Senneth tossed Justin one of the wooden swords and then, before he’d properly gotten his hold on the hilt, rushed him with her own blade extended. He dodged and parried, laughing, but she wasn’t through. She followed up with a quick series of slashes and feints, still trying to catch him off guard, pressing him hard before he’d even gotten his footing. She hadn’t been joking; she’d improved tremendously in a few short weeks, and her control was impressive. He let her set the pace at first, devoting all his attention to defense, noting where she was strongest, where she was weakest, gauging her true level of ability. Ah, she’d learned that trick from Coeval—and that little sidestep from Brindle—but she hadn’t quite mastered that forward lunge, that deadly stroke—
He backed away from her, still only defending, tiring her out, though her energy didn’t flag nearly as quickly as he’d expected. She’d been training in wind and weights, too, he guessed; she could probably keep this up half the night. What interested him was that she was really trying to land a killing blow. She wasn’t just practicing on him, enjoying the hard workout and the chance to show off new moves. She really wanted to see if she could break through his guard, bring him to his knees, prove she was a better fighter.
He might have been out of the training yard for two months, but he could still defeat a middle-aged mystic who wasn’t bred for combat.
He stepped forward and smashed three times through her fierce but inadequate defense. “Dead,” he said, as his wooden blade rested briefly against her throat. “Dead,” as the tip pressed against her heart. “Dead,” as he traced a line on her chest from her navel up to her neck.
She fell back, panting and covered with sweat. He dropped his sword-point to the floor and folded his hands across the hilt. “Did you really think you might be better than I am?” he asked.
She was laughing; something about the exhibition had pleased her deeply. “I always hope,” she said, and pushed back strands of pale hair that clung to her wet forehead. “But didn’t you think I’d improved?”
He nodded. “Oh, yes! If I was a great lord and I was hiring for my civil guard, I’d take you on in a minute.”
Tayse spoke up. “Have you been practicing? Doesn’t look like you’ve lost a step.”
Justin shook his head. “No one to practice with. I’ve done some fencing with shadows here in the stable, but that’s mostly just to keep my muscles in shape.” He handed Senneth his blade so she could put the wooden swords away. Turning away from her, he happened to catch sight of Cammon still watching Senneth, a slight frown on his mild face.
If Cammon was perplexed by someone’s strange behavior, then there was no chance Justin would be able to figure it out.
He took a seat on the floor in front of Tayse where the big man sat on a bale of hay, looking completely relaxed. Of course, if the door rattled or a shout was raised outside, or if Cammon cried out advance warning of an assault, Tayse would be on his feet with a sword in his hand so quickly no one would be able to see him move.
“So what’s in Coravann?” Justin said. “Why there?”
Tayse indicated Senneth with a jerk of his head. “The king wants her to talk with marlord Heffel about his connections with the Lirrenfolk.”
Senneth dropped beside Tayse and leaned against him. Tayse’s arm went around her waist almost absently, as if settling in its proper place. Justin couldn’t imagine ever being so casual about touching Ellynor, so certain that when she was beside him, that was where she belonged.
“Maybe you don’t remember this, but last summer there were Lirrenfolk in Coravann. Heffel’s got relatives across the Lireth Mountains,” she said. “Baryn thinks maybe we can convince the Lirren men to fight for us if the country truly goes to war.”
“I thought the Lirrenfolk weren’t too keen on outsiders. Why would they listen to you?”
She was grinning now. “Can’t you remember anything you’ve ever been told? I lived in the Lirrens a few years back. I was a member of the Persal family of the Lahja sebahta-ris.”
Nonsense words. “Of the what?” Justin asked.
She waved a hand. “Oh, I guess you’d call a sebahta-ris a closely linked network of families. Providentially, Heffel Coravann’s in-laws are also Lahja. That makes me kin. That means they’ll at least listen to me. That doesn’t mean they’ll agree to raise an army for Baryn.”
“I thought Heffel Coravann had decided to be neutral if there is a war,” Justin said.
Senneth sighed. “Yes. That’s another reason this probably won’t work. But it seemed worth a try. Worth the ride out to Coravann Keep and back.”
“When do you leave?”
“In the morning,” Tayse said.
Justin knew his face showed dissatisfaction. “Not much of a visit for me.”
“You weren’t our destination,” Senneth said. “You were just a small detour along the way.”
“Justin doesn’t like it here,” Cammon informed them while Justin scowled. “He thinks it’s lonely.”
“Justin will stay here as long as it will do us some good,” Tayse replied.
“Yes, but—what else is there to learn?” Justin said a little hesitantly. He was not entirely sure he wanted to leave Neft, after all. “I’ve already been able to answer two key questions— the Lestra is sending her guards out to murder mystics, and convocations of rebels are gathering at the convent. What else do you need to know?”
“Not sure,” Tayse said. “But we need you here a few more weeks.”
Senneth yawned and pulled away from Tayse. “Bedtime for me,” she said, standing up. “Anyone else?”
Cammon glanced at Tayse, glanced at Justin, and came to his feet. “Me, too,” he said.
“I’ll stay awhile,” Tayse said.
So Cammon had sensed that the two Riders wanted to talk privately. And Senneth had just figured it out on her own. They promised to come by the stables before they left in the morning, and then they departed, leaving Justin and Tayse alone with a single candle burning. All the mystic light had departed with Senneth—much of the warmth, too.
“What’s going on back in Ghosenhall?” Justin asked.
Tayse changed position and looked even more relaxed. “Preparations for war, mostly. The Riders practice all day. The king’s expanded the royal army and sent troops to Merrenstow for the regent to house. Kiernan Brassenthwaite sends messages daily about the money he’s raised, the soldiers he’s training, the stores of food he’s laying in to feed his army. We have renewed oaths of fealty from Kianlever and Merrenstow and Helven and Rappengrass, but there are still question marks beside the names in Nocklyn and Storian and Tilt.”
“Danalustrous?”
Tayse shrugged. “Like Coravann, currently neutral. Kirra is working on her father, but I don’t know that anyone has ever had any luck influencing Malcolm Danalustrous.”
“So the king expects a war.”
“As does everyone else.”
Justin stirred restlessly where he sat on the hay-strewn floor. “I feel tucked away here—useless,” he admitted. “I could do more if I was back in Ghosenhall.”
Tayse’s dark face was hard to see in the poor light. His voice was soft. “Tonight I formed the impression that you were of two minds about leaving Neft.”
Justin gave a sharp bark of laughter. “It’s stupid. I scarcely know Ellynor. I don’t know why she has such an effect on me.” He glanced at Tayse through the dimness. “No one ever did before. I never cared about girls particularly.”
“Which might be why this one matters so much.”
“I was sure you were going to lecture me about putting my mission at risk.”
“I have too much faith in you to think you would ever do that, no matter how you might be seduced by a young woman’s charms.” There was a smile in Tayse’s voice, and Justin laughed, but instantly Tayse grew serious. “But I would tell you to be careful, Justin. Love is a patient enemy and it strikes from ambush. Nothing else can lay you so low so quickly. Or f
ill you with more strength and courage.”
“But how do you know?” Justin asked in a quiet voice. “If it’s something that matters and not just some passing emotion?”
“What would you give up for her?” Tayse said. “Would you resign your post as Rider?”
“No!” Justin exclaimed, appalled. When Tayse didn’t speak, he added reluctantly, “Is that what it would take? Giving up so much?”
Tayse did not answer directly. “Would you defy a direct order from me to save her life? Would you turn your back on the king?”
Justin was silent a moment. “Would you do such a thing for Senneth?” he asked at last. “Give up your life—or everything that was your life before you met her?”
“I don’t know,” Tayse said. “I didn’t have to make that choice. I think love should make you more of who you are, not less. A better Rider. A better man. But I think sometimes love changes your choices.” Justin could hear the sudden smile in his voice. “I think, if you believed I would hurt this girl, you would fight me to the death.”
Utterly bewildered, Justin instantly realized that was true. But what he said was, “Why would you want to hurt her?”
“To keep her from hurting you.”
Justin shook his head. “She won’t. She wouldn’t. She is— you have every reason to be suspicious of her, but she is the opposite of a harmful person. She’s a healing person. She’s good—you would know that right away if you met her. Or, well, Cammon would.” He looked directly at Tayse across the gloomy darkness. “She trusts me, Tayse. She thinks I’m a worthwhile man. It makes me want to be the person she thinks I am, or that I could be. She’s the only one who’s ever believed in me—except you. But I don’t want to give up what I have— I don’t want to leave the Riders—I don’t want to change so much that she’s the only thing left in my life.”
“Love always changes you,” Tayse said, “but you have to change enough to allow it in. You’ll have that moment of choice, I’m sure. You’ll know when it comes.”
“I know what you chose,” Justin said.
Tayse nodded and came to his feet. For such a big man, he moved with a silent grace. He replied, “And never regretted it a day.”
CHAPTER 17
JUSTIN looked so woebegone the following morning as they prepared to ride out that Senneth wanted to kiss him like a bruised child. She had never considered the burly fair-haired Rider an object of compassion before; he was as competent and self-complete as they came. But he was not happy overseeing a lonely outpost. He was a man who truly enjoyed having his comrades around him.
And he was so flummoxed about this girl. Tayse had repeated to her most of his conversation with the younger Rider, but he hadn’t been able to answer Senneth’s foremost question. “Is he really in love with her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he knows. But he seems well on the way.”
Clearly, asking Justin point-blank would do no good. So Senneth merely gave him a warm hug, smiled at him, and said, “Take care of yourself.”
“How long will you be in Coravann?” he asked. “Maybe you could come by on your way back.”
She swung herself into the saddle and laughed down at him. “Maybe a week. But Neft is hardly on the way for a return trip to Ghosenhall.”
He shrugged. “All right. Well, practice against Tayse while you’re traveling. Maybe you’ll be able to beat me next time I see you.”
“I will,” she promised. A few more words passed between the men, and then they were on their way.
They headed north and a little east, passing through Nocklyn country with a certain amount of caution. King Baryn seemed to believe that Els Nocklyn would never betray him by siding with Halchon Gisseltess, but Senneth was far less optimistic. And it was clear that, whatever side the marlord took in an upcoming war, someone in this House was anticipating a battle. Soldiers in the wheat-and-ochre livery of Nocklyn could be encountered on every stretch of road, were always to be found riding through the larger towns they passed through. Her own small party was incognito, for Tayse was not displaying his sash of royal lions, but still every guard captain who passed weighed them with a wary eye. She and Cammon were always dismissed as being of negligible threat, but every soldier gave Tayse a pretty thorough looking over.
Right to fear Tayse, she thought. Wrong to overlook Cammon and me.
Tayse, as was his habit, rode slightly in the lead. When they went single file, Cammon took the rear, but most of the time the younger man brought his horse alongside Senneth’s and chattered happily away. She let him talk partially because she was genuinely interested in what he had been learning as he studied magic with mystics in Ghosenhall—and partially because listening to Cammon was effortless and soothing. Sometimes she thought he had no idea that she just let his words wash over her like so much effervescent distraction; sometimes she was sure that was exactly why he talked without ceasing. Cammon’s way of easing her mind.
They had been riding for about two hours, and Tayse was out of earshot, when Senneth interrupted Cammon’s tale about a trip through the Ghosenhall merchant’s district. “So how serious is Justin about this girl?” she asked abruptly.
Cammon gazed at her, his flecked eyes at their widest. “How serious do you think he is?” he countered.
“I know you don’t want to tell secrets,” she said.
“It seems wrong to pick up someone else’s emotions and then discuss them behind his back.”
She nodded. “I agree. I would hope you wouldn’t do such a thing to me. But this is important, Cam.” She gave him a very serious look. “It’s worth his life.”
Now Cammon appeared even more uneasy. “She could hurt him? How do you know that? He didn’t seem to think so.”
“I know something he doesn’t.”
Cammon rolled his eyes. “You always do.”
“So can you tell? Is he genuinely in love with her?”
Cammon brooded a moment. “I don’t think he’s sure yet,” he said slowly. “But I think he is. If he thought she was in trouble?I think we would see Justin turn rash.” He gave her a half smile. “And dangerous.”
“Justin is always dangerous.”
“So—is it because she’s from the convent? I never thought about it much, but I suppose Coralinda Gisseltess doesn’t really like her novices going out and falling in love with strange men. Especially Riders.”
“In this particular case, Coralinda Gisseltess is the least of Justin’s problems,” Senneth said shortly.
“Then Justin is really in trouble,” Cammon said, somewhat awed.
Senneth made no answer, merely rode on in silence. After a while, Cammon began his endless chattering again, but this time he didn’t seem convinced that he was offering her any real comfort.
THEY reached Coravann Keep three days later, having traveled with very few stops. The forested countryside of northern Nocklyn gradually gave way to the scrubbier hills of Coravann. The marlord’s stronghold was a grim, dark, massive building, though much more welcoming inside than its exterior would suggest. They were greeted by Heffel’s daughter, Lauren, a tall, dark-haired girl who exuded both serenity and natural graciousness. She was the one who showed the new-comers to their spacious quarters.
“You asked for two rooms close together,” she said, ushering Senneth inside the first one and seeming momentarily startled when Tayse followed. “You are—I assumed the men of your escort would share a chamber?”
Senneth smiled at her. “We will sort ourselves out as suits us best,” she said. It was unusual enough to ask to have one’s guards housed on the same floor as nobles, but the Riders had been well treated here earlier in the summer, and Lauren was not likely to forget that Senneth preferred her swordsmen within easy call. Still, no reason to shock the young serramarra by explaining exactly what the sleeping arrangements would be.