Read Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (16 page)
BOOK: Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses)
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The Lestra nodded. “You know, do you not, that the Silver Lady marks some of her servants for greater honor, greater strength?” the older woman said now. “And that each of her Daughters feels a special relationship to her at a particular point in the Mother’s cycle? I, of course, am at my strongest— my mind is at its sharpest—when the moon is full and I can bathe in all her glory. I am the Lestra, the Whole Moon Daughter. Shavell and Darris are Split Moon Daughters, Shavell at her peak when the moon is halfway through its waning cycle, Darris when the moon is halfway to full. There are many who thrive under the three-quarter moon, who feel the Pale Mother’s power run silver through their veins when she takes a crescent shape. But I think you might be that rarest creature of all—one who is most closely bonded to the Pale Mother when she is at her most secretive and unknowable. I think you must be a Dark Moon Daughter.”
Ellynor bowed her head. She wondered if the Black Mother was witnessing this scene, and if so, whether she was laughing. “I would be honored if that were true, my lady,” she said.
“We cannot yet be sure,” the Lestra said. “But I will watch you, and I will judge. For tonight, can you make yourself useful? Can you ride ahead with the lead men, and help them determine where hazards lie?”
“Gladly, my lady.”
“Then lead us, my Daughter.”
Ellynor spurred her horse forward to ride next to the surly guard, nodding her head civilly and hoping he would not blame her for how this hour had unfolded. “Just tell me what you see as you see it,” he said in a neutral voice. “I’ll decide if we need to stop or slow.”
“All right,” she said, and began to recite for him all the sights of the night woods, much as she had for Astira. “There. See it? That shape in the woods? It’s a wolf, but it’s not watching us. And ahead, about twenty yards, there’s a dip in the road, pretty abrupt. We might have everyone be a little careful there. Don’t worry about that shadow hanging down—it looks like a snake, but it’s just a vine. Nothing that bites.”
As she kept up her running commentary, which she was sure the soldiers did not appreciate, she reflected that she had one thing to be thankful for. She had caught the Lestra’s fierce and unrelenting attention, something she had hoped never to do; she had made herself visible to those unwinking black eyes. But the Lestra still did not know her name. Ellynor still might skate through her days at the convent anonymous as any other novice.
As long as she kept herself out of trouble.
CHAPTER 7
IT had been a calculated move to rescue the novice as she fought against an unwanted embrace. Justin had taken only a split second to react, but in that space of time he had weighed what he might stand to gain from such an intervention, what he could potentially lose. There was no chance that he might be jeopardizing his own life by deciding to battle this clumsy stranger. However, he might win an ally at the Lumanen Convent. That was worth taking a risk for, he thought.
Senneth would have wanted him to save the novice, whether or not he could turn such an action to his advantage. Cammon, too. But Tayse would have understood Justin’s overriding motive, and approved.
It had been an unexpected bonus to be charmed by the girl who had so recently been a victim. She was small-boned and delicate (what was she
thinking
traipsing about a city like Neft entirely undefended?), but with a force of will that quickly made him stop viewing her as helpless. Not a beauty, not the way Kirra was, but with a pretty, dainty face and a creamy complexion. Her eyes were a blue so dark that at first he had thought they were black. And she had that incredible hair. He had never seen anything like it.
thinking
traipsing about a city like Neft entirely undefended?), but with a force of will that quickly made him stop viewing her as helpless. Not a beauty, not the way Kirra was, but with a pretty, dainty face and a creamy complexion. Her eyes were a blue so dark that at first he had thought they were black. And she had that incredible hair. He had never seen anything like it.
The minute he left her behind at the Gisseltess mansion, Justin was sorry she had stepped out of his life.
But he had so much more to do than think about a slim and smiling young woman, whether or not she was a Daughter of the Pale Mother. He had a job at the stables, for one thing, which took up a little more of his time than he would have liked.
And he had a second job, which had yielded precious few results during the week he had been in Neft. Justin did not like a waiting game. He did not thrive on enforced inactivity. He liked to have a target, an enemy, a goal.
This assignment in Neft was likely to drive him mad.
After leaving Ellynor at the Gisseltess place, Justin circled the neighborhood once, just to make sure she hadn’t been cast out of the house when the others failed to believe her story. But, somewhat to his disappointment, Ellynor did not reemerge. He returned to the stables to find Delz there and irate that Justin had left the place unattended.
“Anyone could have come in and walked out with half the horses!” the older man fumed. “And the Silver Lady only knows how many came by, wanting to leave their mounts behind, but there was no one to take their reins—or their money!”
“I was only gone twenty minutes,” Justin said, which was a lie, but he was guessing Delz hadn’t been back much longer than that. “Nobleman asked me to lead his horse while he hauled a package halfway across town. Didn’t want to offend him, did I? He might be back needing more favors.”
Delz looked both mollified and skeptical. “Marlord?” he asked.
Justin shrugged. “
I
don’t know. I can’t tell one from another.”
I
don’t know. I can’t tell one from another.”
“He pay you?”
Justin pulled out a silver coin and flicked it to Delz. “Here. Keep it. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Delz pocketed it but still looked disgruntled. “You’re not as steady as I’d like,” he grumbled. “Gone a lot when a man expects you to be in place.”
“I get restless.” A pause. “I can look for work elsewhere if I don’t suit.”
“No, no. I still need the extra hands. It’s just that—you’re gone a lot.”
Justin shrugged again. “Well, I’m back now. What’s left to be done?”
They worked together the next couple of hours, cleaning stalls, forking out hay, and pumping fresh water, and by then Delz was back in charity with Justin. He hadn’t seemed to notice that his new employee wasn’t particularly talkative, or maybe he didn’t mind carrying the bulk of the conversation, for he frequently engaged in long, rather dull monologues about episodes in his life. Just from boredom, Justin had put together a fairly coherent picture from the tales Delz told out of sequence. Farmer’s son, once married, wife ran off, almost married a second time but the girl’s family had decided Delz wasn’t good enough for her and made her a better match. Odd jobs in Fortunalt and along the southern coast before he ended up here. Now that he was a business owner, he hoped to find a third woman who might be persuaded to take him, and to stay.
Justin thought he’d rather still be living on the streets of Ghosenhall than endure such a life.
A half dozen riders came in as they were doing the evening chores, dropping off horses for a night or two. This hour of the day, and early morning when travelers headed out again, were their busiest times. Delz mostly handled the money while Justin got the animals settled in. The tired and placid ones were the easiest to put away, but Justin liked the spirited ones better, nervous and edgy around strangers. “Come on, girl,” he said, coaxing a particularly wary mare into a stall. “I’ll take care of you. No need to be afraid at all.”
Once it was true night, they were less likely to do any business, so Delz took off for his dinner and Justin finished sweeping. Delz owned a tiny house not ten yards from the stable. He had rigged up a cord that customers could pull at the stable door to ring a bell in his house, so he could be on hand in minutes if someone needed him.
This meant no one had to stay overnight with the horses.
Once Delz returned from dinner, Justin was free for the day. By this time he was ravenous, so he usually took his meals at one of the local taverns, most often the Golden Boar. Tonight he sat alone at a small table in the corner; other nights he might take a seat at the bar counter. He always ate in silence, keeping a look of indifference on his face but listening as hard as he could for any information someone might drop. So far, nothing of interest had been inadvertently revealed to him over his meals. He’d heard plenty about the road conditions, the king’s misguided foreign policies, the excellence of Helven beer, a certain woman named Dorina, and what kind of opportunities there might be for employment in Forten City, if a man wasn’t afraid of the sea. But nothing about Coralinda Gisseltess or her activities.
No mention of troops leaving the convent in secret and carrying out illicit raids for the Lestra. No reports of houses burned down in the night, of fights between the Lestra’s men and the civil guards paid to keep a minor nobleman protected. Such things had been whispered back in Ghosenhall. There had been dreadful tales of mysterious fires started in the night on the property of aristocrats who had done something to offend the Lestra. Tales of whole families gone missing after an unmarked cadre of soldiers passed through.
But Justin hadn’t seen any large body of convent men march down the streets of Neft. The biggest contingent of soldiers he’d seen had been the group torturing the mystic Lara.
And the ones who’d come to town yesterday escorting Coralinda Gisseltess and a smattering of her novices. That particular group of soldiers had holed up in a small inn on the other side of town and hadn’t been seen all day. If they were doing damage to nonbelievers, they were doing it in a high state of secrecy.
Justin needed to get to the convent itself. He needed to be able to watch the various roads that led to and from the compound in order to judge what kind of activity the Lestra’s guards were engaged in. He wouldn’t learn much loitering here in Neft.
He had just laid his fork down and pushed his plate aside when a man dropped into the seat across from him. Keeping an impassive expression on his face, Justin inspected the newcomer. Older man, possibly in his late fifties, with disorderly gray hair and a lived-in face, wearing clothes that he might have had on his back for the last four days. Everything about him looked rumpled. His expression was mild, but his eyes were extraordinarily keen. A smart man who didn’t mind being taken for a fool, Justin decided.
“You look like the gambling sort to me,” the older man said and laid down a pack of cards.
Justin relaxed a little, smiling slightly. “I can play most games,” he said. “Don’t like high stakes, though. I have a lot of other uses for my money.”
His companion shuffled the deck with enough competence to show he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t know what he was doing. This was not an attempt to con; this was an attempt to combat boredom. “Still, you have to put money down, or what does it matter who wins?” the other man said. “Care for a few hands?”
“Sure,” Justin said. “Name your preference. I’m Justin, by the way.”
“Faeber. How about two-point cross-cradle?”
Justin nodded. “I’m in.”
They played a few rounds, talking sporadically, watching each other over the cards. Their luck was pretty even, although, within an hour, Faeber pulled ahead by a few coppers. Justin was interested to note that most of the other men who came and went through the tavern doors glanced in their direction, and nodded if Faeber noticed them, but no one else came to join them.
Justin took the next hand, winning back the coins he’d lost and a few of Faeber’s. “That was neatly done,” the older man approved. “You play a patient game.”
Justin grinned broadly and shuffled the cards. “Only sometimes,” he said. “I can be reckless in a certain mood.”
Faeber leaned back in his chair. “Feeling reckless this afternoon?” he asked in a genial voice.
Justin kept his gaze on the cards, but all his senses sharpened. He had wondered if anyone had witnessed his brawl in the street, and if so, whether someone would come to investigate. “I saw a young woman who looked like she needed help,” he replied quietly. “I could have walked on by. That wasn’t the mood I was in this afternoon.”
BOOK: Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses)
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