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Authors: Sharon Shinn

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BOOK: Mystic and Rider (Twelve Houses)

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“That’s true,” Justin said in a judicious voice.

“Anyway, that may end up being what our mission is about,” Senneth said. “Discovering the extent to which the Daughters are influencing the malcontents in the southern Houses.”

“Besides, we don’t look like mystics, do we?” Kirra demanded. “I mean, if you were to come upon us on the road, even if you were hunting out magic, you wouldn’t look at the four of us who are mystics and instantly be suspicious, would you?”

“That depends,” Tayse drawled. “On whether this one was turning himself into a wolf at that very moment and you were fancying yourself up in a ball gown made out of leather trousers—”

Most of the others were laughing. Cammon was not. “I’m the strange one,” he said quietly. “People look at me—and they know. Kardon knew as soon as he had me indentured. Senneth, you knew the minute you saw me walking behind the tavern.”

“Yes, but I’m looking for magic,” she said. “I think the three of us are far more spectacular than you are, and we’ve been able to disguise ourselves when we wanted to. I think you can manage the same trick.”

“Very well,” Tayse said. “Then we press on? To Rappengrass and even Gisseltess?”

Senneth was watching him from across the room. He couldn’t tell if she was smiling or not, but there was certainly a challenge on her face. “Unless
you’re
afraid to travel with us,” she said.

He touched his right hand to his left shoulder, the place where the royal lion would be embroidered if he was wearing his Rider livery. “My liege sends me to serve you, and serve you I will,” he said. “I am not afraid of a convent of women or the message of hatred they spread.”

“I am, and you should be,” she said quietly. “But we will go forward nonetheless.”

CHAPTER 6

T
HEY left the next morning, bending their route to the south-west so they could swing through Fortunalt and see how the situation stood there. “It’s generally been a self-contained and rational House—no pretensions to the throne—but these days I am not so sure of anyone,” Senneth said. It was her mission to command, so they rode where she directed.

The weather was colder than Tayse remembered it being when they’d arrived in Helvenhall. But that, he knew, was an illusion fostered by two days of soft living. His father had sometimes gone weeks at a time without sleeping in a bed or even inside a shelter, particularly before riding out on some demanding mission. He said he didn’t want to be distracted by discomforts; he wanted to be inured to them before he took his first step on the road.

They didn’t even ride as far as they could have that first day, electing to make camp while it was still full daylight and they could see to gather fuel and make dinner. Senneth said, “I’m going to look for water,” and slipped away once the fire was lit. Tayse watched her go, wondering. He heard laughter and then arguing in the camp, and turned to see Justin pulling out the practice blades.

“Fine,” Justin said, flipping one to Donnal. “Let me show you, then.”

“Don’t forget to keep an eye out for trouble while you’re playing games,” Tayse said.

“I’ll watch,” Cammon replied. “I’ll know if someone’s approaching camp.”

Tayse grunted—because that was irritating but true—and turned away without another word. He followed the path Senneth had taken away from the road, over a hill and down through a scrawny glade of stripped trees. She’d made no particular effort to hide her passage, and so it was easy to find her, a few minutes later, sitting at the edge of an ice-encrusted brook and gazing down at her muddy boots.

“Have you come hunting mystics?” she asked without turning to look at him.

“Not this trip out,” he said. He made his way closer, then dropped down to the ground a few feet away from her.

She glanced over at him. “You would, though,” she said softly. “If the king told you to.”

“I do whatever the king tells me,” he said.

“Loyalty like that is very frightening to me,” she said. “What if what the king tells you is wrong?”

“And what frightens me is someone who is entirely—unaligned,” he said. “Answering only to her own voice. How can anyone be sure that voice can be trusted?”

She watched him a moment, her gray eyes giving nothing away. “It’s only me you really dislike,” she said. “So it can’t just be that you don’t trust mystics. You don’t seem to mind Cammon and Donnal at all, and as for Kirra—” She shrugged. “Well, all men like Kirra.”

He gave her just the edge of a smile. “I understand them and where their allegiances lie,” he said. “Not Cammon, of course—he’s too new to have any allegiances—but he’s like some raw recruit brought into the king’s guard for training. With the right guidance and the right friends, he’ll be thoughtful and strong and maybe even talented. Can’t tell yet how good the basic material is—but it’s uncorrupted.”

“And the others?”

“Well, Kirra would say she’s loyal to you, but really her heart lies with Danalustrous. As long as your course doesn’t jeopardize her father’s realm, she’ll follow you.”

“Kirra has a bit more independence than you think,” Senneth said. “And she has questioned her father more than once.”

“My advice would still be not to put it to the test,” he said.

“And the other men?”

“Oh, Justin is a Rider, heart and soul. He knows this is your expedition, but if you gave him an order and I countermanded it, he would do what I told him to. No question. Donnal’s just the same as Justin, but his loyalty is to Danalustrous. He wouldn’t obey you, either, if Kirra told him not to.”

“I’m not accustomed to
giving orders
and
demanding obedience,
” she said, her voice exasperated. “You make it sound like I’m running a battlefield.”

He shrugged. “That’s what any kind of mission could turn out to be. If we’re set on by Gisseltess guards who somehow know you’re mystics, we’ll have a fight on our hands. And any time you’re in combat, you want to be sure your unit is all pulling together, no loyalties divided.”

“If we’re under attack, I would
hope
you and Justin would be fighting for us,” she exclaimed.

Again, a tiny smile warmed his mouth. “Depends on who’s attacking.”

She shook her head and looked down at her feet again. The way her hair was cut, so short around her head, it was easy to see every expression on her face.

“You look tired,” he said abruptly. “Tough to go back on the road after two days off it.”

“I am tired,” she said slowly, “but that’s not it. It’s not the day behind me. It’s—” She paused, shook her head again. “It’s what lies ahead of me. It’s going to be even harder than I thought.”

He was silent a moment, but she did not explain. “You see,” he said, “it is things like that that make me distrust you. What do you see—what are you planning—that is going to take such energy?”

She sat very still but turned her head just a little, just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “I can’t believe I
am
the only one who sees it,” she said.

There was a rustling in the dry grass behind them. Senneth didn’t bother to investigate, but Tayse turned around to see who was approaching. Justin, looking defiant.

“They need you back at camp,” he said. Tayse rose to his feet, but Justin shook his head. “Not you—her.”

“What happened?” Tayse asked, since Senneth didn’t.

“Accident when we were fighting. My fault, but I thought— Donnal had done reasonably well, and I tried something and he couldn’t parry. It’s pretty deep,” he added. “Right shoulder.”

Tayse glanced at Senneth, but even this news didn’t bring her scrambling to her feet. “What about Kirra? I thought she was supposed to be some sort of gifted healer.”

“She says Senneth is better at this kind of wound than she is,” Justin replied. There was a sort of vocalized shrug in his voice. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anyone healed by magic, so I guess I can’t set myself up to judge anyone’s abilities.”

Senneth finally spoke, still without turning around. “Justin,” she said. “If I told you to do one thing and Tayse told you to do another, whose orders would you follow?”

“Tayse’s,” he said.

“Even though the king has named me head of this expedition? Even though, as King’s Rider, you are bound to do what the king wants you to do?”

“The king wants me to be loyal to my fellow Riders,” he said.

Now she looked at him over her shoulder. “And if Tayse woke you up in the middle of the night and told you to kill me in the morning, would you do it?”

He nodded. “You—any of them. But Donnal at least will be dead by morning if you or Kirra or somebody doesn’t tend him.” And with that supremely indifferent remark, he turned around and began kicking his way back through piles of brown leaves.

Senneth dropped her head to her updrawn knees. “I feel so old,” she said.

Tayse was laughing. “He’s even younger than he looks,” he said. “But I think you’re wanted back at camp.”

He stepped forward to help her stand, but she was on her feet with one lithe movement that belied her earlier exhaustion. He wondered for a moment if she just didn’t want him to touch her hand. Then he followed her back to camp. Only when they arrived there did he realize that neither of them had bothered to fetch water.

Donnal was stretched on a blanket before the fire. Dusk was gathering its full force by now, so the pallor of his face might be explained by the failing light—but probably not. Kirra or someone had cut open his shirt over his right shoulder and laid bare a long, deep wound.

Kirra looked up in relief when Senneth materialized before the fire. “I’ve done what I can but I think you—” she said, and paused. Senneth nodded and knelt down beside the hurt man.

“Donnal,” she said, her voice low but sharp. “Can you hear me? Are you able to talk?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “But I’m—it hurts—I don’t know if I can—”

“All right. Don’t bother speaking. I just wanted to let you know. The touch of my hand is going to burn. You’re going to need to lie very still. It will be bad for a few moments, but then it will be much better. Do you understand me? Can you lie quiet?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

Tayse gestured to Justin, and the two of them dropped to the ground on either side of the hurt man. “We’ll hold him, just in case,” Tayse said.

She nodded, not looking at him. When they had gripped Donnal tightly to the ground, she extended her right hand so it hovered only an inch or so above his flesh. Tayse watched her face. It was as guarded as ever, but more so—as if she had gone even deeper within herself to summon some special strength or knowledge. A moment she hesitated, and then she laid her palm along Donnal’s bloody wound.

Donnal grunted with pain and shuddered against their hold, as if straining both not to scream and not to struggle. Tayse’s gaze dropped to Senneth’s hand, but there was nothing to see, no strange glow emanating between her fingers, nothing but skin against skin, with a layer of blood between. He watched her face again, drawn in concentration. The firelight flickered over her cheeks and danced in the white streaks of her hair. Tayse was seized by the odd belief that if he touched her, she would feel like the fire itself.

Donnal was breathing hard, his muscles still bunched against their hold, but his dark eyes were open and fixed on Senneth’s face. She didn’t watch him, she didn’t appear to be looking anywhere, not at her hand, not at the fire, not out into the darkness. Inward, perhaps, with her eyes wide open. They all held their poses for five minutes, or ten—Tayse lost track—and then suddenly Senneth caught her breath and lifted her hand. She sat back on her heels and focused on Donnal.

Who had gone limp and boneless beneath the Riders’ hands. Tayse glanced down at him, to find his face loose with relief. The wound still looked ugly and raw, but the pain, at least, seemed to have passed.

“Are you done?” Tayse asked Senneth, releasing his hold on the hurt man. She nodded.

“He’ll still need a day or two to fully heal. But he should be well on his way now.”

BOOK: Mystic and Rider (Twelve Houses)

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