Shirin, Killian, Emlyn, Marne, and Terrowyn immediately formed a protective circle around Sábria and Jestína, making sure they’d be the ones hit with flying objects and not their two charges.

  Geller, whose eyes shone with fierce protectiveness, looked at the Commander for orders.

  Shirin pointed at the group, held her hands above her head, and crossed them at her wrists, telling Geller to arrest the lot.

  Geller immediately pushed into the crowd, punching and elbowing anyone who didn’t move out of her way fast enough.

  The seven had their attention focused on the prisoner’s wife and only registered an angry Prime Geller moments before she grabbed the ringleader by the hair and bashed his forehead into a block wall. He sank to his knees and then onto his face.

  A large pidge with more muscle than brains jumped onto Geller’s back, thinking she could overpower the smaller Blade with her size alone.

  The Temple Magistrate gasped at the size disparity and covered her mouth with her hands, but Sábria merely hissed, narrowed her eyes, and shook her head. “Oh, that’s not good. She really shouldn’t have done that.”

  Geller trapped the pidge’s arm beneath her armpit with one hand, dipped the opposite shoulder, and, using her strong legs as pistons, sprang up and spun in a circle, sending the woman flying up and over her head.

  Without missing a beat, she used the edge of her free hand to smash upwards into the bone above the elbow of the trapped arm. The resounding crack as the upper arm broke in two silenced the onlookers who stood back to give the Prime room to work. Releasing the arm while the pidge was still in the air, Geller grabbed the woman’s hair and brought her face down onto her raised knee.

  The Magistrate blinked several times. “Great Goddess.”

  Sábria’s only comment was, “Uh huh.”

  A man yelled, “That’s me wife, ya fowkin’ dog-faced bitch.” He and another lad rushed the Prime, who leapt into the air and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of the younger man’s neck. His knees buckled, and he slowly sank like a chunk of cheese into a bowl of potato soup.

  The big man’s meaty fist flew towards Geller’s head, and it would have done major damage if the head had been there when he’d finished his swing. Instead, as his momentum pulled him forward, Geller, who’d ducked to avoid the blow, took advantage of her crouch and rammed one fist up into the man’s balls, grabbed them between fingers made strong by years of blade and staff work, and rolled, twisting the genitals into a tight knot.

  The man squealed and joined the other three on the ground in an unconscious heap.

  Geller spun in a circle, looking for the remaining four. They’d gone down to their knees with their fingers interlaced on the top of their heads. The Prime straightened and shouted, “Sela.”

  The Senior Guardian pushed her way through the onlookers. “Prime?”

  “The Commander wants these seven arrested.”

  Sela looked at the pile of humanity on the ground and at the three men and one woman on their knees, shaking in terror that they might be next. With a tinge of amusement in her voice, she said, “Yes, Prime.” She then turned to the line of Blades. “Fifteen Blades to me!”

  Fifteen Blades broke out of formation and trotted over.

  When Geller returned to her position at the front of her column, Sábria put her hand on Jestína’s shoulder. “Shall we go?” She tried not to smile at the shocked look on the Magistrate’s face as she pushed her friend forward until the woman began to walk on her own.

  “Are all your Blades that good?”

  Grinning, Sábria shook her head. “I wish. Ursuna is in charge of training at the Temple and is far, far better than most. She’s an excellent but harsh taskmaster who understands that she can’t afford to be soft when she trains. I sometimes forget you don’t get to see the Blades in action. You’re stuck sitting in your courtroom listening to them tell you something like, ‘I apprehended the woman who beat her children,’ when quite often, they leave out the salient parts, such as, ‘The woman jumped on my back, so I broke her arm in two and then smashed her nose over my knee to get her off of me.’”

  “Will that woman live?”

  “Probably. But if not, she never should have attacked one of Elyon’s Blades.”

  Jestína, who’d never been much of a fighter, glanced at Sábria and, for the first time, really looked at her. Yes, she was the Arch Priestess, but her arms, chest, and legs were muscled, and her hands rough with calluses. She turned to look at the Commander and saw the same.

  Killian and Emlyn were still standing between her and the prisoner’s family, and she looked at them as well. Killian, too, was muscular, but although Emlyn was fit, her body hadn’t yet matured into what it would one day become.

  Quietly pensive for about a block, Jestína stared at the backs of the Blades restraining the onlookers and shook her head. “I’ve been your Magistrate for thirty years now. The Temple’s High Magistrate for twenty, and yet I feel as though I’m seeing you and your Blades for the first time.” She caught and held Sábria’s gaze. “I mean, really seeing you for the warriors you are.”

  She stopped in the middle of the street, and out of necessity, everyone stopped with her.

  With only a trace of irritation sounding in her voice, Shirin shouted to Calit, who had her back to them. “Hold.”

  Calit repeated the order and everyone came to a halt.

  Oblivious to Shirin’s order, Jestína continued speaking to Sábria. “Every turn, there are faces missing from my courtroom, Blades who will never give testimony before me again. While I’ve grieved with you,” she shook her head, “not being a warrior myself, I didn’t viscerally understand the violent world you and your people live and work in.”

  Once again, Sábria put her hand on Jestína’s back and pushed her gently forward.

  Shirin nodded to Calit, who shouted, “Forward.”

  When they started walking, Sábria considered her words. This was a woman who’d seen the Blades bring in rapists, murderers, child killers, and slavers. Yet it was only after seeing Geller’s fighting skills that she really understood what the Blades go through every day, all candlemarks of the day and night. She wondered whether other people were as blind to the daily physical and emotional toll their work exacted on her people.

  After dropping the Magistrate at the Annex, Sábria and most of her Blades returned to the Temple. The majority continued on down the street while Sábria, Shirin, and the honor guard went by way of the tunnel. When they emerged, Sábria felt emotionally wrung out by the day’s events. She excused herself and went in to take a long, relaxing bath before climbing under her covers for the night.

  CHAPTER 28

  Since Sábria had needed to resume her duties, they’d moved Ailith back into the infirmary. The day following the sentencing, when Sábria went to check on her two injured warriors, she stopped in Haria’s office to get her report on their condition. The healer, who was sitting in an armchair reading a book on herbal medicine, looked up. Closing the book, she rose and indicated the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. Tea?”

  “No, thank you. This isn’t exactly a social visit. After yesterday, I have a lot to catch up on. I really only came to ask about Tanna and Ailith.”

  Haria sat and patted the sofa. “We can at least be comfortable.” When Sábria joined her, the healer shifted so they were facing each other. “Well, Tanna awoke in the middle of the night, confused and in a lot of pain. The good news is that I was able to ascertain there wasn’t any permanent damage to the muscles in her right forearm. That blasted Lady Knight knew exactly where to cut to inflict the most damage. I’m afraid she’ll be off for at least three full moons while we work to restore strength to that arm.”

  “And the stomach wound?”

  “That I already knew would heal. Unfortunately, that’s what’s giving her the most pain. She awoke screaming, and that tore the stitches away from the flesh that had already begun the healing process. Faylin managed to quiet her long enough to get the caneleid potion into her and then we were able to clean and restitch the wound. We’ll make sure to keep her heavily dosed until I’m sure she won’t rip open the sutures again.”

  “How’s Faylin holding up?”

  “I think as long as she knows Tanna will recover, she’ll be fine.”

  “Can she go back on shift? Deadnight can’t afford to be down a Blade for much longer.”

  Haria nodded, “Most definitely, especially since Tanna will be unconscious while she’s working.”

  “And Ailith?”

  Sighing, Haria rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That’s the most stubborn, infuriating young woman I’ve come across in a long while. Wants out of bed and back in training yesterday. Unfortunately, that hoof hit her harder than I originally thought. From what we’ve been told, the hoof initially flew past her head and hit the wall behind her—thank God it missed, or we’d be sending her on her final journey. What we can see, though, from the angle and color variation of the bruising is that the horseshoe did come into contact with her head while the horse was retracting its leg. As you know, those muscles are powerful, and the metal slammed into her right behind her ear. Could have easily killed her then, too.”

  “And how much longer does she have to be down? She’s already missed a lot of training time and—”

  “And if she’s punched in the head in that same spot while she’s out on the streets, it could cause a brain bleed, and we could still lose her.” Haria shook her head. “I don’t care how far behind she is in her training. Another sevenday, at least, and I’ll reassess then to see if she can start back. No running, no weapon practice, no calisthenics. She can leave the infirmary if you can guarantee none of that will happen. And I expect to see her every evening before she goes to bed.”

  Sábria rubbed her eyes. “Have you told her that?”

  “Not that she can leave, but I’ve told her she can’t go back on shift until I release her.”

  “And she said?”

  “I don’t use such crude language. Suffice it to say she was not pleased.”

  Chuckling at the healer’s prim tone, Sábria rose. “I’ll have a chat with her about the language she uses around you and the other healers.”

  “Please do.” Haria rose as well. “Do you want me to accompany you?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. You can return to your exciting tome on…” she glanced at the cover of the book, “…herbal remedies of the Trenchian Isles.” Smiling, Sábria let herself out of the office and walked the short way to the side door leading into the chamber containing the patient alcoves.

  This was one of three cavernous chambers that branched off the main hallway of the Healer’s Hall. The room’s design was unique in that thirty alcove beds had been built into three of the chamber’s walls. The space where the fourth wall should have been opened onto the hallway unless there was a need for more privacy, in which case the healers could slide huge oaken, floor-to-ceiling doors from between the walls and fasten them to one another in the middle of the space. Each bed had two walls running perpendicular to them, creating a small personal room for its occupant. The fourth side of each rectangular space had a curtain that could be left opened or closed, depending on the need.

  Not wanting to wake her shiv if she was sleeping, Sábria quietly stepped to Ailith’s alcove and peeked around the closed curtain. Ailith was sitting up in bed studying her leather-bound book. Sábria called out, “Hello. Can I come in?”

  Ailith shoved the book beneath the covers. “Aye.”

  Watching the book disappear, Sábria walked over and pointed to the bed. “May I?”

  “Of course. Ya don’t need to ask.”

  “Thank you.” Sábria sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. I’d be back to work if th’ poxy healer would let me get outta here.”

  “She’s the Master Healer of this Temple, and I’d better not hear you refer to her like that again. And along those lines, if I hear you’ve cursed around her again or around any of the healers, I swear, Ailith, I’ll take my whip to your legs while you’re laying here.” She raised her brows and used something she’d heard Isobel say. “You’d better think very carefully the next time you speak to her if you think I won’t.”

  As an answer, Ailith crossed her arms and scowled. “I’ve had worse hurt to me head slippin’ in th’ mud. I don’t need to be here.”

  “I’ll make you a deal. But you have to give me your word that you’ll obey my conditions.”

  Ailith looked sideways at the Priestess, not sure she liked the idea of being backed into a corner. “What conditions?”

  “I’ll allow you to leave the infirmary on the condition that,” she held up one finger, “one, you don’t go back to work.” A second finger joined the first, “Two, absolutely no weapons practice.” Ignoring the scowl that was intensifying with every word, Sábria held up a third finger. “And three, no running or any kind of strenuous exercise.”

  “What th’ fowk? What am I supposed to do then? Lay here and pick me nose?” She angrily slid down and turned to the wall, giving Sábria a perfect shot at her back, which she smacked hard. Ailith twisted around and glared.

  “Do you remember Commander Shirin telling you not to swear around me?”

  The eyes narrowed, and Ailith crossed her arms. “Aye. Sorry. I just don’t know why th’ Blades make such a fuss about gettin’ hurt. Fer fowk’s sake, er sorry again, but ya let Lady Isobel beat th’ crap outta me, didn’t ya, and I didn’t need no healer.”

  Closing her eyes and deciding to let things slide for now, Sábria breathed deeply and changed the subject. She opened her eyes and forced a smile. “I’d like to know why you always hide your book when I show up.”

  The question caught Ailith off guard. Pursing her lips, she lifted a shoulder and looked down at her hands. “It’s just a stupid kiddie book. Not somethin’ I want people to see.”

  “Not even me?”

  Her brows descended. “No. It’s…well, it’s got stupid ducks and cats and fowkin’ boats and things. No somethin’ a full-grown Blade should be cartin’ around.”

  Sábria kept a straight face as she pulled the book from beneath the covers and climbed in next to her. “Do you think I’d laugh at you?”

  “No. But, well, no, ya wouldn’t laugh. But….” She watched as Sábria opened to the first page.

  “But?”

  “Well, I don’t want ya thinkin’ I’m a bairn, is all.”

  Sábria couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud, put her arm around Ailith’s shoulders, and, because of the head wound, tapped her ever so gently on her forehead. “You’re about as much of a bairn as a raging bull is a cute little boy calf. You can wipe that worry right out of your head.” She retrieved her arm and the book she’d dropped onto her lap and opened it. “Now, what have you learned so far?”

  When Shirin found them a candlemark later with their noses in Ailith’s book, she shook her head. “I should have known. I’ve been looking for you for the last half candlemark. Have either of you eaten yet?”

  Sábria shut the book and handed it to Ailith before sliding off the bed. “I haven’t.”

  Ailith swung her legs over the side, more than ready to get out of the infirmary.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Ya said I could leave.”

  “You haven’t given me your word yet, so you’re going nowhere.” When Ailith growled quietly to herself, Sábria added, “Did you’d think I’d forget?”

  “Okay. I give ya me word I won’t go back on shift until th’ healer says I can.”

  Shirin sniffed, “That’s a given.”

  Ailith raised her brows. “Good enough?” When Sábria turned to go, Ailith sighed. “Okay, okay. I won’t use any weapons or run, or…well, I think that was it. I give ya me word. Fer how long, anyway?”

  “At least a sevenday.”

  “What? What’s that fowkin’ pox—” When Sábria turned and glared, Ailith amended, “I mean, what’s that healer thinkin’? That I’m some mewlin’ infant what can’t take a knock to th’ head? Weren’t nothin’. I gotta get back on shift, or I’m gonna be in trainin’ until I’m as old as her.” She indicated Shirin with a lifted chin.

  “I’m not all that old, youngling.”

  Ailith snorted, “Yer as old as dirt.” She managed to hide her grin while pretending not to notice the flash that sparked in Shirin’s eyes. “Honestly, Milady. I don’t need to stay down fer that long.”

  “You’ll do as Master Haria says. Oh, and you’ll report to her every day before the evening meal so she can check your progress.” Sábria turned to go and playfully slapped Shirin on the shoulder, “Come on, old lady. Let’s see if we can find your cane somewhere outside.”

  They heard a loud commotion out in the hallway, and then Terrowyn’s agitated voice rose above the rest. “What do you mean, she’s gone? How can she be gone? You were supposed to be dosing her, you skut brained piece of shit!”

  Sábria and Shirin hurried into the hall where it looked like Terrowyn was pulling her hair out by the roots. She spun in a circle and then started for Kara, who, miraculously, stood her ground.

  Not many hardened nobs could lay claim to standing up to Keavey Terrowyn, but plump little Kara stood with her arms crossed and her legs shoulder-width apart. “Don’t you dare call me that, Keavey Terrowyn.” Her stiff finger poked into Terro’s face. “We don’t have the people we need to be able to babysit your skelli every candlemark of every day!”

  “All ya had to do was dose her like ya was supposed to do. You couldn’t even do that right, ya filthy—”

  Sábria’s voice was cold and hard and held every bit of the power of the Arch Priestess when she spoke. “Keavey Terrowyn! Pull yourself together.”

  Terrowyn turned and started for Sábria with fire in her eyes. “Ghost is gone, and this worthless—” She angrily flung her arm behind her to indicate Kara.