Elyon's Ghost, page 29
Shirin grabbed her by the collar and slammed her up against the nearest wall. “Shut it, Terro, or I’ll shut it for you.”
That brought some sense back into the Senior Guardian, and she growled but kept her mouth shut.
Sábria pulled Shirin away. “Let her go.” When Shirin released Terro’s tunic and stepped back, Sábria moved in and grabbed the Blade’s throat. She shoved her against the same wall Shirin had used and leaned in until their faces were inches apart. “Apologize to my healer. Now.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Terro’s voice broke. She’d never lost control before, but she was on the verge of tears. “She’s gone. Ghost is gone, and her leg’s not healed, and if she—”
Sábria tightened her grip. “I said, apologize.”
Terro closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. Letting it out, she nodded. When Sábria released her, she opened her eyes and looked directly at Kara. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”
Sábria growled, “Leave it at that, Terro. There’s no ‘just’ about it. You will never speak to one of my healers or any of my Blades, for that matter, like that again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Milady.”
Sábria stepped back and pointed to the door. “Now. Go organize a search party and try to find her.” When Terrowyn nodded and started for the door, Sábria said, “And keep it together, Terro, or you’ll find yourself on the far side of Cibía with one of Khaldo’s friends.”
Terrowyn paused and stared at her Arch Priestess. Those words chased out any last vestiges of the madness that had overtaken her when she’d discovered Ghost had run off. Only when her mind fully cleared did she realize what she’d said to one of her best friends. Lowering her head, she walked to Kara and did something she’d never done before. She pulled her into her arms and held her close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that or called you what I did. I’m sorry.”
Kara returned the embrace. “You’re forgiven. You go find your Ghost, Terro, and I’ll take care of her. I promise.”
They released each other, and without daring to look at either Sábria or Shirin, Terrowyn left to organize a search party for her Ghost.
CHAPTER 29
For the next few days, Ailith filled her time deadheading flowers in the garden, helping with light chores in the kitchen and dining hall, or sharpening her weapons. There was only so much sharpening she could do before she was simply grinding her blade down without cause. By the third day, she was going absolutely stir-crazy. After she’d eaten the midday meal, she thought back to her conversation with Sábria and realized she hadn’t made her promise to stay inside the Temple walls.
Hurrying back to her room with a purpose now, she checked to make sure her two shivs were in the side pockets of her trews, and securely threaded the sheath holding her belt knife onto her belt. Figuring the side gate would be her best chance to leave unnoticed, she nodded to the gate guard and walked out onto the side street. She still needed to pay Master Lowenbrow for the book and decided to head to his shop in the Clayborn District.
When she walked in, she found the tall man sitting in the exact same spot he’d been in the first time she’d come with Jenx.
Seeing her, he leapt from the chair and hurried over. His teeth sparkled as he greeted her with a wide smile and open arms. “Ailith! You’re back! How’s the reading coming? Is the book working out for you?” He grasped her by the shoulders and beamed down on her.
“Aye, I know about half th’ letters, but th ones what change sounds so much are kinda confusin’.”
His brows descended, and he became quite serious. “Yes, the Cibían language is a tricky one, even for native speakers.”
“Native?”
“People born here who learn Cibían as children.”
“Oh, well, Lady Isobel made me learn it when I rode with her. Said th’ Empire had a huge say in what happens all across every kingdom, and I needed to understand it if I were gonna survive and thrive.” She shrugged and grinned up at the stork of a man. “That’s what she always said. Survive and thrive. Anyway, I’m here to dust yer books like I told ya I would.”
He threw his arms into the air. “Excellent! Have you ever used a sliding ladder before?”
“Ach, no. I were just gonna climb the shelves and perch up there while I dust.”
“Ha!” As though Ailith had just made a huge joke, Lowenbrow shouted the word and then leapt over a stack of books and practically ran to a ladder leaning up against a wall of shelves overflowing with books of every size and color. With great enthusiasm, he gave it a huge shove and sent it gliding from one end of the room to the other along a rail made for just that purpose.
Ailith watched it wing across the room and then stared at the shopkeeper. She’d never seen anything like it and silently thought that nobles had way too much time on their hands if they could build something as frivolous as a moving ladder. Scratching her head, she headed to the end of the shelves. “Do ya have a duster?”
Lowenbrow nodded. “Somewhere around here.” As he’d done the first time they’d come, he began pulling open drawers and sifting through stacks of books until he pulled a large feather duster from beneath an enormous tome with a flourish. He held it high, and when he noticed her staring up at it, he took a closer look. “Uh oh.” The book had smashed the feathers into something resembling a forlorn, flattened chicken. “Will this do?”
“Aye, unless ya have a clean rag?”
Again, he scratched just behind his ear. “Somewhere.”
Before he could begin the search again, Ailith grabbed the duster. “I’ll use this.”
The muscles in her left thigh were sore from when she’d had to pivot into the battlemare’s flanks and then had to immediately jump and lunge to get away from her back hooves. Using her right leg to push up and only using her left to hold her weight, she climbed to the top of the ladder and began pulling out books and running the feather duster over the front and rear cover and spine of every book she could reach. She’d been at it for a candlemark or so when the door opened and closed behind her.
Not really caring who’d come in, she continued dusting and vaguely heard the shopkeeper when he greeted the newcomer.
“My Lady. Welcome to Between the Covers, where you’ll find any book on any subject.”
The answering voice reminded Ailith of rich, dark honey. “And what if I don’t?”
Master Lowenbrow clapped his hands and answered enthusiastically. “Then I will scour the world of books and locate it for you.” There was a pause, and then, “I’m Nevim Lowenbrow, Nev to my friends.”
“Ryn Farryn.”
Ailith tried to remember where she’d heard that name before. As she pulled out the next book, she glanced down at the two speakers and immediately recognized the Lady Knight she and Jenx had met in Market Square. The woman glanced up at her, and Ailith didn’t think she was even remotely surprised to find her there.
Oblivious to the silent exchange, Nev chattered on. “Oh! From across the street! You’d already gone into training as a page by the time I’d opened my shop. Let me guess. You look like someone who loves history. Cibían history? Or perhaps the history of the lessor known Kings of Tuviste? Or, let me see, perhaps you’re one who enjoys a pictorial look at swords through the ages?”
Ailith had returned to her dusting, but she heard amusement in the lady’s voice when she answered, “Actually, I’m more in the mood for something light. Do you have any wicked romance? Perhaps the forbidden kind where a noble meets someone considered by society to be unacceptable or beneath them?”
Ailith glanced over her shoulder in time to see Nev clap his hands again and actually squirm. “Oh! How delicious. I think I have just the thing. It only came in a fortnight ago, and I have to tell you, it’s kept me up several nights in a row.” He giggled, “It’s very naughty. Have you read, On the Edge of My Knight by Hemeth Quimby?”
The lady grinned now and refrained from glancing up at Ailith. “I’ve heard of it. That sounds like just the thing I’m looking for.”
“Wonderful. Let me run get it. I have several new copies in the back.”
When he ran off, Ryn slowly raised her gaze to Ailith and said with a low, sensual drawl, “What a surprise to see you here, Ailith.”
A slow grin spread across Ailith’s face. “Yer not surprised, Milady.”
Ryn responded with an answering grin of her own. “No, I’m not. Truth be told, I was sitting in my window,” she pointed to a three-story lodging house across the street, “and saw you come in, but never saw you come out. Do you enjoy reading so much, then? Or do you simply like dusting books?”
“Can’t read.”
The brows rose. “Dusting then. Interesting. Do all shivs do extra work to supplement their earnings at the Temple?” They heard Nev returning, and Ryn caught and held her gaze, “Second floor, middle room. Perhaps I can read a bit of my new book to you, hmmm?”
“Here it is!” Nev held the book above his head and very nearly hit the lintel of the square opening separating one room from the next. “Two silver riels and the delicious world of Lady Knight Larisa will open at your touch.”
Ryn chuckled and looked down at the floor before pulling out her belt purse. She extracted two silver coins and placed them into Nev’s outstretched hand. As Nev busied himself searching for a bag, Ryn flicked an amused glance up at Ailith. “I can hardly wait.”
Nev turned and grinned broadly at her. “You’re going to love it.”
Ryn thanked the bookseller and, with a parting wave, left the shop.
Ailith watched her go, admiring muscular thighs some people would consider too large on a woman. The way her trews hugged an equally muscular backside wasn’t bad either. She stared after the Knight who crossed the street and disappeared through the doors of a large rooming house.
Ailith was drawn to powerfully built women and couldn’t help smiling at the invitation she’d just received. An invitation from a strong woman, combined with a hint of stepping over the line, was quite tempting, especially since they were two things she could usually count on to add spice and fun to an otherwise tedious afternoon.
She finished the last two books of the section and pushed the ladder over a few feet. While she whisked the feathers across the leather covers, she remembered the sparkle in the Lady Knight’s teasing green eyes. It was tempting, no doubt about that. She’d slept with her fair share of women and wasn’t the least bit shy about having casual sex.
The thought flitted through her mind, though, that the Arch Priestess might not be too happy with her playing those kinds of games with a noblewoman. And not just any noblewoman. One that the Priestess had brought with her down to the docks. She wondered how well Sábria knew the Knight and if that friendship was something she needed to steer clear of. Well, she could at least get those questions answered anyway, and then she could decide if eating the apple would be worth the possibility of biting into the worm.
Nev strode to the bottom of her ladder. “I’m afraid that’s all for today, Ailith. I’m having tea with a good friend and need to lock up the shop.” He squinted up at the books she’d dusted. “Excellent job! Keep track of your candlemarks, will you? I’ll never remember. I’m horrible at keeping track of things. Slightly addlebrained at times.”
“I doubt that, Master Lowenbrow.” Ailith made her way down the ladder, and when she stepped onto the floor, she handed him the duster.
He absently took it from her and tapped the side of his leg with the feathers, adding a new layer of dust to his already dusty trews. “Call me Nev. Remember?”
“Aye. Ya might want to put that someplace where a heavy book don’t squish it, eh?”
He squinted at her. “What?”
She pointed at the duster, and his brows rose. “Oh! Right.” He dropped down to his knees so quickly she thought he’d had a fit or possibly something worse. He jerked open a drawer and threw the duster down on a stack of parchment. “There. That’ll do. Now we’ll just have to remember where we put it the next time you come.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow if ye’ll be open.”
“Perfect! I’ll see you then.” He saw Ailith to the door, waved as he shut it behind her, and flipped a sign hanging in the window to “closed.”
Ailith turned and hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her trews. The lodging house was one of the nicer ones on the street. A new coat of blue paint shone in the afternoon sun, and flowers cascaded from boxes beneath the four first-story windows. All of the windows on every floor had a new coat of fresh, white paint. The ornate, single front door was also white, and hip-high statues of maidens carrying overflowing pots on their shoulders stood to either side.
Ailith crossed the road and tried the door. Finding it locked, she knocked on one of the four blurred windowpanes in the top panel. After a moment, a figure warped by the bubbled glass approached and pulled open the door. A trim-waisted older woman wearing a black maid’s dress with a white, full-length apron greeted her with a bland expression. “Yes?”
With that one word, the hope that she could simply trot upstairs without having to open her mouth evaporated. Ailith paused a moment while she considered what to say. Whenever she spoke around nobility or those who worked for the upper classes, they immediately pegged her as coming from peasant stock. Suddenly feeling awkward and out of place, she shook her head and stepped back. “I’m in th’ wrong place, yer ladyship. Sorry.”
The woman surprised her by rolling her eyes and opening the door wider. “Get in here, Child. I don’t bite, and I don’t care about your pedigree. Lady Farryn is expecting you. Second floor—” The brown eyes were stern but kind, belying the first impression Ailith had gotten at seeing the grey hair pulled back into a severe, perfectly pinned bun.
“Th’ room in th’ middle. Aye, thanks.” She considered walking away despite the warm welcome but then decided all she had to return to was more busy work in the dining hall. That thought propelled her forward into a large hallway with a sitting room to her immediate right and a closed door on the left.
Fresh flowers in a blue vase sat in the middle of an ornate three-legged table. A painting of three women in flowing evening gowns sipping tea in an outdoor garden hung above the table. Ailith blinked when she realized each woman had a single breast exposed to the obviously cool morning air.
Her brows rose, and she stupidly blinked over her shoulder at the maid, who was watching her with amused forbearance. “Lady Farryn’s mother is an artist of some renown. Most of the rooms are decorated with her paintings.”
Not knowing what to say, Ailith simply nodded. “Um. Nice paintin’. She lives here, too, does she?”
“This is her home, yes.”
“Her…?” She turned and again stared stupidly at the woman before deciding that instead of saying all the inane things that had popped into her head, she’d be better off heading to the second floor to find the Lady Knight. “If ye’ll excuse me, yer ladyship.”
The woman chuckled quietly and waved to the stairs. “My name is Bela. We can dispense with the ladyship if you don’t mind.”
“Uh. Aye. Okay.” Feeling inordinately relieved to finally be climbing to the second floor, Ailith studied the smaller paintings hung at various levels on the wall as she ascended. She quietly mumbled, “Th’ lady enjoys a good pair ’a tits, that’s fer damn sure.”
Since there were only three doors on the second-floor landing, it was easy to find Lady Farryn’s room. Ailith knocked, and when the door opened, the lady stepped back and motioned Ailith inside. “Glad you decided to come. Can I pour you a drink?” She walked to a small bar on the side of the room and poured some ale into a metal tankard like those found in the alehouses.
“Uh, no thanks. I don’t drink spirits. They make me mean and loosen me tongue.”
Ryn looked at the tankard and shrugged. “I guess I’ll have this one, then. How about some orange juice?”
“Orange juice? Well, aye, that’d be good.” Even though the Knight was only a few years older than she, the expensive furnishings and oversized, colorful rug spread in front of a maroon leather sofa drove home the vast differences in their social standing. Ailith awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, not sure where she should go or what she should do. She was torn between wanting to get to know this woman better and knowing she could never hope to have her.
Lady Farryn stood with her back to her while she poured the juice, and Ailith’s eyes were once again drawn to the way the tight trews flowed over a beautiful, rounded backside, but then she reminded herself that a wealthy Lady Knight was off limits to a peasant like her.
On the other hand, she could picture herself running her hands down those wide shoulders while she rubbed up against the woman’s ample breasts. Unfortunately, the tunic’s material alone had to cost more than she’d make in an entire turn back in Dreyutha, so she sighed and forced her attention back to the room’s elegant furnishings.
Every moment that passed increased her anxiety tenfold, and she wished wholeheartedly that she’d gone back to the Temple instead of stupidly getting herself into this predicament. She’d thought this was nothing more than an upscale boarding house, but to find out it was Lady Farryn’s family home meant that this Lady Knight came from a seriously wealthy and influential family.
While she’d been pulling the bellows, Ryn had come over and was standing in front of her with her head cocked to the side. “Are you okay? You look like you want to run away and never come back.” She set the juice on a side table and studied the blush rising on Ailith’s face.
Finding it difficult to breathe, something that happened when she’d gotten herself in above her head, Ailith just looked at the ground.
Ryn stepped closer, put her hand beneath Ailith’s chin, and quietly said, “Maybe this will help.” She leaned in and kissed her on the lips with such gentleness that Ailith’s shyness melted away, and her body responded with predictable results.
