Dark Moon Defender by Sharon Shinn
Too many kisses, not enough plans.
He was glum and sullen for two days, until he noticed how carefully Delz was avoiding him, and he realized he was behaving like a man who would start a fight without provocation. So he forced himself to improve his mood, at least outwardly, and was relieved to see Delz relax. Faeber came up to him that night at dinner and talked breezily for twenty minutes, and the magistrate hadn’t said a word to him for days.
Justin supposed he could seem fairly ferocious when he was in a foul mood. None of the Riders, of course, was afraid of him, so he wasn’t used to the effect his scowl might have.
And, anyway, he was rarely ill-tempered, at least as he saw it. Sarcastic and disdainful, yes, much of the time, but he never felt like this—like he wanted to pummel someone, anyone, merely for the crime of breathing. He expended his considerable energy by doing extra work around the stables. When Delz wasn’t around, he took off his boots and shirt and practiced bladework in the barn. His body hadn’t lost any of its conditioning during this enforced exile from the training yard, but his hand might be a bit slower on the feint, he thought. He pulled his dagger into his left hand, kept his sword in his right, and practiced thrusting and parrying against insubstantial opponents. If only there were another Rider here to train against! He hated the thought that he might be losing an inch of ground, a fraction of his speed.
As if a particular goddess watched over him and heard that prayer, the very next day his plea was answered.
IT was evening, but the greatest rush of night traffic was over, and Delz had just told Justin he could leave to get his supper. Justin stepped outside into the gathering dark and noted that the temperature had dropped considerably from the sunny afternoon. Three riders were approaching at a lazy trot, angling toward the stables in a way that made Justin think they were looking to house their horses for the night. He paused, willing to do Delz a favor by taking in these last stragglers. A woman and two men, the one man good-sized, muscular, about the build of Tayse —
Justin slapped his fist against his thigh and hurried forward, smiling broadly. It was Tayse—and Senneth and Cammon— all of them wearing warm smiles to match his own. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, catching at Senneth’s bridle as they got close enough to stop. Her hair was in even greater disarray than usual, as if they’d ridden through wind-storms at breakneck speed. Or as if she’d merely failed to comb it that morning. He looked over at the other Rider. “You said you’d send messengers, but I didn’t think you’d be coming yourself.”
“We’ve got business in Coravann and decided to ride through Neft,” Tayse said. “Cammon said he wanted to come.”
“Should we have some kind of alias ready?” Senneth inquired. “Or would people expect you to actually have friends among the king’s men?”
He grinned. Tayse wasn’t displaying his royal insignia, and Senneth never wore anything that showed off her Brassenthwaite heritage. It would be easy to pass them off as mercenaries or drifters. “I’m not sure anyone would believe that tale. We’d better find another one.”
The three of them dismounted and looked around. “Where does a person sleep in this town?” Senneth wanted to know.
“I’m in a boardinghouse up the street. I’ve only got one extra bed, but there might be more rooms to rent. If not, I can sleep in the stables.”
“Where do we eat? I’m starving,” Cammon said.
Tayse gave Justin one quick, serious look. “We have much to talk about that is best said in private,” Tayse said quietly. “Perhaps it would be better to buy food and bring it here. If that’s allowed.”
Justin nodded. “I’ll tell Delz—the owner. He won’t care. It’s a couple more hours he won’t have to mind the stables.”
“Come on, Cam, you and I will go find this boardinghouse,” Senneth said. “Tayse, you’ll go foraging for food?”
He nodded at her and pulled a pack from the saddle, jingling with coins. Justin gathered up all the bridles.
“I’ll settle the horses and tell Delz to go home,” he said. “See you soon.”
HALF an hour later they were all disposed around the front room of the stables, sitting on benches and bales of hay. Tayse had brought back more food than they could possibly eat, so they were all feeling full and happy. Outside, the night air was chilly, but inside, Senneth’s magic made the room comfortably warm. She’d also lit tapers at strategic points to give them more light than Justin was used to indoors at this hour. Place looked a little grimy when you could see it this clearly. Maybe he should spend a few hours cleaning next week.
Tayse hadn’t received Justin’s message, since his party had left Ghosenhall before it arrived, so Justin filled him in on Halchon’s arrival and the Lestra’s nighttime depredations. The other Rider was deeply displeased to learn that the marlord had slipped away from Gissel Plain a second time.
“He’ll have to go back, though, won’t he?” Justin said as he finished up his meal.
“I assume so, since I would think that’s where he keeps both his money and his manpower,” said Tayse. “Unless he’s craftier than we realize and has set up armies and stores of gold in secret locations.”
“I’m betting on him being crafty,” Senneth said pessimistically.
“No reason some of that gold couldn’t be in the convent,” Justin said. “Since he was there. And it’s fortified. And defended.”
“Actually, that seems to be a likely hiding place,” Tayse said.
“And if it is,” Justin added, “anyone working with Halchon Gisseltess could ride up to the convent and get access to some of the gold. Rayson Fortunalt, for instance. He was here the other day, or at least I think it was him.”
Senneth was frowning. “What would Rayson need with more money? He’s got plenty of his own—and taxing his vassals at a rate that’s causing plenty of complaints, I might add. A half dozen of the lesser Fortunalt lords were in Ghosenhall for the summit with the regent.”
Tayse gave her a long, considering look. “Why would Rayson Fortunalt need more money?” he repeated. “Who might he be paying?”
“Soldiers,” Justin said promptly.
“Can’t he afford his own army?”
Justin glanced at Senneth, who was still frowning. “Hiring from somewhere else?” Justin guessed. “Freelance mercenaries? Malcontents from the loyal Houses? How much money would that take?”
“This is worrisome,” Senneth said. “All along we’ve been assuming Halchon is raising an army of zealots—people who hate mystics, who think the king is too old to rule, people who are genuinely afraid for the future. I believe they’re misguided, but they have some personal stake in a war, if it should come. But if Rayson is raising an army of mercenaries—with Halchon Gisseltess’s money—”
“That ends up being an even bigger army than we thought,” Tayse said.
“Exactly.”
“Well, we’re just speculating about the gold,” Justin said.
“It’s a speculation that has the unfortunate ring of truth,” Tayse replied.
Cammon, who had been quiet during this whole discussion, stirred on his seat of hay. “I wonder how we can find out if there’s a store of money at Lumanen Convent,” he said.
Senneth glanced at him, faintly smiling. “Can you ride by the gates and concentrate? Try to sense great piles of gold locked in one of the empty rooms?”
“No,” he said regretfully. “I never get a sense of things. Only people.”
Justin was laughing. “Well, maybe you can sense if any people there are planning how they can break in and steal a fat handful of coins.”
Cammon looked intrigued. “That I might be able to do.”
“Seems risky and not particularly useful,” Tayse said. “I’m willing to assume the money’s there.”
Justin considered. “I wonder if Ellynor could find out.”
There was a moment’s silence while the other three all looked at him. “Ellynor?” Senneth said in a neutral
Justin tried to look casual. “A novice from the convent. I’ve made friends with her.”
“On the face of it, an impossible task,” Tayse said.
Justin shrugged, as if the tale didn’t matter. “She was walking the streets of Neft until she was attacked by a man who was interested in something other than a moonstone. I stopped him, and we fought—well, it wasn’t much of a fight—then I brought her back here. We talked a little bit. I couldn’t see what good it could do, exactly, but I thought it might be useful to have someone who lived inside Lumanen and had some goodwill toward us.”
“Have you seen her since that first time?” Tayse asked.
“Actually, yes. She’s been sent to Neft a few times to nurse an old woman. Wait, let me see if I’ve got this right.” He couldn’t keep all the Twelfth House bloodlines straight, but he knew Senneth would instantly be able to recognize the names. “There’s a woman here in town named Jenetta Gisseltess. She has a big mansion. I can show it to you. She gives a lot of money to the Lumanen Convent. So Coralinda tries to keep her happy and brought a bunch of the novices in to pray over Jenetta’s mother when they thought the mother was dying. She’s still alive, though, and she’s someone from Nocklyn—a serramarra, I think? Is that right? Paulina, that’s her name.”
Senneth was nodding. “Els Nocklyn’s sister. Mayva’s aunt.” Justin remembered now. Marlord Els was sick and his daughter, Mayva, was running his estates—but Mayva was married to a Gisseltess man, and so Kirra and Senneth had figured Nocklyn would side against them in a war. “Interesting information, but I don’t see how it helps us any.”
“Ellynor says Paulina doesn’t care much for Coralinda and her religion.”
That caught Senneth’s attention. “So you’ve discussed some rather delicate subjects with this Ellynor?”
He nodded. “Yes. We’ve had pretty long conversations. I feel like I know her.”
“You think she’s someone you can actually trust?”
“Well—I do,” he said.
“Have you told her who you are?” Tayse asked.
“No. But we’ve—talked about things. I don’t think she likes being at the convent. She’s a little afraid of the Lestra. But she doesn’t seem too sure she can leave.”
Tayse was grinning. “Not an easy place to break free of, unless you have assistance.”
“I’ve offered to help her escape,” Justin said.
That brought another short silence. “So, Justin,” Senneth said softly. “Why don’t you tell us exactly what your relationship is with this girl?”
He felt a flare of anger and defiance. Was Senneth going to berate him now, warn him against making rash friendships with mysterious women? Was she going to scold him about risking his mission, risking his life, endangering the kingdom? He swung over to glare at her, but her wide gray eyes were filled with a cool compassion.
Senneth was unlikely to ever moralize about falling in love where it was least expedient.
“I don’t know—I mean, I’m not sure I understand it myself,” he said a little jerkily. “She is—I like her very much— I’m worried about her. I don’t think she should stay at the convent. I can only meet with her when she’s in town, of course, and she says the convent guards wouldn’t like it at all if they saw us together. I think she’s in danger, that’s all, and I want to help her. I will help her, if I get a chance and she needs me.”
He expected Tayse to say something grave like Make sure your feelings for this girl don’t interfere with your responsibilities , but the big man was watching Senneth, reading something on Senneth’s face that led him to keep quiet. It was more than Justin could do; he could not guess what Senneth was thinking.
Still, when she spoke, her voice remained gentle. “What kind of person is she? What makes you like her so much?”
Kirra had asked this question and he hadn’t answered it very well. “Why does anybody like anybody?” he said irritably. “Just because you do.”
Cammon spoke up in an encouraging voice. “You like her hair,” he said.
Sweet gods, and had Cammon just picked that up from his thoughts? Senneth was laughing. “Go on, Justin, tell us about her hair.”
He grinned reluctantly. “It’s long—way past her waist. Dark. With this—” He waved a hand over the back of his own head—“this light pattern dyed into it. These flowers and bird shapes—I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Surely it was his imagination that Senneth, for a moment, seemed truly aghast. Cammon glanced at her curiously, but Tayse was the next one to speak.
“Did you learn anything about her at all? Where she comes from? What her family is?”
“I don’t think I’m the next one who’s going to fall in love with a serramarra,” Justin said, trying to joke. “Pretty sure she’s not from a noble House. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s from deep in Merrenstow or Tilt or Storian, from some tiny farm community miles from any big town. She has a large family— brothers and uncles and cousins—one of her cousins is at the convent with her, in fact. She seems very close to all of them. I think she’s more homesick than she expected to be.”
Senneth was nodding, as if everything he said tallied with something she had expected to hear.
“What have you told her about yourself?” Tayse asked.
“A little bit about my own family.” That surprised the other Rider, he could tell; Justin never discussed his mother and sisters. “A little bit about—oh, soldiering that I’ve done. Said I used to ride in a lord’s private guard. She knows there’s something I’m not telling her. I don’t think she wants to ask in case I turn out to be someone horrible. She’d rather think I’m chivalrous and kind.”
“Well, if she’s seen you in a brawl she knows you’re not always kind,” Cammon said, laughing.
“I think her brothers are fighters, too. At any rate, she wasn’t that impressed.”
Senneth abruptly got to her feet. “Maybe that’s because you’ve lost your edge a little, skulking about Neft, not working out every day. Maybe you’re not as fearsome as you used to be.”
Surprised and a little wary, Justin grinned up at her. Were they done talking about Ellynor then? He was relieved but not quite sure why the conversation had taken a turn. “Still better than you are any day,” he said, making it a taunt.
Her face wore that lurking smile that meant she was thinking something she would never tell you. “Do you think so? You’ve been gone eight weeks, and I’ve been training with the Riders all that time. I just might be able to defeat you. Grab a sword. Let me see.”
He didn’t move. “Can you beat Tayse yet?”
“No.”
“Well, you won’t be able to beat me, either.”
“I bet I can. You’ll be surprised at how much better I’ve gotten.”
He glanced at Tayse, whose own face was unreadable. Was it really possible the other Rider thought Justin’s skills had waned during the days he’d been gone from Ghosenhall? “Practice swords or real swords?” he asked in a silky voice.
Senneth laughed. “Real.”
“Practice,” Tayse countermanded. Senneth rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother arguing. No one contradicted Tayse. The older Rider nodded at Cammon. “You pay attention at the door. Make sure no one comes in unexpectedly to see vagabonds practicing Rider tricks.”