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Vows And Honor Book 1: The Oathbound

Page 38

by The Oathbound [lit]


  of forgetting about him again."

  "Lady Bright, not bloody likely!" Tarma shud-

  dered. "We'll be getting messages from the Temple

  every two months, like clockwork; that was part of

  the agreement I made with little Nemor. Huh, think

  of him as archpriest—seems logical now, but he

  sure doesn't look the part."

  "Until he puts on the authority. I could almost

  feel sorry for old Thalhkarsh. I can't imagine a

  worse punishment for a demon than to have sweet-

  ness-and-light preached at him for as long as he

  lives—which might well be forever."

  "And besides—" Tarma smiled, getting up with

  a muffled groan and another grimace, and walking

  over to the window. She leaned out, letting the

  breeze lift her hair and cool her face. "Who knows?

  They might succeed in redeeming him...."

  "Tarma—all this—we both nearly died. I would

  have died with a broken promise to you on my

  soul."

  Kethry paused for a long moment, so long that

  Tarma was afraid she wasn't going to finish what

  she had begun to say.

  She turned from looking out the window to re-

  gard her partner soberly, knowing that Kethry had

  something troubling her gravely. Even Warrl looked

  up from where he lay on Tarma's bed, ears pricked

  and eyes unfathomable. Finally Kethry sighed and

  continued.

  "I guess what I want to ask you is this. Do you

  want me—us—to stop this wandering? To go back

  to the Plains? After all, it's me that's been keeping

  us on the road, not you. I—haven't found any man

  I'd care to spend more than a night or two with, but

  that really doesn't matter to my promise. It doesn't

  take liking to get children. Oh, hell, there's always

  Justin and Ikan, I do like them well enough to share

  a bed with them for a bit. And once we had some

  children, I could keep myself in practice easily

  enough. I could establish a White Winds school

  even without the cash—I'm getting close enough to

  Adept to do that now. I'd rather have better cir-

  cumstances to do that than we have right now, but

  I could scrape along. We certainly have the reputa-

  tion now to attract good pupils."

  Tarma turned back to gaze up at the waning

  moon, troubled. It was true that the most important

  thing in the world to her was the re-founding of her

  slaughtered Clan—and they had nearly died with-

  out being any closer to that goal.

  There were times when she longed for the tents

  of her people and the open Plains with all her soul.

  And there were other negatives to this life they

  were leading. There was no guarantee something

  like this couldn't happen again. Being gang-raped,

  or so she suspected, had been the least of the un-

  speakable things she'd suffered unaware in Thalh-

  karsh's hands.

  Far worse was the absence of the Star-Eyed's

  presence in her soul when she'd returned to her-

  self. And when her goddess had not returned to her

  with Thalhkarsh's transformation, she'd been afraid

  for a moment that the Warrior would not take her

  back with her celibacy violated.

  That had turned out to be a foolish fear, as her

  priest-friend had proved to her. No sooner had he

  cleansed her of the last of Thalhkarsh's magic-

  bindings, then she felt the Warrior's cool and sup-

  portive presence once again in her heart; the asexual

  psychic armor of the Sword Sworn closed around

  her again, and she could regard the whole experi-

  ence as something to learn and benefit from. She

  was heart-whole and healed again—in spirit if not

  in body.

  Still, none of this would have happened if they'd

  returned to the Plains; in the very home of the

  Goddess of the Four Winds the demon would have

  been powerless, no matter what he had claimed;

  the bandit would never have made his way past the

  Outer Clans. And—Warrior's Oath, how Tarma

  longed to see the Tale'sedrin banner flying above a

  full encampment, with bright-faced children within

  and fat herds without. Kethry's wandering feet had

  nearly caused their deaths this time, and Tale'sedrin

  had nearly died with them. And her Clan, as for

  any Shin'a'in, was the most important thing in

  Tarma's life.

  But no, it wasn't the most important thing, not

  anymore. Not if Kethry was going to be made a

  captive to see that dream achieved. A willing cap-

  tive she would be, perhaps, but still a captive.

  Kethry had been right—she had been stifling her

  friend, and with the best of intentions. She had

  been putting invisible hobbles on her, or trying to.

  Her Shin'a'in soul rebelled at the notion—"You

  do not hobble your hound, your horse, your hawk,

  your lover, or your she'enedren," went the saying,

  "love must live free." A prisoner was a prisoner, no

  matter how willingly the bonds were taken. And

  how truly Shin'a'in could Kethry be, bound? And if

  she were not Shin'a'in in her heart, how could her

  children follow the Clan-ways with whole spirits?

  And yet—and yet—there remained Kethry's oath,

  and her dream. If Kethry died .. .

  She closed her eyes and emptied her heart, and

  hoped for an answer.

  And miraculously, one came.

  A tiny breath of chill wind wafted out of the

  north, and coiled around her body, enclosing her in

  silence. And in that silence, an ageless voice spoke

  deep in her soul.

  What is your Clan but your sister? Trust in her as

  your left-hand blade, as she trusts in you, and you shall

  keep each other safe.

  Tarma's heart lifted and she turned back to face

  her partner with a genuine smile.

  "What, and turn you into 'another Shin'a'in brood

  mare'? Come now, she'enedra, we treat our stock

  better than that! A warsteed mates when she is

  ready, and not before. Surely you don't reckon your-

  self as less than Hellsbane!" Tarma's smile turned

  wicked. "Or should I start catching handsome young

  men and parading them before you to tempt your

  appetite. . . ?"

  Kethry laughed with mingled chagrin and relief,

  blushing hotly.

  "Perhaps I ought to begin a collection, hmm?

  That's what we do for our warsteeds, you know,

  present them with a whole line of stallions until

  one catches their fancy. Shall I start a picket line

  for you ? Or would you rather I acquired a house of

  pleasure and stocked the rooms so that you could

  try their paces at your leisure before choosing?"

  Kethry rolled up into the covers to hide her

  blushes, still laughing.

  Tarma joined the laughter, and limped back to

  her own bed, blowing out their candle and falling

  into the eiderdowns to find a dreamless and heal-

  ing sleep.

  For there were going to be tomorrows,
she was

  sure of that now—and they'd better be in shape to

  be ready for them.

 

 

 


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