Elyon's Blades, page 3
part #1 of The Daughters of Elyon Series
She’d thrown on her black tunic, pulled her knee-high boots over her trews, and strapped on her sword before hurrying from her room. Even though the slap of her boots against the wooden floor echoed off the plaster walls, Sábria was too preoccupied with the summons to hear them. The young warrior who’d brought the request knew nothing other than the Commander, who’d been summoned first, had sent her to wake the Arch Priestess and bring her to the gate immediately.
The cadence of her steps increased as she hurried down the stairs, but she made an effort to slow her descent into the unhurried, confident stride her people were used to seeing. The warrior at the front of the Sanctum pulled one of the heavy doors open for her and saluted as she moved past. Both the Sanctum and the Citadel had walled gardens, and as she strode beneath the arched gateway leading to the Temple’s inner courtyard, instead of continuing straight ahead, as she normally would if she were to leave the Temple through the front gate, she turned left and followed the curve of the wall until she arrived at the rear exit of the inner bailey.
The door of the vine-covered archway was left open during peaceful times, and she strode through it and was immediately met by Shirin, who spoke while they walked through the outer bailey to the back gate. “You know that peace contingent that rode in from Dreyutha the other day?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a sergeant carrying one of their warriors over his shoulder. He asked to speak to you.”
Trying to remember how the Dreyuthan military was structured, Sábria put a hand on Shirin’s arm before she opened the gate. “Sergeant is the equivalent of our Guardian Prime, correct?”
“That’s right.” When Sábria didn’t have any more questions, Shirin slid the latch mechanism back until it clicked against the metal backstop, pulled the heavy wooden gate open, and stood back, allowing Sábria to precede her.
Curious as to why a low-ranking individual from Dreyutha’s army would need to see her in the middle of the night, Sábria stepped through the door. Her first impression of the man waiting for her was that he probably had some Dak blood running through his veins. The top of his head came no higher than her collarbones, but his chest and arms were twice the size of hers, and his legs were the size of small tree trunks.
When she appeared, his bright, blue eyes lit up beneath a pair of hoary eyebrows. “Ye be th’ High Priest lady o’ this Temple?”
“Yes.”
“An’ this be th’ Temple of that there Elyon lady? Th’ one wit’ th’ army full of pidges?” He shifted the still body lying over his shoulder to a more comfortable position and waited for her reply.
Her affirmative was drawn out with exaggerated patience this time. “Yes.” She decided she’d learn what he had to tell her faster if she didn’t correct the man every time he misspoke.
He grunted and tossed the body at her feet. “I be Granther Dingus, a sergeant in King Prather’s armies.” He indicated the woman he’d just deposited on the ground with the toe of his boot. “This be a Dreyuthan warrior. Ailith’s her name. That skud of a Commander we got beat ‘er near t’ death. I tol’ 'em she were dead and brung ‘er to ya. She’s a gran’ warrior, one o’ th’ best, but if she stays wit’ us, she’ll be dead sooner than later.” He glanced down at the woman. “If’n ya sees what I mean.”
Sábria turned to the healer who’d just stepped through the gate. “Check her, please.” The healer, Kara, had obviously been woken from a sound sleep because her hair was standing at odd angles, and she still had sleep lines etched into the side of her dark face.
The man took a step back and pointed to the prone woman. “Tell ‘er old Dingus said it’s fer th’ best.” With that, the man turned and started down the short incline to the city.
“Wait! You can’t just leave her here without….”
Dingus raised a hand in farewell and kept walking.
Sábria sighed and squatted next to Kara. “Well?”
“Unconscious, but you already knew that. I can’t find any broken bones, but someone stomped the heck out of her. She looks about eighteen, nineteen.” Kara stood and motioned to the gate guard, “With your permission, My Lady, I’ll have Dina help me carry her to the infirmary.”
Sábria sighed. There was little else she could say other than, “Fine.”
Kara brought out the stretcher that was always kept inside the gate, and Dina helped lift the woman’s body onto it.
When everyone had retreated inside, Shirin locked the gate and motioned to a woman crossing the outer bailey. “Take the watch here until Dina returns.”
The warrior altered course, stopped a moment to bring her fist to her chest, and then took a position next to the gate.
Shirin hurried to catch up to Sábria, who hadn’t waited for her. “Are you going to allow her to petition entry? We just accepted Emlyn, whose emotional upheaval is going to be difficult to manage. Do we really need another new recruit on top of the three we accepted four days ago and the others already in training?”
“I don’t know. I’ll speak to her tomorrow if she’s regained consciousness by then and get a feel for what type of warrior she is. Sergeant Dingus didn’t give us much to go on.” She glanced at her second as they walked into the inner bailey. “It’s not like you to call me out for something like this.”
Shirin recognized the irritation in Sábria’s voice. Normally, it took a lot to get on the Arch Priestess’ nerves, but apparently, dealing with Emlyn and the Crown Princess earlier had grated on her. “I’m sorry. I thought this might turn into an inter-kingdom incident, and since she’s part of the contingent that came with the peace delegation to visit the Emperor, I knew you’d want to be in on any decisions about letting her into the Temple.”
Pulling in a deep breath, Sábria acknowledged the words with a slight nod. “And you were exactly right. If the Commander who beat her so badly discovers that she not only didn’t die but also finds out we allowed her into the Temple and brought her to the healers, he may end up on our doorstep demanding we return her. I have no idea what I’ll do at that point, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I’ll go make sure she settles in.” Shirin paused and put a hand on Sábria’s shoulder. “Does the Arch Priestess, who usually helps other people get to sleep, need some help relaxing tonight?”
With her shoulders tense and aching, Sábria realized a thorough massage would do her a world of good. “Yes, please. If you come after you tuck that warrior in for the night, I would love some lavender oil and a good massage.”
Shirin squeezed the shoulder and nodded. “I’ll grab the oil from Kara and be right up.” She held the door open and, once Sábria was inside, headed for the healer’s wing to make sure their newest petitioner had settled in for the night.
Four
Sábria couldn’t help smiling the following morning as she remembered Shirin’s pleasurable ministrations the night before. She must have fallen asleep in the middle of them because she awoke this morning more relaxed than she’d been in quite a while. The cook had prepared a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausage, and bread rolls, and with a full belly and a light heart, she walked into the healer’s wing to check on the woman from the evening before. She found Shirin standing off to the side talking to Kara, and when the two women noticed her, Kara waved, and the two walked over to where she waited.
Kara breathed deeply and fluttered her hand in front of her face as though wafting a scent toward her nose. “Ah, I love how lavender mixes with your natural scent. I’m glad Shirin offered to help you relax. Otherwise, I was going to bring the oils to your room myself and order you to disrobe and lay on your belly whether you thought you needed it or not.”
Amused at her healer’s good-natured banter, Sábria raised her brows and tapped the woman on the tip of her nose. “I’m the one who gives you the orders around here, my dear, not the other way around. Now, how’s the Dreyuthan warrior?”
Shirin grinned, “Awake and laughing about Sergeant Dingus. Although I can tell it hurts to laugh. The woman’s ribs are bruised but probably not cracked, so that explains the pain.”
“Anything else broken?”
Kara shook her head. “Not as far as I can tell. She’s a tough one. I had to threaten to tie her to the bed before she stopped trying to get up. She’s resting over there by the herbal cabinet if you want to speak with her.”
“Thanks.” Sábria and Shirin wound their way through the rows of mostly empty cots and came to stand on either side of Ailith’s bed.
Ailith was resting on her side and rolled onto her back and then sat up when she realized the two women were coming to speak with her. “Commander Shirin.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.
Sábria crossed her arms. “I thought you were told to stay down.”
Ailith glanced over her shoulder at Sábria and then back at Shirin. Since she didn’t know who the second woman was, she decided it was safer to face the rank she knew rather than the one she didn’t. She swiped her short bangs up into her even shorter black hair and winced when pain shot through her arm and ribs.
“The Arch Priestess is talking to you.” Shirin didn’t expect Ailith to know who Sábria was and therefore didn’t take offense at the fact that she hadn’t immediately responded to Sábria’s statement. She mentally nodded her approval when Ailith immediately turned to face Sábria and pounded her fist to her chest. Approved, that is, until Ailith opened her mouth to speak.
“Shite, ow, that hurt.” Ailith bent over and then pulled herself erect again. “I mean, sorry, I forgot I got this really bad bruise on me girl here.” She grabbed her breast and bounced it a few times before dropping her hand back down to her side when she remembered that might be an inappropriate gesture in front of an Arch Priestess. “Yeah. Sorry again, Yer Grace.” She realized Sábria was staring at her and decided the best course of action would be to shut up and wait, which she did.
Sábria’s tone was cold when she addressed the young warrior. “You will address me as My Lady or Arch Priestess. Not Your Grace.”
“Yes, Milady.”
“Now, were you told to remain on the bed?”
“Yes, Milady, but not in front of th’ Commander, or you for that matter. I mean, ya outrank th’ Commander, I think, right? And it’s not right to stay lyin’ down when rankers come sidling up to the’ side of yer bed, now, is it?”
Sábria ground her teeth. “It’s not up to you to decide when to obey an order and when to disregard one. If you think it’s inappropriate to follow a previously given order, you bring up the previous order and ask whether you should follow the new one or the older one.”
Ailith blinked at the Arch Priestess and remained silent.
Sábria pointed to the bed. “Down.”
“I’m fine, Milady.”
That bit of disrespect earned her a hard cuff from Shirin, who followed it up by moving in close and growling, “Did the Arch Priestess ask you if you were fine?”
“No, Commander.”
“Then get in that bed, or I’ll put you there myself, and I guarantee you won’t enjoy it.” Shirin rested her hands on her hips.
The young warrior turned, careful not to brush against the Commander, who was standing a hand’s width behind her, and lowered herself onto the bed.
Sábria felt the previous night’s tension building between her shoulder blades again. “Did your sergeant feel you’d be better off here than with your own regiment because you have a difficult time following orders?”
“No, Milady.”
“Why would he bring you here, then?”
“Because I have a hard time with assholes.”
Both Shirin and Sábria stared at the young woman. Neither was used to hearing their warriors speaking to or about a superior that way, and they were too nonplussed to immediately respond.
Uncomfortable with their silence, Ailith decided to elaborate. “Well, see, th’ man King Prather put in charge of our garrison for this peace mission is an asshole, and last night he were beatin’ up a young lad because th’ lad didn’t run fast enough with his dinner. I’d been in trouble with th’ asshole before because, well, he’s an asshole, and it don’t sit right lettin’ him beat th’ shite out of people for no reason, so whenever that would happen, I’d step in and get him mad at me so he’d stop beatin’ on th’ other warriors. Which is what I did last night with th’ young lad, and I guess th’ sergeant felt I probably wouldn’t live much longer if I stayed with th’ garrison as long as th’ asshole was in charge.” She dipped her head, “Yer Grace.” Then she remembered her previous instructions and amended that to, “Milady…uh…Arch Priestess.”
The two women were spared having to respond by a warrior coming through the infirmary door and hurrying over. She came to attention and brought her fist to her chest.
“What is it?”
“My Lady. A report from the watch tower that approximately forty soldiers and four mounted officers are headed this way.”
When Ailith swung her feet over the side of the bed, Sábria jabbed a finger in her face. “Stay.”
Ailith glared up at her but remained on the bed.
Sábria hurried from the room with Shirin and the Blade following on her heels.
It didn’t take long for Sábria to get to her room, slip out of her everyday tunic, and don the ornately decorated overtunic of her office. She buckled her sword belt over the tunic and slid her two throwing knives into their sheathes at the small of her back.
By the time she reached the front gates, Shirin and a hastily assembled force of twenty Blades waited in close formation. Sábria nodded at the Commander, who in turn signaled for the gate guards to pull open the two massive wooden doors that protected the Temple entrance from unwanted visitors.
Sábria moved a few paces beyond the entrance, folded her hands in front of her waist, and waited for the riders to approach. Her guards fanned out to either side, and the Commander took up a position slightly behind and to her right.
A wide and deep cobblestone expanse fronted the Temple, separating it from the rest of the city. Green trees with wide canopies dotted the landscape, and midway between the Temple and the row of buildings facing it, a statue of the Goddess Elyon welcoming battered women stood with her arms open wide.
The man in the lead, obviously noble judging by the cut and quality of his green overcoat and soft leather trews, pulled his mount to a halt and sneered down at her.
Another man, solidly built with a square jaw and a long, shallow scar that started at his forehead, ran over the top of one eye and continued down to his chin, pulled his bay gelding to a stop slightly behind the nobleman. A third rider waited behind him, and the fourth stayed with the rest of the troops, who fanned out to form straight lines, four rows deep, facing the Blade contingent.
The nobleman might have been a handsome man if it weren’t for his pinched lips and squinty, narrowed eyes. Sábria wondered if he had problems seeing or if his condescension toward those around him altered his face to such an unpleasant extent.
They remained staring at one another long enough that the man’s horse began to dance in place. A vicious strike with his whip across the poor beast’s withers brought it to a wild-eyed standstill.
Still, Sábria waited.
Finally, the man snarled, “You have my warrior. I want her back.”
Lifting a shoulder with practiced nonchalance, Sábria shook her head. “Perhaps you’re not familiar with the tenets of the Daughters of Elyon. When a woman presents herself at our doors with grievous bodily injury, it is our duty to provide her protection under the laws of the Empire.”
“The Gods shit on you and your tenets. The bitch arrived with me, and she, or at least what’s left of her when I get through educating her, will leave with me.”
Sábria nearly lost her composure when Ailith walked up beside her and calmly said, “If ya haven’t figured it out yet, that’s th’ asshole I was tellin’ ya about.”
Spittle flew from the man’s mouth as he shouted and pointed at Ailith. “Sgt. Ahern. Take that bitch into custody!” He didn’t notice the scarred man behind him silently wave the sergeant off.
Sábria grabbed Ailith by the collar and swung her into Shirin. Her teeth were bared when she brought her face to within inches of the young warrior’s ear and growled, “Stay…here.”
Shirin grabbed Ailith’s arm in a vicelike grip, and Ailith yelped when she jerked her close.
The Arch Priestess turned back to the man, stepped forward, and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I don’t think you quite understood what I said, My Lord. She stays here under my protection.”
The man leapt from his horse and pulled his sword. “Are you challenging me?”
“Not at all. If you wish to fight me for the right to take Ailith, that’s your prerogative. Otherwise, take the rest of your people and go.” She calmly drew her sword from her scabbard and stood holding it down by her side.
The nobleman’s eyes moved from Sábria’s stoic face to the sword she held and then back to her face again. “I’m warning you now, woman. If you’re challenging me, then be prepared to die.”
The man with the scar was still mounted, and nearly everyone on the Blades’ side caught his eye roll and slight shake of the head.
Sábria sighed as though she were dealing with a particularly dense child. “As I clearly said a few moments ago, I’m not challenging you to a duel, My Lord. I’m simply telling you Ailith will remain with me when you quit the Temple and return to your camp.”
His gaze flicked to Ailith, whose mocking grin held an equal measure of mischief and hatred. She tried to pull out of the Commander’s grasp, and when that didn’t work, she spoke directly to Sábria. “Milady. Please. This is my battle, not yers. Let me fight him in a fair fight.”
