her friend’s soft, golden hair. Moving in even closer, she whispered, “Hush,” and then ever so lightly covered Sábria’s lips with her own.

  Nipping her way up to Sábria’s eyelids, she kissed first one and then the other while pulling the silken robe off her friend’s shoulders and arms, letting the wrap fall to the bed. Slipping out of her night shoes, Shirin straddled Sábria, sat back on her heels, and guided her forward until her temple rested on Shirin’s breast.

  Shirin dipped her hand in the oil. Hard, stress-filled muscles met her fingers as she began slowly massaging the knots that had been building in Sábria’s shoulders for days.

  Gradually, the muscles across her back relaxed. Shifting backward a bit, she cupped Sábria’s hips and slid her down until she could ease her head onto the down-filled pillows that always brought comfort in times of deep stress. Dipping into the oil once again, Shirin smoothed it over the tops of stiff shoulders and up the sides of her neck. Back and forth, she eased the tension with firm, smooth strokes. The tranquil scent of lavender mixed with Sábria’s natural body odors gently permeated the air.

  With eyes closed, Sábria smiled and pulled in a relaxing breath. “I guess I did need this after all.”

  Leaning over her, Shirin took Sábria’s bottom lip into her mouth and sucked gently before whispering, “Hush.” She pushed her knees back until they were straddling thighs she’d come to know intimately over the years. Using more oil, she slid her hands up and down lithe arms, kneading the muscles, working in the oil. She worked her thumbs into forearms made tight from turns of sword training and slid them down to where the oil would help soften calloused hands.

  When she sensed Sábria’s hands relax beneath her ministrations, she worked her way to the upper arms, where she ran practiced hands up and down the long muscles, massaging away any stress remaining there. This she did over and over until the final time her hands came to Sábria’s biceps.

  Leaning down, she sucked her way down one collarbone and up the other, repeating the process until Sábria’s breathing slowed and became shallow with her growing need. Shirin’s hands moved inward then, flowing over the curving mounds, back and forth until she held two silky breasts beneath oiled hands. Kneading them gently, slowly, she smiled as the nipples rose to meet thumbs that caressed in rhythm with the gentle squeezing of her hands.

  Placing her lips over a fully erect nipple, Shirin pulled it into her mouth and gently sucked. Sábria’s groan of pleasure was the first of many as Shirin spent the remainder of the evening offering the relaxing, sensual pleasures of the Kibrunian arts to her sensitive and compassionate Arch Priestess.

  Twenty-Nine

  Each time Emlyn brought the midday meal to the stables, Ailith’s irritation ratcheted up a notch. She didn’t need the food. She wanted nothing from the Blades. She was a stable hand who shoveled shit, and that’s what she intended to do for the rest of her life. That morning, the plumbers Kemi had brought in the previous day had finished fixing the leaks, and now it was time for her to shovel all the dirt that she’d brought out over the past ten days back over the exposed pipes. She thrust her shovel into the dirt pile, turned, and threw it down into the hole.

  Emlyn, used to Ailith ignoring her, hopped up onto a workbench, set Ailith’s plate down beside her, and kept hers in her lap. She spoke in a monotone, not expecting Ailith to answer or come get the plate. “It’s toasted cheese on rye bread today. They’re still warm, and the cheese is nice and gooey.”

  Ailith turned and rested the shovel on her shoulder. “When the fowk are ya gonna realize I don’t want yer food? I don’t want nothin’ from th’ fowkin’ Blades.”

  “So, you’re planning to starve yourself, are you? That’s not so different from me throwing myself off the tower, is it?”

  “I ain’t starvin’ meself. I eat out here at th’ stables, on me own, without ya sittin’ there botherin’ me with yer skezzi small talk.”

  “Oh, you mean the carrots Kemi has for the horses? Or do you mean their oats? Do you even use your hands, or do you just dive in with your mouth like the horses do?” Emlyn had never been sarcastic with her before, but she was getting very tired of Ailith’s temper.

  Ailith threw the shovel into the wall, where it clanged loudly and fell to the ground. She stormed over, picked up the extra plate Emlyn had brought, and hurled it against the wall, too.

  Emlyn had seen Ailith angry before, but the bared teeth and the bulging muscles in her neck, combined with eyes that bore a hole into her own, made her very nervous. When Ailith grabbed the edge of the table and upended it, sending Emlyn flying, that was going one step too far. She shoved off the ground, ready for a fight.

  Ailith raged at her, “Get out. I told ya over and over. I don’t want no food from th’ fowkin’ Blades. Get out!”

  Kemi raced out of her office and placed herself between Ailith and Emlyn. “Emlyn, why don’t you take yourself off to th’ courtyard? I’ll help Ailith pick up th’ table, and th’ two of us can get back to work.”

  Realizing that her being there was what had set Ailith off, Emlyn rolled her head on her shoulders, trying to ease the stress building there. She swiped at the dirt on her leggings and answered through gritted teeth, “Yes, Mistress.” She turned and stalked out through the breezeway.

  Figuring the best way to handle the situation was to act as if nothing untoward had happened, Kemi reached down and grabbed the edge of the table. “Grab that other end for me, Ailith, and let’s set this right.”

  Ailith, who’d been surprised by the intensity of her rage, grabbed the edge of the table and, together with Kemi, righted it and slid it against the wall.

  Kemi pointed to the various clay jars and metal containers littering the ground. “It don’t look like many broke. Set ‘em back where they were, and if any of th’ herbals broke, let me know, and I’ll order some new from th’ herbalist.” With that, she turned and walked back into the stable.

  Bypassing her office, she continued into the courtyard and then turned left, heading for the Citadel. Sábria or Shirin needed to know what had just happened. Ailith was getting worse, and she didn’t know how much longer it would be before she did something to harm either Emlyn or herself.

  The two women were just coming out of Sábria’s anteroom when they saw Kemi coming up the stairs. Sábria raised her brows. “Problems?”

  “Aye, Milady. Can we go inside and talk?” She looked to her right, where two Blades were speaking with one of the Primes.

  “Of course.” Sábria opened the door and ushered the others inside. She gently shut it behind her and leaned up against it. Tiredness colored her voice when she said, “Report.”

  Kemi started right in. “Well, I’m worried that things are gettin’ worse. Emlyn brought Ailith her midday meal as always and hiked herself up onto me worktable where I keep th’ herbs and th’ oats. Usually, when Ailith snarls, Emlyn just lets it pass. This time she didn’t. I can’t blame her, it irritates me every time Ailith snarls at her, too, but it’s been an everyday thing an’ up to this point, Emlyn’s been really patient, more than I’d ever be, I can tell you that.” She raised her brows, then paced over to the bookcase while she gathered her thoughts. She returned and started in again. “Anyway, Emlyn was a wee bit sarcastic in her response.”

  Sábria crossed her arms. “What did she say?”

  Kemi held up her hands. “Now, Milady, it weren’t Emlyn’s fault. Like I said, she’s been nothing but patient with Ailith, but—” she sighed. “Well, anyway, Ailith said she weren’t hungry, and she didn’t want nothin’ to do with th’ Blades, and she didn’t need their food, and Emlyn asked if eatin’ th’ horses’ carrots was filling her up, or something like that, and she asked whether she were eatin’ th’ horses’ oats and whether she just dove in with her face like th’ horses do. So, that set Ailith off. She threw th’ shovel against th’ wall, and that made a clangin’ racket, and that’s when I started fer th’ door, which I always keep open just in case because I never know when or how Ailith’s gonna react anymore. Before I got to th’ door, I heard a scrapin’, and then a bang, and as I came out th’ door there was Emlyn lyin’ on th’ ground with th’ workbench halfway on top of her. Ailith was standing there with this look on her face, her hands closed into fists like she were ready to fight. Emlyn stood up, and I was thinking she was gonna fight, so I stepped in between ‘em and ordered Emlyn to go to th’ courtyard. I have to give her credit, she could of stayed and fought, I wouldn’t of blamed her, neither, but she did like I asked and left right quick.”

  Shirin put her hands on her hips. “Did you confront Ailith?”

  “Nai, Commander. She looked that scary that I thought it were best just to pretend nothin’ happened. I picked up th’ side of th’ table and asked her to pick up th’ other end, and she did and we set th’ table to rights. I told her to pick up th’ oats and th’ herbs and th’ broken pots, and to let me know which jars broke, and I’d go to th’ herbalist and ask for more. But, Milady, I think it’s gettin’ worse. Do we have any idea about how to stop this happenin’?”

  Sábria rubbed her Temples and shook her head.” Not yet. But I’m expecting a messenger to arrive soon. Hopefully, he’ll carry the miracle we need to stop what’s happening to Ailith.” She looked up at Kemi. “Kemi, I don’t know how you’ve done it this last full moon. I honestly didn’t believe it possible, but you’ve been more patient with that shiv than I could ever have asked of you. Please hang in there with me just a little bit longer. If the message doesn’t come soon, I’ll try to figure out what to do with her.”

  Blushing slightly at the Arch Priestess’ praise, Kemi once again shoved her hands in her pockets. “Honestly, Milady, most of th’ time, she’s a good worker. She’s strong, even though she’s losin’ weight and barely eats, but she works hard. If it weren’t for th’ anger, I’d want ten of her workin’ fer me in th’ stables. I’ll stick with her, Milady, because you believe in her. And I trust you. I just wanted to let you know what happened.”

  Sábria’s heart filled with affection for her normally cantankerous stable master. She pushed off the door and drew the woman into a warm, heartfelt embrace. Letting her go, she took the woman’s head in her hands and kissed her gently on the forehead.

  Kemi’s face turned a bright, bright red, and she shyly looked at the floor. “None ‘a that now, Lady. We’ll get this done.” Without meeting Sábria’s eyes, she let herself out.

  Shirin was grinning from ear to ear as she watched her leave. When the door clicked shut, she indicated it with a lifted chin. “I don’t think that’s ever happened to our irascible horse lady before.”