by Keri Arthur
“Then give one to Stone. I care not.”
She picked up a nearby mug and took a drink. I couldn’t help but notice her hand was trembling. There was definitely something about these bracelets she wasn’t passing on.
“So be it.” I clipped them back onto my utility belt. “Is there anything I can do for you before we leave?”
“No. I merely wished to express my thanks for your actions yesterday. I’m told I’d be dead were it not for you.”
I smiled. “That’s not entirely true. Both you and the wind contributed to our survival.”
“Indeed.” She paused, her gaze returning to mine. “My husband intends to give a masque to celebrate both the rising of Pomona and my return. I wish you to be present.”
Pomona was a festival dedicated to the goddess of the same name, and was both a celebration of the end of summer and an entreaty for a successful harvest. While Tenterra might have been made a wasteland after the war, the Gallion farmlands—which lay just behind Winterborne—hadn’t been as fully drained, and had quickly become plentiful again. The Pomona Masque was a big celebration, even in the outer bailey. Guard duty was restricted to a bare minimum, drink flowed, and the coupling rooms were never empty. I really didn’t want to waste such a celebration feeling awkward and out of place in some highborn’s house.
“I appreciate the honor, Lady Saska, but—”
She raised a hand, halting me. “You will come. It is only fitting that my saviors are appropriately presented to those who gave up hope.”
I wondered if one of those people was her husband. Wondered what he really thought about his long-lost wife being found. I guessed I was about to find out.
I bowed in acquiescence. “As you wish.”
“Good. I will arrange the appropriate invitation once I return home.”
“Thank you.” I hesitated. “Will there be anything else?”
“No.” She turned to the fire, dismissing me physically if not verbally. I retreated from the room. The dark-haired guard waited for me in the main corridor, and escorted me to the outer bailey, where two troop carriers waited.
Blacklake’s commander stood in front of the first one. My escort led me to him then, with a nod from Stone, retreated.
His gaze skimmed my length before returning to my face. “How are you feeling today, March?”
“Better, thank you, sir.” I unclipped one of the bracelets and held it out to him. “The lady Saska asked me to give this to you, as a token of her appreciation.”
He took the bracelet and studied it. “This isn’t the work of the smiths of Salysis.”
“I thought it might be some sort of heirloom.”
“If it were an heirloom, she wouldn’t be giving it away.” He rolled the bracelet around, a frown gathering. “I’ve never seen workmanship like this before. It’s almost Versonian in style, but couldn’t have come from that place.”
Because their lands had been sundered from ours by the Irkallan and a vast landslip, and all communications with them had long been lost.
“It is old,” I said. “So it’s possible it came from a time before the war.”
“Maybe.” He slipped the bracelet onto his belt. “Either way, I know someone who would appreciate such a trinket.”
My thoughts instantly went to the young, blonde-haired woman who tended his chambers. He was obviously a generous man if he gifted his serfs with such things.
“I also want to thank you for your timely intervention yesterday, Commander. If you’d been delayed but a few minutes longer—”
“I would probably have found more Adlin carcasses.”
I half smiled. “Unlikely, given I was almost out of ammunition.”
“Not when you had an air witch—and possibly more—at your command.” His gaze went past me as someone approached from behind. The speculation I’d briefly glimpsed fell once again, replaced by the cool efficiency of a man in charge. “You’re in the lead carrier, March, and part of the protection detail for Lady Saska.”
A soldier stopped beside me and offered me a bandoleer for the rifle and several clips for the gut busters.
I slung the former over my shoulder and attached the latter to my utility belt. “Thank you, Commander.”
He nodded and stepped back. “Assume your position, March.”
I nodded, formally saluted him, then spun and headed into the first carrier. Once Lady Saska and Lord Kiro were secured in the second vehicle, the engines were booted and the big machines rumbled forward.
It was a long and uneventful journey home. As Winterborne’s massive curtain wall began to dominate the evening horizon, I couldn’t help but wonder if Saska was as grateful to see it as I was, or whether her feelings ran to wariness or even fear. After such a long absence, she had to be uncertain of her position within her own family as well as in her husband’s bed. Although, given her countenance this morning, I suspected whatever emotions she might be feeling would be hidden under a mask of dismissive coldness.
The carriers swept through the gatehouse and came to a halt in the inner bailey. Mak November—the day shift captain and a man I’d once been involved with—was waiting, along with a full escort of guards in the heavy blue-and-gold uniforms of the Rossi family. Beside them, hovering just a foot or so off the stone, was a heavily curtained, sun-powered, short-range carriage.
Saska and Lord Kiro were greeted by the captain, then quickly ushered into the carriage and swept away. Only then were we allowed out.
“Check those weapons back in, then make your report, March,” Mak said, voice brusque. No surprise there given how badly our relationship had ended. “Captain July wishes you back on the line this evening.”
If I were the betting type, I’d say it was Mak behind the order more than July. I might have been the model of soldierly decorum since our breakup—mostly, anyway—but Mak had never really forgiven me expressing my exact opinion of him in the bitter moments after he’d told me he was marrying someone who was “nice and unstained.”
I saluted and then headed across the yard to armory three. Several day duty guards greeted me, but it was more a perfunctory, almost absent gesture than one containing any real warmth. The Nightwatch and the day guards rarely mingled, except on the odd celebratory event such as the upcoming masque.
Though there was still an hour before his shift should have started, Jon had already claimed his usual seat.
“Where’s Henry?” While I was surprised to see Jon, in truth, I’d much rather deal with him than his counterpart. Henry was several years older, and a whole lot crankier.
“He’s had to go to the infirmary—some sort of stomach bug. The cap asked if I’d step in for the last couple of hours.” His smiled flashed. “Good to see you back in one piece, lass.”
“It was a rather close run thing, let me tell you.” I slipped off the bandoleer and rifle, and followed him across to the armory’s door. “And I will have you know that the knife proved to be very handy.”
“Ha!” He hobbled around to his desk and opened the records folder on the desktop. “I’m guessing that means you should keep it.”
My gaze jumped to his. “But it’s noted in the inventory—won’t that get you into trouble?”
He waved his free hand as he began scanning in my weapons. “As I said, it’s been delisted. It’s yours if you want it.”
“I do. I owe my life to this thing.”
“I’m thinking the busters and the rifle might be due a word of thanks, too.” Amusement crinkled the deep lines in his face.
I grinned. “Maybe just a little bit.”
He handed me the stylus. I signed the weapons back in then gave him a sketchy salute and headed out. The bunkhouses lay at the western edge of the main wall, where the vast White Cliffs fell three hundred and fifty feet down to the Sea of Giants—so called, I was told, because of the white limestone stacks that still dotted the bay. There were no walls between the bunkhouses and those cliffs—there was no need for them, as b
oth the Irkallan and the Adlin had a morbid fear of water. Even spring water caused them pause if it was deep or wide enough.
The room I shared with Ava and four others lay at the top of the five levels, and backed up against the old wall. It was a good position, because we had no one above us and neighbors only on one side rather than two. The price we paid for this was six in a room but none of us was willing to swap this relatively quiet position for a little more space.
I’d barely stepped through the door when Ava all but threw herself at me. She was slightly taller than me, with a lithe, softly rounded body that belied the steel of her core. She had the dark hair and lightly tanned skin of the Sifft, but features that echoed the rare beauty of those from Uraysia—a wider, more exotic-looking facial structure, a mouth that was made for kissing, and eyes that were as black and as heavenly as a starless sky, with the epicanthic fold enhancing rather than detracting from their beauty. Her body, pressed so firmly against mine, was trembling, her nipples erect and hard. Awareness stirred, and though it held none of the power of what had beset me both in the hospital and in Stone’s chamber, it was at least welcome this time. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her lightly, filled with relief that I was still able to do so.
“You didn’t get dead.” Her breath warmed the base of my neck. “I’d feared the worst when I found out what happened.”
I frowned. “Didn’t the captain pass on the news of my survival?”
She snorted and drew back, but kept her arms wrapped loosely around my neck. “Numbnuts was on. Such a nicety wouldn’t even enter his brain space.”
I chuckled softly. Ava had never forgiven Mak for his treatment of me, or the manner in which he’d acted since our breakup.
Mind you, nor had I. I was just a bit more circumspect about it after Captain July had chastised me for publicly running Mak down one drunken day.
“Hey,” a deeper voice said. “I thought we had a rule—there’s to be no canoodling between two of us without approval from the missing third?”
Ava’s snort was louder this time. She loosened her grip on me and turned around. “Well, if you want to sleep the whole damn day away, dearest April, who am I to judge?”
“You can sound so damn condescending at times, woman.” He tossed off the blankets and jumped down from the top bunk. He was a big man with blond hair, blue eyes, and a smattering of golden hair that ran across his chest and down his washboard abs. It was a trail I’d followed many a time with touch and tongue. “It’s a wonder any of us can tolerate you.”
“You do so because of the aforementioned sex. The others do so because the cook is sweet on me and it gets us extra rations.”
April laughed. “That is also very true.”
He flung an arm around each of us, then tugged me closer and kissed me soundly. “Shall we go find an empty coupling room to celebrate?”
Ava punched him lightly. “Is sex really all you can think about at a moment like this?”
He considered the question for a second, and then said, “Yes, I believe it is.”
I laughed and nudged him. “In this particular case, it’s the anticipation of such that has gotten me through the long drive back from Blacklake.”
“See? It’s not just me.” He gave Ava a told-you-so look then caught both our hands and led us out the door. “Let’s go find that coupling room.”
We did. And the sex that followed was a damn good validation of both friendship and life.
And yet that niggling sense that something was wrong, that my life and my world were about to change in ways I couldn’t begin to understand, wouldn’t go away. The wind whispered softly through my dreams, but her voice was unclear and muddy. I had no idea if she was trying to warn me of what might be coming, or merely playing games yet again.
In the nights that followed, the niggling fears did not become reality. Life went on as it normally did, and I heard no word from Saska, Lord Kiro, or even Commander Stone. While it should have eased my mind, the opposite seemed to be happening.
It was on the fifth night after my return that the Adlin were first spotted.
“All towers report,” came the captain’s gruff order. “We have sleuth movement a mile out. Anyone sight anything?”
I leaned out as negatives ran down the line. A sliver moon held court in the sky tonight and it cast little in the way of light. But if the Adlin were only a mile out, we should have been able to spot them—Sifft night sight was almost as good as any mechanical aid currently in use.
“No sign of movement here,” I said, when my turn came.
“Keep sharp, everyone, because they’re out there.”
Not only out there, but howling.
But no attack came. Not then, and not for the long, uneasy nights that followed.
I had a weird feeling they were waiting for something.
Or for someone.
The wind had its own theory about what was going on and who might be involved, and part of me couldn’t help but wonder if the wind was right.
Because the name it kept whispering was none other than Saska Rossi.
4
Which, in reality, was ridiculous. Saska might have had an Adlin beacon with her, but the Adlin didn’t take prisoners. Not live ones, anyway. Even Ava dismissed the idea as absurd when I mentioned it to her. And it wasn’t as if I could confide in anyone else—not without outing my meager abilities.
The Adlin continued to howl night and day, and though both the Night and Daywatch made several strikes at them, little changed. The Adlin simply disappeared before our attack force could get too far beyond the gates. It left us with nothing more to do than wait and watch. Anything else would simply be a waste of armaments. But their actions went against everything we’d ever learned about them, and unease spread across the ranks.
Six days after their first appearance, just as I’d finished my shift and was walking back to the bunkhouse, a young lad dressed in the blue and silver of the Rossi household stopped in front of me, forcing me to a halt.
“Neve March?” he said. “I have a message for you.”
He held out an old-fashioned, folded piece of parchment and my stomach sank. I’d hoped Saska had forgotten her request for my presence at the masque but it seemed I was out of luck.
I reluctantly accepted the parchment and carefully unfolded it. It said, in quite ornate handwriting, Lord Rossi and his recently returned beloved require the presence of Neve March this coming Monday for the Masque of Pomona and the ongoing harvest celebration. A leave of absence has already been sourced from Captain July.
A leave of absence? That rather ominously sounded like I was required for more than one evening. And while I’d heard many tales of hedonistic festivities that ran over days rather than the one night those of us in the outer bailey were given, I hadn’t actually expected my presence to be required for the entire event.
It made me wonder just why they wanted me there—and whether Lord Kiro, with his sharp eyes and restless suspicions, was the main force behind this invitation.
I swallowed the bitter uneasiness that rose up my throat and forced a smile. “You may tell your lord and lady I accept with pleasure.”
“Thank you.” He spun and raced away.
Both Ava and April were waiting for me inside our bunkroom, as it was something of a ritual between us to relieve the tension and stress of the night with some mattress time. They were the only ones currently here, as Moss and Chet preferred to drink away their tensions before sleeping, and Pen had a lover who wasn’t from the watch, meaning she was undoubtedly making full use of his more private dwellings rather than the coupling rooms.
“Talk about a perfect piece of timing,” Ava said as she and April strolled naked and wet from the washroom. Desire, thick and luscious, teased the air, but it was unaccompanied by the scent of sex. Coupling in a bunkhouse was a brig-worthy offense—apparently the powers that be believed the rule cut down on friction and other petty nonsense. “I was just a
bout—”
She stopped abruptly, her gaze scanning my face. “What’s wrong?”
“This.”
I handed her the invitation. April leaned over her shoulder and read its contents as well.
“Oh my,” Ava said. “This is certainly something.”
“But not,” April said, “deserving of such a woebegone expression.”
My gaze rose to his. “You don’t understand—”
“No, I’m thinking you don’t understand.” He plucked the invitation from Ava and lightly waved it in front of my face. “This is a five-day break from duty, and one that comes with unending feasting and debauchery. Why is that suddenly a problem?”
In any other circumstances, it wouldn’t be. I was more than willing to celebrate the upcoming harvest with as much fervent wantonness as the goddess might require—but that wasn’t what this was about. I was sure of it.
“But it’s tomorrow night,” I said. “And I have nothing suitable to wear and no chance—”
April’s loud snort cut off the rest of my sentence. “Clothes are not a requirement at masques, dear Neve. Not for long, anyway.”
I hesitated, and glanced at Ava. She knew I distrusted all things Rossi right now, but even she didn’t appear to see a problem.
“Look,” she said, placing a hand on my arm. “The masque is attended by both the six ruling houses and the six non-ruling. It’s not like you will have to spend every single hour with the Rossi. I doubt they’ll do much more than an official thank-you, and then you’ll be free to enjoy yourself. As for clothes, you can borrow my silver sheath dress. It’s classy enough for even the Upper Reaches.”
“It’s probably just the uneasiness of the whole Adlin situation that’s the issue,” April added. “But what you need to be thinking is that you’re there representing the Nightwatch, and you need to show those people we unlit are more than able to keep up with their nonsense.”
I snorted softly and rose up on my toes to drop a kiss on his cheek. “You’re right. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I really need to make the most of it.”
