by Sharon Green
The man stood with the woman trembling in his arms, his expression concerned but not overly worried even though he wasn't being allowed to move an inch from where he was. He seemed to be familiar with the ways of war horses, and knew that as long as he let Bloodsheen hold him at bay without reaching for his sword, my mount would not attack. I whistled again, this time in a different key, and Bloodsheen backed off to let the two move as they pleased.
"Thank you," the man said at once with a grin, his hand now patting the woman's shoulder. "I appreciate that almost as much as your sudden appearance. I think you know my sister and I owe you our lives."
"I just happened to be here at the right time," I said with a shake of my head, holding my dripping sword away from them as I walked forward. "I make it a practice never to accept the lives people sometimes think they owe me. I have enough trouble keeping just my own life straight. Do you happen to know why they were after you?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," he answered, his dark eyes going suddenly cold. "A - certain group of people decided I was in their way, that as long as I stayed in business they couldn't complete the stranglehold they want over - another group of people. You deserve more in the way of answers than I'm giving you, I know, but at this point the less you know about these things, the safer you'll be. Will you be visiting our city long?"
"Probably for the rest of a very short life, if I don't get some directions to the south gate pretty soon," I came back, beginning to look around for something to wipe my sword on. I would have enjoyed having more details on the problem the well-dressed man was in the middle of, but that wasn't the time to ask for them. For all I knew my father already had the details, and if he didn't I could always come back and discuss the question of safety.
"Oeran, we must at the very least supply her with a guide," the woman said as I bent to use the homespun of a former bravo on my blade. She still sounded shaken, but there had been no hysterics out of her, and she was clearly beginning to pull herself together.
"I'd take her myself if that wouldn't endanger her, Agia," the man responded, chuckling at what I'd said. "And if I didn't need to get you quickly on your way away from here. I won't give them another chance to use you against me, sister, and certainly won't let you continue risking your life. You'll go home and stay there until this - disagreement - is over."
"But Oeran - !" the woman began, glancing at me in embarrassment as I straightened up again. She could see there was no one around telling me what to do and where I had to go, and she was a few years my senior. What she didn't seem to realize was that I was a Blade, and that that was one of the reasons I'd worked so hard for the calling.
"No buts," her brother said in a final way, grimacing as he looked around. "By the time they find out the attack failed, you're going to be well out of reach. In the name of Evon's glowing hilt, young Blade, you have, as I said, my deepest gratitude. If I didn't owe you, though, I'd be tempted to complain about your manners. The only one of this filth I got to put my hands on was the one holding my sister, and that isn't right. Weren't you ever taught to share?"
"But I did share," I told the faint amusement in his eyes, resheathing my weapon as I looked down at him. "I shared with Bloodsheen, just the way I usually do. You don't hear him complaining, do you?"
"Well, as a matter of fact I thought I heard an unhappy mutter or two when you called him off us," the man Oeran said with his grin back, his gaze flickering to my mount before returning to me. "I could tell it from my own muttering because it was higher up. If you'll wait here just for a minute, I'll see you get your guide. And once again - thank you."
I nodded to acknowledge his thanks, then watched as he guided the woman back through the door by the arm he had around her shoulders. He hadn't introduced himself or his sister, but he also hadn't asked my name, not even in the light of my having gone against the most widely accepted rules of conduct by deliberately neglecting to offer even a false name. He probably thought I was in trouble with the King's Law, and I wondered if he'd hurried his sister inside because he wanted her safe - or because he wanted her away from a bad influence. They might owe their lives to me, but there are certain kinds of people one simply doesn't associate with.
I grinned as I remounted Bloodsheen, glad to have my mood lightened from what it had been. The last time I'd been home no one had considered me a bad influence, an indication of how dull the visit had been. I had no doubt that this visit would be different, and I was actually beginning to look forward to it. This time I could be myself, which my father had always maintained was the best thing to be. I'd show him just how right he was, and then we'd happily get on to family matters.
It wasn't much more than the minute specified before a large group of men came out of the building into which the man and woman had disappeared. They all wore the livery and device of some House I didn't recognize, all but one who wore none-too-clean homespun, a day or two's growth of beard, and no visible weapon. The ones in livery began moving bodies and mopping up pools of blood, but the one in homespun gestured me after him as he trotted out of the court. A touch of my heels and Bloodsheen was right after him, following behind as he led us to a small stabling two streets away. He worked fast getting an old nag of a horse saddled and bitted, and once he was mounted he sidled as close as the bag of bones would come to an impatient war horse.
"Follow behind me, but not too close," he said in a rasp of a voice, his eyes moving around to see if anyone was paying too much attention to us. "I'll lead you to the south gate, and you make sure you keep going through it. If you ever find it … comfortable to come back to this city, buy a drink or two in the Ax and Shield and just wait. Hire or help, it'll be yours for the asking."
He nodded to show he'd been passing on a message, then turned his mount and moved off as though he were going somewhere all alone. I'd noticed that his accent was of a higher class than his appearance, and I'd also noticed that the small fighting man hadn't been joking about gratitude. I had hire any time I cared to claim it, which made me grin even more than I'd been doing.
The old horse had more left in the way of speed and endurance than I would have guessed, so it wasn't long before I found myself directly on the way leading to the gate I'd earlier begun believing someone had moved. The man ahead of me took a narrow street to the right before reaching the gate, his attention on nothing more than shouting people out of his way, so I followed his example and passed the street he'd taken without even glancing at it. For the third time City Guardsmen looked at me without saying or doing anything, and then I was out of the city in the afternoon light, and riding up the winding road leading to my father's castle.
To the castle, not into it. Riding up a road and being allowed inside guarded walls are not things done with equal ease, something I'd forgotten in the presence of the waves of homecoming washing over me. The waves suddenly ended, though, when I tried riding straight in and found a hedge of swords and bodies barring my way.
"Where d'you think you're goin', girl?" a grizzled and burly sergeant demanded, sounding more annoyed than worried about Bloodsheen's rumbles of warning. "The duke don't hire no girl Fighters for his House Guard, so botherin' the Cap'n won't buy you noth'n. Why don't you go home like a good girl, an' find a man the way you oughta."
"But I can't go home now, Sergeant," I said with helpless tragedy and a deep sigh, stroking Bloodsheen's neck to calm him. "One look at you and I knew I was in love, so you can't just send me away. Besides, I'm expected."
"Expected by who?" he demanded in a harder voice, not very pleased with the hooting laughter forced out of the men around him. "Damned smart-mouthed Blades, never seen one yet that didn't need a good, long taste o' real military discipline. If you ain't lookin' for hire, what d' you want here?"
"Frankly, the first thing I want is a drink or three, and then a decent meal," I said, handing over the letter I'd taken out of my saddlebag and tucked into my swordbelt. "It's been something of a long ride."
The
sergeant sheathed his blade and stepped forward to take the envelope, glanced at my father's seal, then pulled the letter out and began reading with a frown. I was surprised to see that he was able to read, but surprised is too mild a word for what the man in front of me felt. The expression on his face changed to stunned shock, and then his washed-out blue eyes were staring up at me.
"I'll be dyed and damned," he said in a choked voice, causing his unit to shift uncomfortably, wondering what was going on. "It ain't the same face, and yet it sure as hell is, five years 'r no five years. I was here the last time you come, but then it was in a carriage, just like the first time you left. What in hell's the duke gonna say?"
"Do you expect me to find out from way out here?" I asked, annoyed at the question he'd put and the way he'd put it. "If it's too much trouble for you to move your men out of the way, I'll go back to the city and get lodging in a tavern."
"Like hell you will!" he barked, totally incensed at the idea. "The duke'd have my skin for a rug, an' me the first in sayin' he had the right. Inside with you now, an' let 'em see to you fit and proper."
He turned to shout his men out of my way, giving them even more of his sweet disposition than he'd sent in my direction, and then he turned back to me with a glower. He must have been ready with a demand as to why I hadn't yet ridden through, but seeing my outstretched hand reminded him that he hadn't returned my letter. He muttered under his breath while he folded it, replaced it in the envelope and handed it back, then, to the surprise of his men, stalked under the stone arch ahead of me. It looked like I had an escort again, and one who liked Blades even less than Timper.
The arch led through the approach tunnel into the wide outer court, which had people moving back and forth on business of their own. Most of them turned to look at the unit sergeant - who seemed ready to walk through anything in his way, including walls - and then moved their glances to me, probably considering me wise for staying on a war horse while I was that close to him. For my own part, I was too busy rolling in the waves of home-return again to really care about the sergeant.
My father's castle was big and solid, designed to withstand the attack of armies, gray and ominous in the sight of many, as beautiful as ever in my admittedly prejudiced eyes. I'd been born in that pile of stone and had spent the first half of my life there, exploring every corner of it and getting to know it even better than most of my brothers had. My mother had always tried to do things to pretty it up and my father, who had loved her very much, had never told her she was wasting her time; she kept trying until the day she died, never having seen the real, true, inner beauty of the place we called home. I had seen it, though, and that perception always made homecoming a very special time for me.
"You grow roots on that spot, Soldier?" a heavy voice demanded, bringing me back to an awareness of the wide doors we'd stopped in front of. "I told you to get Sir Fonid, an' I mean now!"
"Right away, Sergeant!" the boy he'd been barking at shrilled out, and then he was running back through the doors he'd just come out of. A servant in livery just inside watched the goings on with confusion, wondering if he should be holding the doors open or closing them, and then his mind was made up for him.
"Get a stable boy from the watch room," the Sergeant ordered, his tone of command only slightly different from the one he'd used on the Guardsman. "Make sure it ain't one o' the new ones, 'cause they don't know the handlin' o' war horses yet. Get 'im fast, so the lady c'n go inside."
The servant looked the least bit indignant over being ordered around by someone who wasn't noble, but arguing the point wasn't something he was up to doing. He left the doors and headed toward the watch room in a gait that could only be called a dignified run, and the sergeant waited until I'd dismounted, then moved a step closer to me.
"The duke ain't here now," he announced in a tone that almost accused my father of having run away from home at the most inconvenient time. "Sir Fonid'll see to gettin' you what you need, an' don't you go givin' him no Blade backtalk. He only been here three years'r so, but he got this place runnin' real smooth. The duke wouldn't like seein' 'im flyin' in circles, like you done to some before you got sent north. I remember them days, just like they was yesterday, so you watch your step."
"Say, I remember those days, too!" I responded as though I'd forgotten till then, beaming happily at the sergeant. "They were a lot of fun, weren't they? I could use some fun after the long wintering I just went through, not to mention the ride. Thank you for suggesting it, Sergeant."
The poor man started to go purple and he began drawing himself up, so outraged that the words simply refused to come, but he was saved from exploding by the hurried reappearance of the Guardsman he'd sent off, accompanied by another man. The newcomer was likely into his fifth under decade, and was so filled with that special inner calm that his dark hair and well-cut, conservative clothing were probably never an inch out of place. He'd had no trouble keeping up with the hurrying Guardsman, but it was fairly obvious that he was the sort who never had to hurry.
"What problem do you have, Sergeant?" he asked as he came up, his voice as even and calm as his appearance. "Your man here said my presence was required."
"Likely you'll soon be wishin' it waren't, Sir Fonid," the sergeant managed to get out, his glare at me the sort to melt stone walls. "This here ain't just any petticoat Blade, she's the poor duke's bane. He's sure to want to see her, for a minute'r so anyways, so you get to look after her till he gets back. Me, I got gate duty waitin'."
With that he stomped away, undoubtedly planning on chewing up his unit when he got back to them, seeing nothing of the puzzled look he'd left Sir Fonid with. My father's majordomo transferred the puzzlement to me, and then his eyes widened with sudden inspiration.
"Perhaps I'm mistaken, but I believe the sergeant was trying to tell me the one we've been awaiting has arrived," he said, a surprising amount of warmth now in his voice. "Have I the honor of addressing the lady Sofaltis?"
"I'm not sure how much of an honor it is, but I am Sofaltis," I admitted, trying to keep as much of my amusement as possible on the inside. "You might want to ask the sergeant his opinion."
"I think I already have his opinion," Sir Fonid said with an unexpected twinkle in his eye, then stepped smoothly aside to let the newly arrived stable boy dash past rather than into him. "If you'll give your horse to the boy, I'll do what - looking after - needs to be done."
I watched just long enough to be sure the boy really did have experience with war horses, then went inside to join the quietly waiting majordomo. His dark eyes were studying me openly, and when I reached him he began leading the way across the very wide entrance hall.
"I understand you haven't been home for some years now, my lady," he said in a way that made me feel we were already friends. "You and the sergeant, I take it, have a previous acquaintanceship to draw on?"
"I don't remember him, but apparently he remembers me," I answered, giving most of my attention to the house and its familiar contents as we walked. "He seems to remember how … high-spirited I was as a child, and now hasn't much use for the Blade I've become. Just before you got here, he was ordering me to behave myself."
"A rather impertinent attitude to be taking with a lady of the duke's family," Sir Fonid murmured, still inspecting me with those eyes. "A lady nobly born may always be counted on to behave in a proper manner - or so I've found it to be. I hope you berated him soundly for his insolence."
"Berating isn't nearly as interesting as doing things my way, Sir Fonid," I replied, moving left with him toward the wide stairway leading above. "And as for always behaving in a proper manner … Why, of course I do. Don't you?"
I turned my head then to look straight at him, letting him see exactly how far off his calculations had been. I didn't wonder that the household ran well under him, not with all the ways he obviously knew to handle people, but I don't enjoy being handled - or admire attempts to back me into a corner. If I was a "lady nobly born,"
which I was, and that sort always did a certain thing, then it followed that I had to do the same. Sir Fonid looked back at me, apparently understanding that our ideas of "had to" were not going to coincide, and a faint smile curved his lips.
"I think I'm beginning to have a bit more sympathy for the sergeant," he said, having stopped at the bottom of the stairway. "You remind me quite a lot of your father, Lady Sofaltis, which I find myself surprised to discover in a female who is also rather young. Have you already dismissed your escort, or would you like me to arrange billeting for them?"
"I had no escort," I said, allowing him the chance to fall back and regroup as I turned my attention to starting up the stairs. "What I would like is my old apartment supplied with food and drink, to be ready for me as soon as I've finished saying hello to my sisters. Are they still in the same apartments they used to have?"
"Of course, my lady," he agreed with something of a bow as he climbed beside me, his expressionless face saying he would treat me as he probably did my father until he found my weak spot. "I'll escort you there, and then see to the refreshments."
Nothing needed to be said to that so all I did was nod, but I couldn't help noticing that so far my homecoming wasn't much of a joy for those around me. I supposed they would have been happier if I really was the sweet, shy, well-mannered little thing I'd been pretending to be on my last visit, but that was only because they didn't yet know I was going to be my father's heir. Once they found out, of course, it would make all the difference.
My sisters had grown an enormous amount since the last time I'd seen them, and only Sella faintly remembered me. She'd been about seven the last time I'd been home, old enough to retain something of the memory, but Saera had only been five. At ten and twelve they found meeting their older sister an exciting event, especially since I wore a sword the way "ladies weren't supposed to do," and I was almost wheedled into a chair to tell about every exploit I'd ever had. I would have been hopelessly trapped if a servant hadn't appeared then to tell them it was time for their embroidery work or some such, and I was able to escape by promising that I would spend hours with them at another time. They were little-girl disappointed but went with the servant without much in the way of rebellion, not exactly the way I'd done it when I'd been their age. I thought about that as I left Sella's apartment, and was still thinking about it when I got to my own.