Fifth Quarter (53 page)

Everything the Emperor said made sense, Usef reflected, which put him in the uncomfortable position of reminding His Majesty of a forgotten point. "What of the bards. Majesty? She has obviously been…" He thought of saying corrupted—assassins were not supposed to
want
to leave the army—but settled on, "… befriended by them. They know what she is and will be watching her."

"The bards." His Imperial Majesty dismissed them with a wave. "They can't see past this whole fifth kigh thing, this body-jumping spirit, mumbo jumbo, singing nonsense. They have no idea of what she is or they'd have left her safely sheathed. As they have drawn the blade…" He clenched his left fist and flexed the air as though he were measuring the weight of a bird. "I may not use her, but I appreciate having her there, just in case."

The two women were the only nonsailors on the dock, a cloudburst having cleared away everyone without immediate business in the area. Even the gulls had gone looking for more congenial surroundings.

"I'm going to miss you, Vree." Karlene drew the shorter woman into her arms and gently lifted her chin. "Gyhard
,
go away for a minute." Considerably more than a moment later, she drew back and murmured dreamily, "I wish I'd thought of that weeks ago."

Vree struggled to catch her breath. "I wish you had, too," she managed at last. She had no idea if the bard's command had actually worked or if Gyhard had just decided to fade into the background for the duration. Nor, for this moment at least, did she care. She tightened the circle of her arms. "I'm going to miss you." Rubbing moisture that had nothing to do with either the rain or the salt air off her cheek, she touched the single dagger she wore hanging at her waist. "Bannon's still refusing to see me. When
you
see him, could you tell him…"

"Tell him yourself," Karlene interrupted, and turned her around.

He wore damp Imperial livery and an uncertain, defiant expression. As Karlene diplomatically stepped away, Bannon walked the length of the dock as if he moved toward a fight. "I decided I was being too harsh," he said before Vree could speak. "You betrayed me, but…" He bit his lip and shook his head. "I couldn't let you go without saying good-bye, Vree. We might never see each other again."

She didn't bother hiding how much it hurt—unsure if she were being honest or trying to hurt him in turn. She understood why he couldn't forgive her for Gyhard and she supposed that in time the feeling that someone had shoved a dagger into her heart would fade, but for now his ease in settling into a new life without her kept twisting the blade.

"If I had one wish," he went on, his eyes searching her face, "I'd wish we could go back to Ghoti and have
none
of this happen."

An impatient bellow from the ship dropped them both into a defensive crouch, daggers in hand, searching for an enemy. Straightening, first Vree, then Bannon began to laugh. If the laughter took on a hysterical tone and grew to hold more pain than humor, neither of the two listeners were likely to mention it.

Finally Vree sobered and held out her hand, hoping but not hopeful that he'd take it. "Good-bye, Bannon."

Bannon stared at her for a moment, features mirroring the inner battle he fought, and finally yanked her into a quick embrace. His fingers digging into her upper arms, he pushed her away again almost as quickly. The heat that had burned between them all their adult lives had burned away somewhere between Aralt and Kars.

Because she'd done it all his life, or maybe just because he needed it now, Vree gave him the reassurance he asked for. "Yes. I was."

Rubbing the moisture from her eyes, Vree made her way to the bow of the ship. With a terse nod to the bard, Bannon had left the moment she'd boarded, but Karlene had still been on the dock, waving wildly, when a bend in the river hid her from view.

"I've never been to sea before," Gyhard murmured as a small flock of gulls wheeled about the masthead screaming defiance.

"What? In all those lives?"

"You needn't sound so superior. You've never been out of the Empire before."

Out of the Empire. Vree leaned over the rail and stared down the river toward the sea, fighting the need to race to the stern and search the horizon for some sign of the life she'd left behind. She had no army, no brother, no structure left in a life turned irrevocably upside down. It was a good thing she'd been trained to overcome fear.

"Vree, what happens if this healer finds me a body?"

"I'm going to beat the living shit out of it."

She felt him smile. It felt nothing at all like Bannon's, which was strange because that was the only smile she'd ever seen him use. "And then?"

"I don't know."

"Will you tell me when you
do
know?"

"Aren't you supposed to be teaching me to speak Shkodan?"

"I could teach you how to say
yes,"
he muttered. "Then perhaps I'd get an answer to my question."

Vree lifted her face into the wind. "Teach me to say, no regrets," she said, willing herself to believe it. "And maybe, we'll work our way to yes from there."