“All bow to the Arch Priestess of the Temple of the Daughters of Elyon, twenty-third sovereign chosen, marked, and blessed by the Goddess Elyon, defender of the weak, avenger of the lost.”

  Ailith bit her tongue to keep from whistling at Sábria’s title. She heard a rustling as everyone except the royals in the other room rose and bowed, and then they were making their way forward behind Shirin, who’d fallen in behind Sábria.

  Shirin stopped halfway into the room while Sábria continued toward the dais. Sábria nodded to the Emperor and then to the Empress, who was seated to his right. She glanced at Crown Princess Tomisa, who sat on the Empress’ right but offered no form of greeting.

  Ailith had never been in a throne room, and the colorful embroidered wall hangings and dozens of mounted shields with various coats of arms amazed her. A shield separated into four quadrants, yellow and white on top, red and blue on the bottom, hung above the Emperor’s throne. The top white quadrant held an ornate, and to her eyes, gaudy enamel crown, while the lower left had a rearing stag.

  Impressive, but in Ailith’s eyes, nothing compared to the shield hanging above Sábria. It was the same design carved into the capstone above the outer gate into the Temple. The background was split diagonally. The left diagonal was also split in half, with the top being red, symbolizing woman’s blood, and the lower portion yellow, the color for justice. The right half of the diagonal was blue, symbolizing revenge. A thin border of white gold ran around the entire outer edge.

  In the center, also white gold, a figure of a woman’s muscular body held a sword of twirled red and yellow in one hand and the blue mace of revenge in the other. It was the woman’s head that impressed Ailith the most. It represented the two facets of the Mother Goddess. A blue, snarling beast looked to the left, while the loving aspect of a red mother bear looked to the right. Each wore a crown identical to Sábria’s. The sight gave Ailith the courage she needed to face whatever the day brought, and she turned her attention back to what was happening on the dais.

  Emperor Aloric rose and held out his sausage-like hands to Sábria, who took them in her own. They exchanged smiles and air kisses to both cheeks before Aloric resumed his throne.

  Taking her place on an identical throne on the middle right of the dais, Sábria moved with the effortless grace of the black panther she resembled.

  After everyone rose from their bows, the herald announced Shirin. “Princess Shirin Dorin Burchard, Commander of the Guardians of the Daughters of Elyon, fifth daughter of the House of Burchard, rulers of the Tuvistian Kingdom.”

  As Shirin strode forward and bowed low, first to Sábria, then Aloric, and finally to the Empress, Ailith realized her mouth had dropped open. She quickly shut it and hoped no one else heard her teeth clacking together.

  Shirin nodded to Tomisa before taking her place behind Sábria’s left shoulder.

  Ailith wanted to rub her eyes and curse, but turns of military training kept her arms, legs, and eyes locked rigidly in place.

  A bead of sweat rolled down her back, and she concentrated on that instead of the fact that she and Emlyn were the only two left standing in the middle of the room. Suddenly, it was time for the herald to announce them, and he did so with much less pomp than he’d given to Sábria and Shirin.

  “Guardian trainee Emlyn Deleon, formally of Kibrun, and Guardian trainee Ailith, formally of Dreyutha.”

  For the first time in her life, Ailith regretted never taking a second name. After her parents died, she’d been too busy surviving to care about her family name, and by the time she signed up for the army, she’d completely forgotten what it was. Following Emlyn’s lead, she bowed low to the dais, unsure whether she should bow to everyone the way Shirin had or just leave it as a general bow. When Emlyn straightened and didn’t bow a second time, Ailith pulled herself to rigid attention.

  Aloric took a noisy sip from a goblet handed to him by a page who appeared out of nowhere.

  The Emperor’s appearance suggested that of an overstuffed hog, and Ailith stifled her revulsion at the man’s triple chin and overlarge belly that rested on his thighs while he sat. His eyes were wide, although not close-set like she’d expect on a hog. An aristocratic nose canted down at the end, pointing to wide, fat lips that took up too much of the bottom third of the man’s face. Disdain dripped off his tongue when he finally spoke. “Duke Ravenkind. I believe this brat belongs to you?”

  Ailith ground her teeth at the Emperor’s derision but managed to keep her composure as the Duke stepped out of the gallery of onlookers and came to stand a few paces to her right, bowing once as Emlyn had done. Ailith belonged to the Temple now, not to Duke Ravenkind and this fat pig knew that perfectly well.

  Duke Ravenkind replied to the Emperor's insinuation. “No, your Imperial Majesty. Not mine any longer, and if the battles she’s fought are any indication of maturity, not a child, either.”

  The Emperor scrunched his nose in disgust as he raked Ailith with contemptuous eyes. “I can see why you’d want to be rid of the scrawny chit of a thing, but why Sábria would lower her standards to accept such gutter scum is something I don’t understand.”

  Ailith concentrated on the shield above his throne and ignored the titters running through the crowd. She knew she was anything but scrawny. Hadn’t the seamstress commented on her muscular thighs that very morning? And her arms had been honed by turns of swordwork and hand-to-hand combat. Knowing he was probably jealous of her physique helped her hold her tongue.

  Sábria’s voice was polite enough when she answered in place of the Duke, but there was definitely steel behind her words. “I don’t believe it’s your place, Aloric, to question my decisions regarding anything to do with the Daughters of Elyon.”

  Aloric ignored her and snarled, “Look at me, girl, when I’m speaking to you.”

  While it had never happened before, Ailith felt a calmness settle over her as though his contempt and ill manners were somehow beneath her. Beneath her. An orphan peasant from Dreyutha. At the last moment, she stopped herself from smirking at her private joke. She lowered her gaze to his and calmly stared at him.

  He continued, “When a possible spy from another kingdom is settled into my co-ruler’s Temple, Sábria, it becomes my place. Are you a spy, dirty little skelli?”

  A spy? The words brought her close to panic, and Ailith wanted more than anything to look at Sábria or Shirin or even Emlyn for help, but she’d been told to stare at the Emperor and stare she did. “No, Yer Imperial Majesty.”

  “Explain to me, then, why Dreyutha would beat a peasant soldier half to death for blatant disobedience and then leave her on the steps of the Daughter’s Temple instead of taking her back to Dreyutha for execution.”

  Usually, when dealing with this type of bully, Ailith’s mouth got the better of her, but now, somehow, her survival instinct was telling her to say as little as possible and let others fight the battle. “I have no explanation, Yer Imperial Majesty.”

  Aloric turned his attention to her right, giving Ailith a moment to grab a quick look at Sábria, who just as quickly winked imperceptibly at her. The small gesture calmed her heart which was beating like the hooves of a horse galloping across an open field. She immediately returned her attention to the Emperor and mentally patted herself on the back. Sábria believed in her, and she wouldn’t let her down in front of this fool.

  Rising from his throne, Aloric stepped off the dais and stood in front of Ailith. Sábria joined him, something that seemed to surprise the Emperor. He glanced over at her and then spoke to Ailith’s former Lord Commander. “Duke Ravenkind. Perhaps you have an explanation since your half-witted spy has none.”

  Ailith felt the blood rising into her cheeks, and she concentrated on the ugly mole to the left of the Emperor’s nose. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Duke nod and forced herself to relax when he responded in the affirmative.

  “I do, Your Imperial Majesty. Five turns ago, Temple Guardian Trainee Ailith saved my life at the Battle of the Night. Since then, I’ve been looking for a way to repay her. When the peace delegation arrived in Sarlogne, I was told about the Daughters of Elyon and knew immediately Ailith would be a perfect fit if they would have her. When Prince Ewell beat her unconscious, I had her taken to the Temple for healing and requested she be allowed to stay.”

  The Emperor looked from Ravenkind to Ailith and back to Ravenkind again. “And you’re telling me it took five turns for you to come up with an adequate reward?”

  Ravenkind stiffened. “My life is worth quite a bit to me, Your Imperial Majesty.” Apparently, the Duke was getting irritated at the Emperor because he chose to remind the man just what his position was within the Dreyuthan Kingdom. “Don’t you agree that the life of King Prather’s first cousin has a greater value than, say, a simple palace courtier?”

  Not able to come up with a suitable rejoinder without giving offense to the King of Dreyutha, the Emperor reared back and attempted to look down his nose at the Duke. Given that he was a good head shorter than Ravenkind, he only succeeded in looking like a toad trying to stare down a predator standing above him. “Then give me your vaunted word as a Dreyuthan that she’s no spy. I understand you’ll die before breaking your word.” He made the word “vaunted” sound like a taunt, and that galled Ailith. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, something she’d learned to do when she couldn’t afford to have people see they’d gotten under her skin.

  Ravenkind naturally had a military bearing, but by the way he pulled himself fully erect, emphasizing the size difference between them, he’d caught the intended slight as well. Being the consummate diplomat, he swallowed his temper and placed his right hand over his breast. “As a Duke of the Dreyuthan royal family, I swear on my honor, Temple Guardian Trainee Ailith is no spy.”

  The Emperor twitched his nose and turned to Ailith. “And you, halfwit? Do you swear by the vaunted Dreyuthan code of honor you’re no spy?”

  Ailith looked him squarely in the eye. “No, Yer Imperial Majesty. I’m no a citizen of Dreyutha no more, but I will swear by me oath to th’ Goddess as a Daughter of Elyon.”

  Aloric clearly didn’t like her contradicting him, but he couldn’t object without insulting the Goddess, not to mention the Arch Priestess and her Temple. “Kneel then and swear your oath.”

  Hesitating a moment, Ailith took one military step to the right, placing herself directly in front of Sábria. She knelt on one knee and looked up at the Arch Priestess. “I swear by th’ oath I’ve given to th’ Goddess and to th’ Temple of th’ Daughters of Elyon, I’m no spy, of that I give ya me solemn word.”

  Sábria nodded. “I accept your word. You may rise, Ailith.”

  Ailith rose and resumed her position in front of the Emperor.

  Ailith’s unspoken insult to Aloric and Sábria’s acceptance of it infuriated the man. His face became even more bloated than before, and the small veins in his cheeks flooded with blood as he sputtered and ground his teeth and cursed her name.

  Ailith moved her left foot back imperceptibly and braced herself for what she knew was coming.

  Aloric backhanded her with a hand full of rings, but since she was braced, the blow only rocked her back on her heels instead of throwing her onto the floor as he’d intended. Spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted, “Your word means nothing to me, you pissant guttersnipe!”

  Blood trickled from several cuts on her cheek, but she stared stoically ahead.

  Sábria inserted herself between Ailith and the Emperor. She elegantly placed her fingers on the Emperor’s chest and pushed him back to give herself room. “You insult the Goddess’ Temple of the Daughters of Elyon, Emperor Aloric. And you dare to strike one of the Temple Guardians?” She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and began to draw it. “I claim—”

  People within the throne room gasped.

  The Empress put her hand to her mouth, “No, please, Sábria. Aloric, you must apologize.” The woman, who’d turned a sickly shade of grey, rose and tried to pull her husband back from the aura of absolute power radiating off the Arch Priestess.

  Since Ailith was now standing with her nose practically touching Sábria’s shoulders, the Duke quietly ordered, “Two steps to the rear. Now.” In lockstep with the Duke, she and Emlyn took two steps back.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ailith saw Shirin nod to someone at the back of the room. Although they’d only come with ten warriors for an honor guard, she heard the sound of many, many more booted feet jogging to either side and fanning out. Temple warriors appeared in her field of vision on both sides of the dais, and judging by the sound of things, she knew the two lines must stretch all the way back to the entry door.

  Ailith knew how fast the Arch Priestess could pull a blade. She also understood that by taking her time, Sábria was allowing Aloric precious moments to consider his options.

  The Emperor stared dumbly at the two lines of Temple warriors bracketing his throne room.

  “Aloric.” The Empress’ hissed words finally jerked him out of his shock.

  At his wife’s panicked utterance, he lowered his gaze to Sábria’s sword, which was making its way inexorably from its scabbard. His jowls quivered when he shook his head and whined in such a quiet voice that only those closest to him heard. “Forgive me, Sábria. That was foolish.”

  In direct contrast to the Emperor, who obviously wanted his apology to stay between the two co-rulers, Sábria’s brittle, angry voice echoed throughout the room. “In this instance, Aloric, you will refer to me as Arch Priestess. If you intend to apologize, then do so with the same volume as you used to insult my Goddess and me.”

  After hearing the livid anger in Sábria’s voice, Ailith decided she’d treat the Arch Priestess with a lot more respect than she’d done in the past. Since the Emperor’s attention was focused on Sábria’s sword, Ailith chanced a quick glance at Shirin, who, for some reason, was staring directly at her.

  Livid was the only way to describe the Commander’s tight jawline and stiff shoulders. For an instant, Ailith panicked, thinking the Commander’s ire was directed at her. She quietly let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding when Shirin raised her chin, silently telling Ailith to do the same. Realizing the Commander wasn’t angry with her, Ailith returned her gaze to the back of Sábria’s head and proudly lifted her chin until it was exactly parallel to the ground.

  The Emperor’s cheeks had gone from flushed with anger to grey in the blink of an eye. In his arrogance, he’d forgotten that given enough provocation, the Arch Priestess could challenge him to a blood duel, one that would quickly end in his death. He smiled placatingly at Sábria and waved his hands back and forth, speaking loud enough for the assembled to hear. “Arch Priestess. Please accept my apologies to the Goddess and to you and the Daughters of Elyon.”

  He chuckled as though what had just happened was no more than an amusing anecdote to the morning. “My temper sometimes gets the better of me. Come, join me on the dais. I completely forgot we have a surprise for you and the Commander.” He reached out as though to grasp Sábria’s arm but stopped short of actually touching her.

  Sábria sheathed her sword, which made a sharp clack as the crossguard rammed against the scabbard’s metal locket. She turned to face Ailith and Emlyn. Light blue eyes that exactly matched the color of the Goddess’ ring held a frightening strength that sent chills down Ailith’s spine. “After you’ve bowed your respect to the dais, you’re dismissed. Take yourselves to the back and wait.” With those orders, she stepped up onto the dais and resumed her seat. Ailith found it interesting that the Emperor and Empress waited for her to be seated before sitting down themselves.

  Emlyn bowed, and Ailith hurried to follow suit. Blood dripped from her chin and landed with the rest of the drops scattered about her boots. When they straightened, they pivoted in place and began marching to the back of the room. Barely moving her lips, Emlyn spoke loud enough so that only Ailith could hear. “At the back, peel off to your left, step behind our warriors, and stand at parade rest.”

  She did as instructed, and as she approached the warriors on her left, all of whom had turned to face the center of the room, she recognized Senior Guardian Keavey Terrowyn, who stepped forward and to the side, creating a hole for Ailith to march through. Ailith did so, pivoted in place behind the line, and assumed the parade rest position.

  Guardian Terrowyn silently stepped back into place.

  Now that Ailith had a clear view of the room, the sight that greeted her made her chest swell with pride. Easily, forty fully-armed Temple warriors lined both sides of the hall. Every one of them had a hardened look that would put fear into an opposing army. Anger, determination, and discipline were written in every line of every face. Ailith remembered Commander Shirin’s gesture and raised her chin, proud to be part of this body of warriors.

  Back at the dais, Duke Ravenkind bowed and retreated to his place in the gallery. Trying to save face, Aloric smiled at his courtiers and loudly proclaimed, “There’s no need for these brave warriors to remain, Arch Priestess.”

  Sábria rose before she replied. “You’re right, Aloric. It’s time for me to take my leave.”

  Aloric waived his fat arms. “No, no, no. We’ve prepared a feast to welcome you and Commander Shirin, and I’d hoped to allow the Crown Princess to say a final farewell to her former bodyguard.”

  Sábria, still obviously furious, glared at the man. “Under the circumstances, I decline. Perhaps another time.” With that, she stepped off the dais with Shirin close on her heels. Shirin paused, executed a precision military turn, and bowed before catching up with the Arch Priestess.

  Senior Guardian Terrowyn took a step forward. Another Senior Guardian in the opposite line standing in front of Emlyn, did the same. Terrowyn pivoted around and spoke directly to Ailith. “Into line. Now.” After Ailith stepped forward and into Terrowyn’s place, the Senior Guardian pivoted to face the opposite line again.