by Trudie Skies
Lady Kasara bowed. “Lady Tamina—”
“You’re Salasar’s daughter.”
Lady Kasara smiled. It was a subtle one, though full of warmth. She didn’t look anything like the fabled Sword of Solus, though Mina didn’t exactly look like her father either. “I didn’t mean to hide that from you. Perhaps now we can talk freely.”
Mina’s cheeks burned. She’d snubbed Lady Kasara during the helbond ceremony. “You want to join the Academy, but I didn’t lie—the King won’t listen to me.”
“I begged my father to petition the King long ago, but he refused. He trained me to use a sword—to fight as well as him. But he wouldn’t even ask. He said the Academy wasn’t the realm of women and it would never be allowed.”
“Salasar trained you?”
Lady Kasara ran a hand along her sword hilt—a simple pommel with a single turquoise gemstone molded into the hilt. “To grant me the skills needed to protect myself from men. I think he rather enjoyed teaching me. My mother didn’t allow it, but we ignored her and trained regardless. It was our secret. I… I’ve never had the chance to test my skills. To prove to him I’m talented enough for the Academy. But the temple needs guards—female guards—to protect our Water Bearers from patrons. That’s why I’m here.
“We house women. Lost women, those from broken homes or marriages, or those who lost husbands to battle and cannot bear the soul wound. They need protection. Acting as the temple’s guard may not be glamorous, the other Houses may not deem it worthwhile, but I care little for what they think of me.” She lifted her chin. “Fire Walkers are Lune’s children, too. If Housemen won’t protect them, then… I will. My sword is yours, Lady Tamina, should you want it.”
Mina grinned. Perhaps if she’d been born Malik, she would have married Lady Kasara after all. “Are you sure? It’ll be dangerous.”
“Do you promise? The last danger I faced was offending Lady Fellbond’s choice of dress.”
“Assassins could be hiding in Solus.”
“Deadly ones?”
“The deadliest.”
Lady Kasara’s eyes sparked with a defiance that was all Salasar. “Where do we begin?”
If Emir and his men were targeting Fire Walkers, then he’d know they were being sent to Solus’s temple. And with more Fire Walkers crowding the capital than ever before, it was only a matter of time before he struck again, this time close to home.
They needed allies. They needed Lune’s luck, too. Who better than a Water Bearer?
“The temples. We protect the temples.”
42
THE COUNCIL’S REPORT
The one place Mina could best protect the Temple of Rahn was the Council chamber. It wasn’t her battlefield of choice, but the next day’s meeting may well be her only chance to protect the Fire Walkers before the order came to march her people out of Solus.
But first, Mina found a quiet space underground and got to work constructing a report of her time in Gaisland. She’d never written a report like this during her Academy days and had no idea how to word it. She tried roping Jonan into helping her since he’d surely spent some time writing reports with Talin. But no, Jonan didn’t care for bureaucracy and Talin could barely write with his left hand. Instead, both men were apparently gods-damn useless and had left such tasks for Iman.
Gods, she wished Iman were here.
Mina wrote through a whole stack of scrolls to get the wording right, and then re-wrote it again after Fez smudged her ink. She left her encounter with Prince Wulfhart out; Alistar had begged her not to mention his father’s involvement and she intended to keep that promise. The Hartnords would need to find their own way of proving their innocence. She couldn’t depend on them to prevent war.
Tira watched in the dwindling brazier light. Her mother waggled her finger.
Mina put down her quill and rubbed her eyes. “What? I’m trying to write, and I can’t do that if you keep scowling at me.”
Tira cocked her head with her tongue out in some silly imitation of a corpse, then snapped her fingers as though pretending to summon her flame.
“You’re mad at me because I didn’t burn those bodies in Gaisland.”
Tira nodded.
“Lune forgive me if I prioritize my bleeding friend over some gods-damn raiders. You’d have done the same if it were Talin.”
Tira pulled a face and vanished.
“Talking to yourself again, Sword Dancer?”
Garr leaned by the door with a cup in his hand. By the slight pink tinge on his cheeks, she doubted it contained water.
“It’s Sand Dancer.”
“That’s what I said.” He was dressed once more in his street rat rags, without the blood and dirt of the past few weeks. “You should be sleeping.” He sauntered into the room and snatched one of her discarded scrolls. “What’s this?”
“My report of our trip. Care to write it for me?”
He tossed it aside. “Can’t help you there. Those squiggles mean nothing.”
“The man of many talents can’t read or write?”
“Do you know many street rats who can?”
She bit her tongue. It was only because of Iman that Mina could read and write as well as she did. “Let me know when it’s dawn.”
Garr left but returned only a heartbeat later.
“I said when it’s dawn—”
“It’s dawn, High Priestess.” His eyebrow quirked.
So soon? She had only enough time to change clothes, grab a bread roll, and bolt up the hill to the Keep. The Council was already in session when she burst through the doors.
Prince Ravel shook his head. “So kind of you to join us, High Priestess.”
Talin sat beside him, and his warmth spread through the blood bond. He offered a weak smile but looked gaunt, his cheek bones more prominent than ever. Gods. He looked as though he hadn’t slept or eaten in weeks.
On the Prince’s left sat Gareth the Hartnord. Prince Gareth. How many Housemen knew the truth? More of them filled the chamber than she expected, mostly from the Solander and Duslander Houses. The Gaisland chairs were empty.
“Your report, Priestess?” Salasar commanded.
She handed the scroll to his sorran. Cyrus snatched it with an undisguised sneer.
Salasar skimmed through her notes with a frown before passing it to the Prince. As the Prince read, Salasar gestured for her to sit with the other Priestesses. Lady Sarabond smiled as Mina took her place.
The Prince handed the scroll to Talin, and his amber eyes met hers. “Your report contains some… discrepancies, Priestess.”
She took in a breath. “What discrepancies, my Prince?”
Salasar held up his hand. “Will you give the Council a verbal account of the events in Grenai, Priestess?”
What was the point in writing a gods-damn report if she had to repeat it all anyway? Nonetheless, she stood and related the tale of the burning wagon. And the cause. As the words ‘Rahn’s Breath’ slipped from her lips, she turned to the Prince and awaited his reaction.
Prince Ravel looked nonplussed. “You believe the Fire Walkers were poisoned?”
“It’s there in my report, my Prince. The supplies were checked, but someone was deliberately leaving out canteens of poisoned water, knowing the Fire Walkers would drink it. I believe there has been a misunderstanding—there are no rogue Fire Walkers, my lords. Only innocent Fire Walkers being deliberately poisoned, just as men were poisoned during the Solend.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying I am responsible for these attacks?”
“It is an odd coincidence, my Prince.”
Farzad Fellbond thumped his fist on the table. “Gai’s teat, we’re at war, woman. Do you honestly believe any man in this room would willingly risk our greatest assets?”
“Who else has experience growing Rahn’s Breath and applying it?”
“Watch your words, Priestess. Your treasonous tongue i
s not welcome here.”
The other Housemen murmured their agreement.
She met their scowls with her own. “Are you forgetting who poisoned innocent men during the tournament? Who poisoned your king?” She turned to Kahn Khalbond. “Who poisoned Barahn? Perhaps we should ask the King’s Left Arm for his opinion.”
Gareth had been the one to damn Prince Ravel with his Sight. If the Prince were involved with this, Gareth would uncover it.
“Allow me to put this matter to rest, my lords,” Prince Ravel said. He stood, placing both palms atop his heart in some mockery of honesty. “I swear to each of you on the blood of the Bright Solara that I have not poisoned any Fire Walkers since my arrest. My own father held an investigation and destroyed any Rahn’s Breath. I willingly aided him in his search and allowed guards to ransack my rooms and possessions. I did so as penance. And whilst I will not justify my actions, I will point out a truth: I once warned that our enemies could turn the Fire Walkers against us.”
Gareth inclined his head. “He speaks the truth.”
She ground her teeth. Gareth had lied before to protect her; could he be lying now to protect Prince Ravel? But why would he? Unless he was trying to sabotage their peace, as Prince Wulfhart’s guard had claimed.
Farzad Fellbond raised his hand. “If I may, my Prince, these Rahn’s Breath peppers—how could Hartnords grow them? Their cultivation is supposedly a closely guarded secret of House Rhaesbond, and Hartnord land is all but barren, so they’d have us believe.”
The Prince took his seat. “You are correct, Lord Fellbond. Rahn’s Breath is rare and difficult to grow. I did not come by them easily. In fact—” he glanced to her. “They came from House Arlbond. They grow in abundance in the valley of Arlent. Is that not so, Lord Talin?”
How could the Prince possibly know that? She’d never told anyone about Rahn’s Breath other than Alistar and Raj.
Talin raised his head, weariness in his dark eyes. “Never in abundance, my Prince, and not anymore.”
“What, your House is growing them?” Farzad Fellbond spat. “This is what happens when we allow Rhaesbond blood to enter a House—”
“I already ordered their destruction, Farzad. If the Hartnords are using Rahn’s Breath, it is not coming from our House.”
She tried to catch Talin’s eye, to see if his words were true, but he avoided her gaze and the bond remained quiet. The valley bloomed purple from the Rahn’s Breath flowers her mother had planted. They were part of her history.
The Prince waved a dismissive hand. “Regardless. Thanks to our Priestess’s investigation, we now know that our enemies have the knowledge and means to attack us through the Fire Walkers. This complicates matters.”
This was her chance. She stood and placed both palms onto the Council table. “Rahn’s Breath is indeed dangerous and can turn the Fire Walkers into a weapon against our own army. You all saw the devastation it caused at the Solend. Given the risks, we must remove Fire Walkers from the front lines of war.”
A flicker of a smile graced Prince Ravel’s lips. Almost as though he admired her effort. “Are you admitting that you cannot control your Fire Walkers, Priestess?”
“When poisoned, my Prince. Fire Walkers will be of no danger inside the temple.”
“Not true, my Prince,” Cyrus said. “They’re an undisciplined lot that come and go when they please. And they’re spending our gold on fresh lamb, wine, and clothing. Is this how the Priestess trains them? Is this how they’re rewarded for causing this war?”
There it came. She’d been waiting for it since Cyrus first showed up.
“What is this farce?” Farzad Fellbond demanded. “Our coffers are being drained for extravagance inside the temple?”
She clenched her fists behind her back. “My House is covering the additional expense to feed the Fire Walkers a more adequate diet. Or would you have our ‘greatest assets’ faint on the front lines from a lack of nutrition?”
From across the table, Talin smiled at her, and his warmth bloomed in her stomach.
“And wine?” Farzad Fellbond snapped.
“There’s no wine. Your son is seeing what he wishes to see.”
“The Fire Walkers are being fed and trained on my orders,” Salasar said. “And my sorran is explicitly forbidden from interfering with their training.” He shot a glare at Cyrus.
“Lord Fellbond raises an important issue,” the Prince said. “You allow your Fire Walkers to leave the temple, Priestess?”
“To light the city’s lanterns as per the law, my Prince.”
He stroked his chin. “If our enemies know how to poison the Fire Walkers, then this presents a few problems. We must keep them under close guard so they cannot be used against us. Guards should be placed inside and outside the temples, and any Fire Walker who leaves must be accompanied by an armed man at all times. Even you, Priestess.”
She blinked. “I have a sorran.”
“Your sorran is injured, and far way. Though from my understanding, a bond between a Sandarian and a Bosan rarely works.” He leaned forward. “Did yours?”
Gods, he knew.
The game was up. Her eyes moved to Gareth—a dumb and revealing move, but she couldn’t help it. The Hartnord stared back with his silver eyes.
Lying was not an option.
“No, my Prince.”
Talin looked down at the table, but whatever he was feeling didn’t come to her through the bond. Was he angry? Disappointed? He only looked exhausted.
“I’m sure we can arrange for a suitable guard,” Prince Ravel continued. “Furthermore, any Fire Walkers travelling to or from Solus should also be accompanied. For their safety.”
This had nothing to do with their safety. Had he learned that Fire Walkers were being smuggled out of the temple already? “I don’t require a chaperone, my Prince.” She rubbed a hand over Hawk’s hilt. “I’m capable of seeing to my own safety.”
“It sends a message, Priestess. One I’m sure even you would appreciate. Especially as the Hartnords wish to negotiate with us and have requested your presence specifically, along with our resident Rhaesbond.”
Her heart caught in her throat. “What—what do they want?”
Salasar pulled a scroll from his sahn. “A few days ago, the Hartnords made contact. They’re requesting a meeting in a neutral location and apparently have evidence regarding Queen Vida’s murder—they’re saying they’ve caught the perpetrator.”
“And you believe them?” Farzad Fellbond asked.
Salasar grimaced. “We’ll have our own Hartnord to verify their evidence. It makes no strategic sense for them to request negotiations now. The delay only works in our favor as we seek to rebuild our supply lines and replace the rations and materials lost in Grenai. Neu Bosa has offered to lend us their embassy for the meeting.”
“What, you’re inviting them into Solus?” Farzad Fellbond barked. “You’re blundering into a trap!”
“They’ll be well guarded. And our High Priestess will position her Fire Walkers to deal with them should the worst happen.”
So, her Fire Walkers were to serve as guards and soldiers at last. At least it was happening here in Solus and not far away on some Hartnord battlefield. And it was unlikely Prince Wulfhart planned violence. He was going to make his own case to bring this war to an end before it began. Not only that, if he’d discovered who killed the Queen, then they’d be able to bring her killer to justice and put thoughts of war behind them.
Thank the gods.
“I welcome any chance to avenge my mother’s death,” Prince Ravel said. “Though it’s unfortunate that our Neu Bosan allies seem more interested in this meeting with the Hartnords than providing their promised ships. At least this delay will give our ambassador a chance to explain the Three-Pointed Star’s position.” The Prince’s eyes met Mina’s. “He has much to answer for.”
“I’ve sent for Lord Hiram, my Prince,” Salasar said. �
�We’ll get our answers then.”
“See that the embassy and Solus are prepared.” His amber eyes burned through her skin as though trying to summon Gareth’s Sight. “Is there a reason why the Hartnords have requested you, High Priestess? And Lord Jonan?”
“I couldn’t fathom, my Prince. Perhaps Prince Wulfhart values a Fire Walker’s perspective.”
“Perhaps. Between now and Lune’s Shadow, we’ll all be tested under the eyes of Rahn. And we’ll all need to make sacrifices. Prepare your Fire Walkers. To ensure their safety, their markings must be visible at all times.”
She caught his meaning. He wanted them stripped and humiliated. She gave a brief jerk of her head. Breaking her promise to them left a sour taste in her mouth, but it was a small price for their freedom—and keeping them clothed made it easier for infiltrators like Emir to hide their brand.
The meeting drew to a conclusion and the Housemen shuffled out. Talin had said almost nothing the entire meeting. It was as if her father weren’t there at all. A shadow. The Prince played the Council like his own personal battlefield and the Housemen were soldiers under his command. He’d trained for this his whole life and acted like the King he wished to be. No matter what she planned, Prince Ravel was always one step ahead.
For all her instruction by Iman, Mina had no idea how to navigate a Houseman’s world and its Council. She couldn’t play him at this game. She didn’t even know the rules.
Talin lingered behind. “Tamina.”
She waited until the last man had left and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. It felt cold. Wrong. “You look terrible. Talk to me.” Gods, he wasn’t dying because of the King? She couldn’t bear it.
Talin squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry.” He glanced to the door as it opened and Gareth strode back in.
“It’s safe,” Gareth said, and leaned on the edge of the Council table.
Mina studied her father’s expression. “What’s going on?”
“I dreamed your conversation with Prince Wulfhart in Myryn,” Talin said. “Gareth and I have our concerns regarding their demands. Our priority remains the same—to smuggle the Fire Walkers to safety. Then, if the Hartnords are truly willing to work with us, our House will test Lune’s Tears ourselves. I won’t subject Fire Walkers to a potion which could do more harm than good. We use it on our terms, or not at all.”
