Deciding her best choice was to stand at what she’d always called rigid attention, which, in her mind, was different from just ‘attention,’ she pulled her shoulders back, jammed her thumbs into the seams of her trews, and locked her body in place. This was something she’d been trained to do since her ninth name day, and she could stand in that position for candlemarks if need be.

  “Better.”

  It was good that her body was conditioned to remain still when it was locked at attention because inwardly, she jumped at the unexpected praise. Having the ability of any seasoned soldier to keep their head straight while taking in everything around them allowed Ailith to surreptitiously watch as Isobel walked up to Sábria and spoke with her.

  Sábria turned and glared at Ailith.

  So, she was still angry at Ailith’s break in protocol during a critical situation. Ailith’s cheeks pinked, but she didn’t otherwise react to that disapproving stare. She breathed easier when Sábria turned back and said something to Isobel.

  Since the healer’s hall was packed with the more critical injuries, Blades were bringing extra pallets out, setting them on the ground, and helping the wounded down onto them. There were more injured Blades than Ailith had initially thought, and she watched as Kara, one of the Temple healers, strode from pallet to pallet, assessing injuries and triaging the patients according to the severity of their injuries.

  One of the gate guards, Deena Sethkin, ran up to Sábria and saluted. After she spoke for a moment, Sábria strode to Kara and pulled her aside. Kara pursed her lips and, it seemed to Ailith, nodded with a reluctance that made her wonder what was being discussed. Sábria, in turn, spoke to Deena, who ran back to the gate.

  Before long, the Seneschal came into Ailith’s line of sight, trailed by men and women wearing the red and blue checked tunics of the palace healers. They all stopped and bowed, waiting for Sábria to acknowledge them.

  She motioned for Lord Dunham to approach. When he did, Sábria said something, which prompted him to order the healers to see Kara for their assignments.

  Ailith had no idea why the Blades in the honor guard were being held back from helping. She privately thought it was a waste of good resources when they’d all been trained to deliver rudimentary aid until the healers could tend to the injured further down the critical list. Sábria entered the Healer Hall with Lord Dunham, leaving her guard standing next to Elyon’s fountain.

  If she’d been with Jenx or even Terro, Ailith would have mumbled her opinion of the wait. Instead, she stood at silent attention and watched the organized chaos in the courtyard. She suppressed a grin when Ghost marched up to Isobel and stood glaring up at her with her hands planted firmly on her hips. The skelli said something that made Isobel’s brows pull down low. When the formidable Lady Knight cocked her head and stared down at Ghost with an uncomprehending look, Ailith knew precisely what was happening. Lady Isobel not only didn’t understand gutter cant, she’d probably never heard it before.

  Having little patience for little people, Isobel grabbed Ghost by the back of her tunic. She pulled her toward the honor guard kicking and trying to bite until Isobel easily lifted her with one arm so they were staring at one another face to face. Isobel growled something that had Ghost immediately settling down. Still carrying Ghost like a mother cat would carry a recalcitrant kitten, Isobel strode up to Ailith. “In the name of the Gods, what language is this mop-headed gutter rat squeaking at me?”

  Not sure if she should say anything, Ailith turned her head a minuscule amount to silently ask Marne what she should do.

  Marne growled, “Answer th’ Lady.”

  “Probably gutter cant mixed with what Senior Guardian Terrowyn’s taught her.”

  Still holding Ghost in the air by the back of her tunic, she swung her around to face Ailith. “Ask her what she’s yammering on about.”

  “Is ya squakin’ t’ noypidge?”

  Isobel pulled herself to her full height. “Did you just call me a pidge?”

  Ailith closed her mouth and stared at her former master. Since she’d actually used the term for a noble pidge, anything she could think to say would probably get her in trouble with both Isobel and Marne.

  Luckily, Ghost chose that moment to answer. “Pidge pinched me stiker.”

  Now, Isobel’s brows rose into her hairline. “Did a gutter rat just call me a pidge?”

  Choosing to sidestep the question, Ailith translated instead. “She’s askin’, polite-like, if’n ya might have picked up her knife somewhere in yer travels.”

  No one who didn’t know Isobel as well as Ailith did would have picked up on the touch of humor that flitted across her former master’s eyes. Incredulity colored Isobel’s words when she asked, “She’s asking politely?”

  With her tongue stuck firmly against the inside of her cheek, Ailith brought her brows down in as serious a look as she could manage. “Aye, Milady.”

  Isobel stared into Ailith’s eyes, and while other people still wouldn’t recognize the signs, Ailith was sure the Lady Knight was amused. Without warning, Isobel dropped Ghost, reached into her boot, and retrieved the knife, which she held just out of Ghost’s reach. “You refer to me as a noblewoman. If you ever refer to me as a pidge again, I’ll skin you with your own knife. Understand?”

  Ailith reeled off the gutter cant translation so fast that all of the words ran together. “Ya babble ’bout th’ noypidge, ya squawk ‘er a noblewoman, or she’ll slice ya wit’ yer stiker. Ya ken?”

  With a childlike giggle, Ghost grinned up at Isobel. “Tag me, aye?”

  Isobel turned her eyes from Ghost back to Ailith. “Translation?”

  “Maybe better ya not ken what she said?” There was no way that would fly, and after Isobel raised a single brow, Ailith sighed. “She said ye’ll have to catch her first.”

  When Isobel narrowed her eyes and peered down at the tiny skelli who was staring up at her with laughter in her eyes, Ailith recognized the same fond glare Isobel had turned on her so many times in the past. The Lady flipped the knife so that she was holding the tip of the blade. “Can you throw this?”

  Ghost dipped her chin once.

  “Are you accurate?”

  Ghost looked at Ailith, who said, “Hit a nob twixt th’ glows?”

  Ghost thought about that a moment and then said, “Hit ’em, aye. Glows nai.”

  Ailith looked at Isobel. “She says she can throw it and hit a man somewhere on his body, but she’s no good enough to hit him between th’ eyes.”

  Isobel’s eyes were speculative when she nodded and handed Ghost her knife. When Shirin came striding through the gate, Isobel forgot about the skelli and motioned her over. The two walked into the healer hall, and again, Ailith was left to wonder why the honor guard were standing like posts in the middle of the courtyard.

  Ghost was happy now that she had her knife tucked securely between the rag she used to tie up her trews and her skinny body. With a final look at Ailith, she turned and ran back to the stables.

  It wasn’t long before Shirin and Isobel walked out with Sábria between them. Once they’d passed the honor guard, Sela ordered, “Fall in.”

  Like a fine-tuned instrument, all ten Blades turned and fell in behind the three women.

  Now, Ailith understood why they’d waited and realized she didn’t always have to know what was happening around her. In the Dreyuthan army, she’d never known the reasons why they did things. She’d simply followed orders. It finally occurred to her that she could trust Sábria and her Blades enough to let go of some of the compulsive need for control she’d felt since coming to the Temple. It was definitely something to think about in the coming days.

  CHAPTER 25

  It took a full sevenday for the city and the Temple to return to normal. Sábria had met with Aloric several times and pressed the advantage she had to make changes in several laws concerning the nobility’s power over the non-noble population. Perhaps Elyon had gotten through his thick head this time because he told her of several changes he planned to make to control the foreign nobles for the following turn’s Festival. She’d also met with the families of the slain men, most of whom were ashamed of what their husbands and sons had been doing in the Codpiece.

  Master Fiyori levied significant fines on the families of the men who survived the Festival Riot, as it was being called, and Sábria intended to use the money to improve the lives of those living in abject poverty within the Codpiece.

  In all, thirty-seven Blades had been injured, seven of them critically. Thankfully, no more died, and all were expected to make complete recoveries.

  As busy as Sábria had been in the last two sevendays, she’d managed to eke out some time to slowly get more comfortable around Ty. Her stomach still knotted up when she thought about telling her she was her mother, but she knew the time would come very soon when the truth would come out, one way or another. Luckily, there were very few mirrors in the Temple, and none were located in a place Ty would go.

  The Festival officially came to a close after the riots. During the intervening time, Sábria had spoken to all two hundred Blades she’d brought in from the surrounding Temples. Of those, seventy-three volunteered to stay in Sarlogne to beef up the numbers of Blades stationed there. One hundred and twenty-seven had left to return to their respective Temples.

  There had been very little time to relax, and Shirin and Isobel insisted Sábria take the afternoon off to do just that. Isobel had gone one step further and asked Shirin to station a Blade at the stairwell to avoid the daily interruptions that kept Sábria from true relaxation.

  After enjoying two glasses of wine while lying in bed before a roaring fire, Sábria finally began to relax. Her head was pillowed on Isobel’s breasts while Isobel’s strong fingers massaged her scalp and neck. “Hmmm. That feels wonderful.”

  The massage, both sensual and suggestive in the delightful way Isobel’s fingers circled and caressed, continued as Isobel smiled and said softly, “I’ve learned something of your Kiprian Arts while I’ve been here, you know.”

  With languid pleasure, Sábria groaned appreciatively. “Yes. I can see that.”

  “I’m a quick study.”

  Isobel’s nipples hardened when Sábria’s warm breath playfully blew across their tips. “Mmmm. I think your body agrees.”

  This was Sábria’s time to relax, not hers, and Isobel gently took back the initiative. With her free hand, she kneaded Sábria’s full, rounded breasts while continuing the head massage.

  With a drawn-out gasp of pleasure, Sábria arched into the caress, allowing Isobel full access to nipples grown hard and delightfully sensitive. “What…what else have….” Two fingers tugged and lightly twisted a nipple while a thumb slid around the soft areola. “Oh.”

  Isobel slid out from under Sábria’s head and lowered it onto the pillow. Moving down, she nuzzled the other nipple with parted lips, teasing out a groan with slow, promising licks.

  Feeling her need growing, Sábria writhed beneath Isobel’s hands, lips, and hot, wet tongue.

  When Sábria arched higher, Isobel raised her head so her lips stayed just above the skin. Her words were at once passionate and aroused as she took in the sight of those lovely breasts. “I’ve only just begun my course of study, you understand.”

  Sábria put her hand behind Isobel’s head and pulled her down to the breast that was still rising to meet her soft, talented lips. When Isobel circled the nipple with her nose, Sábria tried to speak around a moan that welled up unbidden from deep within her core, “You’ve…oh...learned well.”

  Isobel smiled ever so slightly as she sucked the breast into her mouth.

  With growing urgency, Sábria’s attention turned to the ache between her legs, which she shamelessly stretched wide. She writhed and whined as the pulsing grew into a throbbing need.

  “Nice and slow, Sábria. Isn’t that what you like?”

  “S…slow? Oh, Goddess. Not…not today.”

  Isobel rolled over so her thigh was between Sábria’s legs. “Oh, definitely today.” She bent her knee into Sábria, who rubbed up and down her thigh. Sábria’s feet were planted on the bed to give her more purchase, and just when she felt her climax building, Isobel moved her thigh away. Sábria’s eyes flew open, and she gasped at the sudden withdrawal.

  “I want to slide through this wonderful wetness.” Isobel illustrated her words by circling a finger through Sábria’s wet folds. She slid off the bed onto her knees and pushed Sábria’s legs wider still. “I want to see how swollen you are.” She ran her thumbs through the wetness and opened the folds staring hungrily at the red, swollen flesh. “So, so beautiful.”

  Sábria’s hips rose as her breathing became deeper and more frantic. “Isobel….” It seemed impossible for her legs to spread any wider, but when Isobel licked between her folds, her hips rose, and her legs opened wider of their own accord. When Isobel dipped her tongue inside and licked upwards before pulling out again, Sábria’s vision went grey.

  “Mmm. Delicious.” Isobel’s tongue ran up and down the perineum, sending shockwaves through Sábria’s core.

  “Isobel…please.” Her voice shook with the need that was rapidly growing out of control.

  One thumb lazily circled her clit as Isobel dove inside for another taste. She licked as Sábria bucked against her, and when Sábria sobbed, “Inside, Isobel, oh Goddess, please!” Isobel smiled again and slipped a single finger inside. She moved it in and out, and when Sábria gasped, “More,” she slid two more fingers in to join the first. She began with gentle thrusts, curling her fingers up to rub where Sábria wanted it most.

  Sábria’s legs were trembling, and Isobel increased the rhythm, thrusting deeply as Sábria met each thrust with an upward jerk of her hips. She cried out each time Isobel’s fingers reached deeper inside, “Harder, please, harder.”

  Isobel added a fourth finger and slid up to add the weight of her hip against her hand.

  “Yes.” Legs wrapped around Isobel’s hips, pulling her in tighter until Sábria shoved against her hand and cried out, holding herself pressed against the fingers as her body swelled around them. With her hips raised and her legs pulling Isobel in, she came with such force that her whole body shook with the intensity.

  As Sábria collapsed onto the bed, Isobel moaned, “Great Goddess, how do you make me come without even touching me?”

  Still catching her breath, Sábria smiled and slipped her hand between Isobel’s legs. Her brows rose at the amount of creamy wetness she found there. “I did, didn’t I?”

  Moving up until her head was tucked between her friend’s shoulder and breast, Isobel ran her arms around Sábria’s chest and pulled herself in tight. “I’m going to miss this when I leave.”

  “I’ll be right here every time you return.”

  They lay quietly for a while, enjoying each other’s bodies with soft caresses and circling fingers. After a while, Sábria rose and pulled on her robe. She picked up her wine glass and went to lean against the window that looked out over the courtyard. She was woolgathering when she realized Isobel had made a very strange suggestion. “I’m sorry. Do what?”

  Isobel had pushed up and was leaning against the intricately designed padded backboard resplendent with tufted details and elaborate stitchwork. “I know we’re trying to forget for a few candlemarks all that’s happened recently, but we might not have time to discuss something I’ve been mulling over ever since the riot. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. If you get me stressed, you’ll just have to unstress me again.” She turned a playful look on the Lady Knight.

  “I’m sure I can manage something.” Isobel’s hungry look said she’d do just that. She pulled her gaze away from those lovely breasts and focused on Sábria’s bright blue eyes. “So, back to what I said a moment ago. I think you should train the skellis and nints to protect themselves. They’re already armed with different types of weapons. Yes, most of them are nothing more than sharpened sticks, but Sábria, everyone should be able to protect themselves.”

  “This from a woman who owns slaves who aren’t allowed to eat or speak in her presence unless directly spoken to? Where’s this coming from?”

  “I told you that Queen Sophia, Duke Ravenkind, and I are working to change the way slaves are treated in Dreyutha. I see you trying to make changes here as well. I’ve never had much, or anything really, to do with peasants or gutter rats. But I saw the fierce determination, the lack of fear in the eyes of the rats those noblemen captured. And the feral ferocity of Ghost when she believed she could protect the frack from those men. I respect that kind of strength, and I believe if you work it right, you could have your own army of younglings down there protecting their own.”

  Sábria sipped her wine and thought about the suggestion. “Perhaps. But I need to move slowly at the moment. Too much change too soon will spell disaster for Cibía. For right now, I’ve increased the patrols in the Codpiece and we’ll have to be the ones protecting them for a while. But I’ll keep your suggestion in mind, and when the time’s right, I’ll gradually put a plan in place to start my skelli army.”

  The sight of Terro, Ghost, Ty, and Ailith walking beneath the archway leading to the stables caught Sábria’s eye, and she straightened. “That’s odd. What are they up to now?”

  Isobel walked over but didn’t see anything strange. “Who?”

  Instead of answering, Sábria set her drink on the table, took Isobel’s hand, and led her into the bathroom. “Come on. Let’s get washed up and dressed. I’d like to see what Terro, Ghost, and Ailith are doing with Ty. They all just now walked into the stables, and I’m curious to know why.”

  “Well, Ty is excellent with horses. Taking care of her master’s horses was her duty for many turns. In fact, if she decides she doesn’t want to become a Blade, a stable master somewhere would suit her well.”