Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (38 page)
Read Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
She glanced at him, then let her gaze roam the entire circle. “He plots rebellion,” she said. “He wants to unseat the king.”
They responded with murmurs of surprise and excitement, but it was all a sort of remote interest. Gillengaria was not their concern; what they cared about lay across the Lireth Mountains. “Rebellion and war—very ugly,” Wynlo’s brother said. “Are you certain?”
“Entirely. He told me to my face. He believes the king is old and weak and his daughter not fit to rule after him.”
The men exchanged glances and offered a series of incomplete rejoinders. “Well—a woman on the throne—he might be pardoned for having some doubts—”
Their reaction was no less annoying for being wholly anticipated. Senneth cloaked her thoughts and said, “No doubt the king will see her married well and the mother of a promising son very soon. And doesn’t
that
boy deserve to hold on to the property that is his by blood heritage?”
that
boy deserve to hold on to the property that is his by blood heritage?”
Now they were all nodding in agreement, instantly throwing the weight of their opinion behind the unborn heir who should never be deprived of a birthright.
“Always wrong to try to usurp the position of a proven leader,” Wynlo’s brother said with finality. “Unless the man is evil or mad or incompetent, and even then, it is his family who steps in to move him aside. The family is there to keep the family strong.”
“What sort of
sebahta-ris
does this Baryn have?” Wynlo wanted to know.
sebahta-ris
does this Baryn have?” Wynlo wanted to know.
The Bright Mother knew she would not be able to break down the bloodlines of the Twelve Houses for them in anythingunder a day. “Alliances are forming among the noble families of Gillengaria,” she said. “We don’t reckon kinship as you do—sometimes, with us, friendship matters more than blood. But when I tally the numbers, I see them close to equal. Which frightens me. We could be headed for a war that devastates the entire country.”
“We have not had true war in the Lirrens for a century,” Hayden said, his voice almost wistful.
Senneth looked straight at him. “Nor we,” she said. “But in past times, the men of the Lirrens fought side by side with men of Gillengaria.”
The younger men all looked intrigued at the thought, the older four disturbed. “Gillengaria’s troubles are not ours,” Wynlo said. “The mountains are between us for a reason.”
“If Halchon Gisseltess seizes the throne, I think he is the kind of man who will look around and see what else he might want to take,” Senneth said. “The Lirrens are the closest thing at hand.”
“I think he might find Lirrenfolk difficult to subdue,” Wynlo said.
“I hope he does not have the chance to try,” Senneth said. “I hope quarreling friends and brothers can find a way to mend their differences. I hope war never comes. But if it does, I hope the king’s forces can win against a rebel army.” She swept her gaze across all seven of them again. “I would hope that rebel army would not be swelled by Lirren swords.”
Wynlo’s brother shook his head. “We do not take up arms against our own leaders. If we had a reason to fight in this war of yours, we would fight on the side of your king. But we have no reason to fight.”
She glanced at the younger men again. “But if some of your sons and nephews wanted to join our war? Would you stop them?”
Wynlo and his brother exchanged troubled looks. “No one ever stopped a young man who wanted to fight,” his brother said shortly.
Hayden laughed. “It would be exciting to be in a war,” he said. “There is nothing to fight for across the mountains.”
“Maybe not for you, brother,” Torrin said, taunting a little. “I have fought for a woman’s honor or the slight to a cousin’s name.”
Senneth turned to survey him. “Did you actually duel the Bramlis rascal who courted your cousin Rosurie?”
He nodded, his dark face lighting with pleasure at the memory. “I did. And you may be sure I beat him so badly he will not come calling on her again, even once she is home among her family again.”
“That was a good fight,” Hayden said. “Too fast, though.”
Torrin looked contemptuous. “And at that I had to hold myself back so I didn’t defeat him too quickly. I wanted him to feel every blow, to remember for the rest of his life what the punishment would be for trying to seduce a Domen woman.”
“Are you the champion of your family?” she asked. “The one who would be chosen to fight if there was an insult to avenge?”
They were all nodding. “Though Hayden, here, he’s almost as good,” Torrin’s uncle said.
“I’ve never beaten Torrin,” Hayden said—half ashamed of himself, half proud of his brother. “But almost no one else can defeat me!”
“When Torrin took on the Bramlis boy.
That
was a fight worth seeing,” the uncle said.
That
was a fight worth seeing,” the uncle said.
It didn’t take much prompting for Torrin to begin recounting, in tedious detail, the duel he had fought with the unfortunate Bramlis fellow. Senneth listened, deliberately allowing a smile to come to her face, but she didn’t say anything until Torrin began to dislike her expression.
“Why do you look that way?” he demanded with a scowl. He was hotheaded and sure of himself, and probably with reason. He was slim and small-boned as most of the Lirrenfolk were, but he was also quick and well muscled. She imagined he was an exceptionally dangerous man in a fight. Not one to hold back. Not one to allow any fear for his own safety to slow him down.
“I was thinking, you are probably one of the most skillful swordsmen across the Lireth Mountains,” she said. “But there are fighters here in Gillengaria you would not be able to defeat.”
“I would,” he said instantly. “Show me any man here that you think can wield a blade! I’ll take him on.”
“I think I could defeat you,” she said deliberately.
There was, for a moment, absolute silence among her listeners.
“You?”
Torrin exclaimed, while Hayden and the other young man laughed. The older men, however, looked more thoughtful. Senneth saw Wynlo give her a second, more careful inspection, noting her height, her reach, the breadth of her shoulders. The sleeves of her dark blue gown concealed the muscles in her arms, but his gaze lingered on her wrists, her long-fingered hands.
Torrin exclaimed, while Hayden and the other young man laughed. The older men, however, looked more thoughtful. Senneth saw Wynlo give her a second, more careful inspection, noting her height, her reach, the breadth of her shoulders. The sleeves of her dark blue gown concealed the muscles in her arms, but his gaze lingered on her wrists, her long-fingered hands.
She smiled and her voice became soft, almost dreamy. Back to that storytelling singsong. “Do you hear, even across the Lireth Mountains, tales of the King’s Riders?” she inquired. “Fifty men and women whose lives are dedicated to protecting the crown. They train all day—on foot, on horseback—they practice with swords, with crossbows, with daggers, with bare hands. It is said that it takes two men to hold a Rider at bay, three men to kill him, four men to find the courage to drag his body to a grave. And a whole battalion to run in fear from his fellow Riders who come to avenge his death.”
“I’ve heard of King’s Riders,” Wynlo said quietly. “They are respected for their bravery and their skill, but they are legendary for their loyalty.”
She nodded. “No Rider has ever betrayed his king.”
“But they are still men,” Torrin argued. “They can still be defeated.”
She looked at him. “Men and women,” she said.
He looked her over, something like a sneer on his face. “And you are one of these Riders? You?”
She shook her head. She was smiling again, mostly because she could tell it annoyed him. Somewhat against her will, she rather liked this arrogant and abrasive young man. This must have been what Justin was like when he first joined the Riders. Was still like, except somewhat less extreme. “I have not had the honor of being named a King’s Rider,” she said. “But I have friends among them. I train with them. I have lifted my sword against a Rider’s sword many times in practice—and I have given a good accounting of myself, too, though I have never yet defeated a Rider.”
Hayden was frowning. “In the Lirrenlands, women do not fight battles,” he said.
“We are in Gillengaria now,” she said serenely.
“But if you are Lahja,” he persisted, “you should behave as a Lirren woman would.”
And surely
that
had been coming since the conversation opened. “I am
bahta-lo
,” she said very gravely, and they all looked surprised and then nodded. Then they inspected her again.
that
had been coming since the conversation opened. “I am
bahta-lo
,” she said very gravely, and they all looked surprised and then nodded. Then they inspected her again.
She had explained this carefully to Tayse and Cammon one night as they camped on the road. Tayse had wanted to know why she thought the Lirren men would listen to anything she had to say if they held women in such low esteem. “They don’t despise their women, you’ve got that wrong,” she had said. “They love their women—too much so, maybe—they protect their women almost single-mindedly. They think women must be kept safe at all costs.”
“You don’t exactly behave like a woman who allows herself to be taken care of,” Tayse had pointed out. “Aren’t they going to think you need to be cowering on a farm somewhere, following the orders of a father or brother?”
“I am
bahta-lo
,” she had told him. And when both he and Cammon demanded to know what that meant, she had said, “That means ‘above the clan.’ A woman apart. Every once in a while—it’s very rare—a woman chooses to leave the protection of her family and become a wanderer. Often these women are skilled healers who feel compelled to go wherever there is great sickness, no matter what clan has been affected. Sometimes they are older women who have demonstrated uncanny wisdom over the years, and they become mediators, particularly between warring clans. Sometimes, to tell the truth, they’re completely mad, and they roam from one corner of the Lirrens to the other, and no one harms them, and everyone shows them respect. The Persals accepted my claim of
bahta-lo
when it became clear I wasn’t going to turn into a docile woman and marry some domineering Lahja boy. They loved me anyway, but this allowed them to set me free.”
bahta-lo
,” she had told him. And when both he and Cammon demanded to know what that meant, she had said, “That means ‘above the clan.’ A woman apart. Every once in a while—it’s very rare—a woman chooses to leave the protection of her family and become a wanderer. Often these women are skilled healers who feel compelled to go wherever there is great sickness, no matter what clan has been affected. Sometimes they are older women who have demonstrated uncanny wisdom over the years, and they become mediators, particularly between warring clans. Sometimes, to tell the truth, they’re completely mad, and they roam from one corner of the Lirrens to the other, and no one harms them, and everyone shows them respect. The Persals accepted my claim of
bahta-lo
when it became clear I wasn’t going to turn into a docile woman and marry some domineering Lahja boy. They loved me anyway, but this allowed them to set me free.”
It was clear that Wynlo and the rest did not entirely approve of kinsmen who had been weak-willed enough to let an adopted daughter slip out of their hands. “We do not have any
bahta-lo
among the Alowa,” Wynlo’s brother said.
bahta-lo
among the Alowa,” Wynlo’s brother said.
“A family does not choose to name a woman
bahta-lo.
A family accepts that that is what a woman has become,” Senneth said. “And a woman does not choose such a path lightly. She chooses it because that is the will of the goddess. The Black Mother has set this restlessness in her heart, and she must give in to that urge to wander, or die.”
bahta-lo.
A family accepts that that is what a woman has become,” Senneth said. “And a woman does not choose such a path lightly. She chooses it because that is the will of the goddess. The Black Mother has set this restlessness in her heart, and she must give in to that urge to wander, or die.”
Wynlo nodded reluctantly. His brother looked thoughtful. Torrin’s mind was quickly back on other matters. “
Bahto-lo
or not, you still cannot defeat me in a duel,” he said.
Bahto-lo
or not, you still cannot defeat me in a duel,” he said.
She smiled at him. “I’m sure I can.”
He tilted his chin up at her. Oh,
so
like Justin. “If you have a weapon with you, I would like to prove you wrong,” he said. “Is it permitted here at Coravann Keep that we match swords?”
so
like Justin. “If you have a weapon with you, I would like to prove you wrong,” he said. “Is it permitted here at Coravann Keep that we match swords?”
“There is a training yard on the grounds. Heffel will be happy to allow us to use it. And indeed, I have a weapon with me. I never travel without it.”
Torrin’s eyebrows rose. He looked excited and scornful all at the same time. Nothing like the prospect of a little bloodshed to improve a young man’s mood. “Then let us meet tomorrow to test our skill against each other.”
“Let us do so. May we invite anyone we choose to be our witnesses? Or do you prefer to limit the audience?”
“Anyone may attend,” Torrin said.
“And should we set rules? Decide beforehand what constitutes a win? I am not looking to strike a death blow, you understand—as I hope you are not, either!”
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