Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses)

by Sharon Shinn

  Karryn lifted her head from its comfortable spot against Ryne’s shoulder and gave him a misty, if somewhat blood-specked, smile. “I wanted to be sure you heard me,” she said. “Were any of our people hurt?”

  “No losses,” Justin said. “Eggles and Moss were wounded, but not seriously.”

  Now Orson turned to give Justin an appraising look. “I thought Willa was good, but you,” he said in a wondering voice. “I never want to be on the wrong end of your sword.”

  Justin was trying not to grin too broadly. “And yet, there are Riders who can defeat me,” he said.

  “What’s the situation in the house?” Wen asked. “How many of our opponents dead and wounded?”

  “Four dead, four wounded, and these two,” Justin said, indicating the soldiers on the floor. The flirtatious one dead, the stupid one alive. Wen supposed there was never any predicting fate. “There’s a woman, too—I can’t determine her place here, but Malton has tied her hands just in case she wants to cause trouble.”

  “She seems like the troublesome sort,” Wen said.

  Orson had come close enough to inspect Wen’s wound. “That looks nasty,” he said. “Hold still and I’ll bind it. I’ll have to rip the sleeve, though.”

  “Thanks,” Wen said. “I want to change into my own clothes for the return trip, and I doubt Ginny will want to wear this dress again. I’ll buy her another.”

  In a few minutes, Wen’s shoulder was wrapped, she had had a chance to don her own clothing, and they had all collected downstairs. Moss and Eggles bore similar evidence of battlefield nursing, but that didn’t stop them from joining the other guards as they clustered around Karryn, asking her questions and vying for her attention. Wen watched, smiling a little, until Orson addressed her.

  “I guess the question now is, what do you want to do with the men who weren’t killed?” he asked.

  “We’ll need to bring them back to Forten City for Lord Jasper’s disposition,” Wen said. “If nothing else, they can testify against Demaray.”

  Justin looked sober. “An attempt against the life of a serramarra is a matter for the crown to handle,” he said.

  “Fine,” Wen said. “I’m sure Jasper will be glad to turn her over to Amalie. But we need to get the survivors someplace where they can be questioned.”

  Karryn looked over from her circle of admirers. “There’s a coach,” she volunteered. “It’s what they brought me here in.”

  “That’s poetic,” Ryne said.

  Wen glanced around. “Let’s split our forces. Leave some behind to oversee hauling the wounded men back to town. I don’t want to wait, though—I want to get Karryn home as quickly as possible so that her mother and her uncle know she’s safe.”

  “I’ll stay behind with four or five of our men,” Orson said. “You take Cal and Malton and Moss and Eggles. And the ser and serra, of course.”

  “Good enough,” Justin said and turned for the door. “Let’s get going.”

  THE ride back was a little more leisurely than the ride out and infinitely more enjoyable. They all jostled back and forth, telling and retelling their parts in the exciting drama and their emotions at various points in the day. All of them expressed the hope that Demaray Coverroe would be incarcerated for the rest of her life. Wen noticed that Ryne—whose fine, crumpled clothing was now covered with streaks of blood and smears of dirt—never once moved from Karryn’s side. For her part, Karryn frequently looked over at him with a shy, wondering smile and then looked away.

  Well. Wen was not as opposed as she might once have been to the idea of Ryne Coravann courting Karryn Fortunalt. Not that her blessing mattered to Ryne in the slightest, but she fancied it might carry some weight with Karryn.

  They were almost inside the boundaries of Forten City when Justin brought his rangy horse alongside her gelding. “Good work,” he said. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

  She gave him a wide smile. “I am. In fact. Though it might have been a different story if you hadn’t been along.”

  He shook his head. “I made it more certain. Your group would have managed without me, though you might have lost a man or two. But they all fought hard. I’d trust them behind me any day.”

  She glowed. It was a compliment to her as well as her troops. “I’m so proud of them,” she said softly. “I’m so proud of Karryn. I never thought I’d find people—other people—” People who were not Riders. She didn’t have to say it out loud. “People I could feel this way about.”

  “Then you’ve found your place, I’d say,” Justin replied.

  She stared at him, feeling as if she’d been struck motionless, though the gelding continued on in his steady way. It had never occurred to her, even as she extended her stay by one month, and then another, that Fortune might become a permanent home for her. Even as she tumbled into bed with Jasper Paladar, she was calculating how quickly she would have to sunder herself from his embrace. She had never allowed herself to think she might stay. She had never thought she might want to.

  Justin’s smile was small and full of comprehension. “It’s all about belonging,” he said. “Sometimes you’re surprised to find out who you belong to.”

  She didn’t know how to answer that, so she didn’t. They had had to slow, anyway, to negotiate the cluttered streets of Forten City. Now and then someone recognized Karryn, and shouted out a greeting or a word of surprise, but Karryn only waved; they didn’t slow or stop.

  “Gods,” Wen muttered at one point as they had to navigate around a roadblock of smashed carts and spilled produce, “if I ever get this girl safely home I am never letting her outside the gates again.”

  Finally, they were out of the worst of the traffic—finally they were on the quieter residential street leading to Fortune. A few of the guards raised a ragged cheer as they clattered around the final corner.

  To find the hedge engulfed in flames.

  Chapter 39

  MALTON LOOSED A SHOUT AND SPURRED HIS HORSE FORWARD, but Justin threw his hand up to halt him. “Wait,” he said sharply. “It might be sorcerous fire.”

  Wen looked at him sideways. “I thought Senneth’s power was gone.”

  “She’s been recovering it bit by bit.”

  Wen motioned Cal to ride closer, for he carried Bryce before him in the saddle. “Can you tell?” she asked the boy. “Is it real or is it magic?”

  None of them could get too near the rushing, roaring wall of flame. The heat was oppressive, and flickering tongues of fire darted through the air as if tasting the wind. But Bryce leaned out of the saddle, his hand lifted as if he might stroke a streak of hot scarlet.

  “Magical,” he said in a wondering voice. “I never saw anything like that.”

  Wen glanced at Justin again. “Still doesn’t mean we can ride right through it.”

  “No, but it means Senneth is controlling the compound.” He raised his voice to a bellow. “Senneth! Clear the gate! We’re back with the serramarra!”

  Almost instantly, the fire cooled, leaving a sparkling trail of embers coiled within the dense branches. The ground around the gate was littered with cinders, but only a few tendrils of smoke impeded their progress now. Wen waved her party forward, to find a whole host of people awaiting them just inside the fence.

  “Serra!” Davey shouted, and then Karryn’s horse was enveloped by Ginny and six guards. Laughing, Karryn slid to the ground and hugged them, one right after the other, and then picked up her skirts and raced for the front door. Serephette and Jasper were already there, arms outstretched, pushing each other aside for the chance to embrace her first.

  Senneth was standing with the Fortunalt guards, wearing trousers and travel gear and looking inordinately pleased with herself. “I see you managed to carry out the daring rescue,” she greeted Justin, as he swung out of the saddle. Wen followed suit, and the three of them drew a little apart from the others.

  “All Wen’s doing,” Justin said. “I just provided another sword.” He ges
tured at the hedge, where coals were still smoldering. Wen had the sense Senneth was enjoying the flames so much she didn’t want to see them go out entirely. She was amazed to see that the hedge itself was green as ever, seemingly unharmed by its bout with fire. “What’s all this?” Justin asked. “Were you attacked?”

  “It was a preventative measure,” Senneth answered. “At some point the fair Demaray seemed to realize that we suspected her, and she slipped from the house and went scurrying for the gate. I was too far away to catch her and I was afraid the guards wouldn’t be willing to use violence. So, not even thinking about it, I just flung my hand out—” She replicated the gesture for their benefit. “And the hedge caught fire. I was almost as surprised as Demaray—although I recovered more quickly.”

  “Where is she now?” Wen asked.

  “Jasper has placed her in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Amie is on guard at the door, and Garth on the ground below her window, in case she should decide to try to escape that way. I didn’t suggest those positions, by the way,” Senneth added. “They seemed convinced that Wen would have wanted them to deploy in such a fashion.”

  Wen grinned. “Absolutely right.”

  Justin waved a hand at the hedge again. “So then why keep the fire going?”

  “I didn’t know if she might have reinforcements coming. It seemed like an easy way to keep Fortune secure.”

  Justin was laughing at her. “You just liked it. It made you feel good.”

  “Well,” Senneth acknowledged, “maybe a little.”

  “How did Serephette hold up while we were gone?” Wen asked.

  “At first I thought she would have some kind of fit—she was so nervous, so afraid, bursting into tears and refusing to be comforted. But when she realized Demaray had taken Karryn, she flew into a cold rage. She drew herself up into this—this regal pose and stalked out of the room and went to the library to compose letters to Amalie. And to some of the other lords and ladies, I think. Vilifying Demaray. It gave her an outlet for her rage and terror and kept her occupied while you were gone.” Senneth shook her head. “She’s a strange woman.”

  Wen sighed. “She is. I rather like her, but I couldn’t tell you why.”

  Justin snorted. “Because you like battered people that you have to protect.”

  She punched him on the arm, then turned back to Senneth. “What about Lindy?”

  Senneth looked grave. “An excellent question. Was she privy to her mother’s scheme? Unless she’s a better actress than I ever was at seventeen, no. When she first realized what was happening—”

  “You mean, when the shrubbery caught on fire as her mother ran for her life?” Justin asked politely.

  “Yes—she looked utterly stunned. She sank to a chair and kept saying, ‘No. That can’t be right. No.’ She didn’t try to make excuses. She didn’t try to defend her mother or claim her own innocence. She just sat there. And then she started to cry. Serephette was out of the room by this time, but Jasper brought her some tea. I didn’t hear what he said to her. It’s a tangle, though. How can we prove her guilt or innocence one way or the other? And, Bright Mother burn me, even if she had no part in it at all—her life is essentially ruined.”

  “We could send her to Ghosenhall and have Cammon read her,” Justin suggested.

  “If he ever gets to Ghosenhall himself,” Senneth said gloomily. Wen didn’t understand why that was funny, but Justin laughed.

  “We can ask Bryce,” Wen said quietly. “I don’t know if he’s as good as Cammon at telling truths from lies, but he’s pretty accurate at reading people’s intentions.” With all her heart, she hoped Bryce would be able to tell them that Lindy was absolutely innocent. And not entirely for Karryn’s sake. Wen had never particularly liked Lindy, but she didn’t want to think that someone so young could be so wicked, so ambitious, so full of cunning and deceit. She wanted to think such depravity could only accrue after a long and disappointed life.

  Justin glanced around. “So what’s left to do here?”

  “We must make arrangements to send Demaray and her hired soldiers to Ghosenhall for Amalie’s disposition,” Wen said. “But unless the two of you want to act as their guards for that trip—”

  “No,” Senneth said at once.

  “Then I don’t think you have any more responsibilities here. You might say good-bye to Karryn, of course.”

  Justin reached over to ruffle her hair, but Wen jerked back and glared at him. “And make our good-byes to you,” he said. “Again.”

  Senneth was watching her with a faint smile. “Are you sure it’s good-bye?” she asked. “Are you sure there’s not a place for you in Ghosenhall?”

  Wen looked around at the smoldering hedge, at the cluster of guards still talking together with great animation, at the tall, serene façade of the house that, in the past few decades, had hid so much tumult within. She felt a strange tightness in her chest, part happiness, part affection, part amazement that something so dear had almost slipped from her grasp.

  “I’m sure,” she said quietly. “My place is here.”

  IT was close to midnight before the house was settled and Wen could seek Jasper in his room.

  Senneth and Justin had left after saying their farewells and promising to carry the entire story to Cammon. Wen and the guards had crowded into Jasper’s study to give him their combined report of the day’s disasters and triumphs and to hear his fervent thanks. Karryn had been put to bed, despite her protests that she was not tired. Ryne Coravann had been sent off to his inn to bathe and change his clothes, but he had come right back an hour later, saying he wanted to board at Fortune for the remainder of his stay. Everyone had seemed to think this was a good idea.

  Lindy Coverroe had locked herself into the room assigned to her and refused to come out. Bryce had loitered in the hallway for about ten minutes before looking up at Wen and Serephette. His small face was as serious as it could be.

  “She feels the way I did when I got lost in Forten City once,” he said. “She doesn’t know where to go and who to trust. She’s so sad and she’s so—Willa, I don’t know the words. She’s sick, like she’s going to throw up, but it seems worse than that. Like the worst headache you ever had and you don’t think it will ever go away.”

  Wen glanced over at Serephette, whose proud face and majestic bearing showed no signs of softness. “Marlady, I would read those emotions as true. I don’t believe she had a hand in her mother’s plans.”

  Serephette drew herself up even taller. “Of course she didn’t. She was a victim of Demaray’s scheming, as we all were. I shall have to care for this child from now on. I shall be her mother, and Karryn her sister. We will make sure no more harm comes to her from this day forward.” And she swept down the hall with her hand on Bryce’s shoulder.

  Wen followed them slowly, realizing this meant that she, too, had inherited one more soul to look after.

  The number of her dependents seemed to be growing by the hour.

  When she presented herself at Jasper’s door, she hesitated a moment before she knocked. It had been just a day since she had been here last, but so much had changed—not only in the world around them, but in her own heart. How much of that transformation would show on her face, how much of that would he welcome? She could make no broad assumptions.

  But neither could she turn and steal back down the hall without first offering up that altered soul for his inspection.

  He flung open the door to admit her, his arms already outstretched. She walked straight into his embrace, burrowing her face against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around her so closely she had trouble breathing. For a moment she was content just to stand there, inhaling his scent, rubbing her cheek against the silk of his shirt. But then with a sigh she lifted her head to signal the time for conversation.