So now what? The question had echoed in his mind a thousand times in the last week. How do I choose between two beautiful women?
Behind him, Aisha’s cursing trailed off as the sound of her horse’s clopping hooves grew louder. Evidently, the Ghandian girl had won the battle of wills. Either that, or the stubborn animal had finally cracked beneath the barrage of Aisha’s oaths.
With a sigh, Kodyn pushed the worry from his mind. He didn’t want to have to think about that, not while the sun hung high in the sky and the day was so beautiful.
The land to the south of Praamis was dusty and dry, though not quite as barren as the Windy Plains to the west. Rocky hills and tall, craggy cliffs rose high in the distance, but the landscape bordering the road was mostly flat, with only gentle crests and valleys in the terrain, like waves of yellow dirt and pale green scrub rather than crystal blue ocean.
Aisha’s horse went from a stubborn walk to a determined trot, forcing Kodyn and Briana to speed up their mounts to match the pace. Kodyn didn’t consider himself an expert rider, but he’d spent enough time on horseback to know the beasts could keep up a steady jog-trot for hours without tiring. With all the jouncing and jolting, it seemed more likely that the riders would tire first.
He was too excited to feel tired. Ahead of him, ten days to the south, waited Shalandra, the city where he would complete his Undertaking and finally earn his place as a Journeyman of the Night Guild.
His mother had fought to keep him a secret from the Night Guild, not wanting him to suffer the same misery and abuse she had during her years of training. Yet when she became Guild Master, she had abolished the cruel methods that had been used to break the spirits of the apprentices.
Kodyn had spent the last nine years training to be a Hawk, the third-story thieves of the Night Guild. He could pick a lock, scale a building, or creep into a sleeping nobleman’s bedroom better than any of his fellow Hawk apprentices—better even than some Journeymen. Years spent training with Errik, the Guild’s foremost assassin, and Ria had prepared him to use the long sword that hung at his hip and the various daggers secreted about his person.
All that training would finally pay off when he attempted to steal the Crown of the Pharus, the most priceless relic in Shalandra. His mother had earned her place as Journeyman by achieving the impossible, so he’d have to do the same if he wanted to make his own way in the Night Guild. That meant leaving home and traveling to Shalandra.
The journey gave him the chance to escort Briana safely back to her father, Arch-Guardian Suroth, the high priest of the Secret Keepers in Shalandra. He also needed to learn more about the Gatherers, the death-worshipping cult that had murdered dozens of Praamian men, women, and children. He had sworn to stop them from returning to Praamis at all costs.
His eyes once again fixed on the broad, well-muscled back of the Ghandian girl riding in front of him. Ria had insisted Aisha accompany him, both as witness to verify that he’d accomplished his Undertaking and for some other, secret Undertaking of her own. Kodyn ached to find out what. If only he didn’t trip over his damned tongue every time he talked to the beautiful young woman!
The sun wheeled by overhead as they rode, until Aisha drew her horse to a halt around noon. Kodyn didn’t complain; his sit bones ached and the jolting trot had left his spine stiff. He welcomed the chance to dismount and share a simple meal of fresh Praamian bread, soft white cheese, and olives.
They ate in tired silence, and Kodyn found himself wishing for a tree, bush, even a stalk of tall grass—anything to provide shade from the bright sun and cool the sweltering heat.
To his surprise, Briana was the first to speak. “Aisha, you are from Ghandia to the north, yes?”
Aisha nodded. “Yes, though I am surprised that you know of it. Not many people this far south know of my people.”
“Ahh, that is my father’s fault.” Briana smiled. “I inherited a love of learning from him, which he encouraged by hiring tutors to teach me everything they could: philosophy, politics, the geography of Einan and Fehl, the religions practiced on both continents, even the martial teachings of the Blades and Indomitables. That last, I fear, I know little of, for there are few outside the Academies that learn the strategies of war and battle.”
“You said your father was a Secret Keeper, right?” Kodyn asked.
Briana nodded. “Yes.”
“Is it true the priests have their tongues cut out?” The words slipped from his mouth before he realized it. He kicked himself as Briana’s expression darkened and a shadow passed over her eyes.
“It is,” she replied in a quiet voice. “And my father very nearly died when the Temple of Whispers learned of my existence.” She lifted her gaze to meet his and sorrow sparkled in her choclat-brown eyes. “It is forbidden for Secret Keepers to marry or have children, for fear that the knowledge they obtain might leak out into the world.”
“If so, how is it possible that he’s still the High Secret Keeper?” Aisha asked.
Briana turned to the Ghandian girl. “Because of who my mother is. Was.” She swallowed and dropped her gaze again.
Kodyn’s gut tightened. “She’s dead?” The question sounded so stupid, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Briana nodded. “Died giving birth to me.” Her face fell, and for a minute she seemed to be wrestling with tears. Finally, she continued in a quiet voice. “She and my father were the only two Secret Keepers responsible for studying the works of the Serenii in Shalandra. With her dead, my father alone retained the knowledge they’d accumulated over a decade of study. The Secret Keepers couldn’t afford to kill him and risk losing their research. They allowed him, and me, to live.”
Kodyn reached out and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for bringing up the painful memories.” He had his own share of memories to wrestle with, chief among them the night that strange, sickly blue-green fire nearly killed him and Ria. To this day, even the open flame of a candle made him hesitate.
“No, it’s okay,” Briana said, and quickly scrubbed at her cheeks. “It is my burden to carry. Mine, and my father’s, together. Thanks to you, the both of you, he will not lose me too like he lost my mother.”
“I’m glad.” Aisha’s voice was rough, husky with emotion.
“Yeah, me too,” Kodyn said. He gave Briana’s arm a little squeeze then pulled his hand away. “We should keep riding. We’ve got four or five hours left before we reach Rosecliff, and the sun’s setting earlier these days.”
Briana nodded and, finishing up the last of her meager meal, stood and brushed the crumbs from her blue woolen dress—a parting gift from Ria. Aisha quickly repacked the bags, secured them to her saddle, and mounted up. Kodyn helped Briana climb onto her horse’s back before following suit. A heavy silence hung over their little crew as they rode on down the southern highway.
As the hours passed, the landscape began to change. The hills and valleys grew more pronounced, the craggy cliffs pressing closer to the road. Scrub gave way to thicker, greener grass dotted with a smattering of hardy plains flowers—evening primroses, milkweed, clovers, and peas—that filled the world with a hint of color.
Relief pierced Kodyn’s weariness as he spotted the highway-side town of Rosecliff in the distance. The town, named for the red sandstone cliff that stood on the opposite side of the caravan route, was little more than a random assortment of stone and wooden buildings clustered around a small freshwater lake. Cattle, sheep, and horses grazed on the lush green grass ringing the water, next to sparse tracts of land where farmers stubbornly fought to grow enough crops to feed the people.
But right now, he felt as if he’d rarely seen anything so beautiful. The light of the setting sun bathed the world in a soft rosy brilliance that seemed to set the red cliff glowing. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d have contemplated making the trek up the narrow path to sit and bask in the twilight radiance. It would be a magical, romantic place to take Aisha…or Briana.
Kodyn led them toward the town’s one inn, a two-story building of wood and bricks that stood at a precarious tilt, as if one strong gust of wind would knock it over. A faded, dust-covered sign above the door proclaimed “Rosecliff Inn”. He dismounted and helped Briana down from her horse, but when he turned he found Aisha still in her saddle, her eyes fixed on something to the north. He followed her gaze until he saw the object of her focus: a graveyard that spread along the south face of a barren hill a few hundred paces north of the town.
Aisha gave a little shudder, her face pale despite her dusky skin. She blinked hard as if trying to clear her vision, then turned away quickly and half-leapt from her saddle. The Ghandian girl didn’t even bother to hitch her horse to the post but strode inside in a hurry.
What the bloody hell? Kodyn’s brow furrowed. What could there possibly be about a graveyard that makes a fierce warrior like Aisha act like that?
Perhaps it had something to do with her Undertaking or the secret reason Ria had insisted Aisha accompany him. Whatever it was, he intended to find out.
Chapter Four
Aisha fled into the Rosecliff Inn to escape the spirits of the dead.
She didn’t want to hear their whispers carried on the wind, see their pleading eyes. She wanted peace.
But deep in her heart, she knew they would not leave her alone. The spirits had claimed her father, and now they had come for her, too.
“Greetings, greetings!” A portly woman with a flour-stained apron and a broad smile bustled toward Aisha. “Welcome to the Rosecliff Inn. I’m your host for the evening, Rose.” She smiled, as if at some great joke. “What can I offer you, young lady?”
“Two rooms.” Aisha held up two fingers. “And dinner for three.”
“Three?” Rose cocked an eyebrow and glanced around Aisha toward the door. “Ahh, that handsome lad and beautiful lass outside are traveling with you? So young, all of you. What brings you out Rosecliff way?”
Aisha found the woman’s habit of speaking without waiting for her questions to be answered beyond irritating, though perhaps she had to write it off at her sour mood. The sight of the graveyard and the spirits hovering above the headstones was enough to ruin anyone’s day.
She managed a curt response. “Traveling south.”
“South, eh? Lots of south to travel before you hit the coastline.” Rose beamed and tucked a stray red curl back under her bright crimson handkerchief. “Anywhere specific?”
Aisha tensed at the question. Perhaps Rose was just trying to make friendly conversation, but life as a slave and a member of the Night Guild had taught Aisha to be wary of everyone.
“Just traveling,” she answered with a dismissive wave.
“Always wanted to travel,” Rose said, half to herself. “I always told my Gerry, Keeper rest his soul, that we’d take a trip north, tour the wine country outside Nysl. Those parts they let visitors see, of course. But running an inn’s a full-time task, especially now that my Gerry’s passed on. Perhaps once Braith and Karlyle are old enough to handle it on their own, or they’ve got wives to tend the stove, I’ll have a chance to—”
“What about the rooms?” Aisha asked, brusquer than she’d intended in an attempt to interrupt the ceaseless, aimless meandering of the woman’s train of thought.
“Oh, of course, dearie!” Rose beamed and gestured toward the staircase at the back of the common room. “Up the stairs, two doors on your right. Keys are underneath the mats.”
For the first time, Aisha took in the interior of the inn. It was a simple place—little more than stone bricks held together with mortar, with an empty fireplace on one wall and a long bar made of weathered wood on the other. Worn chairs stood around the five small tables in the taproom. Only three other people, all wearing rough farmer and shepherd clothing, sat drinking and eating in silence.
“Greetings, greetings!” Rose called out as Kodyn and Briana entered the common room. “Your young companion here was just telling me that you’ll be staying for dinner. I’ve got a fine brace of rabbits on for the stew, and fresh bread a-baking. The finest butter in all of—”
Aisha hurried up the stairs before the chatty innkeeper could draw her into another stream of one-sided chatter.
The Rosecliff Inn was the only two-floor building in the small town. The upstairs held just four rooms—two on each side of the hallway—all smaller than her simple quarters in the Night Guild tunnels. Mats of dyed and woven grass provided the only spot of color in the dull stone and wood hallways, as well as the “hiding place” for the keys.
Not that the keys served much use. Aisha hadn’t learned half of what those of House Fox or Hawk learned about locks and even she could pick them in seconds.
The rooms were small, with just one simple wooden cot topped by a mattress and pillow stuffed with prairie grasses. The room’s single other item of furniture was a rickety wooden chair. A mirror the size of her hand and a clay chamber pot completed the décor.
Aisha dropped her bags onto the chair with a tired sigh. She’d take the floor and give Briana the bed. Kodyn would have the second room.
Ria and Ilanna had given them more than enough coin to make the journey to Shalandra comfortable, and for once Aisha didn’t mind parting with the gold. Here, away from the Night Guild’s persnickety bookkeepers, she could afford to spend a bit more on a hot meal for the three of them and a private room for her and Briana.
By the time she’d shrugged out of her pack and stuffed it out of sight behind the room’s single chair, Kodyn and Briana made it up the stairs. They both had the look of a pole-axed steer.
They didn’t escape Rose fast enough, Aisha thought with a small grin. Let’s just hope there are enough people come dinner time that she’ll only dish out a small helping of that babble with our meals.
Briana looked at Kodyn for a moment, hesitant, before stepping into the room.
“Take the bed,” Aisha told her. “I’ll be more than comfortable on the floor.” In the brothel where the Bloody Hand slavers had chained her for two months, she’d had little more than a ratty blanket for a bed. Back home in Ghandia, she’d grown up sleeping on the ground under the open sky or on a pile of twigs and savannah grass.
“Thank you,” Briana said with a shy smile.
Aisha nodded. She didn’t know quite what to make of the girl Briana. She’d never survive on the Ghandian plains or in the Night Guild, that’s for sure. Too soft and gentle, not enough fight in her.
Briana looked every bit the scholar—or scholar’s daughter—from her soft white hands to her blue woolen dress to her slim build. She spoke in a quiet voice, her manner unassuming, and though she carried herself with the poise of a noblewoman, she lacked the tone of assertive command.
But it wasn’t just that. Even the oldest, blindest elder in her village would have seen Kodyn’s affections for the girl. As the memories of the abuse and horrors sustained during her captivity faded, Aisha found herself drawn more and more to the handsome young son of the Guild Master. She’d fancied him even back when he’d been a gangly youth, but now that he’d grown into a strong, capable thief, she’d noticed that her fancy changed to something more.
So to see Kodyn falling all over himself to be attentive to Briana grated deep down in Aisha’s stomach. She hated herself for feeling that way, but she couldn’t help it. She had nothing against the slim Shalandran girl, but it took a supreme effort of will to hold her tongue when she wanted to snap out.
Had she found herself in such a situation back in her village, she would have challenged Briana to a battle of assegai and makrigga. The two of them would dance the Kim’ware until one yielded to the other. The victor would walk away from the fight with Kodyn as the prize, and the loser would find a new male upon which to lavish her attention.
But this wasn’t Ghandia. As she’d learned during her years serving as an apprentice Phoenix, the people of Praamis preferred a much subtler approach. They courted through genteel words and polite smiles instead of
combat and strength of arms.
Briana was cultured, refined, and educated. Aisha couldn’t compete with her, and that thought only soured her mood further.
“Hungry?” Briana asked with a bright smile. “That midday meal barely made a dent in my stomach, and I’m ready for some real food. That rabbit stew and fresh bread smelled amazing.”
At the same time, Aisha couldn’t despise the young woman. Briana had survived kidnapping, captivity, and beatings at the hands of the death-worshipping Gatherers. The cultists had dragged her hundreds of miles away from her home in order to strong-arm her father into giving them what they wanted. Yet all of that suffering hadn’t dampened Briana’s bright spirit. She had an innate cheerfulness that Aisha hadn’t seen since the last time she’d run through the tail plains grasses with her younger sister the day before the slavers hauled her away. She couldn’t hate anyone that reminded her of cheerful, playful Nkanyezi.
“Sure,” Aisha said with a sigh. “I could use a meal.” To distract herself, if nothing else.
They found Kodyn waiting for them downstairs. He’d claimed a table for them, and moments after they took their seats, Rose bustled out of the kitchens. The tray in her hands bore three bowls and three mugs with watered wine.
Steam wafted up from the bowl, carrying with it the familiar spices of cardamom, cumin, and a hint of something earthy that Aisha recognized as a special red chili pepper she’d loved as a child in Ghandia. The bread seemed to fall apart in her hands, soft with a crispy crust, served with a dish of salted butter. A fine meal, but Aisha’s heart wasn’t in it.
Kodyn had chosen a table next to the window, and through the filthy oilcloth covering she could see the graveyard. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her eyes away from the sea of headstones. And the spirits that hovered above them, invisible to all but her.
She barely heard Rose’s inane chatter, Kodyn and Briana’s conversation, even the sound of the people flooding in and out of the inn. A part of her hated her inattentiveness—she ought to be on guard, wary of any threats—yet she couldn’t bring herself to focus.
Trial of Stone Page 4