Elyon's Blades, page 29
part #1 of The Daughters of Elyon Series
She shook her head. “But, if I’d known the importance of her being there, I would have made arrangements to allow her to attend without others knowing. Perhaps up in the tower where she could watch the blaze or from one of the windows in one of the nearby buildings. I’ve been reading a lot lately about your customs, trying to understand what was happening with Ailith. I haven’t seen anything about those particular beliefs.”
Knowing that her upbringing had shaped many of her thought processes, Isobel had used her travels as an itinerant knight to open her mind to different ways of thinking. The Dreyuthan nobility lived within its own insular societal norms, and while she’d been shaped by them, she didn’t allow them to define her. “The mountain peasants have never been considered part of Dreyuthan society and therefore very little has been written about their ways. I’m not surprised you didn’t run across anything pertaining to them.”
Both Sábria and Shirin stared at Isobel. It was Sábria who finally asked, “Not a part of your society? How can that be?”
“To many among the nobility, and as you know, it’s the nobility who write, or rewrite history, the mountain peasants are little more than animals. The breeding program is a perfect example of that. Many come down out of the mountains to fight in our armies, where they’re mostly fodder—bodies to throw at the enemy—to wear the enemy down until the real Dreyuthans move in to fight.” She studied both their shocked faces. “And, so you know, neither I nor Duke Ravenkind believe such things. I wouldn’t be here if I did.”
Sábria decided this wasn’t the time for a philosophical discussion. “Is the fact that I didn’t allow her to come to Maeira’s ascension something I should address with her, that we kept her away?”
“What’s done is done. When the herbs begin to take effect, I’ll see whether she’s worried that your Blade’s spirit is angry enough to return and wreak havoc in her life. In the armies, we’re all very aware of which of our people are from the mountains. We’ve found that they must be afforded the right to accompany their dead comrades’ spirits into the heavens because they believe that by standing close enough to the funeral pyre to nearly get burned themselves, they’re showing the Gods that the warrior was worthy to be admitted into the heavens.”
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Ailith was still busy with her ditch. “Before we fully understood that, and I’m talking hundreds of turns ago, after a battle, the bodies of the dead warriors were simply piled into a mound far away from the camps and set aflame. No one understood why the mountain people left the armies in droves, either returning to the mountains or, depending on how close they were to the deceased, participating in mass suicides. It’s not only considered a dishonor, but the person endures great humiliation and contempt from their peers if they don’t take the time to stand before the Gods with their dead comrades.”
Startled, Sábria exchanged horrified looks with Shirin. “For the love of sacred Elyon’s Blood. You mean in our ignorance we might have driven Ailith to kill herself?”
“I take it Ailith was not extremely close to the Blade who died? If that’s the case, then we can thank the Goddess for small favors.”
Shirin, who was in charge of all of the handlers and shivs, answered for Sábria. “No, her handler was badly injured, but she didn’t die. I doubt Ailith had much to do with the one who died because when two handlers meet on the streets or take a meal together, the handlers sit at one table, and the shivs sit at another. There’s very little interaction between a shiv and someone else’s handler.”
“There you have it then. While I’m sure it was all part of the trigger, at least it didn’t lead to her death.”
They heard a noise in the breezeway and turned to see Emlyn disappear into the toolshed. She reappeared a few moments later carrying a shovel. She bowed her head in their direction as she walked past and then, without saying a word, joined Ailith at her work. Ailith stopped shoveling and stared at her, but instead of cursing her, she simply resumed her task of filling in the giant ditch she’d created when she’d dug down to find the leak.
There was another rattling noise in the toolshed behind Sábria, Shirin, and Isobel, and when they turned, they saw Marne come out holding a shovel of her own. She, too, nodded as she silently walked past, stepping up next to Ailith and shoving the shovel into the dirt.
Ailith stepped aside and jammed a fist onto her hips.
Sábria sincerely hoped Ailith knew enough about Marne’s personality not to challenge her.
Ailith glared at Marne’s back a moment, watching her and Emlyn shoveling dirt into the hole. Her hole. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned and glared at a line of Blades who were waiting to receive the shovels and rakes someone in the shed was handing out. As each one received a tool, they silently filed past the three women and joined the others working diligently to fill the pit as quickly as possible. Ailith stubbornly shoved her shovel into the dirt and continued to work despite the many people surrounding her once solitary activity.
With that many people working, the hole was filled in and raked over in no time. Marne grabbed Ailith’s shovel, intending to take it back to the shed, but Ailith held on and jerked it out of Marne’s hand. “I don’t need yer fowkin’ help.”
Marne bared her teeth and slammed her open palm into Ailith’s chest, nearly knocking her to the ground. She stepped forward until she was inches from Ailith’s face and growled, “And I don’t need no fucking shiv telling me what to do. Now give me your fucking shovel and shut your trap, or I’ll be shutting it for you.”
Shirin scratched the side of her head. “I guess she hasn’t met Marne before.”
Sábria had to agree. “I guess not. Oh well, there’s a first time for everything.”
They watched, wondering exactly what would happen if Ailith threw the shovel into Marne’s chest. Judging by the shivs face, it was a toss-up as to which way it would go.
Marne registered the look as well and cocked her head, daring Ailith to do something stupid.
Ailith was the first to look away. She held out the shovel, and Marne took it from her. The older woman growled, “Good choice, shiv.”
Isobel had watched the whole interaction. She stood with her arms crossed and her legs shoulder width apart, interested to see how a senior Blade would handle a disrespectful young shiv. When Ailith handed Marne the shovel, she turned her head slightly towards Sábria. “I like her.”
Chuckling, Sábria crossed her arms as well. “So do I. Marne is one the shivs definitely don’t want to mess with, even when she’s doing them a favor.”
When Marne walked past carrying the two shovels, she looked the Lady Knight directly in the eyes. As was proper, she lowered her gaze to the ground for a moment and bowed slightly.
To Sábria’s surprise, the Blade received a slight nod in return. While they were waiting for everyone to file out of the yard, Sábria took a moment to study the knight in profile. She was every bit the proud warrior, with her strong straight bearing and the hawk-nosed features of a true aristocrat. Her form-fitting uniform accentuated sensual, feminine curves in all the right places, and Sábria found herself wondering how a member of the Dreyuthan nobility would feel about enjoying some casual diversion when they had some free time.
She heard Shirin chuckling and turned to see a twinkle in her eyes. Placing a gentle hand on the Commander’s lower back, Sábria slowly ran her hand in a circular motion, enjoying the easy familiarity she and the Commander shared. “There are times when I think you know me too well, my friend.”
Shirin shrugged, and her grin widened into a smile. “Perhaps.”
The bell for the evening meal rang, and Isobel glanced at Sábria with a raised brow.
Sábria waved her hand towards the breezeway, inviting Isobel to join her. “It’s the bell for the evening meal. We haven’t been able to get Ailith to join us, so I usually bring a plate to the stables. As you can see from her weight loss, she doesn’t eat what she’s offered, but I’m persistent. We don’t normally treat our trainees with kid gloves, but in this case….”
Isobel placed a friendly hand on Sábria’s shoulder, something not many people dared. “There aren’t many who would have put up with her for this long. What she’s going through isn’t her fault. It’s a delayed result of that damned berserker experiment. On behalf of Duke Ravenkind and myself, I’d like to thank you for your persistence and your patience.”
She glanced over at Ailith. “Now, you may think me callous and impatient, but I have the advantage of having read the notes of the healer who led the breeding program. If I hadn’t, I’m not sure how I would’ve treated her. But, having read those notes, I’m going to push her farther than you might consider acceptable. If you remember, the healer hinted that it might be possible to force the berserker back into a semblance of normality, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Normality means forcing her to carry a sword and become the shiv you and Duke Ravenkind intended when he left her in your care.”
She walked to her packs, which were stored in the breezeway next to her battlemare’s stall. Opening the flap of a leather saddlebag, she retrieved a single-dose medicine pouch Shirin recognized as coming from Cori Lesfur. She tucked it into her waistband and then turned to Shirin. “Would you please have someone take these to my room?”
“Of course.” Shirin motioned to a Blade who’d just returned her shovel to the shed. “Faylin, take Lady Knight Isobel’s things to her room. Second floor, guest suite one.”
“Of course, Commander.” Faylin walked over and pointed to Isobel’s belongings. “May I take your things, Lady Knight?”
There was a definite shift in Isobel’s personality when she was confronted with behavior from a subordinate that was different from what she was used to. As far as she was concerned, Faylin had been given an order and should carry it out without question. Holding back the biting response she would have given one of her own subordinates, her chin lifted, and her brows lowered into a glower as she glared at the Blade’s perceived impudence.
Faylin flicked a glance at Shirin.
Sábria realized she needed to explain some aspects of Temple life since their culture was so different from that of the Dreyuthans. “When people live in such close proximity to one another, as is the case here in the Temple, we’ve discovered it’s necessary to enforce certain rules. One of those rules is that you never touch the possessions of another Blade,” she nodded at Isobel, “or guest, without that person’s express permission. The same goes for any type of physical contact, with a few exceptions. First, we don’t ask permission when we are disciplining. We don’t ask permission to touch people when we’re patrolling the streets. And permission is not necessary when the person is incapacitated in some way.” She glanced at Ailith, who was still standing in the opening to the breezeway. For the most part, permission isn’t strictly necessary for casual contact, either such as the touch of a hand or shoulder. It’s understood that if the person dislikes that type of casual gesture, they’ll let the other person know.”
The gray eyes returned to Faylin, and Isobel dipped her chin once.
The Blade took that as permission and gathered the saddle packs and bags in her arms.
When she’d gone, Isobel ran her fingers over her saddle, which was perched on a metal saddle rack. She turned to Kemi. “Did you oil my tack?”
“One of my stable hands did, Milady.”
“And yet she didn’t ask my permission to touch my things.”
Kemi was an excellent stablemaster who understood horses better than humans, and her understanding of nobles was practically nonexistent. Both Sábria and Shirin knew that trying to explain philosophical nuances to a Lady Knight was beyond her capabilities.
Seeing Kemi’s blank stare, Sábria stepped in to clarify the matter. “When you handed Kemi your reins, you gave implied consent to unsaddle your mare and take care of your tack.”
As Isobel continued to stare down at Kemi, the stable master, who wanted to get back to what she’d been doing before these three showed up, pulled her bangs and asked, “Will that be all, Milady?”
Again, Sábria stepped in. “You’re dismissed, Kemi. And thank you for your help.”
“Yer welcome, Milady.” Relieved to be dismissed, Kemi disappeared into her office.
Thirty-Two
Sábria led the way into the courtyard, with Isobel and Shirin following.
Isobel called over her shoulder, “Ailith.” Without looking back, she pointed at the ground next to her feet. When Ailith didn’t appear by her side, she looked over her shoulder and saw her heading into the horse stall. Without saying a word, Isobel returned to the breezeway, grabbed Ailith by the back of her collar, and dragged her into the courtyard.
Sometime earlier, Shirin had sent one of the Blades to check for Ailith’s short sword. The young woman came trotting over and held it out on open palms. Shirin nodded, took it, and handed it to Isobel. “Here you go.”
Isobel accepted the offering and slapped it into Ailith’s chest. “Here, put this on like a proper shiv.”
Ailith stepped back and let it fall to the ground. “I told ya, I’m no shiv. I shovel shit.”
When Isobel drew her sword, Sábria and Shirin stepped to the side. Other people who were heading to the dining hall gave them space.
The knight glanced over Ailith’s shoulder at Sábria, who raised her brows and nodded, indicating she would step in to help if needed. Isobel pointed at the sword lying at their feet. “Pick it up.”
Shirin leaned over and whispered to Sábria. “Is this one of those times she’s going to push?”
“It looks like it. Picking up that sword and strapping it on is critical to getting her back into training. I guess the Lady Knight isn’t one to waste any time.”
Ailith turned and started back to the breezeway, growling over her shoulder as she walked away. “What th’ fowk don’t ya understand about no?”
Pulling her sword across her body, Isobel turned it slightly and backhanded Ailith’s thigh with the flat of the blade. “I said, pick it up.”
Ailith spun around and barely managed to duck a second hard swing aimed at her shoulder. “What th’ fowk?”
The knight circled around Ailith and herded her back toward the sword. “Pick it up.”
“Get away from me!”
“Pick…it…up.” When Ailith swung wide to go around her, Isobel lunged in, hitting her on the thigh so hard a loud thwack reverberated throughout the open courtyard.
A quiet chorus of “ow,” and “shite,” came from the assembled blades watching the altercation.
Ailith growled loud enough for Sábria to hear from several paces away and then shouted an impressive string of curses, “Leave me th’ fowk alone, ya ró mágromin Dreyuthan noble piece ‘a shite!” She moved away from the sword again, only to be herded back toward it by the knight.
When Ailith turned her back and stalked toward the gate leading to the outer bailey, Isobel growled, “Oh, no you don’t.” It only took two steps to come within striking distance and strike she did. The flat of her blade cracked across Ailith’s shoulders and pushed her forward several steps.
Up to that point, Ailith had managed to harness the anger building inside her. The last blow ratcheted the rage to a whole new level. She balled her hands into fists, turned and lunged toward the knight, who stuck the tip of her blade in front of Ailith’s stomach. Ailith had to pull up short and suck in her belly to keep from being impaled.
As soon as Ailith’s forward motion stopped, like a striking adder, Isobel whipped her sword across her body and smacked the shiv on her right shoulder twice in quick succession. She pointed to the sword with her free hand. “Pick it up.”
Shirin whispered again, “Shit. I’d hate to get on that lady’s bad side.”
“No kidding. I’d love to have her as one of our senior Blades here at the Temple.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I think you’d have another Marne on your hands.”
“Good point.”
The double strike was the last straw for Ailith. She grabbed her sword from where it lay on the cobblestones and threw the scabbard away. She growled and began swinging at Isobel, who blocked each blow as it came. Ailith’s focus narrowed, and her rage built with each slashing stroke. She just wanted to get this woman out of her life, and every strike and lunge and slash she’d ever learned came racing to the fore.
Isobel was an experienced swordswoman who’d been trained by the best fighting instructors in all of Dreyutha. Even though she was able to block the blows, she backed steadily away as Ailith moved inexorably forward.
The growling intensified and became more pronounced with each successive attack.
Shirin uncrossed her arms and quickly glanced at Sábria and then back at the fight. “Is she okay?”
Sábria was watching intently as well. “It’s an untrained shiv against a fully-trained battle knight. She should be able to handle her.”
“She should be able to handle a half-trained shiv, yes, but can she handle a berserker who took down three fully-armed swordsmen by herself?”
Sábria had her sword halfway out of its scabbard when Isobel set her feet and began fighting in earnest. She drove Ailith back with moves only the top weapons-masters in the Temple ever used.
Isobel’s blows came in hard and fast, and Ailith’s stubborn refusal to eat properly the past few sevendays began to take its toll. Her blocks were becoming weak and clumsy as she began to lose strength in her limbs. Sweat broke out on her brow, and the blood drained from her face.
The knight was forced to pull a slashing overhead strike when Ailith’s sword arm dropped, and the sword fell from her fingers. In one smooth movement, Isobel quickly slipped her sword into its scabbard.
As Ailith swayed and her knees buckled, the knight went down on her knees as well and grabbed Ailith around the chest, pulling her close and holding Ailith’s head against her shoulder. “Easy now, I’ve got you. You’re not eating and drinking, Lass. You know you’ve lasted ten times that long in the middle of a battle.”
