She smiled as she remembered the hard lesson Lady Sandrin had taught her about entering a secure room without having a means of escape should someone lock her inside. The Lady herself had done just that once when Sábria had come up to secretly watch one of the Blades that she was sweet on spar during sword practice. She’d hung the key back on the hook, and Sandrin, who’d been a strict taskmaster, had slammed the door shut. The sound of the locking mechanism sliding into place had made her physically sick, and the Arch Priestess had made her stay in the cold, dark tower an entire night before sending the Commander at the time, Chela, to let her out. They’d never spoken of it again, but neither had Sábria ever entered a room without having a means of escape.

  She’d need to leave the torch burning in the sconce outside the room tonight, though, because she didn’t want to advertise her presence to those in the yard. It couldn’t be helped unless she wanted to make her way back to her office in complete and utter darkness. Sábria slipped through the door and quickly pulled it shut behind her, hoping no one had noticed the quick flash in the window as she entered.

  As with most towers, the room was circular, with four tall, narrow windows and a door leading out onto the allure—a wide walkway running the circumference of the building. Sábria stepped to the window overlooking the practice yard, which was lit with thirty torches placed around the containing walls. She ignored Sela and the Blades moving through their warm-up drills, looking instead for Ty’s short blonde hair.

  She was surprised she didn’t see her right away until she heard Ursuna’s distinct Trenchian Isle dialect below and to the right of the window.

  “Tell her to take th’ blade, Ailith.”

  When Sábria leaned slightly out of the window, she saw Geller holding out a wooden practice blade. Ailith said something, but Ty stared at the ground, standing still as a statue. Ailith repeated herself, but it wasn’t until Isobel’s stern voice rang out that Ty flinched and glanced over her shoulder at the woman who’d once been her master.

  “When the Prime tells you to do something, Girl, you do it.”

  Sábria didn’t understand the words, but the rough growl of command and the quick way Ty grabbed the sword from Geller’s hand was all the translation she needed.

  Ailith translated as Geller spoke. “Look, Lass. I ken ya were punished in Dreyutha fer even lookin’ at a weapon, but here in th’ Temple, everyone needs to know how to protect themselves until a Blade can get to ya. Understand?”

  When Ailith finished translating, Ty, who was facing the tower, continued to stare at the ground and nodded once.

  Seeing the nod, Geller and then Ailith continued with the instructions. “Now, I need to touch ya to fix yer grip and yer stance and th’ like. Do I have yer permission fer that?”

  The shocked look in Ty’s eyes as they jerked up to stare at the Prime meant she never expected anyone, let alone someone of Ursuna’s rank, to ask her permission for anything. Her breathing became rapid as her gaze shot from Geller to Ailith and then to Isobel. The changes Ty was facing were probably overwhelming. In her world, to touch a weapon meant death, and for people to touch her meant pain.

  Real fear was coming off the woman in waves, and it was all Sábria could do to keep herself from racing downstairs to protect her. But protect her from what? From Ursuna? Ailith or Isobel? It was the sheer lunacy of the idea that kept her rooted in place, watching and waiting to see how this would all play out.

  Ailith saw the fear and looked to Isobel, hoping she knew what had frightened Ty.

  Isobel stepped closer. “Look at me.” When Ty did so, Isobel asked, “Do you not want her to touch you?”

  Ty spoke so softly that Sábria couldn’t hear, but when Ailith interpreted so that Geller could understand the conversation, she spoke loud enough for the Prime, and subsequently Sábria, to hear. “To teach me, ya mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Again, Ailith interpreted Ty’s response, “No. I don’t mind. It’s just so different. No one’s never asked fer me permission to do somethin’ before.”

  Hearing Ailith’s peasant accent translating Ty’s words was strange because Sábria didn’t consider Ty to be a peasant and, therefore, in her mind, at least, always heard her speaking with proper diction. Which, again, was lunacy. Ty had been a slave who probably had worse grammar than Ailith.

  Isobel wasn’t satisfied with Ty’s answer. “So, why are you afraid? You don’t trust us? You think we’ll tell you something is okay to do and then punish you when you do it? Holding that weapon will get you killed in Dreyutha. Are you afraid the same will happen here? Because it won’t. I’m a Lady Knight, and I give you my word, Ty, that we will only speak the truth, and all of us, myself, Ailith, Prime Geller, Commander Shirin, and most especially the Arch Priestess, will protect you from harm.”

  Ty was staring intently into Isobel’s eyes. Her shoulders relaxed, and her breathing slowed. Again, Ailith translated Ty’s words for the Prime. “A slave what worked in th’ master’s kitchens told me he heard th’ master say there be none more honorable than a Dreyuthan Lady Knight. Yer words…well, I believe them.” She glanced at the ground and turned to face Geller.

  Ursuna Geller was many things, but she was rarely patient. Sábria wondered whether that would be a problem with Ty, who seemed shy, frightened, and definitely overwhelmed. Maybe they were pushing her too hard and too fast. She thought she’d talk to Isobel about slowing things down to let Ty adjust to her new circumstances.

  As she watched, though, she was surprised to see Ty listening intently when Geller roughly fixed her grip and kicked Ty’s back foot out to adjust her positioning. Ailith stood off to the side translating, but when Ty flinched after Geller loudly barked a command, Ailith hesitated long enough that Isobel pushed her aside and stepped in. Where Ailith had simply been speaking in Dreyuthan without the same inflection the Prime used, Isobel matched Geller’s intensity perfectly.

  Everyone except Isobel was stunned to see Ty responding to the confidence and authority of both women. At first, Ty was hesitant to swing hard at the Lady Knight, that is, until Geller grabbed the blade from her hands and swung at Isobel with what surely would have been a killing blow if it had been leveled at anyone else.

  Isobel easily blocked the strike and even teased the Prime. “Is that the best you can do, Prime Geller?”

  Geller rolled her eyes and handed the blade back to Ty. “Now, there’s no way in Shael ye’ll ever land a blow on that woman, ya ken?” She waited for the translation, then for Ty to nod, and then looked at Isobel. “What’s yer word fer faster? I don’t want to wait fer th’ blasted translation every time I tell her somethin’.”

  “Dann.”

  “Tell her that faster means dann, and she’ll be havin’ to learn Cibían instead of me learnin’ that blasted tongue tyin’ language ya speak in Dreyutha. Ailith, grab another practice blade and step up next to her. Go through th’ forms so she can follow and then pick it up as I call th’ timin’.”

  Ailith began with the most basic exercise, and Ty followed the movement, getting used to Isobel blocking her at the appropriate point in the swing.

  Geller barked, “Hand,” and gruffly corrected Ty’s grip each time it moved out of true. Anytime Geller thought Ty had the striking sequence down, she ordered her to speed it up by yelling, “Dann!” The first time the wooden blades came together hard enough that the sound carried around the practice yard, Ty flinched and stepped back, fearfully staring into Isobel’s eyes before quickly looking at the ground.

  Ursuna recognized the move for what it was and rewarded Ty with a slap on the arm. “Aye! That’s it, Lass. Make her feel it.”

  Her enthusiasm didn’t need any translation, and with one last glance at Isobel, who also nodded her approval, Ty set herself again, and the sparring continued.

  It seemed to Sábria that the practice had just begun when Geller called an end and left the yard with the rest of Deadnight shift.

  Isobel handed Ailith her sword and told the two younger women to tend to the blades.

  Sábria couldn’t help herself. She stared at Ty as Ailith chatted away while they wiped down the wooden practice blades. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there when she was startled out of her revelry by a quiet rapping on the door.

  Not wanting to let Ty know she’d been watching her, Sábria walked across the darkened room and slipped out the door onto the landing. An apologetic look pinked Sonsa’s cheeks as she waited at attention. “I know you said to stay, My Lady, but Lady Isobel is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She asked me where you were, and I⁠—”

  Sábria took the torch from the sconce, “No, that’s fine, Sonsa. Thank you for bringing her. Shall we go down then?”

  Sonsa stepped back to allow Sábria to precede her.

  Isobel had an amused, knowing look when Sábria stepped off the last step. But, being a high-ranking individual herself, she knew not to tease the Arch Priestess in front of one of her Blades. They walked in companionable silence until they were standing in front of the office door.

  Sábria turned and smiled at Sonsa, who had followed at a respectful distance behind the two women. “I’m done for the night here, Sonsa. You’re free to go.”

  As they watched Sonsa head for the stairs, Sábria realized what had struck her as strange when Shirin had first called her in. “Sonsa, I’m curious. Why are you assigned to stand office guard tonight?” Since Sonsa was the Temple cryptographer, standing guard wasn’t part of her regular duties.

  “Everyone’s schedule has been adjusted because of Festival, My Lady. With so many new Blades in the Temple, the Commander said she didn’t know everyone’s abilities and wanted someone she knew could handle a blade standing guard when you returned.” She blushed a little, “Not that she’s worried any of the new people can’t handle a blade or…” Her blush intensified, “or that there’s any reason you’d need…”

  Sábria stopped her before she could dig herself any deeper. “I understand. Thank you. I trust your abilities, too, and feel very comfortable with you as one of my personal guard, even if it’s only temporary.”

  “Thank you, My Lady.” She waited to see whether Sábria had any more questions.

  Being preoccupied, Sábria didn’t notice her hesitation and walked into the anteroom of her office.

  Isobel saw Sonsa waiting, though. “Dismissed.”

  Most people in the Temple were more than a little intimidated by the Lady Knight, including Sonsa, who saluted and hurried down the stairs.

  The bells in the tower pealed ten times as Sábria returned with an armful of parchment. “Are you ready? You’re welcome to stay with me in my suites.”

  “I’m welcome, or you’d like me to?”

  “I’d love you to.”

  “Then, by all means, after you, My Lady.”

  CHAPTER 24

  In the morning, Sábria awoke early and went for a run in the Bladefire Circle before touring the city with Shirin and the Blades of the Dawning shift. As much as she enjoyed being on the streets again, Sábria had reports waiting for her on her desk and reluctantly turned back toward the Temple just after midday. Shirin chose to remain in the city, however, because they all felt an undercurrent of unrest moving through the nobility.

  As Sábria and her guards walked through the inner gate into the courtyard, a blonde head at one of the outdoor tables caught her eye. “Oh no.” Ty was seated next to Ailith and across from Arlin. Those two together could mean nothing but trouble.

  As she walked closer, it became apparent Arlin was teaching Ty one of the more popular card games played by nobles and merchants in the higher-priced gambling houses in the Clayborn District. Usually, the cards were held in the player’s hand, but both Ty and Arlin had theirs spread out on the table in front of them.

  Once again, Ailith was serving as interpreter.

  Sábria hesitated. She’d only spoken to Ty briefly from the balcony of the townhouse. When she thought of walking over to see what was happening, she had difficulty swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, and her heart began beating so rapidly that her chest actually hurt. However, she needed to see what Arlin was up to, so she licked suddenly dry lips and strode over to the table. Focusing on Arlin instead of the other two, she stopped and rested a hand on her hip. “Arlin, what are you doing?”

  At the sound of her voice, both Ty and Ailith rose. After stepping over the bench, Ty went down on one knee, but Ailith quickly pulled her up. Since kneeling wasn’t appropriate, Ty bowed instead, clasping her hands so tightly in front of her chest that her fingers turned white. When she straightened, she froze with her gaze riveted on the ground at their feet.

  Arlin grinned up at the Arch Priestess while still seated on her bench. “What am I doing? Are you kidding me? Have you seen her deadpan expression, My Lady? We’re going to make a killing at The Scarlet Quill. She’s a natural.”

  Sábria’s cocked head and steely-eyed glare spoke volumes. “We’ll talk about that later. For right now, though, what did I say you needed to do whenever I come near?”

  There were several Blades at the other tables, and Arlin pointedly looked at each one. “None of them stood when you walked up, My Lady, and I assumed you’d changed your policy.”

  “Arlin?”

  “Yes, My Lady?”

  “I suggest you stand before I beat you so hard it will scare Ty all the way back to Dreyutha.”

  Arlin’s good-natured, lopsided grin appeared, “And how do you know I wouldn’t secretly enjoy it?”

  Ailith quietly translated, and after hearing Arlin’s blatant disrespect for the Arch Priestess, Ty gasped and took a frightened step back.

  Sábria looked up at the sky. “Ailith, you don’t need to translate everything Arlin says.”

  It was obvious by the way Ailith sucked her lips into her mouth and pinched the bridge of her nose that she was trying not to laugh. “Yes, Milady.” She pulled Ty forward again and joined her in staring at her boots.

  When Sábria’s angry glare returned to Arlin, the warrior held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine.” She stood and bowed low. “But once Ty learns the game and the few…tricks I can teach her—” she held up a finger before Sábria could protest the last part, “and no, it’s not cheating. I never cheat. But once she learns from the master,” she indicated herself by placing the fingers of one hand on her chest, “then she’ll never have to rely on anyone else to pay her way. Win, win, I’d say.”

  “And what do you get out of it?”

  “My Lady, I’m hurt. I’m teaching her out of the goodness of my heart, well, and twenty-five percent until she’s good enough to play on her own, of course.”

  Sábria growled quietly and then motioned to Ailith. “Tell Ty that you can all be seated.” She wanted more than anything just to sit and talk to Ty, but her nerves got the better of her, and she left to get herself food from the serving tables inside. As she spooned a generous portion of potato stew onto her plate, she silently argued with herself about what an absolute coward she was being. She was the Arch Priestess of the Daughters of Elyon, for Goddess’ sake, and here she was, hiding in the dining hall like a fifteen-turn schoolgirl.

  Feeling foolish, she forced herself to return to the table with a plateful of food. Ty began to rise, and Sábria motioned her down. “No.” An unaccustomed shyness came over her, and her words stuck in her throat. She could have kissed Ailith when she explained what Sábria was having difficulty saying.

  “Normally, ya don’t stand at th’ tables and such, especially if ya already gave yer respects.”

  Trying to appear as normal as possible, Sábria placed her plate and mug of ale next to Arlin and sat beside her on the bench. She sat and listened for a while, trying but failing to force herself to look up at Ty, who’d grown suddenly shy as well. Even though Sábria had no intention of allowing Ty to go gambling with Arlin, at least not until Ty was comfortable with the language and knew how to survive in Sarlogne, she was impressed with how patient and gentle Arlin was with her.

  It wasn’t long before Isobel set her plate and mug next to Sábria’s and sat down. Sweat beaded her brow, and heat poured off her body. She drained her mug in one long drink and set it on the table.

  Both Ailith and Ty automatically rose to get her some more. Ailith sat again. “Go ahead.”

  Without looking at either Sábria or Isobel, Ty took Isobel’s mug and saw that Sábria’s was also almost empty. She quickly looked into Sábria’s eyes and then averted her gaze.

  Ailith nudged Ty and gently said in Dreyuthan, “Go on, try it. But ya gotta look at her. It’s polite, like.”

  With what seemed to be a firm resolve hidden beneath the frightened demeanor, Ty swallowed and looked Sábria in the eyes. She picked up the mug and, in heavily accented Cibían, asked, “Milady?”

  Shocked, Sábria simply stared at her. It was the heel of Isobel’s boot digging into one toe while Arlin’s dug into the other that helped her find her voice. “Y…yes. Yes, please. That was very good, Ty.” She managed a smile, barely breathing as she held onto Ty’s gaze like a drowning woman clutching a piece of floating driftwood.

  Ty blushed when Ailith translated, and everyone at the table was silent as the two women stared at one another. It was Ty who blinked and nodded before walking into the dining hall.

  Wanting to give Sábria a moment to process the interaction, short as it was, Isobel picked up her fork and shook her head. “I was sparring with Prime Geller. That woman should have been a Lady Knight. I’ve only seen a few swordsmen or women who could best her.”

  Ailith grinned impishly. “Did you?”

  The glare Isobel turned on her wasn’t a friendly one.

  “Guess not.” Ailith’s grin widened as she ducked her head.

  Ty returned with the two mugs, placed them on the table, and then went back into the dining hall. When she reappeared, she expertly held four plates in her hands, with a fifth resting on her forearm. She quietly spoke to Isobel. “I know you like sweets, My Lady. I tried the cobbler. It’s delicious.” She set one of the plates in front of Isobel, and then once more looked Sábria in the eye. In halting Cibían, she said, “Sweets, Milady?”