Micah moved in first, testing her defenses in a flurry of thrusts and slashes that soon drove all thoughts from her head save the most basic: defend, attack, and win. There was no Lancer here and no Colonel of the Guard, only two fighters and two swords. A lifetime of training enabled her to dissociate mind from body, letting her muscles react instinctively while her mind worked several steps ahead, strategizing and seeking to create an opening that she could use against her opponent.
In the end, she didn’t need to create it. Micah gave it to her with a lapse of judgment that she gleefully exploited, using the hard end of her grip to strike his wrist at a pressure point guaranteed to numb his fingers. His sword dropped to the ground, and she held the edge of hers at his throat.
They stared at each other, chests heaving from the effort, and for just a moment she saw not her friend but a vanquished opponent. Then her head cleared and she stepped back, retracting her blade.
“It seems I need no tricks after all. You were kind enough to leave yourself wide open.”
Micah bent over to retrieve his sword and took his time brushing off the sand before thumbing the grip control. “You mistake my kindness for inferior skills. I left myself open in order to build your confidence.”
She snorted. “Yes, you’re famed for your kindness.”
“You’re out of practice, and it would have been detrimental to your confidence had I thoroughly beaten you on your first attempt. Obviously, my duty is not to destroy your mental preparedness, but to increase it.”
“Ah. So you allowed your hand to be numbed out of a sense of duty?”
“Quite so.”
“If you’re going to tell such outrageous lies, you must learn to front better. I can see right through you.”
“You see what I want you to.”
Tal laughed and clapped him on the back. “Come, my good and very deluded friend. I’ll buy you a drink to make up for your loss.”
CHAPTER 7
Darzen Fosta
Every morning after her run Tal now enjoyed a sparring session, sometimes with Micah, sometimes with one of her Guards. The resentment she had felt for her Guards shifted into appreciation for their skills and even their companionship, and one night she invited Micah, Gehrain, and several of the senior Guards to her cabin for a game of tiles. She matched them drink for drink, laughing and remembering a time when she had done this far more often. Perhaps she needed to get back to that younger version of herself.
The next morning she remembered why that was a bad idea and decided that today’s run was going to be at a later time. Much later.
Her second awakening was kinder than the first, and with a sense of happy anticipation she rose and pulled on her running clothes. The colorizers took mere pipticks to apply; by now the routine was second nature. She left her porch looking like one more runner on the beach, pleased when two Guards magically appeared behind her before she had gone ten steps. Even though her schedule was off this morning, they were prompt and professional. Then again, neither Micah nor Gehrain would allow anything else.
The air had less of the tang than she was used to from her dawn runs, but the extra warmth of the sun made up for it. In fact, she mused, it was rather pleasant to run this late in the morning. Maybe she would change her schedule.
The dawn runners had finished their exercise long ago, and she found herself among an entirely different group. They all nodded at her, emanating curiosity and interest at the new person in their midst. As she overtook and passed one runner, she sensed more than the usual interest. If she wasn’t mistaken, the redheaded woman behind her was having distinctly sexual thoughts.
Tal smiled; she hadn’t felt that in a while. At least not this kind of interest, which was purely physical and not mixed with desire for the power and prestige that came with her title. This woman, whoever she was, had no idea that she was ogling the Lancer of Alsea. And Tal intended to keep it that way.
She slowed her pace enough for the other runner to catch up and flashed her a smile when they drew even. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” The woman’s long, red hair was pulled back in a tail, bringing her gray eyes and unusually narrow facial ridges into sharp focus. Tal hadn’t seen cheekbone ridges like that in some time and found herself staring at the graceful curves.
“I haven’t seen you here before.” The pleasant voice jolted Tal out of her rather rude assessment. “Did you just arrive?”
“No, I’ve been here a nineday. But I usually run earlier than this.”
“Whatever for?”
Tal laughed. “I see you dislike mornings. It’s the best time of day, truly. The air is crisp, and there’s such a sense of possibility.”
“And you think there’s less possibility later in the day?”
“In my life, there usually is.”
They came to a stop, and the woman held up her palm. “I’m Darzen Fosta. May I have the pleasure of knowing you?”
“Well met, Darzen. I’m Dira Shaldone.” It wasn’t imaginative—her childhood nickname and her mother’s family name—but it was the best she could do on a moment’s notice. Judging by Darzen’s front, she was a mid empath and would never detect the pretense.
They touched palms and smiled at each other as the physical connection bridged their emotions. For Darzen it was probably a significant glimpse, impossible without the touch, but Tal had already skimmed her emotions before their hands met. Darzen was genuinely happy to meet her, quite attracted, and a little nervous. There was also an underlying sorrow and loneliness whose source Tal could not discern without deeper probing.
They resumed their run, with Tal matching her pace to the slower one of her companion. Darzen might be taller, but her height wasn’t in her legs.
“You’re warrior caste,” Darzen said. “I think I’d have known that even without our touch.”
“And you’re scholar caste. What do you study?”
“Economics.”
“Ugh.” Tal made a face; economics haunted her life. “And you chose that?”
Darzen laughed. “I did. It’s really quite fascinating, like assembling a puzzle from a slightly different set of pieces every day. I’m never bored.”
“I don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
“I sensed that about you.” Darzen glanced over. “I heard the Lancer was staying in the village for her vacation. Are you entailed to her Guard?”
Tal barely paused. “Yes.”
“Truly? How fascinating. What’s it like to serve with her?”
“I serve under Colonel Micah.” It was a lie only in timing; for much of her life he had indeed been her superior. “He’s demanding, but fair and honorable. I’m proud to be one of his students.”
“I’ve always found that interesting. Warriors spend much of their lives studying, and yet we’re called the scholar caste.”
“You study far more than we do. It’s a matter of percentages. And how is it that you know so much about the life of a warrior?”
“I was bondmate to one.”
They ran in silence for a few ticks, but it wasn’t awkward. Tal knew that Darzen was simply trying to decide how much to say, and in the end it was quite a bit. She learned that Darzen lived in Whitesun, the largest city in Pallea, where she worked as an advisor to the city council. She had loved a Mariner, and for six cycles they had enjoyed a happy bond. But then her bondmate was lost in a storm.
“The remains of their ship washed up here,” she said. “So I come here every cycle to be with him on the anniversary of his Return. This is my third trip.”
“You loved him very much.”
“Too much, I think. He was my first love, but his first love was the Mariners.”
Tal stopped running. When Darzen turned to her in question, she said, “I’m truly sorry for your loss. I’m also sorry that you still feel such
resentment for the Mariners. It complicates your recovery.”
“Is it that obvious?” Darzen gave a short laugh. “I didn’t realize it was so close to the surface.”
It wasn’t, but Tal had no intention of admitting that she had skimmed her companion’s emotions. She wasn’t ready to disclose her empathic rating just yet, not when she was trying to appear a very ordinary warrior.
Darzen turned to the sea. “I should resent that. It’s what killed him. It was hard, always knowing that I counted for less than his precious Mariners. He said his heart belonged to Alsea, as if I should somehow accept that. As if I shouldn’t feel hurt, because Alsea is bigger than I am. But I never understood how he could put such a value on a love that can’t be returned. Alsea didn’t love him. Neither did the Mariners. I did, but my love had less value.” She faced Tal again, her expression sharp. “Do all warriors think that way, or is it just the Mariners?”
Here was a consequence of the warrior’s code that Tal had never considered. She wondered how many Alseans had paid a price for the strict interpretation she had been taught.
“Many of us think that way,” she said. “We’re taught that lesson from a very early age. I suspect it’s necessary for hearts prone to quick changes of allegiance, as ours are when we’re young. But I’ve recently come to understand that loving another does not mean we must love Alsea any less. And loving Alsea does not mean we must love another less.”
Darzen blinked rapidly and turned her head. “I wish Helus had put as much thought into it as you have.”
“He might have, had Fahla given him more time. A true heart has a way of overcoming old lessons.”
They stood side by side, watching the waves in silence until Darzen asked, “Will you join me for midmeal?”
“It would be my pleasure, if you allow me to buy.”
“Warriors.” Darzen moved into a smooth jog and led them back down the beach. “No wonder they’re always poor. They can never let a non-warrior buy.”
“That’s part of the code. Poverty and chastity above all.”
“That is not part of the code.”
“Just determining how much you knew.”
“I see. Then you should know I’m interested in neither poverty nor chastity.”
Tal kept her eyes straight ahead, but she didn’t need her vision to understand.
CHAPTER 8
Morning after
The courtship of Lancer Tal and Darzen Fosta was the number one topic in the Guard cabin. Micah heard it and occasionally pulled a Guard aside for speaking with too little respect, but most of the gossip reflected his own thoughts. Darzen was smart and had a strong sense of self, making her a good match for Tal’s intelligence and intense personality. Once her background check came back clean, Micah ordered the watch details to stay out of sight as much as possible. Tal had a rare opportunity to court as just herself, and it was his great pleasure to give her this gift of anonymity. Who knew when she would have another chance?
One sunny morning just before midmeal, he answered a knock on his cabin door and found a very relaxed Andira Tal on his porch. She was in a good mood, and it didn’t take a high empath to sense her news.
“Good morning.” He stepped aside to invite her in. “No run today? It’s late for you.”
She walked past him and dropped into a chair with a thump. “It’s a very good morning. And I’ve already had my exercise, thank you.”
“An exercise conducted entirely indoors, I see.” He sat across from her and added, “You’ve set no speed records, but at least you got there eventually.”
Her grin lit up the room. “Speed is not the point, Micah. Have you learned nothing from me in all these cycles?”
“Yes, I’ve learned that I’m glad I have no need to make something simple into something unnecessarily complicated. I’d have managed this a nineday ago. She wanted you the day you met.”
“What you call complicated, I call sublime.” She laid her head on the back of the chair and sighed. “She’s wonderful.”
“One joining and already you’re in a swoon? I’m afraid you’re beyond my aid.”
“Why would you assume it was just one? We had the whole night. And in these matters, I was beyond your aid long ago. I’m not sure when the student surpassed the teacher, but it’s been many cycles.”
“Oh, the dokshin is deep this morning!” He laughed, delighted to see her so happy. “I see your joining has made you completely insufferable, as if you weren’t already well on your way.”
Crossing one leg over the other, she exuded satisfaction and contentment. “I speak mere truth and you call me insufferable. This says much about your own self-doubts, Micah. I can help you with those.”
“No thanks. With your kind of help it would be another three cycles before I touched the skin of a woman.”
“Well, there’s something to be said for quality versus quantity. But I forget, you have no time for complicated issues such as true joining.”
“I’m glad it was so perfect and true. Will there be a Sharing, then?”
Her easy contentment vanished. “We’ve only just joined! Give me a little time.”
A Sharing was normally more intimate than a mere physical joining. Sexual pleasure was simple and transitory, but to open one’s full emotions to another, with no front at all, required a level of trust that most Alseans did not give so early in an acquaintance. Especially someone like Tal. And especially when that Sharing meant revealing a rather large secret.
“I wish I could,” he said, “but your time is limited.”
“Believe me, I know. I want to tell her. I’ve already let too many opportunities pass, but…it’s been too long since a woman wanted me for myself. I’d forgotten what it felt like.”
“It has not been that long. Captain Serrado knew who you were.”
Tal looked pained. “Darzen is not Ekatya.”
“Ah. She’s a vacation tryst, then?”
“No, she’s more than that.” She shook her head. “You knew that. You’re baiting me.”
“I want to understand. Tell me.” Micah leaned forward, watching her fidget in her chair.
“She’s good for me in so many ways. Smart and funny and thoughtful and easy to be with. And she challenges me and keeps me thinking. I doubt I would grow bored with her. But…” She hesitated.
“But?”
“She’s not my tyree.”
“Oh, Tal.” He sat back, his heart aching for her. “We’re not all destined to be tyrees. You cannot turn your back on someone who is good for you and may love you, simply because you hope for more. That ‘more’ might never come. You know how rare it is.”
“I know, I know. But I’ve felt it.” She looked up at him, a deep longing in her expression. “Ekatya and Lhyn couldn’t feel it on their own, so I linked them. Every night for a nineday and a half, I was part of a tyree bond.”
He sucked in a breath, and she gave him a wry smile.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“I’m not judging,” he said. “I’m just…”
“Shocked.”
He nodded. “You’re not usually so…imprudent. You linked a pair of sonsales tyrees. There’s no precedent for that. You had no idea what it would do.” But it didn’t take much thought to come up with the most likely scenario. “They couldn’t control it. It all came back on you, didn’t it? Why would you do that to yourself?”
“Because they didn’t understand. Fahla gave them one of her greatest gifts, but not the ability to truly feel it or understand it. I couldn’t stand by and let them flounder when it was so easy to show them the truth. It was an in-the-moment decision the first time, and an addiction after that. Yes, it was impulsive and unwise, but it was the most spectacular thing I’ve ever felt. Ever. And then they left, and it was gone. I thought I’d come to peace with
that. I thought I could make Alsea my bondmate. But then Ekatya called, and there went that little bit of philosophy.”
He couldn’t imagine what she had been going through. This explained everything.
“I am so sorry, my friend. In a way, you’ve lost your tyree. That was never supposed to be your bond, but you made it yours, and then you lost it.”
“It’s my own Fahla-damned fault. I have no claim to sympathy.”
“Yes, you do,” he said gently.
Her expression tightened and she looked away, fixing her gaze on the window behind him. “That’s why I cannot make myself give up hoping. How can I accept that I’m not one of the special ones when for those precious few days, I was?”
He had no answer to that, nor did she seem to expect one. The morning sun streaming through the window gave her light eyes an almost surreal glow, and he thought uncomfortably that Darzen had never seen these eyes. She didn’t know about Captain Serrado and Lhyn Rivers or what was in Tal’s heart. She didn’t know the critical role Tal had played in beating back the Voloth or anything about her normal life.
For the first time, he questioned his own wisdom in facilitating this charade. It had been good for Tal in the short term, but had they done the right thing? They had kept the Lancer off the stage, but in truth, the Lancer was part of Tal’s identity.
“I suppose I should put my fantasies behind me and think about this from a more realistic point of view.” Tal met his eyes again. “It’s ironic, though. I spent so much of my vacation thinking about what you told me, accepting the idea of loving another without compromising my service to Alsea, and now the opportunity is knocking at my door—but I’m hesitating. I’m not certain if Darzen is the one I should be with.”
Micah shook off his unease. “A Sharing is not immutable. It doesn’t mean you’re bonded.”
“No, but it means giving all of myself. It may only be momentary, but that doesn’t change the fact that a Sharing is a big step.”