“I will help convince one for you,” Shae promised. “I think it would only be necessary to assure him or her that there would be no magic in the finished blades.”
At dinner, Gwynn was afraid the table legs would break under the weight of the food piled upon it. Vaethen ate with the same hearty appetite as the Southrons. “I wouldn’t be able to croak out a note if I ate that much,” she said over her wineglass, watching them dive into a second beef steak each. “Thank goodness, I make Shae buy his own meals.”
“Sharan’s bow; that was well done!” Tye exclaimed.
“You are quite a bit smarter than most people who hire Southrons.”
“I had an unfair advantage. I had already seen him eat a few meals before we conducted our initial negotiations,”
Gwynn laughed.
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A moment later, Shae and Shelah both reached for the half loaf of bread left on the table. Shelah smacked his hand while telling him, “That one is mine, you already had two!”
Shae growled playfully at his friend, closing his hand around her wrist. He stopped abruptly when a gleam of gold on the third finger of Shelah’s left hand caught his attention.
Every Southron, when they came of age, received a ring bearing the crest of their Clan with their lineage engraved on the inside. The ring was worn on the third finger of the left hand and was never removed except for two reasons. The first was death; if a Southron perished outside of their homeland, it was a tradition in Balahar to send the ring back to the Southron’s family. The second reason was when two Southrons exchanged the vows of an Oath-mate; at that time, those becoming Oath-bound exchanged the rings of their Clan.
Shae spun the ring on Shelah’s finger and caught her eyes with his own. “How goes it with you and Laef?
Especially, since you have been so long apart while Vaethen took his training?” he asked softly.
“We are as we have always been, but I thought the morning I left Hasdran was the hardest day I would face.
The next morning and every morning after proved me wrong.” The ache in Shelah’s voice was unmistakable, and the glimmer in her eyes would have been tears had she possessed anything less than the iron will of a Lifeguard. “It was one of the harsh sacrifices we were warned of when we chose our path, but it does not make it any easier.”
“I know that only too well, rashera,” Shae told her, squeezing her hand in sympathy. “Laef is on his way to Samhayne; it will not be much longer.”
“You’re right; I’m expecting them within the month, but it has been long enough already,” Shelah growled. “And you make it worse, since the two of you look so much alike.”
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“Blame our parents for that; neither Laef nor I can help it,” Shae said grinning.
“I know,” his Oath-sister sighed, “but it doesn’t make it better. Why don’t we get something stronger to drink?
That at least will help.”
Shae motioned for one of the servers, asking, “Do you still like Sicarin whisky?”
“I do! It burns enough that I can almost forget my heart was cut out and left in Hasdran,” Shelah said wryly.
When Gwynn took her place in front of the common room’s fireplace, Shae quietly explained to Shelah and Tye how to avoid being drawn into the bard’s music. “You will only miss a little, and you will feel better for it.”
Gwynn extended the time she played that evening, knowing after their late meal, she would be too tired to sing again. Shae recognized the pallor in her face when she came back to the table.
“Little one, you need some rest,” he said. “The sooner you sleep, the sooner we leave for Samhayne.” They all went upstairs, Gwynn tripping on the last step, and Shae wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her. He guided her to the bedroom, reminding her gently to remove her boots and doublet before she crawled under the covers. Gwynn was asleep before Shae shut the door behind him.
“My mother once told me that those with a clear conscience find sleep with the ease of a child,” Vaethen said when he returned to the sitting room and his friends. “So it must be with your Gwynn.”
“In the whole time I have known her, Gwynn has never purposely done anything that would leave her with a troubled conscience. I don’t think it is within her to be otherwise.”
The prince and Tye retired shortly afterward, not because they were sleepy, but because they knew that Shelah 303
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had a lot of catching up to do with her Oath-brother. The two sat up long into the night, sharing another bottle of whisky and talking quietly about the things that had happened to each of them in the years since Shae had left Ranleven.
Finally, when the candles began to gutter out, Shelah stood and put their empty tumblers on the table. “Good night, my long-lost brother,” she said, tossing her bedroll on one of the settles. “I had always hoped that, one day, you would come back to us in Hasdran. I realize now that is not your path, but you are so content; I could not be happier for you. I know Laef will feel the same once he comes to Samhayne and sees you, but we will always miss you when you are not there.”
“As I will miss you both,” Shae told her. “Gwynn tells me that the strange thing about bards is that they always appear when you least expect them, but when you need them the most. I am oath bound to one, so I think you can count on the same from me.”
Shelah smiled. “Good, then I will always look for you when I need you, and I know you will be there.”
“My oath on it, rashera,” Shae swore.
When Shae stirred at dawn, he was surprised when Gwynn bounded out of bed while he was still buttoning his jerkin. “If they aren’t ready to go, we are leaving without them,” Gwynn giggled.
“I doubt we will have to do that,” Shae said. “Vaethen has been trying to get to Samhayne for years. He’s as eager to go as you.”
When they went into the sitting room, the sound of a scuffle reached their ears. Tye shot out of the bedroom door and pulled it shut behind him, holding his weight against the latch to keep it closed. “Damn it, let me out of here!” the 304
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Crown Prince of Hasdran howled through the door. “I am going to Samhayne if I have to jump out the window.”
“Oh, all right,” Tye relented in feigned resignation, letting go of the latch, “but only because you are threatening to hurt yourself, and I don’t want Shelah to have to explain why I let you jump out of an inn window. We will take you to Samhayne.”
Vaethen yanked the door open to meet the amused glances of the four people ranged on the other side of it.
“Good, I’m glad you see it my way for once,” he said with an air of wounded dignity. “I was getting tired of arguing with you.”
They were on the road south shortly, the Southrons scrambling to keep up with their charges, while Vaethen and Gwynn rushed them through breakfast and out to the stables. “Those two are much alike,” Tye grumbled while Rogue and Vaethen’s destrier Bayard left the inn yard at a brisk trot. “They are going to keep us on our toes in Samhayne.”
“Don’t let them hear you say that,” Shelah cautioned.
“We will have all sorts of trouble, making them behave then.”
“Tell me about it,” Shae said, setting his heels against Talon’s sides when their charges broke into a canter through the empty early morning streets toward the south gate. “On the other hand, since Gwynn is so eager to reach Samhayne, we will make damn good time today. Don’t worry about sparing the horses. They will be fine. It’s something Gwynn can’t help but do when she’s in a hurry, but I promise they will be none the worse for the wear.”
Shelah was shocked to see the walls of Samhayne on the horizon just before mid-day, but she was pleased that their horses were almost still fresh. “If she used magic to do that, it’s fine by me,” she whispered to Shae. “I think, 305
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sometimes, you of the Blad
e worry too much about magic, anyway.”
Vaethen and Gwynn slowed their horses together, staring up in awe at the monstrous white walls of Samhayne towering above them, missing the glare Shae turned on Shelah at her words. Gwynn had the feeling that she was in a waking dream, gazing upon something she remembered, but had never actually seen.
“Now, it’s time for you two to behave,” Shelah instructed, pushing Lazar in between Rogue and Bayard, positioning his nose next to Bayard’s left shoulder, just like Shae did with Talon, while Tye and Artis fell in on Vaethen’s right. “We, Lifeguards, have to maintain appearances you know.”
“We’ll go to the house first and have some lunch,”
Shae added, “before I take Gwynn to see her father.”
“What house?” Vaethen asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the imposing fortification of Samhayne.
“Didn’t you tell him?” Shae asked his friend.
“No, I was keeping it as a surprise. I would never have kept him from Samhayne for so long if he had known about it,” Shelah chuckled.
“Known about what?” Vaethen demanded, his attention turning back to Shelah.
“My family owns a home in Samhayne,” Shae told him. “My great-grandfather was our ambassador here for thirty years. We, at least, will not have to worry about finding space for the season.”
“Sabra told me to take our pick of the east wing rooms,” Shelah said.
Gwynn only half listened to their conversation; she was already immersed in the rhythm of the city. Samhayne was so large, and its inhabitants so varied, the city seemed to sing to her while she rode along. They passed through a 306
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second gate at the foot of the bluffs and began to climb them along a road of switchbacks, much like the one she and Shae had descended outside of Robatan.
She found herself explaining to Vaethen that the lower part of Samhayne was the trade district, catering to the goods brought by land and those arriving via the harbor.
“The upper city is where almost everyone lives, except those directly connected to the work on the docks and with the caravans. The different quarters are like miniature replications of the homelands of the people who gather there. My father once said that while the Empire has fallen, Empress Samhayne still reigns over all the lands she once did, just in a smaller way.”
“I don’t think it’s really in a smaller way at all.
Samhayne still controls all of the trade, as surely as it did when it was the capital of the Empire,” Vaethen commented sourly. “That’s one of the reasons Mother is making a state visit. She’s tired of fighting wily Samhayne representatives over favorable trade agreements. She swears she’s going to corner the Shiel Sapphira in a room, post Kane at the door, and not let her out until she sees reason.”
“I would pay money to see that!” Shae laughed. “I’m sure Sapphira’s Lifeguard is going to have something to say in the matter. Braeden and Kane are about as evenly matched as any two men I have ever seen.”
“They ought to be; they have both spent years at the side of the two most powerful women in Balahar,” Shelah said. “With Rayna coming to Samhayne, the Wintertide social season is going to be the liveliest one in a hundred years. I can’t wait to see her Fian turned loose in this city.
Those hairy monsters are going to scare a lot of people.”
“Especially when they eat, since most of them believe using anything but their knives and their fingers is a complete waste of time,” Tye said with a grin.
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After they passed through the gate to upper Samhayne, they headed southeast toward the Southron quarter. Each quarter had its own smaller walls and gates, the Southron one being no different. While they sought the portion overlooking the harbor, Gwynn noticed the respectful nods that came the way of their Lifeguards and the determined glances from some of the Southron children.
She remembered, once more, that Lifeguards were the equivalent of nobility in Southron society, so it was understandable that they would be the subjects of a Southron child’s dreams. The only difference was that every Southron child had an equal chance of becoming a noble, earning it by talent and dedication, rather than by an accident of birth.
Before long, they arrived at an imposing stone archway and rode through into a wide courtyard. A large, two story, half-timbered home faced the archway, and both floors had deep porches across the front and down the sides.
The west side of the courtyard was formed by stables with living quarters above, and through the wide windows of the wing on the eastern side, Gwynn glimpsed full weapon racks around a polished wooden floor, which led her to believe it was a training salle. Before they dismounted, a boy and girl in their early teens raced from the stables to their horse’s heads while an older green-eyed man followed at a more leisurely pace.
“You’re a few days earlier than I thought you might be,” he told Shelah. “From Brashaen’s letter, I didn’t think you would be here until the end of the seven-night.”
“We made good time. Vaethen couldn’t wait to get to Samhayne,” Shelah chuckled.
“I’m certain.” The man’s eyes grew wide as he came around Lazar. “Shae? Gods, I thought you had fallen off the ends of Balahar. Good to see you again, boy.”
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“You too, Kaleb,” Shae said with a wry grin, taking the man’s forearm in greeting. “I don’t think anyone has called me boy, since I left here last.”
“It’s probably good for you,” Kaleb told him with a smirk. “Now, mind your manners and complete the introductions.”
Shae complied, introducing Vaethen and Gwynn, who were trying hard not to dissolve into a fit of giggles at Kaleb calling Shae “boy.”
Kaleb nodded to them before his eyes fell on Rogue, exactly like Shelah’s had the day before. “Now this is a handsome mount! What an unusual color. You’ll have to tell me more about him when you get the time. Come along,” he urged, “let’s get your children settled, so you all can get settled too.”
“Typical,” Tye whispered to Vaethen and Gwynn as they followed Kaleb into the stables. “Those of the Lance are always more interested in what you are riding than who you are.”
“Well, he definitely managed to cut my conceit down to half its normal size,” Vaethen muttered to Gwynn.
“Aye,” she laughed.
After the horses were settled, they went to see their winter home. Shae told Kaleb that they would need Talon and Rogue back in an hour or so, because he was certain that Gwynn would allow him no more time than that for lunch and putting their belongings away.
Gwynn liked the house immediately, deciding while she looked about her that Shae’s family must be one of the wealthier families in Southron, since the furnishings had the formality of any she had seen in a noble’s home. The large entry hall was dominated by a huge fireplace of dark granite, and above it, a portrait of a distinguished looking Southron with fierce blue eyes gazing down on them.
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“My great-grandfather Barak,” Shae told Gwynn.
“That picture scared me to death the first time we came here.
See how it was painted so that the eyes fol ow you? I was eight and quite convinced he knew every time I did something I should not.”
“I can understand that,” Gwynn murmured, thinking that she had seen the same intimidating fire in Shae’s eyes more than once. “He scares me now.”
“Just wait until you meet Brashaen,” Shelah told her softly. “He looks a lot like his grandfather.”
“I’m wondering if I should look forward to it,”
Gwynn said wryly.
“He’s mostly bark and little bite,” Shelah laughed,
“unless you are a misbehaving fosterling.”
“Or a misbehaving son,” Shae grumbled. “Laef and I learned that early.”
A moment later, a tall woman whose blond hair was touched with gr
ay at the temples entered the hall from one of the several side doorways. She stopped and stared for a moment before exclaiming “Shae? Harkir’s Forge! For the last several years, I was afraid that we would never see you again and that I would be forced to nurse my little sister through a broken heart. The only thing that kept me hoping otherwise was that your ring had not been returned to Southron.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Lia. Shelah has been reminding me of my poor letter writing skills since yesterday,” Shae said, submitting gladly to a hug. “This is my mother’s sister, Lia.
She manages the house here and makes sure we don’t break anything when we visit. I would like you to meet my tashera, Gwynn, Gryffyn’s daughter.”
“Well met, Gwynn,” Lia said formally.
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“Please, call me Gwynn, instead. Gwynn is what my teachers called me when I was in trouble, and I heard it far too often growing up,” she giggled.
“Gwynn it shall be,” Lia told her with a smile, before greeting Shelah, Vaethen, and Tye. “I was told to put you all up in the east wing. It seems we will have a full house for the season. Sabra wants the fosterlings housed on the west side where the two of us can keep an eye on them,” she stated, motioning them toward the staircase. “I doubt that this bunch could be anymore rambunctious than the five of you were at the last Wintertide Tournament.”
Gwynn and Vaethen exchanged a quick glance, both realizing the two of them could not have been part of “the five of you.” He gallantly offered Lia his arm while she made her way to the staircase, and Gwynn slid up on the opposite side. “Oh, do tell me, I simply cannot imagine Shae as anything resembling rambunctious.”
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