that's one reason why some of them are willing to
become mage-familiars. Another is gender. Or lack
of."
"Get'ke?"
"Kyree throw three kinds of cubs—male, female,
and neuter. The neuters really don't have much to
do in pack-life, so they're more inclined to wander
off and see the world."
Kethry broke off, staring over Tarma's shoulder.
Tarma turned.
In the opening of the tree-circle where the road
turned into the paved "court" was—something. It
looked lupine—it had a wolf-type head, anyway.
But it was so damn big!
Kethry pulled herself to her feet and half-stumbled
to the entrance. "If you come in the Name of the
Powers of Light, enter freely," she croaked, "If not,
be you gone."
The thing bowed its head gravely, and padded
into the circle. There it stood, looking first at Kethry,
then at Tarma; deliberately, measuringly.
I bond to you, said a deep voice in the back of
Tarma's head.
Once again she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Li'sa'eer!" she choked, backing a few paces away
from the thing. "What?"
I bond to you, warrior. We are alike, we two; both
warriors for the Light, both—celibate— The voice in
her head had a feeling of amusement about the
choice of the last word. It is fit we be soul-bonded.
Besides, Lady of Power—he turned to look at Kethry,
—you do not need me. You have the spirit-sword. But
you—he turned his huge eyes back to Tarma,—YOU
need me.
"She'enedra," Tarma said tightly, keeping a firm
grip on her nerves, "What in hell am I supposed to
do? He says he wants me!"
"Oh, my Lady Bright—what a bloody mess! It
could only happen to me! Give in," Kethry stag-
gered to her bedroll and half-collapsed into it, laugh-
ing weakly. "A day and a night of spell-casting, and
what happens? My familiar decides he'd rather
bond to my partner! Lady Bright—if it weren't so
damned funny I think I'd kill you both!"
"But what am I supposed to do?"
You could try talking to me.
Tarma gulped, and approached the beast cau-
tiously. It sat at its ease, tongue lolling out in a kind
of grin. She could sense his amusement at her ap-
prehension in the back of her mind. Curiously, that
seemed to make her fear vanish.
"Well," she said at last, after several long mo-
ments of trying to think of something appropriate.
"I'm Tarma."
And I—am Warrl. The creature lay down on the
pavement, and cocked its head to one side. Its—no,
his; it might have been a "neuter" but there was a
distinctly masculine feeling to him—his eyes caught
the moonlight and reflected greenishly.
"I'm not quite sure what I should do about you,"
she confessed. "I mean I'm no mage—what's the
next move?"
You might start by offering me something to eat,
Warrl said, I've come a long way, and I'm hungry. Do
I smell meat-bars? There was something in his men-
tal sending that was so like a child begging for a
sweet that Tarma had to laugh.
"You do, my friend," she replied, rising to get
one for him. "And if you like them as much as I
dislike them, I have the feeling we're going to suit
each other very well indeed!"
Six
They were fortunate; almost as soon as they
emerged from the Pelagirs, they were able to
find a short-term job as escorts. A scrawny, middle-
aged man sought them at their inn within hours of
when they had posted themselves at the Mercenar-
ies' Guild and paid their fees.
"You'll be providing protection for my new bride,"
their employer, an hereditary knight who didn't
look capable of lifting his ancestral blade, much
less using it, told Tarma. "I will be remaining here
for a month or more to consolidate my interests
with Darthela's father, but I wish her to make the
journey to Fromish now, before winter weather sets
in."
"Are we to be the only guards?" Tarma asked, a
little doubtfully. She shifted on the wooden bench
uncomfortably, and wished Kethry was here in-
stead of visiting the tiny White Winds enclave she'd
ferreted out. She could have used the sorceress'
quick wits right now.
"I'm afraid so," he replied with a sheepish smile.
"To be brutally frank, Swordlady, my house is in
rather impoverished condition at the moment. I
couldn't afford to take any of my servants away
from the harvesting to serve as guards for her, and
I can't afford to hire more than the two of you. And
before you ask, my bride's retinue is confined to
one handmaiden. Her dower is to be in things less
tangible, but ultimately more profitable, than im-
mediate cash."
Tarma decided that she liked him. The smile had
been genuine, and his frankness with a pair of
hirelings rather touching.
Of course, she thought wryly, that could just be to
convince us that the fair Darthela won't have much
with her worth stealing.
"I'll tell you what we can do to narrow the odds
against us a bit," Tarma offered. "I can arrange to
set out a little later than you asked us, so that we're
about half a day behind that spice-trader. Anybody
looking for booty is likely to go for him and miss
us."
"But what about wild beasts?" he asked, looking
concerned. "Won't they have been attracted to the
campsites by the trader's leavings?"
Tarma's estimation of him rose a notch. She had
been picturing him as so likely to have his nose in a
book all the time that he had little notion of the
realities of the road.
"Wild beasts are the one problem we won't have,"
she replied. "You're getting a bargain, you know—
you aren't actually getting two guards, you're get-
ting three."
At her unspoken call, Warrl inched out from un-
der the bar where he'd been drowsing, stretched
lazily, and opened enormous jaws in a yawn big
enough to take in a whole melon. Sir Skolte re-
garded the kyree with astonishment and a little
alarm.
"Bright Lord of Hosts!" he exclaimed, inching
away a little. "What is that?"
"My partner calls him a kyree, and his name is
Warrl."
"A Pelagir Hills kyree? No wonder you aren't
worried about beasts!" The knight rubbed a hand
across his balding pate, and looked relieved. "I am
favored by your acquaintance, Sirrah Warrl. And
grateful for your services."
Warrl nodded graciously and returned to his rest-
ing place beneath the bar. This close to the Hills,
the innmaster and his help were fairly familiar
with the kyree kind—and when Warrl had helped to
break up a bar-fight within moments of the t
rio's
arrival, he had earned their gratitude and a place of
honor. And no few spiced sausages while he rested
there.
Tarma was pleased with the knight's ready ac-
ceptance of her companion, and finalized the trans-
action with him then and there. By the time Kethry
returned, she had already taken care of supplies for
the next day.
They appeared at the house of the bride's father
precisely at noon the next day, ready to go. Sir
Skolte met them at the gate—which was something
of a surprise to Kethry.
"I—rather expected you would send a servant to
wait for us," Kethry told him, covering her confu-
sion quickly, but not so quickly that Tarma didn't
spot it.
"Darthela has been insisting that I 'properly in-
troduce' you," he replied, a rather wry smile on his
thin lips. "That isn't the sort of thing one leaves to
a servant. I confess that she has been most eager to
meet you."
Tarma caught her partner's quizzical glance and
shrugged.
The odd comment was explained when they fi-
nally met the fair young bride; she entered the
room all flutters and coquettishness, which affecta-
tions she dropped as soon as she saw that her es-
corts were female. She made no effort to hide her
disappointment, and left "to pack" within moments.
"Now I see why you hired us instead of that pair
of Barengians," Tarma couldn't help but say, sti-
fling laughter.
Sir Skolte shrugged eloquently. "I won't deny I'm
a bit of a disappointment for her," he replied cyni-
cally. "But beggars can't be choosers. She's the sixth
in a set of seven daughters, and her father was so
pleased at being able to make trade bargains with
me in lieu of dower that he almost threw her at me.
Fortunately, my servants are all uglier than I am."
The look in his eye told Tarma that Darthela was
going to have to be a great deal cleverer than she
appeared to be if she intended to cuckold this fellow.
But then again . ..
"Tell me, are folk around here acquainted with
the tale of 'Bloody Carthar's Fourteen Wives?' Or
'Meralis and the Werebeast?' "
He shook his head. "I would say I know most of
the tales we hear in these parts by heart, and those
don't sound familiar."
"Then we'll see if we can't incline Darthela's
mind a bit more in an appropriate direction," Kethry
said, taking her cue from the two stories Tarma
had mentioned. "We'll be a week in traveling, and
stories around the campfire are always welcome,
no?"
"What—oh, I see!" Sir Skolte began to laugh heart-
ily. "Now, more than ever, I am very glad to have
met you! Ladies, if you are ever looking for work
again, I shall give you the highest recommendations—
especially to aging men with pretty young wives!"
That took them from Lythecare to Fromish, on
the eastbound roads. In Fromish they ran into old
friends—Ikan and Justin.
"Hey-la! Look who we have here!" Tarma would
have known that voice in a mob; in the half-empty
tavern it was as welcome as a word from the tents.
She leapt up from her seat to catch Justin's fore-
arm in a welcoming clasp. And not more than a
pace behind him came Ikan.
They got themselves sorted out, and the two new-
comers gave their orders to the serving boy before
settling at Tarma's table.
"Well, what brings you ladies to these benighted
parts?" Ikan asked, shaking hair out of his guileless
eyes. "Last we saw, you were headed south."
"Looking for work," Tarma replied shortly. "We
did get home but ... well, we decided, what with
one thing and another, to go professional. Even got
our Guild tags." She pulled the thong holding the
little copper medal out of her tunic to display it for
them.
"I thought you two didn't work in winter," Kethry
said in puzzlement.
"It isn't winter yet, at least not according to our
employers. Last caravan of the season. Say—we
might be able to do each other a favor, though."
Justin eyed the two women with speculation. "You
say you're Guild members now? Lord and Lady,
the Luck is with us, for certain!"
"Why?"
"We've got two guards down with flux—and it
does not look good. We want out of here before the
snows close in, but we daren't go shorthanded and
I don't trust the scum that's been turning up, hop-
ing to get hired on in their places. But you two—"
"Three," Tarma corrected, as Warrl shambled
out of the kitchen where he'd been enjoying meat
scraps and the antics of the innkeeper's two children.
"Hey-la! A kyree!" Ikan exclaimed in delight.
"Even better!"
"Shieldbrother," Justin lounged back in his chair
with an air of complete satisfaction, "I will never
doubt your conjuring of the Luck again. And to-
night the drink's on me!"
The nervous jewel merchants were only too
pleased to find replacements that could be vouched
for by their most trusted guard-chiefs. They were
even happier when they learned that one of the two
was Shin'a'in and the other a mage. Kethry more
than earned her pay on that trip, preventing a thief-
mage from substituting bespelled glass for the ru-
bies and sapphires they had just traded for.
They left the merchants before they returned to
Mornedealth, Kethry not particularly wanting to
revisit quite yet. Ikan and Justin did their best to
persuade them otherwise, but to no avail.
"You could stay at the Broken Sword. Tarma
could keep drilling us like she did last year," Justin
coaxed. "And Cat would dearly love to see you.
She's set herself up as a weapons merchant."
"No ... I want things to cool down a little more,"
Kethry said. "And frankly, we need to earn our-
selves a reputation and a pretty good stake, and we
won't do that sitting around in Mornedealth all
winter."
"You," Ikan put in, a speculative gleam in his
eyes, "have got more in mind than earning the kind
of cozy docket we have. Am I right, or no?"
"You're right," Tarma admitted.
"So? What've you got in mind?"
"Schools—or rather a school, with both of us teach-
ing what we're best at."
"You'll need more than a good stake and a rep—
you'll need property. Some kind of big building,
stables, maybe a real indoor training area—and a
good library, warded research areas, and neighbors
who aren't too fussy about what you conjure."
"Gods, I hadn't thought that far, but you're right,"
Tarma said with chagrin. "Sounds as if what we
want is on the order of a manor house."
"Which means you'd better start thinking in terms
of working for a noble with p
roperty to grant once
you get that rep. A crowned head would be best."
Justin looked at both of them soberly. "That's not
as unlikely as you might think; a combination like
you two is rare even among men; sword and magic
in concert are worth any ten straight swordsmen,
however good. Add to it that you're female—think
about it. Say you've got a monarch needing body-
guards; who'd check out his doxy and her servant ?
There's a lot of ways you could parlay yourself into
becoming landed, and Keth's already ennobled."
"But for now . .." Kethry said.
"For now you've got to earn that rep. Just bear in
mind that what you're going after is far from
impossible."
"Can we—ask you for advice now and again?"
Kethry asked. "Justin, you sound to me as if you've
figured some of this out for yourselves."
"He did," his partner grinned. "Or rather, we
did. But we decided that it was too big a field for
the two of us to hope to plow. So we settled for
making ourselves indispensable to the Jewel Mer-
chant's Guild. Fact is, we've also been keeping our
eyes out for somebody like you two. We aren't going
to be young forever, and we figured on talking some-
body into taking us on at their new school as in-
structors before we got so old our bones creaked
every time we lunged." He winked at Kethry.
Tarma stared. "You really think we have a chance
of pulling this off?"
Vows And Honor Book 1: The Oathbound Page 16