"What is this?" he asked.
"My blood oath to Hedda. Our first rescue mission." She gave him a piercing look. "Jana was one of the victims we saved. A nine-year-old girl heading for the Marcou slave markets, most likely a waterfront brothel."
Dracken rue! There were many things to hate about this land, but that was the worst. "What happened?"
"A dealer killed Sonja. I decided I'd enough of the dealers."
"So that was where you got the name Sonja."
"She was my best friend." A bleak look crept into her eyes. "Guess I'll be joining her soon enough."
He frowned. His grip tightened. "What do you mean?"
"You saw me die." Her voice shook.
Cianan clenched his jaw. "I can prevent that. I am no average warrior, vertenya."
"Unless they have darkweed."
"Well, aye, there is that," he admitted. "But we have our own secret weapon against it."
Maleta shook her head. "She healed you because you're one of them. Because her husband's your friend and sent her."
"She is also my friend. I left Poshnari-Unai with their blessing... for you. I came to Shamar... for you. I fight Sunniva... for you. Should you fall, Dara would heal you if I asked."
Maleta being Maleta, she started to squirm. But she didn't pull away.
"Sit down afore your legs go numb and you fall over." Cianan sighed over yet another wary look, but to his surprise she did so, closer than he would have thought. Small victories, like taming a feral cat.
"Have you never moved heaven and earth for love of kin?" he asked her. "You have. You challenged Wolf in the name of your family. We ride against the queen of butchers to free your brother, to free Shamar. For love, vertenya." He searched her face. "Do you want to know why I think Hedda released you? Because you are strong in the Light, driven by love. Love for your land, for your people, for your family, and there is no treachery there. You shall see it done, without Her coercion."
"Hedda stands for balance betwixt Light and dark."
"Yet I have seen you struggle with that."
"I'm an assassin, priest. Never forget I kill people."
Cianan shook his head and sat up. "Dark men. Evil men. Dealers, bandits, slavers. You free children. I understand Nerthus is the nurturer, Hedda is the protector. As long as They push for the ascension of Light, you fight for Them. If Hedda were to push for the dark, in the name of balance, would you follow? If She had told you to kill Mother Tam yourself, that it was necessary for the greater peace, would you have done it?"
She lashed out with her free hand and slapped him. Hard. "No! How dare you say such a thing!" Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
Cianan rubbed his jaw, surprised at her strength. "Mother Kitta would, if Hedda demanded it. She cannot use you in such a manner, and that is why you shall go free, vertenya. You and your brother shall live free, once again in your own home. I swear it on my life."
Without Hedda to stop them, Maleta's tears fell. Cianan reached out to wipe them away. His fingers trailed down her cheek, along the path of the scar.
"How did this happen?"
"Interrupted a man beating his wife. I took exception to that. Was teaching him better manners when it happened."
"He got in a lucky blow?"
She sniffled and flashed a rueful, watery smile. "Nay. She did. The wife. I thought she'd be grateful – never saw it coming till I had blood running down my neck."
She could have been blinded if that woman had had better aim. The thought gave him a sick feeling. "You do not have to do this alone any longer."
That teetered on the edge of the life-mate vow. It burned in his chest, screamed to come out, to tell her what elingrena meant. But she was not ready for that level of bonding. The spiritual joining would feel too much like possession unless she trusted him.
She pulled away and rose to her feet. "We should get moving if we want to get to Soto and back in time. I'll hitch the horses. No sense in leaving the wagon." The brawny black geldings stood while she harnessed them.
Cianan saddled Kikeona and the piebald, tying the latter to the back of the wagon. "You have been quiet today," he commented.
Kikeona did not answer, as closed to him as she could get.
He frowned. "I cannot fix what I do not know is wrong."
She sighed, and relented. "There is no going back for you, is there?"
"From Shamar?"
"From her."
Cianan watched Maleta fasten the horses' traces to the wagon. She bent over to hook the chains to the axel, and his body tightened at how her breeches pulled across her shapely backside. He shook his head. If she caught him staring, he was dead where he stood, but still he stared.
"Nay, partner. She is beautiful, she needs me, and I love her."
"She may never accept you as you need, as you deserve. There is a darkness in her. Always her first thoughts are of the worst, not the best."
"This is not a land or a time breeds optimism, and yet she fights to uphold the Light, weak though it is here." Cianan patted her neck. "So valiant, my elingrena, so unwilling to ask for aid, so worthy of the title vertenya. Mayhaps too good for a rogue like me, eh?"
"Reformed rogue, and she is not half good enough for you."
"Well, our reason does not always choose where our hearts would go. What troubles you?"
"I miss home."
"We shall live to see Poshnari-Unai again," he promised her.
"What if your precious elingrena shall not leave her home?"
He frowned. "Why would anyone want to stay here? When all this is over, and Tzigana sits on Shamar's throne and Maleta's brother holds Kunigonde and Bronwyn's Pass, we shall be free to return home. And Maleta shall come with us. Already she thaws toward me."
Kikeona pawed the ground. "Glaciers melt faster."
Maleta strode back to them. "We're ready to go?"
Cianan felt more than happy to escape this clearing. "Aye."
"Get in," she ordered. "I'm driving. You need to save your strength."
Kikeona all but snickered.
Cianan bridled at the mere thought. "I am not an invalid."
Maleta rolled her eyes at him and fisted her hands on her hips.
He tried not to stare at the curve of those hips.
"You almost died," she argued. "Healing or no, that has to take some recovery time. If we ride into battle again, you'll need to rest up. I drive, you rest."
Lady Goddess, she could whip first-year cadets into shape without raising her voice. All the warmth and softness gone, as if a momentary lapse.
Except for the merest flicker of warmth in her remarkable aquamarine eyes.
Cianan clung to that like a shipwrecked man to driftwood. "My death would have troubled you."
"I only just admitted to needing your help, priest," she gritted out. "Don't push your luck. Even yours must have limits."
"So you can admit it when you think I am dying, but not when I am living?" He shook his head. "What sort of logic is that?"
"My logic." Maleta turned away and climbed into the seat, gathering the reins. "You riding or walking?"
One part woman, one part porcupine and one part feral cat. Cianan gathered his dignity and climbed aside her.
"I can't wait to get to a town with a bath." Maleta grimaced. "I feel disgusting. If I have to wait all the way to Soto, I'll scream."
"What about the next farmhouse?" he suggested. "You have to talk to them anyway, for Hedda, right?" He stared at Maleta. A part of him wondered if Hedda would make another appearance.
Maleta squirmed in her seat.
"What?" he asked.
"I wonder who's going to issue the proclamation, me or Hedda," she confessed.
Was the bond working even without the vows, that she followed his thoughts so closely? Cianan shook his head. He gripped her cold hands with his, willing a little of the Light's warmth into them. "Faith, vertenya. She has stepped back, so long as you follow this course."
; "Hedda might strike me down for this, but I'm tired of following this course," Maleta groused. "Or any course. What's so wrong about wanting a life of my own?"
Cianan stared at their joined hands, at how she didn't seem to notice this time. Or mind. He wanted to cheer. Already she pushed for her own future. Goddess willing, it would include him if he had anything to say about it.
"Not a thing," he replied. "Everyone should have the right to their own life, free of harassment and fear. Those who lead the fight to win such a reward need it most of all. You shall not have to do this forever. By the storytelling, all shall be decided."
Maleta finally seemed to notice the heat. "Thanks." She pulled her hands free.
He let her go, turning to watch the trail ahead. The trees thinned out to fields, and yet another farmhouse appeared in the distance. He felt her tense aside him. "It will be all right. Just give them the message, tell them to pass it along, and we can go."
A thin old woman met them at the door. At the sight of their breastplates, she bowed low. "How may I serve, Hedda's Own?"
"Sunniva destroyed Nerthus' Abbey," Maleta told her. Cianan felt her body relax as her own voice pronounced the words. She finished her instructions.
"I'll send my boys t' Delph," the old woman said. "That'll save ye a side trip. Ye can continue straight t' Lann."
"Thank you, little mother," Cianan said.
Maleta urged the geldings on. "Wolf headed for Lann," she said. "His men are stationed there for the winter. We can continue to Soto. We need Cary and the guild."
It proved slow going. The horses did the best they could over the rough road with the heavy wagon. Cianan knew Maleta dared not force them to go faster. He and Kikeona could ride ahead, but he did not want to leave Maleta alone with the wagon.
"We're not going to make it by nightfall," Maleta fretted.
Cianan considered. Traveling after dark was ill-advised; the horses would not be able to see the road. "How far is it?"
"Half a day yet."
"Do you think we could rest at the next farm? Get a hot meal, mayhaps a bath and a bed in the loft?"
Maleta looked doubtful. "Most folks are wary of travelers. Hedda tends to make people feel nervous or guilty. But if we pay, mayhaps. Coin is always appreciated in the lean season."
Cianan considered how many of the mercenary guild were working for the dealers, for just that reason.
Maleta snorted. "Of course, many of the guild will try to give that excuse as a reason to work for the dealers. There must be a better way."
He stared at her, dumbfounded. Once was coincidence, but twice in a row? "What did you say?"
Chapter Fifteen
Maleta frowned at him, puzzled. "Did being resurrected from the dead affect your hearing?" He looked like someone had gotten a good ringing blow upside his head.
"I think it a shame it has to come to this, that everyone has a price."
The horses pulled the wagon around the bend of a hill, and Maleta noted a field of shadow-ferns sweeping back to the edge of the tree line. A feeling of great age and peace curled around her, tinged with healing green. "Feel that?" she asked Cianan.
He nodded. "Weak, benign magic? Aye. From where?"
"Their magic isn't weak, it's subtle." She indicated the shadow-ferns. "Dream-walkers use those for vision-quests. Means a son or daughter of the land lives nearby. Someone who follows the old gods."
"How old?"
"Really old. Beliefs that predate the Shamaru."
"Shall they help us? Shelter us for the night?"
Maleta shrugged. "Depends on which of the Old Ones they've sworn to, but aye." She pulled on the reins, stopping the horses at the edge of the clearing. "We can walk the rest of the way. Don't worry – horses won't touch shadow-ferns."
Kikeona shook her heavy mane. Cianan hopped out of the wagon. Maleta led the way to an enormous oak tree, with a door cut into the base, half-hidden among the exposed roots. A tiny stooped woman with a face like a wizened apple opened the door. She had a peaceful aura like Mother Tam, but felt much more ancient.
"Welcome, children." She smiled. "I knew you were coming. Bring your horses into the woods. They shall be safe here tonight; the dark ones avoid my glen. You need a hot bath, a hot meal, and some sleep. Come now, in the name of Orthia, come in and rest."
"Orthia?" Maleta bowed her head. "I greet thee, little mother."
Cianan gave her an inquiring look.
"She's an ancient goddess of life," Maleta murmured under her breath. "Most people in this part of the world still honor her fertility aspect."
"Please, bring the horses." The old woman smiled. "I have hot springs waiting for a nice relaxing bath for you."
Kikeona appeared through the trees, leading the other horses and the wagon. Cianan unsaddled her while Maleta unhitched the geldings from the wagon and staked them out to graze. Then she freed the pied and staked her out, as well.
The aged wisewoman took their gear into the tree. Maleta ducked into the house. A peat moss fire burned low in the stone hearth. Venison-and-vegetable soup bubbled in an iron cauldron hanging over the fire.
"I'm Namula," the wisewoman said. "Come, come." She touched Maleta's sleeve. "Let me show you where you can wash away the battle."
"Bless you, mother," Maleta replied. Heaving a sigh of relief, she grabbed a change of clothes and followed Namula down a winding root staircase and into a small underground cavern with three pools of water. It intrigued her, this fascinating place of earth and stone, roof and walls held in place by entangled roots. She breathed in the rich, loamy scent of springtime after rain. The tree gave Maleta a sense of immense age.
"You can wash in the lower first. Release the water by lifting this." Namula indicated the rope handle. "There's soaproot aside the pool. The middle is for soaking afterward. Pull this handle to drain the middle into the lower, drain the lower when you are done."
"Thank you." After Namula left, Maleta stripped and stepped down into the hot mineral water, scrubbing the blood and filth away. She did it a second time to make sure. The soaproot smelled clean and mild, a vast improvement from her earlier state. Feeling guilty about soaking in a hot bath when Cianan surely desired to do the same, she dried, dressed and emptied the pool, refilling it with clean hot water from above.
When she appeared above, she saw Cianan and Namula at a small wooden table, deep in conversation. Namula looked up first. "Thought you'd be a bit yet." The old woman rose and poured Maleta a cup of hot tea laced with honey.
"Thank you." Maleta took a cautious sip. Rose hips. She turned to Cianan. "I thought you'd want a bath as much as I did. It's all ready for you."
"I shall take that as a hint." His eyes twinkled when he smiled. Maleta cursed herself for noticing, staring into her cup as he left the room. She looked up to see Namula's amused, sympathetic expression. "What?" she asked.
"He's not like other men, you know," Namula said.
"He's not a man at all," Maleta answered.
"No more man than I am exactly an old woman," Namula agreed. Afore Maleta's eyes, she shimmered into a rough-faced sprite of ancient grace. "I am Namula, and also Celtar, sprite for this tree. Orthia blended our life forces together to grant me long life and power, and to give Celtar a way to communicate and interact with the outside world. But I can never leave the boundaries of this tree. The outside world must come to us – as you have."
"Why would you do that?" The thought of being trapped by a tree for centuries made Maleta shudder.
"There is always a price for knowledge, for power. In order to help my people, I willingly traded it long ago." For a moment Namula looked sad. "I did not consider how the world would move on without us. There are few now who remember the old gods, fewer still honor them. A few wisewomen, healers and midwives, but more follow Nerthus than Orthia."
Pain stabbed at Maleta's heart, sharp and aching. "Not so many follow Nerthus now."
"I know. The Elder Son told me. Orthia grieves for Nert
hus' loss."
"Can you see what will happen with the coming battle?"
Namula sighed. "Nay. My tie with Celtar and Orthia are rooted in the past and the present, not the future. All I can tell you is Queen Sunniva's cruelty knows no bounds and she has angered Hedda, Nerthus and Orthia."
"Why can't one of them strike her down with a bolt of lightning and be done with it?" Maleta cried, frustrated.
Namula handed her a bowl of soup and a crust of brown bread. She patted Maleta's shoulder. "That's not how it works. All three are nurturers and protectors of this land, but always They've used human servants as Their hands. If They started striking people dead, how long would it be afore people came to fear and abandon Them?"
Maleta took a sip of hot broth and sighed. Namula was right.
Cianan returned. Namula got him a bowl of soup, bread and tea, as well as a cup of tea for herself. They ate in companionable silence.
"I would like to do something to repay you for your hospitality," Cianan said.
Namula shook her head. "I have a local farm family who comes and brings me deadwood and peat moss for my fires and who keeps my home in repair. My students bring me food in exchange for lessons. If you wished to do anything, you could bring me some more shadow-ferns, in that bag over there." She indicated a small burlap bag hanging by the door.
"Gladly." Cianan rose and bowed. He grabbed the bag on his way out the door.
Maleta rolled her head on her shoulders.
"You should go have a hot soak," Namula told her. "You get precious few moments to relax, Hedda's Own. Take this one I offer you. I promise you, he won't disturb you. It isn't his way. In the coming days ahead, you must be able to trust him, with more than your life. Your greater and lesser destinies depend on that fact."
Maleta felt foolish. "I thought you couldn't see into the future?"
"I can't, but your life force and his are entwined like these roots." Namula patted the wall. "Go soak. I'll ready your room."
Maleta headed back down. Hearing those words from the old sprite shook her. She didn't want any connection to the paladin. When it was all over and done with, she and Jovan would go home to Kunigonde and Cianan could go back to his home in the east. A naggling thought she'd miss him, that he was good company, brushed her mind. She crushed it down. She filled the second pool with hot mineral water, stripped and stepped in. Tonight she'd rest. Tomorrow they'd join up with the men from the guild and make their way back to the remains of Nerthus' Abbey. One way or another, their fates would soon be decided.
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