by Anne Bishop
“Most still do,” Theran replied, “but some landens were resettled as part of Blood villages after their own villages burned during the uprisings.” And making them live so close to the Blood kept them on a very short leash.
That didn’t mean the Blood liked having a landen slum attached to their town.
Bitterness laced his voice as he looked at the shops they passed and the people who watched them. “Damn landens are nothing but a boil on the town’s backside.”
“They’re people,” Cassidy said. “They belong to this land, same as you.”
“They would have driven us out if they could. Took us two years to crush the uprisings.”
“How many died in those two years?” Cassidy asked.
“More Blood than we could afford to lose.”
“And how many landens?”
“Not enough.”
She sighed. “All the more reason for me to see this part of the town.”
Exactly the reason she shouldn’t be there. But it was pointless to argue now that they’d crossed that boundary, and there were other Blood wandering these streets.
Market day, Theran realized. When power—and the unspoken threat of its being unleashed—was another marker on the table, a few coins could buy a Blood family provisions for a week at the landen markets.
“What’s that?” Cassidy asked, sitting up straighter.
“A craftmen’s courtyard,” Theran replied, glancing in that direction. “Potters, weavers, and others of that sort put out their wares. Some even work on a piece to—”
“Stop,” Cassidy said. “Theran, stop the cart, I want to—”
“No.”
*Theran? Theran!*
Shit. The little bitch would yap at him for the rest of the day. And Cassidy wouldn’t be much better.
He gave the guards a psychic tap to alert them as he reined in.
Cassidy and Vae were out of the cart and walking back the way they’d come before he could set the brake and tie off the reins.
One of the guards dismounted and came to stand at the horse’s head. “I’ll keep an eye on the cart, but you’d best shield those packages. Lots of quick fingers here could lift a package and be on the next street before you know you’ve been robbed.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Theran put a Green shield around the back of the cart, then hurried to catch up to Cassidy. If the packages were stolen, it would give the Blood a reason to shake this part of town. If the Queen was injured . . . Well, he wasn’t sure who would be going to war with whom, especially once Sadi and Yaslana heard about it, but no matter who stepped onto the battleground, a lot of the town would burn before the fighting was done.
Cassidy had stopped before a weaver’s table.
Family group, Theran decided. Man, woman, adolescent boy, and young girl. The man had a hard face and a look in his eyes Theran recognized.
Fighter.
“This is lovely work,” Cassidy said, smiling at the girl. “And this is yours?”
“Y-yes, Lady.”
Cassidy stepped closer to the loom and the unfinished piece—and the girl.
The man stiffened.
Theran descended to the depth of his Green Jewel and prepared to rise to the killing edge.
But Cassidy pointed at the loom, not touching child or work.
“What kind of pattern is this?”
“It’s a traditional pattern, Lady,” the woman said. “Dena Nehele has traditional patterns for each season. The girl is weaving a summer pattern.”
“Lovely colors,” Cassidy said, directing her remarks to the girl. “Did you choose them?”
The girl nodded.
“You have a good eye for color.”
By now the other merchants and their customers had stopped their own bartering to watch this exchange. A few had even sidled closer.
But not too close. One slashing look from him was enough to have them reconsidering the wisdom of getting too close.
“Are you planning to sell this piece when it’s done?” Cassidy asked.
Tension flashed through the landens, the emotion so strong it surprised a growl out of Vae in response.
“Why?” the man asked roughly.
“Because I’d like to buy it,” Cassidy said, looking confused. “As I said, it’s lovely work. The traditional design would appeal to my mother, so I’d like to buy it for her as a Winsol gift. If you think it would be completed by then,” she added, once more addressing the girl.
The girl nodded.
“We would be pleased to make a gift of it,” the man said.
If you were any more pleased, you’d choke on the words, Theran thought, hearing the man’s anger and bitterness from being obliged over the years to provide a good number of “gifts” to keep his family safe.
Bristling, Cassidy straightened to her full height. “You’ll do no such thing. If the piece is being made to sell, then you should make a reasonable profit on it. Besides, it’s not for you to decide. This is between me and the young lady. When she delivers the piece to the Grayhaven estate, we’ll sit down and discuss the price.”
Landens in my home? Never!
But Theran saw the man’s face turn white with fear, and he wondered what had happened to other landens who had gone up to the estate.
“Is it a bargain?” Cassidy asked, holding out a hand.
The girl glanced at her father, confused enough by the tension to hesitate.
*You are supposed to shake hands now,* Vae said. *That is what humans do for bargains.*
Stunned looks all around as the people stared at the Sceltie.
*I like this human puppy,* Vae said, wagging her tail. *She has good smells.*
The woman clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were bright with laughter. The man looked like he’d been whacked in the head.
“I know the feeling,” Theran muttered.
A flash of humor in the man’s eyes.
Seeing the change in her father, and intrigued by a talking dog, the girl shook hands with Cassidy, sealing their bargain.
And that, thank the Darkness, would end this visit.
After bidding them all a good day, Cassidy headed back to the pony cart. She smiled at him as he fell into step beside her, as if nothing unusual had happened.
It hadn’t, he realized. Not for her. This wasn’t the first time she had purchased something from a landen.
What kind of place was Dharo that a Queen would shop in a landen village? Or was it that, wearing a Rose Jewel, Cassidy didn’t feel as different from landens as the darker-Jeweled Blood?
He didn’t have answers. Wasn’t sure he wanted any. But he had to let the rest of the First Circle know about their Queen’s potential for doing the unusual.
Vae growled. That was the only warning he had before he heard a child scream in pain and a man roar in outrage.
Theran spun around to meet the threat. When he saw the two adolescent Warlords standing a few paces away from the weaver’s table, he hesitated.
Cassidy didn’t. She ran back to the landen family.
He—and the guards—felt the punch of Rose power and saw one adolescent Warlord get knocked off his feet. The other young Warlord staggered under the punch, but he wore a Summer-sky Jewel and was able to absorb most of Cassidy’s strike.
Rose shields went up in front of the landens. Rose shields went up around Cassidy as she called in a round-headed club and settled into a fighting stance.
“You bitch!” A man old enough to be the Warlords’ father ran toward them. “I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch.”
Hell’s fire.
Theran took a step toward Cassidy, intending to yank her out of a fight she shouldn’t have gotten involved in, since it wasn’t Blood against Blood.
Then Vae launched herself at the man, and Theran saw a small dog who knew her Craft yank a full-grown man off his feet.
And heard bone snap as jaws enhanced by Purple Dusk power closed on the man’s forearm.
&nbs
p; The Summer-sky Warlord launched himself at Cassidy. Theran received another shock when Cassidy bared her teeth and met the attack, using the club with enough savagery to break through shields stronger than her own and drive the Warlord back.
By then Vae was beside Cassidy, Purple Dusk shields around them both.
*Theran? Theran!*
*Prince?* one of the guards said. *What should we do?* Damned if he knew. They shouldn’t have been in this fight in the first place.
*I smell blood,* Vae said.
Of course you do, you little bitch, Theran thought. You bit a man and tore up his arm.
But Cassidy looked behind her, then screamed, “SHIRA!”
The Craft-enhanced sound probably wouldn’t reach the estate, but it was going to shake up the Blood closest to this part of town.
“You hurt my boys!” the older Warlord shouted as he got to his feet, cradling the broken arm.
“They hurt the girl,” Cassidy snarled.
“Landen slut,” the Warlord snarled back.
“Girl. I am the Queen here, and that makes her one of mine. And no one lays a hand on one of mine.”
“Queen, is it? Rose-Jeweled bitch, you don’t have the power to be a Queen.”
“Try me.” Cassidy shifted her stance. “You want a fight? Draw the line.”
The Warlord hesitated. Theran felt the guards recoil in shock.
And he saw everything he’d hoped for going down in ruins because of Cassidy’s foolish actions.
And he saw Gray breaking under the pain of losing her because she wouldn’t survive this fight. Cassidy and Vae against those three Warlords? Even wounded, the males would rip the witches to pieces.
He hated her. In that moment, when he knew what he had to do and choked on the knowledge, he hated her.
But making a choice, he stepped across the boundary of that small battleground. “If you want to draw the line, you do that,” he told the Warlord. “But you won’t be meeting her. You’ll be meeting me on the killing field.”
“And me.” Ranon dropped the sight shield as he moved to guard Cassidy’s left side, his Shalador blade flashing in the sun.
“Us,” Archerr said, flanking the three Warlords.
More sight shields were dropped. More blades flashed in the sun.
Except for Powell and Talon, the whole First Circle was there.
*How . . . ?* Theran asked Ranon.
*Vae called us.*
The bitter anger in Ranon’s thoughts made it plain that he thought the First Escort should have been the one to call the court to the Queen’s defense.
Which was true.
“I need Shira here,” Cassidy said, glancing at Ranon.
“I’m here. Drop your shield, Cassidy, so I can get to the girl.”
More shields. Layers of them going up in front of Cassidy and curving around to close off the area where the landen family huddled.
Layers of shields formed by the Warlord Princes who served Cassidy.
But not the Green. His strength wasn’t needed, and if he added it now, it would feel like a lie.
“You can drop your shield now, Lady,” Ranon said.
The Rose shields behind Cassidy vanished. Shira rushed over to the girl, who was still wailing.
“Let me have a look.” Shira pulled the girl’s hands away from her face. “I’m a Healer. I’m going to help—”
“Shira?” Cassidy said.
“Hell’s fire,” Shira said. Then she looked at the girl’s mother. “Give me a hand. Come on, darling. Come back here with us.” She hustled the girl to the back of the family’s space, where they had a canopy for shade and a small table and chairs.
“Shira?” Cassidy said.
“Let me work!”
It’s bad, Theran thought, remembering other Healers who had that particular tone in their voices.
“That Healer should be looking after my arm, not some slut’s face,” the older Warlord said.
“If he’s the one who threw the stone, I’ll be happy to take care of his arm,” Shira said. “And I promise there won’t be much left of it when I get done.”
All the men, even Ranon, looked startled by the words. Cassidy just nodded.
“Well,” the older Warlord said, “I guess it’s done. We’ll be on our way.”
“It isn’t done,” Cassidy said. “Everything has a price, and your little bit of sport is going to cost you.”
“Now, look here . . . ,” the Warlord began, taking a step toward Cassidy.
Blades were raised in warning. Cassidy and Vae bared their teeth and snarled.
“What is the Queen’s will?” Theran asked.
Cassidy walked over to the loom and stared for too long before she turned back to the men.
“The weaving is ruined,” she said. “From the smell of it, there’s horse manure along with some other muck. Since the streets are dry, the only way to make this kind of shit soup is by making it somewhere else and bringing it here.”
A quick glance at the youngsters’ faces confirmed it.
“So that ruined piece of weaving will cost you one hundred gold marks,” Cassidy said, her eyes filled with a wild fury as she stared at the older Warlord.
“What?” the Warlord yelled. “For that piece of—”
Vae snarled, and the sound rumbled through the whole street.
“One hundred gold marks as compensation for the lost work and as a penalty for not teaching your boys some manners. As for them . . .” Cassidy’s eyes focused on the two younger Warlords. “Ten days’ labor, without using Craft, or ten lashes.”
“I’ll handle the whip if it comes to that,” Ranon said. “And I’ll strip flesh from bone.”
“Shalador bastard,” the Warlord growled.
“Since you understand the Shalador temper so well,” Cassidy said, “your little bastards will work under Prince Ranon’s supervision.”
“Don’t you insult my boys.”
“Ten days or ten lashes,” Cassidy snapped. “Choose.”
“It’s not right, making my boys work like landens,” the Warlord protested.
“It will help them appreciate what someone without Craft has to do in order to accomplish a task. Choose.”
“You’ve got no right!” the Warlord shouted.
Something in the air. Something delicate being weighed down by words. Bending, bending. Almost breaking. If it broke . . .
Theran stepped closer to Cassidy. “She is the Queen of Dena Nehele. Her will is the law. You’ve been given a choice, Warlords, and the Queen’s First Circle stands witness.” And may the Darkness help me, I stand witness.
The feeling in the air was gone, as if a question had been answered.
“Ten days’ labor,” the Warlord said. “And I’ll bring the gold marks when—”
“No,” Cassidy said. “The three of you are forbidden to set foot in the landen section of this town. You come here again, you’ll be exiled from Dena Nehele.”
The guards gasped. Even the Warlord Princes who supported her looked stunned.
“You will report to the Steward of the court and give the payment to him,” Cassidy said.
“Can’t come up with that much all at once,” the Warlord said.
“Then you’ll work out a payment arrangement with the Steward—and if you don’t show up with the payment, the First Circle will be showing up on your doorstep to find out why. And they can take the payment however they see fit.”
*Mother Night, Cassidy,* Theran said. *You’ve just told him the Warlord Princes can rip him apart without penalty.*
She looked at him with eyes still filled with fury.
He didn’t know this woman. Didn’t know this Queen.
But he knew with cold certainty that he was seeing the Old Ways of the Blood, and that under the same circumstances, the Warlord Princes in Kaeleer wouldn’t hesitate to do the Queen’s will.
And he wondered for the first time if bringing the Old Ways back to Dena Nehele had been a mista
ke.
“One other thing.” Cassidy stared at the two younger Warlords, finally settling on the one who wore the Summer-sky Jewel. “If the girl loses her eye because of the stone you threw, you forfeit a hand. This is the Queen’s Justice.”
“Queen’s Justice.”
It was a shout, a battle cry. And Theran heard his own voice raised with the others.
No more fight in the Warlords. No more thinking they could somehow slide out from under what they had done. The predators had gathered and were held by the Queen’s leash. And by nightfall, the whole town would know for certain that these Warlord Princes belonged to Cassidy.
“Prince?” asked one of the guards who had escorted the pony cart.
“Prince Ranon is the Master of the Guard’s second-in-command,” Theran said, nodding to Ranon, acknowledging another truth.
“Escort those three back to their home,” Ranon told the guard. “Prince Archerr will assist you.”
The guard glanced at Cassidy. “I’ll inform the others of the Queen’s command. We’ll make sure these Warlords don’t come back to this part of town.”
The Warlords were led away.
“Lady?”
At the sound of Shira’s voice, they all turned.
Cassidy looked at Shira, then past her.
“The rock came damn close, but it didn’t take the girl’s eye,” Shira said. “I can’t say for sure yet that there isn’t any damage. There was lots of muck and grit in the eye, plus the cut just beside it from the rock. But I’ve got the eye cleaned out and have the first stage of healing salves on the injury. I gave her a sedative. I’ll give her mother another dose for the girl, since her face is going to hurt and sleep will help her heal. I’ll come back tomorrow morning for the next stage of the healing.”
The man stepped forward. “Lady, if we’d sold that piece in the market, we would have asked for fifty silver marks and been happy to have gotten thirty.”
“Today it was worth one hundred gold marks,” Cassidy said.
Theran felt her shudder. That was the only warning he had before her legs buckled.
He grabbed one arm. Ranon grabbed the other.
“Fetch a chair,” the man told his son.
The youth darted under the canopy and came back with a chair. They dumped Cassidy in it and pushed her head down.
“Are you hurt?” Shira asked. “Is she hurt?”