Wind Rider's Oath wg-3

by David Weber

  And, she thought, there really are some things important enough to fight for. “Glory” might not be one of them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

  “Well, it’s not as if you have to make up your mind tomorrow,” Soumeta pointed out. “For that matter, it’s not as if Five Hundred Ermath was going to invite you to take over her duties next week!”

  “I’m sure she’ll wait at least, oh, a month or two,” Tharnha agreed with a laugh, and Leeana had to grin back.

  “But aside from your physical training,” Soumeta continued, “how are you settling in, Leeana?”

  “Better than I expected,” Leeana admitted.

  “It must have been hard, coming from your family,” Tharnha murmured,

  “I imagine it’s hard coming from any family,” Leeana said, and kicked herself mentally as she heard the edge of chill which had crept into her voice.

  “Tharnha isn’t exactly the most tactful person in the world,” Soumeta observed with a grin, and gave the dark-haired war maid a friendly clout on the back of her head. Then the blonde looked back at Leeana. “Still, she didn’t say anything the rest of us haven’t thought, I suppose. In fact, we’re all wondering about why you came and whether or not you’re glad you did.” She cocked her head, gazing thoughtfully at Leeana. “You have to admit, Leeana—we don’t exactly see the heir of a baron wandering around in a chari and yathu every day!”

  “Well, no. I guess not,” Leeana said, then shrugged and looked at Tharnha. “I’m sorry if I sounded offended or something, Tharnha. It’s just sort of a sore point with me.”

  “Where we came from and why is a ’sore point’ for a lot of us,” Tharnha agreed. “And I should have kept my big mouth shut about it.”

  “Well, yes,” Eramis agreed. “But like Soumeta says, we’re all being eaten to death by little bugs trying not to ask you, Leeana.” She flashed a smile at the younger woman. “I mean, if you tell us to shut up and mind our own business, we will, of course. But you have to know we’ll go right on wondering, whatever you say.” She waved both hands over her head. “We shouldn’t, but we’re only human, you know!”

  “Yes, I suppose I do,” Leeana sighed. She considered it for a few seconds, frowning down into the water of her tub, then sighed.

  “Let me put it this way. I didn’t leave my family because of anything they did, all right? It was a political—” She paused. “My father received an offer for me—one I didn’t want to accept.” She made a face. “No one would have wanted to accept it, actually. Father wouldn’t have made me, but there would have been a lot of political pressure on him to accept it, or something like it. So I decided I’d rather be a war maid.”

  She considered that for a few seconds, frowning, and decided it was accurate enough to go on with.

  “As for whether or not I’m glad I came, ask me again in a month or so! I should have at least caught my breath by then.”

  Soumeta laughed, and both of the other war maids with her chuckled.

  “I don’t think it’ll take that long,” Soumeta said. “You seem to be adjusting better than most candidates do. And I hear you’ve already found some extra work to help pay for your horse?”

  “And what a horse!” Tharnha said, rolling her eyes in appreciative envy.

  “Well, yes,” Leeana admitted a bit uncomfortably, remembering Mayor Yalith’s warnings about resentment from other war maids.

  “I envy you the horse,” Soumeta said, as if she’d read Leeana’s mind, “but I definitely don’t envy you all the extra work!”

  “Of course you don’t!” Eramis snickered teasingly. “It would cut into your … social calendar.”

  “You can just leave my social calendar out of this, Mistress Gossip,” Soumeta told her with a mock-serious glower.

  “Why? It’s not as if everybody in Kalatha doesn’t know all about your red-hot sex life, Soumeta.” Tharnha rolled her eyes again, as enviously as she had over Leeana’s possession of Boots.

  “Well,” Soumeta acknowledged a bit complacently, “I do try to do my bit to balance the scales.”

  “Balance the scales?” Leeana blushed as the question popped out of her, apparently of its own volition, and Soumeta’s eyes swung lazily back to her. She hadn’t intended to say a single word, she told herself furiously. What other people did with their own lives was their business, not hers! But, still …

  “Sure,” Soumeta said, after a moment or two during which she seemed to find Leeana’s blush enormously entertaining. “Think of all the years and years and years men have been chasing after women like we were mares in season and they were all stallions in rut. Of course, if we ever let any of them catch us—outside a nice, legal marriage bed, at least—then we were the ’loose women’—” she made what Leeana considered was a fairly obvious decision not to use a few other, cruder terms “—for opening our legs for them. And Lillinara help us if we actually got pregnant without a wedding bracelet!”

  She rolled her eyes theatrically and her friends laughed, but there was an undeniable flicker of anger under the humor in Soumeta’s voice, and the others’ laughter had a hard edge.

  “Given how long that’s been going on,” Soumeta continued after a moment, “I figure it’s time we started evening things up a little. I think we ought to be chasing them for a change. And if one of them decides he wants to spend an evening cozying up to me, well fine. But if he thinks he’s going to nail me down like a good, obedient little girl afterwards, he’s got another thought or two coming. Funny how few of them seem to realize it’s going to be that way, though. And it may show a nasty streak, but I have to admit, I sort of like looking back over my shoulder to watch their faces when they realize I mean ’No’ and walk away wiggling my sweet arse at them.”

  She’d watched Leeana’s face while she spoke, and the younger woman had the distinct impression Soumeta was gauging her reaction carefully. But was that because Leeana was younger, and Soumeta wanted to see how sheltered her pre-Kalatha existence had truly been? Or was there another reason?

  Leeana felt a sudden urge to look at Garlahna and see how she was reacting to the conversation, but she decided that wouldn’t be a good idea. So, instead, she shrugged.

  “I don’t think that’s something I’m going to have to worry about for a while,” she said lightly. “I’ve got my probation to complete, and Erlis and Ravlahn waiting to work my backside off while I do it. Between that, chores, working for Theretha, and mucking out Boots’ stall—oh! and helping Lanitha at the school, too!—I’m not going to have enough time to eat and sleep by myself, much less with anyone else!”

  “But it’s such a waste to actually sleep with someone when there are so many other interesting things you could be doing,” Soumeta said with a wicked smile, then laughed at Leeana’s expression. “Sorry! I didn’t meant to tease you. And I think you’re probably right about how much free time you’re likely to have, at least for the next few weeks. But this is something you’re going to have to think about sooner or later, you know, Leeana,” she went on in a more serious tone. “You’re a war maid now—or you will be, when you finish your probation, anyway—and that means the decisions will be yours. Nor your father’s, or your family’s, or anyone else’s: yours. That’s the reason most of us became war maids in the first place, to make those decisions for ourselves.”

  “I know,” Leeana agreed, remembering her first day’s conversation with Johlana.

  “And it’s the fact that we want to make them which pisses off people like Trisu of Lorham,” Eramis said darkly.

  “Among other things,” Soumeta agreed, still looking at Leeana. “But there’s more to it in his case, too, Eramis. You know how hard he’s been pushing us about everything ever since he inherited the title. Of course he resents the fact that we don’t all ask ’How high?’ any time he says ’Jump!’ But he’s after more than just changing that.” She glowered. “He’s one of those bastards who wants to turn the clock back two or three hundred years and
just pretend the war maids never existed. That we never had a charter at all. And until someone kicks him right in those great big balls he’s so proud of having, he’s going to go right on pushing, and pushing, and pushing until we give him what he damned well wants or—”

  She stopped abruptly and gave her head a short, angry shake that sloshed water over the lip of her tub.

  “Sorry, Leeana,” she said after a heartbeat or two, with a smile that looked almost natural. “Didn’t mean to climb up on my personal hobbyhorse. It just really pisses me off to see someone like him pushing us around—again!—as if we were all still meek little female mice living in a world full of male cats. Or obedient little puppets waiting till they get around to coming home and hauling us off to bed by our hair! Well, we’re not, and it’s time someone pointed that out to him … and all the men like him.”

  “I’m sure D—” It was Leeana’s turn to stop herself short. Dame Kaeritha hadn’t told her she was free to discuss the mission which had brought the knight to Kalatha in the first place. She hadn’t told her she wasn’t free to do so, either, of course, but a champion’s business was a champion’s business, not a subject for bathhouse gossiping.

  “I’m sure Mayor Yalith and the Town Council know what they’re doing,” she said instead, and hid a mental wince. What she’d just said was probably true enough, but it sounded like the sort of fatuous thing a schoolgirl without two thoughts to rub together would have said.

  “Hmph!” Soumeta snorted, flouncing in the water. “Maybe they do, and maybe they don’t. Well, at least some of them do, I’m sure,” she corrected herself. “But this is a war maid free-town, you know. We all get a voice—and a vote—when it comes to deciding what we should be doing. And if this keeps up, Trisu may just find his precious claims starting something he won’t like the finish of!”

  “And about time, too,” Tharnha muttered.

  “In a lot of ways,” Eramis agreed, then stretched and yawned elaborately. The motion arched her spine and brought her shapely bosom free of the water, and she preened like a cat, with a shameless sensuality which Leeana had never before encountered. “I think you’re right about who should be chasing who, too, Soumeta,” she said lazily. “Let’s get what we want from them and let them have the broken hearts for a change.”

  “Hah! Broken something, anyway,” Tharnha agreed with a chuckle.

  “Well, I’m already doing my bit,” Soumeta reminded her with a predatory smile. “But whether or not I can keep on doing it depends on whether or not interfering bastards like Trisu can squeeze us all back into their little toy boxes and lock us up there. And I, for one, plan on chopping a few of them up for dog meat before they manage to do that.”

  “That’s sort of what the Voice said at the Temple when I was at Quaysar last fall,” Tharnha said. Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged just a little defensively. “Well, she did!” she insisted.

  Leeana blinked. She’d heard of the Temple of Lillinara at Quaysar, though she’d never been there. But she’d never heard of a Voice getting involved in secular affairs unless the very lives of women were involved and the situation was close to desperate.

  “The Voice said we should stand up to Lord Trisu more strongly?” Garlahna said in a voice which showed she’d found the idea as disturbing as Leeana had,

  “Not in so many words,” Tharnha admitted. “But she did say she was concerned. That the Mother’s daughters should always oppose and fight people who try to make all women victims, and who else do you think she could’ve been talking about right now?”

  “Voices don’t send people off to war, Tharnha,” Soumeta said. “Or not very often, anyway. She probably just meant we should stand our ground.” The guardswoman snorted. “A Voice can’t go around telling us to push back even harder than he’s pushing us, whatever she might want to say. Not without provoking all kinds of complaints from every lord warden—every male lord warden—in the Kingdom, anyway. Which doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be a good idea, of course. Just that a Voice is a little too visible to tell people that.”

  “Maybe not, Soumeta,” Eramis said, “but you know the Voice thinks we shouldn’t let anyone push us around the way we always have before. You know that.”

  “I never said she didn’t,” Soumeta replied. “I just said she has to be careful about any official position she takes because of who she is. If you want me to admit she’s given her support to people like Saretha and her supporters on the Town Council, then I will. I’m just saying that she’s smart enough and subtle enough to do it in ways that aren’t going to drag her, the temple, or the Mother into open conflict with a lord warden.”

  “You’re probably right,” Tharnha agreed. She didn’t sound as if she really did agree, but she smiled and shrugged anyway.

  “In the meantime, though,” she said more brightly, “did any of you see that good looking blond armsman who rode in with the wine merchant this afternoon? Yummmmmm!“

  She batted her eyes at the others, and Eramis giggled.

  “I wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better, I can tell you that!” Tharnha went on with a cheerful leer. “Look at that arse of his—and those shoulders! You know what they say about puppies growing up to match the size of their feet?” She leered again, harder. “Well, if certain other portions of his anatomy have grown up to match those shoulders—!”

  Chapter Thirty

  Lord Warden Trisu’s office was on the third floor of his family’s somewhat antiquated keep. Kaeritha had been surprised when she discovered that, since his father had built a much more palatial suite of offices into Thalar’s relatively new Town Hall. Once she saw it, however, her initial surprise faded as quickly as it had come. The choice was part and parcel of the man’s entire character, she realized. Its narrow windows—the glass which had been added later couldn’t disguise the fact that they’d been designed as archery slits, as much as a way to admit light, when they were built—looked down on the city of Thalar, below, letting him survey his domain whenever he chose. Besides, one look at the office itself, with its spartan, whitewashed walls decorated without softening with shields and weapons, made it clear no other place else could possibly have been as comfortable for Trisu, however much more spacious it might have been.

  The armsman who’d ushered her into Trisu’s presence, withdrew at his lord’s gesture, and the office door closed quietly behind him. Sunlight spilled in through the diamond-pane windows behind Trisu’s desk, and for all its trophy-girt walls, the square, high-ceilinged room did have a certain airy warmth.

  “Good morning, Dame Kaeritha. I trust you slept well? That your chambers were comfortable?”

  “Yes, thank you, Milord. I did, and they were.” She smiled. “And thank you for seeing me so promptly this morning.”

  “You are, of course, welcome, although no thanks are necessary. Duty to my liege lord—and to the War God, as well—requires no less.” He leaned back in his high-backed chair and folded his hands atop one another on the desk before him. “At the same time,” he continued, “I fear Baron Tellian’s instructions, while clear, were less than complete. In what way may I assist you?”

  “The Baron was less than specific,” Kaeritha conceded. “Unfortunately, when he wrote those letters, before I set out, neither he nor I were certain what I would discover or what sorts of problems I might find myself dealing with.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

  “Champions of Tomanak often find themselves in that sort of situation, Milord. We get used to dealing with challenges on the fly, as it were. Baron Tellian knew that would be the case here.”

  “I see.” Trisu pursed his lips as he considered that. Then it was his turn to shrug. “I see,” he repeated. “But may I assume that since you’ve sought me out and presented the Baron’s letters, you now know what problem you face?”

  “I believe I’ve discovered the nature of the problem, at least, Milord.” Kaeritha hoped her tone sounded more courteous than
cautious, but she was aware that his obvious prejudices had awakened a matching antipathy in her and she was watching her tongue carefully. “It involves your ongoing … dispute with Kalatha.”

  “Which dispute, Milady?” Trisu inquired with a thin smile. His response was just a bit quicker than Kaeritha had expected, and her eyes narrowed. “Several matters stand in contention between the war maids and me,” he continued. The words “war maids” came out sourly, but Kaeritha would have expected that. What she didn’t care for was something else in his tone—something which seemed to suggest he anticipated less than complete impartiality out of her.

  “If you’ll forgive my saying so, Milord,” she said after a moment, “all of your disputes with Kalatha —” she carefully refrained from using the apparently incendiary words “war maids” herself “— are the same at the heart.”

  “I beg to differ, Dame Kaeritha,” Trisu replied, his jaw jutting. “I am well aware that MayorYalith chooses to ascribe all of the differences between us to my own deep-seated prejudices. That, however, is not the case.”

  Kaeritha’s expression must have revealed her own skepticism, because he gave a short, barking laugh.

  “Don’t mistake me, Milady Champion,” he said. “I don’t like war maids. I wouldn’t say that I dislike them as much as, say, my cousin Triahm, but that’s not saying a great deal. I think their very existence is an affront to the way the gods intended us to live, and the notion that women—most women at any rate—” he amended as Kaeritha’s eyes flashed, although his tone remained unapologetic “— can be the equal of men as warriors is ridiculous. Obviously, as you yourself demonstrate, there are exceptions, but as a general rule, the idea is ludicrous.”

  Kaeritha made herself sit firmly on her temper. It wasn’t easy. But at least the young man sitting across the desk from her had the courage—or arrogance—to say exactly what he thought. And, she admitted after a moment, the honesty to bring his own feelings openly to the table rather than attempt to deny them or dress them up in fine linen. In fact, and although she found herself hesitant to rush to assign virtues to him, that honesty seemed to be an integral part of his personality.