Ailith beamed. “I taught her that. Thought sweets were one of th’ more important words to learn, aye?”

  The affectionate look Sábria turned on Ailith transformed her face from anxious and stressed to her usual relaxed self with her soft, blue eyes and half-smile that always looked like she was ready to hear a good story or joke. Without thinking, she turned that same look on Ty and nodded. “Yes, please. I think I have more of a sweet tooth than even Lady Isobel.”

  The effect Sábria’s changed countenance had on Ty was telling. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled shyly as she placed a plate near Sábria’s mug. She set one in front of Ailith and Arlin and kept the last plate for herself. Sitting with people of rank or eating in the same room had been forbidden to slaves in Dreyutha, and even traveling with Lady Isobel, she’d taken her food away from where the Lady Knight had eaten her meals.

  Ailith, who’d spent a lot of time with Ty and had gotten excellent at reading her, touched her elbow. “Ya can sit here and eat, Ty. It’s okay.”

  Ty glanced at Isobel, who nodded.

  Once she was seated and everyone had begun eating, Isobel leaned around Sábria and spoke to Arlin. “You’re not a Blade, Lady Dumerier, and yet you sit here and eat as though you are.”

  The timing couldn’t have been any worse since Arlin had just slipped a forkful of cobbler into her mouth. This time, while she chewed and swallowed, it was Sábria who dug her heel into Arlin’s booted toe. No one had mentioned the two women had met, and Sábria knew perfectly well how much Arlin enjoyed irritating the nobility. Because of that, she was wary when Arlin was perfectly well-mannered in her response.

  “Please call me Arlin, Lady Isobel.”

  “Arlin, then. Are you a special friend of the Temple?”

  Sábria placed a hand on Arlin’s forearm and squeezed. “She is. I don’t know if you heard about the Kibrunian Duke who kidnapped one of my shivs, Emlyn. She was badly hurt during the kidnapping, and Ailith, who had seen Emlyn get hit on the head, climbed into the box they’d thrown Emlyn in and then helped her escape when they were more than a day’s ride from here. Emlyn was so badly injured that Ailith couldn’t leave her. She ran into Arlin and Shaya, a woman who has since become one of my shivs, and Arlin rode to Sarlogne to bring me Ailith’s message. She returned with us to help rescue them.”

  Isobel looked deeply into Arlin’s eyes. “Then, Arlin, I, too, am deeply in your debt as Ailith is very special to me. Please, call me Isobel.”

  Sábria was more than a little shocked when Arlin bowed her head and placed a hand over her heart.

  “I’m honored, Isobel. Thank you.”

  Sábria worked to keep herself from placing her hand on Arlin’s brow to see if she was running a fever. As Sábria stared at the warrior, waiting for the other shoe to drop, Arlin innocently ate another bite of cobbler and raised her brows as if asking what Sábria’s problem was.

  It hadn’t taken Isobel long to finish her dessert, and she stood and picked up her plate. “That tasted like a second portion is in order. Anyone else?” Ty rose and tried to take the plate from Isobel so she could fetch her a second helping. “No, you stay here and enjoy your sweet pie.” Isobel left the table with requests for seconds from Sábria and Ailith.

  Sábria turned to Arlin with a suspicious look in her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be that polite around anyone of the noble classes, Arlin. Why now?”

  Arlin shrugged and chuckled, “Honestly? She scares the sweiven shite out of me, My Lady. She’s known in Dreyutha as Senga Bayé or the Bloodthirsty Jackal. I would willingly lay down and roll in cow dung before I’d insult her.”

  “And yet you continue to insult me?”

  Arlin’s white teeth stood out against her dark skin. “That’s just plain fun.” She shrugged, “Although, even though I joke about it, I have to say, you’re a bit too heavy-handed with a whip for my taste.” With a wink at Ty, who responded to Ailith’s interpretation with wide, worried eyes, Arlin ate another bite of cobbler and watched Sábria out of the corner of her eye. Sábria finished her last bite just as Isobel returned with seconds for everyone.

  Not daring to copy Ty’s expert plate-handling skills, Isobel had conscripted Prita, one of the youngest Blades, into carrying three of the five plates. As she clambered over the bench and sat, Isobel pointed to where Prita should place the extras. Savoring her first bite as though she hadn’t already eaten an entire portion, Isobel looked around hopefully. “I brought seconds for all of us, and if any of you don’t want yours, I’ll be happy to eat it for you.”

  It was at that moment they began hearing a distant clanging from the watch bell on the Sacred Way. The watch bell was a massive bell that hung high in the belfry of a Temple tower built in the middle of town. It rang with its own distinctive, base tone and was only rung during emergencies. Everyone in the courtyard froze while they listened for the sequence telling them where the trouble was. When she had it, Sábria stood and shouted, “The Codpiece. Move people.”

  She quickly surveyed the Blades in the yard, and when she didn’t see any of her sub-commanders, she called out to Geller, who’d just sprinted in from the training yard, “Geller, you’re in charge. Organize and run!” The dormitory looked like a kicked hive with hundreds of bees swarming out the door. Sábria shouted over the din, “Isobel, Killian, Terro, you and your shivs to me.” Instead of running for the gate, Sábria turned and sprinted toward the breezeway leading into the stables.

  As soon as the alarm sounded, every ostler in the Temple immediately raced to the stables, grabbed horses, and began saddling them. There was a standing order that during any emergency, Shadowfoot would be saddled and ready in case Sábria chose to ride into the city rather than run with the rest of the Blades.

  The stablemaster, Kemi Leernan, had just pulled Shadowfoot from her stall when she saw Isobel fast on the Arch Priestess’s heels. Since she was one of the only people who could handle a battlemare, she threw the lead rope to one of the ostlers, ready to run and get Trax for the Lady Knight.

  Isobel took care of it first by calling out, “Trax. Negai!” She didn’t know what was happening, but she wasn’t going to be left out of whatever emergency the Blades were responding to.

  Within seconds, two massive hind feet destroyed the wooden gate to the mare’s stall. Splinters went flying, followed by a black, muscular mare who pounded down the aisle toward her master. Goddess help any hapless handler or rider standing in the way. Luckily, everyone was aware of the single-minded devotion of a battlemare and had moved out of the way when they’d heard Isobel’s shouted command.

  Isobel was standing in the aisle holding her saddle and pad when Trax slid to a stop in front of her. She slung the pad over the battlemare’s withers, and immediately followed with the saddle, and pulled the cinch tight. One of the stable hands ran up with Isobel’s bridle, well away from Trax’s hooves and teeth. Isobel grabbed it from her, and the woman ran off to help with the rest of the horses.

  Before too much time passed, six riders mounted and galloped out of the gates. The rumbling and clanking of the portcullis behind them told everyone that the heavy metal gate was being lowered into place. They quickly overtook the hundreds of Blades who’d swarmed from the Temple. Those were joined by Blades from across the city, whose black tunics filled every major street and back alley as they raced toward the Codpiece.

  The deep, resonant tones of the watch bell continued reverberating through the air. The bell’s large size amplified the sound's intensity, and the message's rhythmic pattern never varied. Emergency. Riot. Codpiece. All hands. Emergency. Riot. Codpiece. All hands.

  Blades called ahead, shouting that an opening was needed for the Arch Priestess and her guards. Immediately, warriors moved to the right and left, opening a path Sábria and her people could race through. As they neared the Central Square of the Codpiece, they heard a crowd roaring and metal clanging against metal as Blades fought to gain control of the situation.

  They rounded a corner to find utter chaos. Foreign and domestic nobles on horseback had overrun the Codpiece, expecting the fifty or so Blades that usually patrolled there to buckle under the onslaught of over two hundred noblemen. The Blades were not only holding their own, but they’d been joined by Codpiece peasants and Lower Quarter merchants fighting alongside them with whatever implements they had at hand.

  Sábria plowed into one nobleman’s horse with her own, unseating the unsuspecting man who fell headfirst into the crowd. She and her guards were immediately swallowed up by mounted nobles who bared their teeth and came at them with killing rage in their eyes. Clearly, the men hadn’t expected this kind of opposition, and having to defend themselves against mere peasants and merchants enraged them.

  Shirin stood atop one of the largest fracks alongside Prime Osstendler, fighting off nobles who were holding them back while others ran into the sewers to capture and carry off skellis and nints.

  As Ailith slipped the tip of her sword under one nobleman’s knuckle guard and sent his sword flying, she turned to see a man come stumbling out of the frack holding a bloody arm. She bared her teeth, silently cheering for whatever Skelli had sliced him up good. Then, two more came running out, each with a small child under his arm.

  The noblemen’s eyes widened when they realized reinforcements had come. As they leapt onto their horses, Ailith yelled, “Milady!”

  Sábria was preoccupied parrying a blow from one of the mounted swordsmen, but Isobel had just run a man through and looked toward Ailith, who pointed at the two riders and their captured skellis.

  Isobel shouted at Ailith, “Stand firm! Guard Sábria.” She pointed Trax at the two mounted men, and the mare leapt toward them, ramming into the first horse’s shoulders and then swinging around and kicking the second horse in the chest. Seeing what Isobel intended, one skelli slid down as far as she could, ducking low as the sharpened blade swung forward.

  Isobel was expert enough with her blade that she wouldn’t have injured the child, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. She sliced through the man’s neck before he could regain his balance, and when he fell from his horse, the skelli jumped down and ran for the rooftops.

  The girl managed to dodge the horse’s hooves but tripped over a nobleman’s leg as he stepped sideways to attack a Blade. She landed face first but quickly raised her head, trying to find an escape route.

  A shouted, “Here, Girl!” came from near the opening to an alley. Arlin stood with her back to the wall.

  When the girl saw the warrior gesturing to her, she pushed off the ground, shoved past more bodies, and ran toward her savior with single-minded determination.

  Arlin sheathed her sword and clasped her hands together. The skelli leapt up, and when she put her foot into Arlin’s hands, Arlin catapulted her up high enough that she could grab the roof's edge and scramble over.

  Arlin retrieved her sword and fought her way forward until she stood back-to-back with Shirin.

  Osstendler saw one of her newer Blades struggling with a Tuvistian knight who fought with a sword in one hand and a long dagger that doubled as a very short sword in the other. She leapt off the frack and stepped between the Blade and the knight.

  As she’d been trained, the younger Blade turned her back to her Prime and fought off attacks from the rear.

  In the meantime, Isobel’s battlemare was blocking the second kidnapper’s escape. Each time the nobleman spurred his horse on, Trax reared onto her hind legs and bounded forward, kicking out with her front hooves until the other horse backed away in fear.

  One of the man’s captives had managed to wriggle free, but he was holding the other skelli in front of himself as a shield, preventing the Lady Knight from engaging him with her sword. The second time Trax landed on all fours, Isobel pulled the throwing knife she kept tucked into her left boot.

  The man bared his teeth and roared, “You dare threaten a Kibrunian Count over a filthy gutter rat? I’ll have your head, Dreyuthan b—” His curse broke off the instant her knife entered his throat. His eyes bulged, and he dropped the skelli and grabbed at his throat in a vain attempt to save himself. Both he and the skelli dropped to the ground. Before the skelli ran to the relative safety of the frack, she turned and planted a vicious kick to the side of his head.

  Isobel caught Shirin’s shocked expression as the Commander looked on from where she stood on top of the square block covering the frack. Making an offhand throw across her body with such precision was unheard of, and Isobel merely nodded once and pushed her way back into the fray. There was no time to talk as Shirin and Arlin were attacked by several nobles who’d abandoned their horses and thought they had the upper hand since they easily outnumbered the women two to one.

  Ailith caught a strange movement out of the corner of her eye, and when she stole a quick look, she realized that what she’d seen was Ghost jumping down from the roof of a nearby building. The skelli was now standing in front of the frack holding a knife as though she intended to protect the opening all by herself. Again, Ailith shouted and pointed, “Milady Isobel! Ghost!”

  Hearing Ghost’s name, Terro jerked around and saw her stubborn little skelli fiercely defending the frack. Although it was the hardest decision she’d ever made, she had too much discipline to ride to save the girl. Her duty was to protect the Arch Priestess instead of the child. She jerked her attention away just in time to lift her blade and parry a thrust from a nobleman’s sword while simultaneously cursing her inattention, knowing distractions like that could cost not only her own life but Sábria’s as well.

  Unsure of why Ailith was pointing, Isobel, who’d been making her way back to them, kneed Trax, ordering him to rear and pivot on his hind legs. She was ready for anything but cursed aloud when she saw the skelli everyone at the Temple had adopted, dodging in and out and swiping her blade at the legs of noblemen fighting around her. “Damn ro múgromin’….

  Shoving Trax through the crowd, Isobel rode up behind Ghost, and when the skelli raised her knife to swipe at someone, Isobel grabbed her by the wrist, disarmed her, and slung her across Trax’s withers. After stuffing Ghost’s blade into her boot, she pushed through the roiling crowd a second time and moved her mare up next to Terro’s gelding. Terro had just disarmed her opponent, so Isobel grabbed Ghost’s tunic and the back of her trews and, with a second snarled curse, threw her onto the withers of Terro’s mount.

  As more and more Blades poured into the area, the noblemen began to panic. They turned their horses toward what they thought was safety and kicked them into a full retreat.

  Sábria shouted, “Surround and capture!”

  All of the sub-commanders and Primes took up the call, and the Blades who weren’t fighting, pulled back and formed a human cordon around the area several Blades deep.

  The noblemen charged at the line, thinking the women on the ground were no match for a mounted opponent. Unfortunately for them, all Blades were trained to fight armed riders from the ground, and after the first few noblemen had their legs sliced open or, in one poor sod’s case, lost his life when Geller leapt up behind him and pulled her knife across his throat, they sheathed their swords and surrendered.

  Sábria shouted at Osstendler. “Traya. Take five squads to the rest of the Codpiece and help the Blades fighting there get the noblemen under control.”

  Osstendler immediately shouted to the squads who were to accompany her and raced away with fifty Blades close on her heels.

  When the fighting stopped, Ailith sidepassed her horse close to Shadowfoot. “Can I go down into th’ frack, Milady? To check th’—”

  Sábria’s adrenaline was up, and her eyes blazed with an intense blue fire when she shouted, “Maintain your position, Shiv, and shut your mouth!”

  Ailith quickly brought her fist to her chest and backed her horse away.

  Terro sent her such an angry glare that Ailith was glad Killian’s horse stood between them. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut, and she kicked herself for speaking out of turn.

  Sábria pointed to Calit. “Sub-Commander Calit, you’re in charge of the triage teams. They’re to assess the injuries of the Blades first and only then look to the nobles’ injuries. I also want you to personally take charge of organizing the dead.”

  Calit saluted and began issuing orders. Blades trained as medics had already assembled into their squads, and Calit sent them around the Codpiece with warrior escorts whose only assignments were to protect the medics while they triaged the wounded and counted their dead.

  The alarm bell continued to ring, and Sábria turned to Harkins, who’d been fighting nearby. “Harkins, you and Shaya go tell whoever’s ringing that blasted bell to sound the all-clear. And tell them they did an excellent job with the cadence.” After they rode off, she called to Shirin. “Shirin. Have Second Company take charge of the prisoner details. Have all the nobles dismount. If they refuse, the Blades are to pull them off and place them in restraints under my orders.”

  As she glanced around, Sábria noticed the peasant, Barta, standing to the side, holding her short-handled sledgehammer down by her side. The pidge glared at Sábria, daring her to call her out for fighting alongside the Blades against the nobles.

  Sábria pursed her lips and kicked Shadowfoot to within a foot of the woman. Both the hammer and Barta’s hand were covered in slick, red blood, and when she pulled Shadowfoot to a halt, Sábria motioned for her to approach.

  Barta limped forward with her awkward gait and glared up at her.

  Sábria pointed to the hammer. “Put your weapon away when in my presence.”

  As if only then realizing she was still holding the makeshift weapon, Barta immediately slipped the handle between her belt and her sizeable girth.