plot bnny death place

by fanfics-for-a-blind-friend

mestly dead plot stuff, some notes and thoughts. for aud

10. Chapter 8

Devotions

Chapter Eight — Devotions

November

Yuki's pregnancy changed the travel plans. She began to experience morning sickness, and though one of Neal's inevitable teas helped alleviate it he became concerned about the ride to Corus and changes in diet it would involve. Her protests that she would be fine were not, Kel thought, as forceful as they might have been, and diminished as the weather continued wet. Neal was torn between wanting his multiplying Yamani rose secure in Corus and not wanting her to risk the journey, contemplating with equal discontent leaving her alone at New Hope in winter or behind in Corus when he had to return north. Despite the loss of personal support Kel offered him leave to remain in Corus until June—but Yuki was having none of that and suggested she and Neal should both remain at New Hope. He was willing but would have to seek the King's leave to ignore the summons Kel and all the knights had received, which she didn't think would be forthcoming—but was wrong. Relaying His Majesty's approval and congratulations Wyldon smiled at her.

"It's you he and the Council want to see, Keladry." Kel scowled and Wyldon waved a hand. "The others were included in a fit of Palace thoroughness, but while I'm sure they'd have interesting accounts to give they can only supplement yours, especially where the gods are concerned. Queenscove's request is reasonable and no-one wants to drag a healer away from his wife's first pregnancy."

"Mmm. I'm concerned about their being snowed in here, though."

Wyldon shrugged. "Lady Yukimi couldn't have a better healer on hand in Corus except Duke Baird, and he'll be back here in spring. Northern cold aside, I don't see she's any worse off. In any case the King says they can stay if they want. And I don't suppose you mind your people having a first-rate healer during the winter."

That was true, especially as there were pregnancies more advanced than Yuki's. New Hope should add several souls before she could hope to be back, and while there was a hedgewitch among the refugees, healer Morri didn't have much experience of delivery—an issue that bothered Kel though she hadn't wanted to broach the topic of childbed mishap in Yuki's presence.

"Alright, I'll tell them. Is there anything else?"

"A couple of things." He flipped papers, extracting some. "Your last report was another of what Vanget has taken to calling your 'eyebrow-lifters'—not unreasonably." His mouth quirked but his eyes were dark. "Did you have to include the nicknames the soldiers gave those skulls? Vanget's laughter was immoderate but he's as puzzled as we all are. There's no doubt it was stormwings?"

"It wasn't anyone here, Wyldon. Those skulls were boiled clean and no-one here did that, or placed them where we found them."

"Fair enough. I suppose it's just that a soldiers' joke would be easier than this … mystery." He rubbed his brow. "You said a stormwing apologised to you about their desecration of Haven.

Have you tried asking one what in the mortal realms they think they're doing?"

"There've been none to be seen so I've not had the chance, but if I get it I surely will. I wanted to ask Daine as well—she's the only person I know who's ever said she had a stormwing friend."

"Oh, during the Immortals War. I do remember her distress when she returned from Port Legann."

"Rikash Moonsword."

"That's the one. An odd name for such a creature."

"An odd stormwing, I think. Daine said she once dined with him at her parents' house in the Divine Realms, on the same occasion that Numair met Lord Gainel, as well as the Badger and an animal god I didn't understand at all, a … duckmole, she said, called Broadfoot."

Wyldon sighed. "I saw him very briefly during the Immortals War when that enormous dragon brought her and Numair to Corus—some sort of beaver, so far as I could tell. With a beak. The dragon wanted to talk to him and Daine said he'd been stopping Malady from attacking us. I never did understand what she meant."

Kel didn't understand either. "Sounds like a good thing."

"Indeed. I'll ask about the skulls when I can—she was here last week and may be again next. She flew over Rathhausak ten days ago, by the way, and said nothing had been done to fix the castle. It's a shell."

"Huh. No-one to care, I suppose. The Scanran refugees say Maggur hadn't visited since he installed Blayce, five years back, and the village is deserted." She shrugged again, thinking how rotten a man and ruler the Scanran was, whatever his strengths; she might have reservations about King Jonathan but there was no comparison. "His business. Do you want me to remove the skulls? I'm not sure I like them but my people do."

"No, no. Gods know I'd understand if you'd just destroyed them but they were given to you, whatever the reason, and Quenuresh is correct it's an ancient practice to display defeated enemies in that way. Haztor of Pearlmouth records it."

Kel considered. "I think Quenuresh meant ancient in her terms, Wyldon. I once heard her say something had happened 'only thrice since the Godwars' and Neal says no-one has the slightest idea when those were except that it was at least ten thousand years ago."

"Mithros!" Curiosity overcame him for once. "What had happened only three times in all that span?"

"Oh … what the Black God did." Conscience squirmed. "Something he said, actually." Wyldon raised his eyebrows. "I saw his face."

His eyebrows snapped down. "You didn't say that before."

"No, it's … very personal." She took refuge. "I'll be talking to Lady Alanna about it. I'm sorry not to say, but …"

"No, no. Gods are personal, I understand that, especially a meeting with that one." Obviously concerned he didn't probe. "On another matter, then, how's that horse of yours?"

That news she hadn't included in her report and explained how Peachblossom fared, adding with a straight face that he'd taken to inspecting the nightwatch and garnering a laugh that pleased her.

"That sounds splendid. The sentries must be quaking."

"More or less. But they say he keeps them company, as Jump and other dogs do." She smiled wistfully. "He checks in at the gatehouse regularly. That they keep apples there has nothing to do with it."

"Naturally. Still, I'd like to see him doing rounds." Wyldon seemed to reach a decision. "I shan't be able to do so for a while—I doubt I'll get over to you again before the snows—but Owen'll be along next week."

"Really? It'll be nice to see him, but what warrants a trip?"

"He's fretting about his Ordeal and a trip in charge of some escort squads and a mailbag will occupy him nicely. By the time he's gets back we'll need to be leaving for Corus. And that reminds me—I've been meaning to ask you if you'd be willing to instruct him with me."

She managed not to exclaim. "Of course, Wyldon. I'm honoured you'd ask me." She'd forgotten Owen was due to undergo his Ordeal of Knighthood this Midwinter; it seemed odd that it was less than a year since her own, odder still that she'd be instructing another, but the gift of the offer was intensely pleasing.

"Excellent. I couldn't find a better knight for the job and Owen will agree." He smiled warmly. "He is in a bit of a fidget about it all, though. Understandably, but he does have such a lot of energy to fidget with. The trip's as much to save me strangling him as to give him something to do, even if only guarding a mailbag."

She thought of an antsy Owen and grinned. "He'll be fine. Anything in that mailbag to concern me?"

"Not that I know of." There was a blandness in his voice Kel mistrusted and he raised hands at her look. "Truly, Keladry. The escort is because there'll be a commander's purse—I realised you've never been issued one and you should have something on hand, if only for occasional food purchases when opportunity knocks."

"Oh." She frowned. "Not many of those except from the Vassa fishermen, sometimes, and they're happy to barter."

"Even so. I bet you're personally out-of-pocket by now,"

"Well …" She had paid for fish, and furs to persuade woodmen who survived in the hills between New Hope and Tirrsmont to report Scanran movements and send warning even if meant abandoning traplines.

"Exactly. I shall expect your first indent to be for reimbursement."

"It doesn't matter, Wyldon, Lalasa insists on tithing to me from her dress-shop so I've more money than I can use already. And I won quite a bit jousting during the Progress."

"You hang on to it." The blandness intensified. "Army regulations say a commander should have an official fund, and so you shall."

With that she had to be content, waiting for Owen with niggling curiosity. He was

preceded by other messengers—a squad accompanying Duke Baird in surprising person, on his way to Corus, and two days later one carrying an urgent letter for Seaver. Baird had been strictly charged by his wife—or rather, an expectant grandmother suffering acute yips—with thrilled approbation and a long, long list of advice for Yuki, most of which Baird sensibly ignored. He was concerned to see her, and did, with delighted pleasure of his own as an expectant grandfather; watching him beaming Kel realised he and the Duchess must have waited for this moment for a long time, since the deaths without issue of their elder sons during the Immortals War. Baird was also deeply curious about New Hope and gratifyingly staggered by its reality, expressing unqualified admiration as Kel gave her ever-expanding tour and lingering a day longer than intended to meet Quenuresh, with a set face but impeccable courtesy. The delay meant he was still there when the letter for Seaver arrived, telling him in his mother's trembling hand that his eldest brother, Lord of Tasride since the untimely death of his father, had died of a cruel fever that carried off a score of people in the fief. As the youngest of three sons Seaver did not stand to inherit and his brother had left a young heir, but his presence was urgently requested and after granting immediate leave Kel waved him sadly off within the hour, Baird and his escort in hasty tow.

For the next few days Kel couldn't help remembering being told years before, in the Islands, of the letter informing her parents that Anders had been crippled—just like poor Dom and Peachblossom. She had never, thank Mithros, had notification of a death herself and prayed it would stay that way for a long time. It had been a worry whenever her parents had gone to Yaman, with all the hazards of shipwreck and piracy on the Emerald Sea, and when she'd known Inness was in action on this border, but the tiring business of daily life as page and squire had kept it largely out of her mind. A commander's work could do that too, she found, though with winter routines keeping fieldwork to a minimum and reducing patrols in number and range the demands of action and paperwork were slackening, so she threw herself into weapons training with gusto. Jump and the sparrows had a backlog of neglect made up, and when it turned out that neither all the Scanrans nor the newer convict soldiers were adequately familiar with the various signals used by sparrows, dogs, and the marmalade cat who lived with Fanche and Saefas she spent several mornings rectifying the deficiency.

The arrival of Northwatch Company Fourteen under Mikal of Holtwood was thus doubly welcome, and she watched them marching crisply up valley one happily dry morning with satisfaction. They brought a wagon-train of personal gear and additional food, on which the cooks fell with interest while—after a long, interesting process of naming and declaring under the lintel —an empty barracks filled with men unpacking and stashing spare uniforms and what few personal items each had. Mikal she'd never met but Brodhelm spoke well of him and he seemed competent and pleasant—a swarthy man with a welcome glint of humour and a no-nonsense manner. With many interested onlookers she formed the arrivals up on the green with offduty squads from Brodhelm's and Uinse's companies, introduced herself, her knights, captains, civilian leaders, and resident immortals, explained about Quenuresh and the griffins, went carefully through standing orders with flat-voiced emphases, and paired every new man with one of Brodhelm's or Uinse's. The sponsors had the duty of showing their charges around and making introductions, and the charges the responsibility of shadowing their sponsors on duty for a week to learn the ropes.

"You'll find it different here," she concluded, generating wry nods from men already bug-eyed at what they'd seen and stealing glances at basilisks and ogres. "But in a good way, I promise. And don't think it's any kind of rest camp. You'll see action here. King Maggot's been a bit distracted this summer, and the central front's been quiet for the most part—but we've faced several attacks in the last two months and taken casualties, military and civilian. And snow's not fallen yet so always keep alert. We have regular training sessions for everyone, as you've probably heard, and as well as the usual staff, sword-, spear-, and bow-work there'll be tools and weapons you may not be familiar with—griffin-bands that mean you can't be fooled by illusions,

slings, and ways of using spears as slicing weapons, not just to stab. We've plenty of horses so we do lancework as well, for everyone who can ride well enough, not just knights—they're the weapon of choice against giants and tauroses. And as you saw we've had dealings with those. What the lads call our trophies I'll leave them to tell. Now, to your tours."

Keeping her voice cheerful had been an effort but she thought she'd managed, and knew she'd done better than in her last address to assembled soldiers however her mind still keened behind its glass. She directed squads to start in different places and rotate in different directions, so they were spread out, and after watching the efficient bustle for a moment retired to headquarters with Mikal, Brodhelm, Uinse, and Merric to begin proper integration of Company Fourteen into the duty schedule, other rosters, and contingency plans for attacks of all kinds. With three full companies, two regular, all sorts of things could be done properly or augmented, from archers firing by turns on the alures to more thorough patrolling, each with a host of details and consequences. Mikal was surprised by the range of what New Hope did as routine, and pleased with the friendly atmosphere. He was junior to Brodhelm but senior to Uinse and Merric, and would be third-in-command—Brodhelm's second in her absence—so she in turn was pleased by his professionalism and flexibility.

They were still at it next afternoon when Owen's arrival with two escort squads was reported, and she left them to wrangle about how best to organise practices. Owen had made it as far as the shelf when she rounded the stables to see that he was riding a warhorse Wyldon must have given him to replace Happy, a big bay gelding similar to his lamented predecessor, and leading an even larger liver chestnut.

"Kel! How splendid to see you!" He dismounted and threw his arms around her in a crushing brotherly hug as she reached him.

"Oof. Put me down, Owen! That's better."

"Sorry, Kel, discipline and all that, I know, but it is good to see you. And you've everything running sharp as a pin to judge from the guards. I like your tauros heads too—they're very jolly." His face suddenly fell. "But it was horrid what happened. Are you alright?"

Time as Wyldon's squire at Mastiff had taught Owen skill in eavesdropping and even some tact, but his artless friendship was all his own. One of her bets with herself when she'd learned he was coming was that Chargy, Bargy, Horny, Toothy, Dimwit, Flatnose, and Pizzle would each be jollier than the last. Affectionately she clapped his shoulder.

"I'm fine, Owen. You've a new horse, I see. He's a beauty."

"Isn't he just?" Owen beamed. "He's really called Windstrider because his dam and sire were the same as Happy's who was really Windtreader but I call him Happy Two because he is! And the liver chestnut's for you, if you'd like him, with my Lord's compliments."

Kel was trying to parse Owen's second sentence when the third caught up with her. "What did you say, Owen?"

"Which what? He's Happy Two because he's so like Happy One and he's happy too. It's

a pun."

Kel took a deep breath. "I guessed that, Owen, and I'm happy for you and Happy Two, too." He grinned. "You said something after that."

"The chestnut's for you. My Lord didn't want you without a proper warhorse. Hoshi's splendid but you need a gelding, so he's giving you this one. He does have a name I can tell you if

you want but my Lord said you should feel free to name him yourself so I wasn't to use it."

Shock sank into her. "Wyldon's giving him to me?"

"Yes. He wants to and you need a horse. Poor old Peachblossom. I was sorry to hear about him, but his doing night rounds sounds fun. What's the problem, Kel?"

"I can't accept a horse like that. He must be worth a fortune."

"Why not? He's a good 'un, Kel, and right for you. My Lord's got a wonderful eye for matching horse and rider."

"Owen, it's not right. I ca—"

"Oh bosh. Of course it's right, Kel." His grey eyes were suddenly shrewd. "It's what my Lord has that he can give, and it's what friends do when they're worried, and they can. You can't tell me you're not friends. He calls you Keladry in private now, not the Lady Knight, and you just called him by name alone. I like to think he and I are quite close but if I did that he'd freeze me to death in a heartbeat and quite right too."

"But it's …" What was it, exactly? Food for slanderers like Tirrsmont? Probably, but she wouldn't let that stop her in any other way. A generosity trying to compensate her for what had happened? Perhaps, and she half-understood it might be more complicated; that her rape while under his command, however distantly, might be more difficult for him to deal with than her death in battle would have been. And it wasn't just embarrassment at a gift beyond her means—she'd accepted gifts as costly from Lady Alanna without knowing who they were from; but this was from Wyldon who … she faced it: who had in a strange way become a second father to her as well as a friend, whose praise meant more to her even than Raoul's and not because it was harder to earn. Impatient with the delay the liver chestnut poked his muzzle over Owen's shoulder and she was lost, but there was another thing she must do.

As Owen stepped aside, smiling, she considered the gelding gravely and stepped forward to let him snuffle at her, then blew gently into his nostrils. He had an irregular blaze and faint list and she wanted to inspect every marvellous inch of him but instead took his reins, told Owen to put the mailsack in her office and settle himself in a guest room, and led him down to the main level, whistling to call Peachblossom, loitering with intent by the infirmary. Exchanging a stare with the newcomer, eyes flicking to her, he walked slowly by the paths to the green, along its west side, and stopped a few feet away.

She kept her voice as crisp as she could. "Peachblossom, this fellow's been given to me. Will you two get along?"

The horses looked at one another and she found Tobe by her side.

"Is he yours, Ma? For what Peachblossom can't do any more?"

"If it works out."

Tobe studied the horse with interest. "It will. What's his name?"

"I don't know."

"Let's find out." Tobe stepped forward to greet the newcomer, resting a hand on his muzzle for a moment afterwards. "I'm not sure he knows it himself. He'd like a name, though."

"What do you think, Tobe?"

"I dunno." He turned to Peachblossom, reaching hands to his neck looking closely at him for a long minute, then back at her. "Peachblossom says he's called Alder, and thinks he'll be alright with training. He says Alder has a good heart and is strong enough for you."

Kel was having a difficult time with emotions rising as they hadn't for a long time, and gave Peachblossom a hard hug, trying to control herself, before fishing apples from her pocket for both horses and showing Alder to a stall by Peachblossom's and Hoshi's. The placid mare seemed happy to greet a new friend, snuffling softly, and with Tobe's help Kel set about grooming Alder thoroughly. Peachblossom stayed, inspecting the liver chestnut himself, and after a while Tobe looked down at her as she ran hands over Alder's fetlocks and cannons.

"Peachblossom says he's smart but hasn't had any of Daine's magic. He thinks he can teach Alder your basic commands but you should ask Daine to make him smarter. Then he could teach Alder what you need in battle and how you like things done."

Kel's emotions were bubbling again, but she nodded before looking her gratitude at Peachblossom.

"It's alright, Ma." Tobe's voice was soft. "He knows you need another horse. He's glad you've got a good one who'll keep you safe."

It was too much and tears filled her eyes but she dared not let them flow; once started she'd never stop. But she did stand to hug Peachblossom's neck again, tightly, letting drops she couldn't stop trickle into his mane. The arrival of Jump, tail wagging, and the flutter of sparrows alighting on Peachblossom let her extricate herself with some shreds of dignity, and she made new introductions to Alder.

It was another hour before she dragged herself out of the stables to find Owen and receive the mail, including the promised purse for which she'd had the smiths make a lockbox bolted to the floor in a corner of her office; Tobe's royal purse was already there. Owen was full of chatter about Happy Two and final training he'd been doing but after ten minutes of breathless and confusing grammar fell silent, turned huge eyes on her, and took a deep breath.

"Kel, I'm terrified of the Ordeal. Suppose it just minces me up? I know I'm not supposed to talk about it but you talked to the Chamber, just like you'd talk to a person. Will I be alright?"

Wyldon's reminder of Owen's Ordeal had left Kel thinking about her need to speak to the elemental—or rather King Jonathan's desire that she should; left to herself she'd be happy never to talk to it again—but she hadn't anticipated this, which she might have. And, she realised, Wyldon had. It was why he'd sent Owen with his astonishing gift rather than coming himself, and it meant he thought she could offer the boy—no, the man—something he couldn't. She got up to close the door and waved Owen to one of the chairs, taking another opposite him.

"Not just like you'd talk to a person, Owen. The Chamber's not a person and doesn't think like one. But it's not evil, just hard as nails and not interested in anything except testing you. You'll be fine. You've a heart the size of a mountain and your wild courage is a byword already."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. My Lord of Cavall's squire who thinks everything's jolly."

He smiled weakly. "It's a good word."

"And you're a good man." She considered. "Have you touched the Chamber door."

He looked down. "Once, on a dare. It was awful."

"Your worst fears played out and you helpless to do anything?"

"Yes." His voice was a whisper. "How did you know?"

"Because that's what it did when I touched the door, and one of the things it does most, so far as I can tell. I've never been sure why, but I think it's about willingness to go on fighting, whatever the odds, whatever happens. You may get more of the same. But it does other things too —I can't discuss it, but things that give you choices, or make you … well, let go of something. I suspect that's what happened to Joren—he couldn't bend, or let go of all that hate he had for me and everyone he disapproved of. But you're good all through, and a first-rate fighter. You'll be a knight by the New Year."

"Thank you, Kel. It means a lot to me that you think so, and that's very helpful about Joren. I've always wondered what really happened to him, why he failed. Died." He swallowed. "And I can't ask my Lord about that. Anyway, he's a stickler for rules, and won't talk about the Chamber except to say it's a hammer but fair and wants people to pass if it can."

That was very Wyldon and Kel sighed. "I wonder about that rule, Owen. There's no rule we can't talk about what happens when we touch the door, but no-one does. I didn't, and I bet you didn't either."

"No. I couldn't."

"I know. But that's shame, isn't it? At being so helpless. And sick rage at whatever nightmare vision it cooks up." She made a decision. "I can tell you some of the ones it dumped on me, if you like."

He stared at her. "You touched the door more than once?"

She nodded, smiling wryly. "Every six months or so. Neal thought I was mad too, but I thought everyone did and just didn't say anything."

"Mithros! Will it help me to know, do you think?"

"I can't say, Owen. Ordeals are … different, or mine was. These were only visions. When you're in the Chamber … well, when you're in it for your Ordeal it's … more powerful. More real."

"I think I'd like to know." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I saw my mother getting killed, and my brother, though I wasn't there when it happened, and I was helpless, as if I was glued to the ground."

"Because your dream of being a knight was bound up with wishing you'd been there to save them."

"Yes."

"That's exactly what it does to test your dream. I saw friends and family die, and was stuck just like that. And crippled once, from some tilting accident. There was also a really strange one after Joren's trial."

He hadn't been at the trial though he'd heard about it, of course, and she repeated Joren's speech of contempt, engraved on her memory, before relaying her vision of the blond squire coldly purchasing or condemning everyone to slaughter. As she spoke the thought that burned in

her mind was that one thing the Chamber had never done was to subject her to rape, or even its threat; only to helplessness in the face of others' deaths, and she wondered if that was because she hadn't then deeply feared rape or for some reason of its own. Maybe she'd ask, but for now Owen needed her attention.

"That's awful, Kel." He shuddered. "Like a slave market."

"Yes. A slave court, I suppose. But at its core it's the same thing as all the others, Owen— nightmares happening right in front of you that you can't stop. But you want to stop them, don't you? Like you want to stop bandits from killing anyone else's mother ever again?"

"Gods, yes. That's exactly what I want."

"So let the Chamber know that, and whatever nightmare fight it shows you don't ever give up, not for a second. If it's not a fight, you'll have to think about what's right to do in whatever situation it is. But trust your heart and instincts and you'll be fine with that, just as you will with the fights."

He nodded, colour returning. "Thanks Kel. That helps a lot. I'd got so I couldn't think about it clearly at all—there was just this dread and a great blank wall I couldn't see through or over or anything."

"I know, Owen. It's what you've worked towards for eight years and it's like walking towards a mountain. It just gets bigger and bigger. But it's still the mountain you could see whole when you started towards it, and it has a summit you can reach if you keep going."

"I can do that."

"Yes, you can. Now come meet Mikal of Holtwood. His Northwatch Company Fourteen marched in yesterday and I abandoned him to Brodhelm and Merric too long ago. Let's find out how far they've got."

Alder proved a pleasure to ride and more than a practical restoration. Kel loved Hoshi for herself and as Raoul's gift, and the mare had been a comfort, strong and uncomplaining even in the vilest weather; but she was smaller than Peachblossom and without the gelding's bracing attitude and ferocity in battle. Alder didn't quite have the attitude—he'd never suffered as Peachblossom had before he met her—but he had the warhorse mind and, whatever Wyldon had taught him as a foal or Peachblossom was telling him now, seemed to understand basic spoken commands; she soon discarded the blunt spurs she'd reluctantly attached to her boots and relied on voice alone.

On a bright, clear day, gold among the lead of winter's early coinage, she commandeered a work party with two squads of archers for security and set up a quintain in the field below the western glacis. Alder snorted eagerly when he saw it, and after three hours of steady, careful, and exhilarating work with the target-dummy, then oak and willow rings, she knew she could confidently meet anyone in the jousting-lanes on his back, as she had on Peachblossom's. He was strong, steady, and responsive, his canter even and gallop rhythmic in the way she loved that enabled her to be absolutely sure how her lance tip would move. On her last run, when the wind dropped for a moment, she managed to pin the willow-ring at a full gallop and whooped triumph as she pulled up and used that hard wrist flick to send it spinning for Jump to catch as it skimmed

over him. Watching men cheered, and in the evening, after her staffwork was seen to be equally good in disarming Company Fourteen's champion, she noticed a new snap in the way Mikal's men regarded her. They'd seemed to like her well enough and plainly respected the way she ran a tight command with—for the most part—a light hand; now they knew for themselves she was a fighter to fear, for all her unusual ways and the strange place she commanded.

That night she gasped upright from the hillside after the worst episode in more than a week, hand again clutching fiercely at her numb breast. Shaken and nauseated, she found herself furious—with herself, her ghastly memories, tauroses, the godshat mage who'd been willing to cloak and steer and watch them as they did what tauroses did; with—she knew it—the gods who hadn't let her die when she should, nor be annealed of her pain in the Peaceful Realms, but had patched her up like stuffing mortar into crumbled brick and sent her straight back to do something they wouldn't or couldn't explain. And who hadn't sent anyone else the tauroses had slain back with her—a guilt rankling like a saddle-burr, though she shuddered to imagine what it would have been like if the women who'd died had been mended as she had, or husbands and guards returned with great grey swathes of chest and stomach.

Dressing warmly she went to the shrines, wandering up and down before them trying to sort her thoughts. The unfeeling flesh she'd been given might have saved her life but seemed a trick, and she didn't think it was Lord Sakuyo's style, nor remotely Lord Mithros's; her gaze rested most often on the Black God's hooded statue, thinking of the illimitable sadness in the young face she'd seen, his special mercy, the cackle in his Hag daughter's voice. Why did the god of death have a daughter anyway, let alone one to all appearances far older than he and as ugly as he was beautiful? It made no sense—but what god did? She tried to bear down on anger and frame a prayer to the Hag, thinking her father's shrine might be a portal to reach her, but the spikes of rage were too great. I see your clumsy hopes and well-meaning unattractiveness and grant you humiliating perdition. Did she have to carry stigmata of her failure to protect those poor Tirrsmonters? If she had to be sent back, couldn't she at least be sent whole?

Peachblossom found her burning holes in the Black God's shrine with her eyes and nudged her, slobbering concern. Chilled and shaking she went with him to get tea from the gatehouse, saying to Jacut on nightwatch only that she couldn't sleep, then filched apples from the box the duty watch kept and took Peachblossom back to the stables. After sharing the apples and stroking all her horses she eventually fell asleep in Peachblossom's stall, head and arms pillowed on a basilisk-warmed block as he stood guard that no more nightmares should pass. Tobe found her at dawn, eyes full of worry and scold, but she woke feeling comforted from a dream of her childhood, full of breathless laughter with Cricket and Yuki about something that faded as her eyes opened. Standing with a groan she ruffled Tobe's hair, promised him she felt better, and sent a prayer of thanks to Lord Gainel with apologies for her mortal inability to understand—withstand —the gods' purposes.

It was her day to deliver cheese, and after a morning going over contingency plans with Brodhelm, probing for weaknesses and noting what would need regular drills while she was away, she saddled Hoshi and rode with Connac's squad to Spidren Wood. Besides making the delivery she invited Quenuresh to a first full meeting of New Hope's council next day: there had been no need yet, but with departure nearing and the new company Kel wanted to be sure all were clear on what mattered. Quenuresh agreed it would be sensible, and turned out to be in a talkative mood, explaining cheerfully when Kel enquired that spidrens weren't bothered by rain or cold and had built themselves a good shelter anyway. If really heavy snow fell she might ask to come into New Hope's cave-system for a bit, for the younglings' sake, but might equally stay put under heavy webbing and blanketing snow with a fire for cheer and cooking rather than warmth.

"We have enough preserved food from you, and smoked game of our own taking, to be fine for a good while, Keladry."

"May I ask how you pass the time?"

"Immortals have a lot of practice at passing time." Quenuresh's voice was bland, her eyes warm. "We talk and groom. The younglings have webwork to practice, and games that are fun. I believe mortals call it cats'-cradles though I have never understood why."

Filled with imaginings of the glory a multi-player spidrens'-cradle might be Kel trotted back up the valley, observing with satisfaction her more prosaic cradles filled with rocks. They did look obvious, though, especially with trees bare, and scrub to screen them would be wise; Adner could advise her what would grow best. A horn-call from the distant gatehouse telling her riders had been sighted brought attention sharply back to the moment and the whole party to a fast canter in tighter formation, but the reply identifying friends came almost at once. As the distance closed Kel saw for herself the horse ridden by a stocky knight just crossing the limestone bridge, a squad behind, and relaxed with an apprehensive pang. That horse she'd know anywhere.

"Kel!" The Lioness wore full mail but only a bascinet and called out cheerfully as the parties converged. "It's good to see you. That's a fine-looking horse."

Kel reined in beside her. "Isn't he? Tobe says he's called Alder."

"Tobe? Oh, the boy you adopted. Well, he should know. Alder, eh? Where d'you get him? Is he one of Cavall's?"

"Yes. Wyldon gave him to me." As purple eyes widened it struck Kel that a gift of Wyldon's had replaced a gift of Alanna's. "I'm so sorry about Peachblossom."

"Goddess, don't apologise, Kel. It's a risk we run. I was just surprised at Cavall—I came through Mastiff last night and he didn't say anything. Decent of him, the old curmudgeon." She grinned at Kel. "But Raoul did tell me, chortling the while, you'd been invited to first-name terms. Astonishing. You have mellowed him. I'd be tempted to make him the same offer just to spook him but we have too much fun Cavalling and Pirate's-Swooping one another and I'm way ahead on that deal."

Alanna's irreverence was bracing and Kel smiled. "He's been a great help, truly. He's asked me to help instruct Owen as well."

"Has he indeed? Now that is a good sign. But let's get in, Kel, and you can show me this amazing place of yours. It's perishing out here."

The Lioness's dislike of cold was as notorious as Raoul's of ceremony and Kel swung in beside her, waving Connac's squad to fall in behind. They paused at the moatbridge, Alanna whistling appreciation when she heard what lurked under the water, then looking up at the glacis and whistling again. Reaching the tauros skulls she scowled ferociously.

"Cavall did mention these. Blasted things."

"Tauroses or stormwings?"

"Both, but I meant tauroses. Goddess, Kel, I was so sorry to—"

"Not here, please." Kel's mask was firmly in place. "I thought I'd hate seeing the skulls but it's not too bad and Jarna, who survived the attack but lost her husband, comes to look at them often. So do the orphans. Did Wyldon tell you their nicknames?"

"He did, though he could hardly bring himself to say 'Pizzle' in my hearing." Her glance

was keen. "I was surprised you'd allowed it."

"I didn't have much choice, any more than with that absurd Protector stuff." They negotiated the turn, Kel waving Alanna ahead at the narrows. "You know about the Honesty Gate?"

"I certainly do and I want one of my own. George is trying to get the griffins who live down from the Swoop to fix one for us but we need Daine to interpret." She pulled up under the lintel, raising a gauntleted hand to Merric, waiting as duty captain with an honour guard hastily assembling behind him. "Sir Alanna of Olau and Pirate's Swoop. I mean no harm to New Hope or any who dwell here. That's it?"

"Yes. Try telling a lie, though."

Alanna's mouth opened, then closed. "Goddess, that works alright. Very useful. And anyone under it can't be fooled by illusions?"

"Not in the least. Numair couldn't cast one that fooled it." "Huh. Illusion's not his strongest talent, though."

"No, but neither could Quenuresh, and it is hers. She can vanish in broad daylight almost to fool a griffin-band but couldn't beat the gate."

"Well, well. Interesting. I want to meet her." "She's coming tomorrow for a Council meeting." "Good."

They cleared the gatehouse and dismounted. Kel let Merric speak formalities, thanked the guard, and asked Merric to deal with billeting.

"Food? Or just a hot drink?"

"Food would be good, once I'm out of this armour."

"Then let's go see the messhall before I show you round."

The Lioness's wonder at the gleaming, warm pillars of the messhall was matched by appreciation of the food the duty cook produced.

"Whoosh! If the Green Lady can do this, she's more powerful than Daine implies.' She cackled. "Has it reconciled Neal to vegetables?"

Kel grinned. "Not yet, but it's definitely making inroads, especially the cabbage. So are Yuki's tsukemono."

"What?"

"Yamani pickles. Neal absent-mindedly ate a whole bowl of onion-rings in sake the other night before he realised what he was doing."

"Wonders will never cease—not here, anyway, by the looks of it." Alanna's face grew serious, though not grave. "You know you've done something amazing here, Kel? Cavall waxed positively lyrical last night about your defences and he wasn't wrong. He's told me about that poltroon Tirrsmont and your petition to the Council as well. I'm inclined to agree with him,

Goddess help me, that you should just claim it as your own fief, but I'll support whatever you want. Raoul too, and Ennor of Frasrlund. I hold his proxy and he was clear he wanted the strongest possible defence in the centre under someone who knows what they're doing, not some pissant second son from the Corus pack."

"Oh. Good." Kel swallowed, loathing politics though she was touched that the Lord of Frasrlund, whom she'd never met, should support her. "I can't just claim it, Alanna. It wouldn't be right. I told Wyldon, it's no time for people to be angling for themselves when we're fighting a war."

"Yes, he said that too." She received a piercing look. "I have to say, Kel, if there's a chance to get it for you I'll be inclined to do that, however you think yourself undeserving. Jon too, I bet."

"It's not about deserving." Even to her own ears Kel's tone was defensive. "These people have had enough of useless overlords. Anak's Eyrie was brave but stupid and his people paid almost as much as he did for it. And Tirrsmont is just vile."

"Useless overlords, surely. I doubt they've had enough of you, Kel."

"They've had all there is." Her voice was bleak and Alanna clapped her on the shoulder.

"I doubt it very much but I know how that feels. Let's find Neal."

The reunion of former squire and knight mistress was warm, and Alanna couldn't resist giving Yuki a healer's once-over, lingering on her yet unswollen belly and nodding satisfaction, but her attention was drawn to the Green Lady's spiral. Weighing it in her hand her eyes went distant, then snapped back.

"This has power from the Goddess as well as the Green Lady. It's boosted a lot. Mmm. The food too, probably—I wondered about that. What was it she said to you when she was leaving, Kel? As exactly as you can—Numair did tell me but precise wording always matters with gods."

Kel thought back. "She kissed my forehead, like a cold burn, Lord Weiryn said 'Sarra', sharply, and she replied … Yes, yes, I break no rule. Keladry, my spiral will give virtue of itself, and if a woman prays to me here I will answer. But it is also of the Great Goddess and will summon her in your need if you call. Remember. I thanked them and they both said I'd 'deserved my blessings'. Then they went silver and vanished."

"And will summon her in your need?Hmm. Have you tried?"

"Tried what?"

Alanna clucked impatiently. "Summoning the Goddess in your need."

"No. Of course not. I can't just—"

"Gah. Why am I not surprised? Neal, any pregnant women except Yuki coming to see you this afternoon?"

"No. One tomorrow morning, for more tea."

"Then I'd like to borrow this, if I may." Alanna weighed the spiral, hesitating. "It's not for me, though. Can you take it to—where'll we be talking, Kel? Your rooms?"

"I suppose so."

"Is there a fire?"

"Of course there is. I don't freeze myself, you know."

"Could have fooled me. Anyway, show me the rest of this magic castle of yours."

Kel gave Alanna the full treatment especially where defences were concerned, starting with gatehouse and fin-gallery. She mentioned the shots she'd managed with Weiryn's gift, drawing a surprised whistle, and Merric's ideas about the distance a mage or siege engine might think safe before concluding with slingwork as part of everyone's training.

"I don't know why all soldiers aren't trained with slings. You can stash one in a pocket, most battlefields have ready ammunition to hand, and even our worst shots are now better with them than with spears."

"Spears are pointy."

"Doesn't matter if a stone's smooth as a lake if it hits with enough force—and they do. The Scanrans we've killed with them … one man had been hit in the face and his skull was caved in. I think even a child with a good arm could take out a tauros and I'm wondering about giants. They're slow, and you can angle a stone up as easily as sending it flat."

Alanna whistled again. "It's an idea, Kel. There's the training to figure—but you've obviously done that. Copy your rosters for practice sessions and do a report. I'll make sure the idea's taken seriously."

"Alright. That sounds good."

"Merric's thinking well, too. That point about mages is good. I don't know about engines. They tried a mangonel at the City of the Gods but a Mithran mage burned it. We've seen nothing worse." Alanna frowned. "You really expect to face a siege?"

"I know it makes no sense, but I can't shake the thought. And that prophecy … Apart from the tauroses, the stormwings—wherever they've been hiding—haven't bothered with any Scanrans we've killed. I can't help thinking they'll only play again over the Greenwoods when they've a feast." Kel brooded, kicking the palisade. "And I know Maggot hasn't used engines but those killing devices came from somewhere."

"Eh? They came from Rathhausak."

"The dead souls did. Blayce's workshop wasn't equipped to produce blades, wire, or

gears."

"Huh. Numair said it was all the work of one mage—Blayce's runes and his … what? smell, I suppose, all the way through."

"Maybe, but I don't think he made scores of cogs and miles of wire himself, nor coated hundreds of giants' long bones and skulls with metal that wasn't wrapped and hammered—it was coated on, like paint."

"Point. Definite point, Kel. Goddess, that's a good question. So where were they made?" "And by whom?"

"Yush. I don't want to think about it now, but that's a point to make forcefully to Jon and the Council."

"I'm more bothered by what someone might be making now. And engines are the least of it. There was skilled designwork in those devices—the blades had tremendous force. It was the domes that were vulnerable. If the dead children had been encased in the midsection, behind thicker metal …"

"Hush, Kel, they weren't and you're giving me indigestion."

They completed the circuit and Alanna looked back round the walls. "Formidable, Kel. Vanget and Cavall told me this is the strongest place between Northwatch and Frasrlund, but it's tougher than Northwatch and more compact than Frasrlund, and neither has the same depth of traps. Your box of mageblast-keys must be enormous."

"It's getting that way. All clearly labelled, though."

Alanna cackled again, drawing glances from sentries very conscious of her presence but staring dutifully out. "So I should hope. No good blowing up your moatbridge if you mean to drop rocks on someone." When they came to the shrines the Lioness's mood sobered. "Neal told me about that Yamani mage nearly wetting himself when he augmented his sight. Nice statues— you've good woodcarvers. And about what he said of you—awash with godlight, eh? Ready to talk, Kel? I get the feeling it's not going to be pretty."

"No." Kel felt reluctance rise. "I know there's no point delaying but let's finish first. There's still the caves and the children will never forgive me if I don't take the Lioness by the barracks to meet them."

"Alright. Whatever you want, Kel. Up to a point."

Hoping she wasn't too flushed she led on to the caves, where there was a cheerful fug Alanna greatly approved of, and the passageway to the lookout, already with a third spiral and most of a fourth. Everyone was impressed to meet the Lioness, and the children, when they reached the barracks, held back with big eyes before swarming eagerly forward. After Alanna had extricated herself, grinning, Irnai and the Scanran refugees got kind, quiet words and the young seer a searching stare; then there was no putting it off longer and Kel led Alanna to her quarters, confusion roiling in her as to what she'd thought she could say. Alanna had no doubts, though, settling herself by the fire and pointing imperiously to the opposite chair.

"Unless you'd rather stand. I hear you prefer reporting that way." "Yes. Probably. Seal the room, would you?"

Eyebrows rose. "That bad? Alright." Purple fire flared along walls and door. "Done." Alanna regarded her with what Kel suspected was compassion and she squirmed inside. "Begin at the beginning, which means the Chamber and these visions it gave you. Never did that to me, thank the Goddess. But it seems to be where you got involved with the gods and that's what matters here, as Neal tells it."

The Chamber Kel could manage and set off through her apparently unusual habit of testing herself against the doors, the addition to her Ordeal, and all that followed. Irnai came into the tale and Alanna sharpened as Kel gave a version of her debrief and its interruptions.

"Then I passed out."

Alanna half-smiled, "Yes, I heard about that from Raoul. And about your wound from

Neal."

"At length, I bet."

"He wasn't happy when I told him off as well as Baird. And I'll tell you off too, Kel—I understand your reasoning better than he does, but it's no good keeping your healer fresh while you're in real pain."

"He was barely recovered from saving three of us at Rathhausak ."

"He says he had enough if you'd said. But it doesn't matter now, Kel, and what you did does. Every one of us owes you an unpayable debt for killing Blayce. I'm so proud of you I can't say."

Kel flushed. Alanna's praise, even more than Wyldon's, was to her fairy gold that might suddenly vanish. "I was just going after my people."

"Not entirely, from what you've been saying. You knew Blayce was behind the raid." "I guessed he was but I didn't know."

"Yes, you did—you just couldn't explain how you knew. Anyway, go on from your report. I need the full story."

Kel was easy enough with building New Hope, but speaking of dedications and godsigns was oddly upsetting and she knew her voice was tenser. Alanna was listening intently but whenever she paused waved her on, and Kel guessed she'd heard this tale already, probably from several mouths. Eventually the story wound to the day of the attack.

"Do you want what I experienced then or what I dream?" "They're different?"

"The tauros knocked me out. It was just pain and confusion. But when I dream it's … vivid. All in focus."

"Then switch to the dream memories when you get there."

The alarm and combat weren't difficult, nor the sudden, appalling pain in her leg, falling with Peachblossom, and the struggle to free herself, but when she got to the tauros leaping over his withers, where her dream usually began its slow, agonising repeat, her voice dried up. Alanna's eyes seemed huge, their strange purple intense.

"I know it's hard, Kel, but Neal right that managing to say it usually helps afterwards. And exactly what happened matters in interpreting whatever it was the Black God said to you."

Kel nodded, swallowing. "It … the tauros, it kicked Peachblossom in the head. So hard. It made its pizzle swing, like a mace. He went still and … my mind, I was just wailing inside. I cut its arm with the glaive but the angle was wrong, I couldn't get any force in the blow and it slammed the glaive away and kicked me. Knocked off my bascinet. That's when it all became a blur but in my dream I feel the second kick and then it throws me a few feet and …" Her voice was very flat as she struggled to say it. "I landed on my back. I still had Griffin but it was trapped under me and I couldn't breathe. The tauros tore off my breastplate and greaves, then my shirt and breeches, and … you know what it did."

"Did it bite as well as rape you? They often do."

"Yes. My breast. Left." She forced out the words. "It bit the end off." Alanna blanched. "I didn't know at the time, only the pain. Great waves of it. Then more, inside me. I knew what was happening in my head somewhere but I didn't understand at the time. In the dream, if it gets that far before I wake up, I can feel it much more clearly. I even feel my maidenhood go before the real pain starts."

"You were a virgin?" Alanna was surprised. "I thought Cleon …"

"No, we never did." Welcoming any other topic Kel got up to put more logs on the fire, poking it so she didn't have to look at Alanna. "We kissed, when we could, and once almost had each other's shirts off before we were interrupted. But apart from that time he never even put a hand on my breasts. Even when I wanted him to." She fed smaller sticks to the blaze, watching it flare. "I thought it was because he was serious about marriage, despite his family, and nobles marry virgins."

Alanna snorted. "Not always they don't."

"Well, it's what I thought. But looking back, I don't think he ever really loved … no, I don't know that, but never really wanted me. Wanted me, the way I wanted him. It was the idea of a lady knight he liked, in a storybook way." Understanding bloomed. "And being with me but never doing anything was a way to save himself for his marriage, as he thought he should, and stop me from, from … I don't know, sullying myself, so his dream stayed pure."

Alanna made a rude noise. "I'm beginning to dislike him a great deal. Selfish young idiot. Still, wasn't there ever anyone else?"

"Not really."

"And you haven't … well, obviously you haven't, though you're free to. Are you romantic or religious about sex?"

"I'm not anything about it. I'd just never done it before."

"You haven't now, Kel. That wasn't sex, and don't ever think it was."

"I know. It doesn't matter anyway. I realised after Cleon had to get married that I'd probably never have a man."

"Eh? What do you mean, Kel, never have a man? Why not? Do you prefer women?" "What? Do I … oh, you mean fujojoufu. No. Not that I know." "Then why do you—"

Kel lost her temper though she managed to control her voice. "Alanna, your nickname is the Lioness—fierce, strong, deadly, yes, but also beautiful. Graceful. My nicknames have been The Cow, The Lump, The Girl, and Mother." She managed a crooked smile. "Now it's Protector of the Small, and I've skipped straight from maiden to crone."

Alanna looked appalled. "But Kel—"

Kel's voice got flatter still. "There have been three men I've ever thought about that way, Alanna, and I've told you about Cleon. The other two never noticed I thought anything of them except as friends, and it was clear as sunlight they both liked a very different sort of woman—with curves and graceful hands and no scars everywhere. I wasn't, what did you say? romantic or religious about being a virgin. It was frustrating and dull, in lots of ways. I was just a realist. Gods

know the only living thing that's ever lusted for me, unless Cleon did, was that tauros. So that's that. It's just one more thing I've lost."

Alanna took a deep breath. "I hear you, Kel, but I don't think it's true in the way you mean and we'll come back to this. But for now please go on. The tauros raped you. Forgive me, but did it spend?"

Kel looked back at the fire. "I think so. I had these little burns on my stomach and thighs, as well as being numb inside." Kel frowned. "Actually I think it spent when I stabbed it."

"You stabbed it? What with? Griffin?"

"Yes. I got it out from under me and just pushed up."

"Good for you."

"Then"—Kel looked up from the fire—"this is guessing, really. My dream never gets this far, but"—she returned her eyes to the flames—"it's strange, but I think when I stabbed it, it spent and pulled out of me at the same time. I suppose that's how I got burns from its seed inside and out. And I don't know if it was the right thing to do, though I wasn't exactly thinking, because its barbs … I died of blood loss, I think. When I was sent back there was blood everywhere."

Alanna 's face was very grim. "Come here a minute, Kel." Reluctantly Kel stood and faced her. "Closer, so I can touch your belly." Purple fire played over Kel's stomach, sinking in, and Alanna's eyes were distant for a few seconds. "Alright. Sit. Look at me." Kel obeyed, feeling resentment fill her. "It did spend. Have you had a monthly since?"

"No. I'm infertile, aren't I?"

"I'm sorry, yes. The gods didn't fix that, apparently. Which … no, tell me what happened after you died—as exactly as you can."

"Oh, there's no problem being exact with that, though I've not told anyone the full story. Quenuresh knows most—I talked to her while she was helping with Peachblossom afterwards."

"Start at the beginning, Kel. You died. Then what?"

Kel told her, letting the words the Black God and Hag had spoken flow from her memory at last. Alanna was speechless for a long moment.

"You saw his face." Her voice was wondering. "I've never heard of anyone doing that. Nor of receiving such forgiveness for sending souls to him. Goddess knows you've paid a high price but I could envy you that."

Kel didn't turn her head. "Quenuresh said he hadn't showed anyone his face for an eon, and the forgiveness thing has happened 'only thrice since the Godwars', whenever they were. So I'm number four."

"And the only one alive, almost certainly. I understand why you haven't told anyone that bit. But the Black God said it was a gift of his own giving, yes? And before that the key things were that Shakith said you couldn't have avoided death, the tauroses were chaos-touched and Mithros and the Goddess wouldn't permit interference by Uusoae, they were busy elsewhere, and his daughter's healing would be only of your life. Goddess, that's odd. Then he showed his face, gave you his blessing, and the Hag showed up with her hyena. What were her words again?"

Still not looking at Alanna, Kel repeated them.

"Sakuyo's a mystery to me but he laughed here and he's obviously watching as closely as any of them. George says the Hag's a trickster too, so I guess that makes sense. His Spearness would be Mithros, I suppose. Huh. Good one. And the last thing she said was that you needed teasing? It doesn't make much sense. Do you know what she meant?"

"Oh yes. I know exactly what that … what she meant." Alanna cocked an eyebrow. "You sound angry with her, Kel."

"Furious. I know I shouldn't be but … oh curse that Hag. I'll just show you. It's easier." She took off tunic and shirt and unwound her breastband, movements jerky with rage. "There. See? Even the tauros's bitemarks are preserved but nothing else. It has no feeling at all."

"Goddess!" Alanna peered at the grey thing that was shaped like but wasn't her breast— blunt and lifeless. "It's numb, you say? May I …?"

"Go ahead. I won't feel anything."

Dubiously Alanna prodded. "It's warm. You don't feel anything?"

"Not directly. If it moves enough to pull the living bit I feel that."

"And is—"

"Yes, the same, where the barbs ripped me. Do you need to see?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Wordlessly Kel stripped off the rest of her clothes. Distantly, behind rage, she thought Alanna might be more embarrassed than she was, but her shame was being drowned in fury. Pulling breeches back on and rewrapping her breastband she found her hands shaking and couldn't tuck in the loose end.

"Let me."

Alanna did it efficiently and Kel found herself spitting words again.

"That's the Hag's tease. Mockery would be a better word. It wasn't enough not to let me die or to send me back alone."

"Alone?"

"The tauroses killed nine people, not counting me. Did they somehow get magically not chaos-touched when they were killing Wallan and Pevis and Crener and those poor farmers, or raping the other women? My death's forbidden for some reason but not theirs. That's why I didn't say anything about being dead. I was ashamed. I am ashamed. I can hardly look Jarna in the eye."

"Goddess, Kel—"

"It's not even punishment. If I'd done something to warrant that I'd understand. But I haven't, that I know. And I think the Black God's grace was a kind of compensation for what he knew his daughter would do. But he didn't stop her."

"Kel, I don't believe the Goddess intended this at all. It's not like anything I've ever heard

of."

"Yes, she did. The night before I …" Embarrassment suddenly returned. "I was … in bed, I was … I touched myself thinking about D— … about a man I … imagined I wanted and it was lonely and … and honourless and I thought maybe I should just have done, and dedicate my virginity as a warrior, a Lady Knight, to the goddess, like those fighting priestesses in Sarain." Kel could hear bitterness crowding her voice and couldn't stop it. "Daine told me to be careful what I prayed for but it wasn't a prayer, only a thought. I was mocking myself, my own stupid needs and wanting someone who doesn't notice me because no-one wants a cow with a body like a tree-trunk. But they heard me in all my stupidity and shame and they mocked me for real." Her voice was rising and she couldn't control it. "I was thinking I should put the energy into service, not mooning about, and I would have, but no, I can't be trusted to do that even when I'm already so plain I'm of no interest to any man, I have to be made a horror to myself too."

Her face was wet, mortification and rage seamlessly one.

"All I ever wanted was to be a knight so I could help people, and just for that all those people insulted and mocked me, the Girl, the Probationer, the Lump. Joren and Vinson and Garvey and Quinden and all those boys, jeering and tricking and spitting, and now the gods have done it too and I can't stand it. They want me to do something and it needs this? It's …it's …"

Whooping for breath, aching with rage, she ran out of words and truth as a shaking Alanna grabbed and held her, silently, until she'd stilled, then guided her to her chair. In some part of her mind Kel noted she was again dealing with her high command stripped to her breastband and wondered if she'd ever find anything funny again, with self-mockery such a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Kel, Goddess knows I can understand why you'd think all that, and I'm sorry I didn't realise how isolated you've been. Well, I did, but thanks to Cavall and that blasted probation nonsense there wasn't anything I could do. But you're wrong about the Goddess, I swear. She'd never intend this, or do this."

"She already did."

"No she didn't, the Hag did. Now, listen. The Black God said his daughter's healing was only of your life—and I don't think she can do any more than that. She's the only god who can raise the dead—it's the power she lent Daine in Carthak that got us Bonedancer—and I suspect she was needed here, for you, because of it. But he didn't say anything about any other god's healing, and when the Green Lady gave you that warning about calling on the Goddess in need, I'm betting she knew this death was waiting for you, and knew what would happen, and wanted you to call on the Goddess to heal you properly. Only you haven't because you thought you were meant to stay like this. We can fix that right now."

Kel blinked tears, trying to process what Alanna was saying. "Fix what? How?"

"Fix you, by calling on her, of course. She usually listens to me and we've got that spiral."

"No." Kel's reaction was panic-stricken. "I can't face the Goddess."

"Why ever not?"

"I … I …" Truth broke through again, the thing all her anger had done its best to hide though it never really hid anything and tears rolled again down her face. "I'm too ashamed. I failed her, failed myself and those poor women. But I've been given another chance to do what I most want, to defend them all against whatever it is that's going to happen, sent back by the Black God himself with such sadness and kindness in his eyes. I can't demand more."

"Kel, that's nonsense. You didn't fail anyone."

"Yes I did, Alanna. They're dead and I should be. Protector of the Small? I couldn't even protect myself."

"Horsebuns. We need the Goddess right now. Where's that spiral?"

Ignoring Kel's protests Alanna rose and fetched it, then to Kel's distant shock grinned. "You might want to put your shirt on first."

Shaking, Kel did so, wondering if she could stand another god but knowing she couldn't stop Alanna and finding some part of her wondering if the Lioness was right, the grey lines in her flesh just a stopgap, not a judgement. But there was no time—Alanna didn't use much ritual, just held the spiral, took a few dried leaves from her belt pouch and threw them into the fire, and closed her eyes, concentrating. For a moment nothing happened, then a glow filled the room, brightening swiftly to silver and vanished leaving a tall woman in a long dress standing beside Alanna. Kel stared as her stomach churned. I am a lake, I am calm, I am a lake. The mantra didn't have much effect but the Goddess was looking at Alanna, not at her.

"My daughter. You did well to call me." The voice pierced like a blade, with that same belling of hounds running through it, and the face turned to Kel, as remote and serene as it was impossibly close, eyes a gateway to stars. "And you have done well also, my daughter. This suffering was no part of our intent."

Kel felt like a little girl again, at her mother's knee, though the goddess was no taller than she was herself. She hung her head, voice a whisper. "I'm so sorry I failed you."

"You did not fail me, daughter, though you have not served yourself so well. Look at me." The command could not be refused and those eyes swallowed her. "Come now and be healed."

The goddess held out her arms and Kel tottered into them, dissolving. Alanna found herself looking away from the anguished noise, tears in her eyes, but mercifully the sound faded in that divine embrace as silver cloaked Kel from head to foot. When Alanna turned back the Goddess was looking at her, face filled with sorrow and something else.

"I have been in distant lands and she did not call on me. But I shall have words for the Hag. You were right that her power was needed but she chose this manner."

Alanna took a deep breath, thinking bitterly that her restoration in Carthak after Ozorne's fall didn't seem to have improved the Hag's manners or temperament. "What is it you need Kel to do, my Lady? Or was it just Uusoae's interference?"

"Both. But I cannot speak of the future even to you, daughter. The balance is undecided and much may rest on her. She has chosen well so far, and we would not let remnants of Chaos prevent her."

"Kel was … very distressed about the others who were killed."

"They are at ease in the Peaceful Realms. Even for this my brother would not have let her return from the death of her body were it not for what Shakith has seen. But having allowed her return he does not grudge her wholeness. I will heal her in her womanhood but I cannot heal her mind, and the damage she has suffered in coming so far is grievous."

"I realise, my Lady. It's not just the rape."

"No, though few deaths are worse. It is the hatred she has faced for long, and her reaction

to the visions the elemental sent to guide her to the necromancer. The lives she saved seem to her less than the lives she could not. Tell her when she wakes that my brother gives special care to the children the necromancer killed. They play in peace and are annealed of pain and sorrow. And she is free to speak of all she knows."

Surprised, Alanna thought furiously. "Of being sent back, my Lady?"

"All."

"I'll tell her, but I doubt she'll want to. Few would believe her."

"She may have need and we will attest it, if she calls us. Tell her."

"I will, my Lady."

The silver faded. "It is done. She will wake at dawn."

Hastily Alanna stepped forward to take Kel as the goddess released her, sliding an arm around her. A hand rested momently on her head.

"You have my blessing too, my daughter, as you have always done."

Power swirled and Alanna was alone with Kel's considerable weight resting on her. With a grunt she lifted Kel to her shoulder and made for what must be the bedroom door, blessing military consistency when it was. After laying her on the bed she pulled off boots, set them down, and muttering curses at the Hag managed the rest of Kel's clothes, thought about a nightshirt, then just manoeuvred her into bed. The flesh she saw for the second time was pink and healthy, breast restored and womanhood unmarked. Alanna smoothed her hair affectionately.

"Little idiot. Big idiot, actually. The Goddess isn't like that at all." She straightened groaning, hands in the small of her back. "How could you think it?"

But she knew: she hadn't faced such hatred until she was a knight, she'd always had her Gift and since she'd been a squire the Goddess, and Faithful, and she'd found her body's grace with Jonathan knowing George was waiting. In those terms Kel had had nothing and Alanna marvelled anew, as when she'd heard about Lalasa Isran's kidnapping and what Kel had done, and when she'd seen Kel joust and realised how good she was. She'd felt it again this summer when Jon contacted told her Kel was back and confirmed Blayce's death and the rescue of all— count 'em, all—the kidnapped children, all but a dozen adults, and all surviving liegers of King Maggot himself; whose clanhome, Jon added with grim satisfaction, had been burnt. And now this —gods all over doing things they hadn't done for millennia and Kel working wonders while believing herself as mocked by gods as she had been by so many fellow Tortallans.

"You're still an idiot, but Goddess, you're amazing." Stooping Alanna kissed Kel's brow and went back to the study, adding logs to the fire and putting up the guard before recalling her magic from walls and door and heading out to find some of that excellent food and do some reassuring. As she closed the outer door behind her the next along opened and Tobe's head stuck out, followed by Neal's above and Jump's below, a sparrow perched between his ears. Alanna shook her head.

"She'll be fine. The goddess has healed her properly and she's sleeping. Tobe, go keep her company, and take Jump and Nari, is it? Keep an eye on the fire too. Oh, and I couldn't get her into a nightshirt so mind how you hug her. Neal, I'm not saying a thing—it's up to Kel what she chooses to tell anyone, but I promise you she's better now than the last two gods she met left her."

"The last two … Mithros."

"No, he's one she hasn't met yet. Something to look forward to. Now, take me to food, quickly. I want to try these whatchamacallums, pickles that Yuki makes. Chop chop."

Wisely, Neal chopped.

It was exactly dawn when Kel opened her eyes to find Alanna sitting on the end of her bed, drinking a mug of tea and offering another.

"She said you'd wake at dawn. The gods' sense of time isn't always so precise but I thought it might be this time. Here. Door's shut and Tobe's asleep, finally, so you can sit up. How much do you remember?"

"Everything, I think." Slowly Kel sat up, sheet and blanket falling away. She looked at her healthy breast and cupped it, rejoicing in sensation. "Is my …"

"Yes, the rest of you's fixed as well. Do you want this tea? It's proper stuff, not a healer's

brew."

"Please." She was very thirsty, hungry too; healings did that and she'd missed dinner. "Thank you, that's good. And thank you for—"

"You don't have to thank me, Kel. You were owed. Are owed. Now, if you're properly awake, listen a minute. With your Council meeting at mid-morning we don't have a lot of time but there's a few things that need saying, starting with the fact that you're an idiot. I called you one several times last night while I was putting you to bed. I am beginning to understand just how bad a time you've had, and I do understand how it felt like mockery, as if the gods had done what Joren did, the same way the tauros echoed that rapist Genlith."

Kel hadn't thought of that at all and blinked surprise.

"You were dealing with the Hag and she can be plain mean, though you'd no reason to know. But even so you shouldn't have thought the Goddess had done that. All gods are baffling, I know, but few do things like that. And you let it stay that way when if you'd called on the Goddess—which the Lady told you to do—you'd have been fixed quicker."

"Maybe so—"

"No maybes about it, Kel. And if you'd told me what was afflicting you, even hinted, I'd have told you there and then to use that spiral and call the Goddess." Alanna wagged a finger. "It's not talking to the healer, again. I have more sympathy for Neal about your shoulder than I did yesterday. It's also what you did when you reported to Jon expecting him to send you off to Traitor's Hill for having disobeyed Cavall's idiot order, hmm? Thinking you deserve to be punished when the opposite is true? Well, stop it. Natural modesty served you well as a page and squire, very well, but as a commander we need you beating up Scanrans, not yourself. Not that you don't beat up Scanrans too."

Given that she was sitting topless in bed, and bottomless too from the feel of it—the feel of it—Kel wasn't so sure about modesty, natural or otherwise, but did hear what Alanna was saying; then again, she'd heard Wyldon to the same effect as well. All she really wanted to do was inspect

herself and absorb being whole, but Alanna wasn't done.

"Now, a couple of other things. The Goddess said she'd healed you in your womanhood, so expect monthlies to start again and get an anti-pregnancy charm." Alanna held up a hand. "Don't tell me you're unlikely to need one. It's your body and your decision but all that stuff you were saying about being ugly just isn't true, Kel. You just haven't met the right person, and I doubt you've been trying. But there's something else as well, because just as all the insults made you feel ugly, and Goddess knows I understand how that works, the adulation you'll get in Corus will make you feel very differently about yourself. Or it should."

"Adulation? Alanna, why in the mortal realms should I—"

Alanna sighed. "Kel, your report was published, remember—and that doesn't mean copied by a clerk for the files. It was read out in the main square and when we ride into Corus there's going to be a young riot. Jon wanted an official welcome but I managed to head him off. Can't do that to the people, though."

Appalled, Kel hunched into her pillows. "I don't want adulation."

"Tough. Shouldn't be a heroine then—comes with the job. Anyway, everyone knows about Rathhausak and the killing devices. Jon put one on show as soon as he was sure Blayce was dead." Kel shuddered. "It was a good move. And it's gone now, I'm assured. But they don't know about your dying and being sent back." Again she held up a hand. "Hear me out. I'm not saying you should or shouldn't tell whoever, and I won't tell anyone before you do, even George or Jon. But I am saying it's your decision if and whom you do. The Goddess said Tell her also that she is free to speak of all she knows. I said I didn't think you'd want to and people wouldn't believe you, but she said She may have need and we will attest it, if she calls on us. So— if you need at some point to say what happened, and anyone scoffs, swear by her and make the circle."

Wide-eyed, Kel nodded. "Alright. I can't imagine why I'd want to tell anyone but I'll remember."

"See you do. For the Goddess to mention it there must be a future where you'll need to, for some reason. Who knows?"

Kel mulled it over. "You said she said 'Tell her also …'. Also what?"

Alanna's face softened. "Pure comfort. The children Blayce killed have special treatment from the Black God. They play in peace, and are annealed of their pain and sorrow , she said. And the others the tauroses killed. The Black God was only willing to let you return because of what Shakith has seen, Uusoae's influence or no, but the others have been comforted. I thought you'd want to let the orphans know, and Jarna. Best do it today. I don't like the look of the weather and we'll need to be gone tomorrow."

Too grateful to speak Kel nodded and Alanna rose. "Go wash. I'm going to sleep, but have me woken in good time for the meeting please."

"Of course. Were you up all night? I'm sor—"

"Do stop apologising, Kel. And I wasn't. You were sleeping and I left you to it. Tobe kept the fire going, bless him, until I sent him to bed a candle-mark ago. But I was up late with Neal and Yuki—having had to miss their wedding thanks to Maggot we had catching up to do. I didn't say anything except the Goddess healed you properly; what you tell them's up to you. Now I'm going, and you need to be."

Left with a sense of bobbing in Alanna's wake like a cork Kel was able at last to examine and find herself whole. Washing, the simple pleasure of responsive flesh brought tears and she let them flow, but the morning was too good, much too good, to spend snivelling. Dressed and feeling wonderful, if bemused, she looked in on a sleeping Tobe, collected Jump and Nari, and went to find people to give good news. Most at New Hope rose at dawn and neither the orphaned children or Jarna were exceptions. Though the sun was shining the fort remained in the fin's shadow and the air had a bite, but telling them to dress warm and swinging her arms in a brisk routine while she waited, she led them to the shrines and quietly told them of the Goddess's reassurances. The tears were collective, with prayers of thanks to the Black God, and when they'd run their course Kel scooted them all off to breakfast.

Ravenous, she piled her tray with extra bacon and went to sit with Neal and Yuki, tucking in. Both eyed her curiously.

"You seem better. The Goddess came, Alanna said?"

"She did. I am. Never better." Kel applied herself to eating as they exchanged glances, then relented. "I expect I'll tell you sometime, but not now. It's too good to be whole again, and I have to prepare for the meeting as I didn't get anything done last night."

"It sounds like you got a great deal done, Kel." Yuki smiled, relief in her eyes. "Just not for the meeting."

Kel cleaned her plate. "I suppose. I wasn't really doing anything, though. Just talking and being healed."

"Exhausting activities both." Neal's irony was a refuge, his voice light. "It is good to see you less troubled, Kel."

"It's good to be so." She reached to squeeze their hands, then stood and on impulse leaned and kissed them both, Neal on the forehead and Yuki on the cheek. "Thank you both, for everything. You're better friends than I deserve. I must go. See you both at the meeting."

Pleased to leave someone else looking as bemused as she felt she bounced to the stables, woke Peachblossom by kissing his muzzle, and spent twenty minutes apologising to her horses for having been moody and spreading cheer with apples. That done she went to headquarters, goosed clerks with warm greetings, and retired to her office to sort out what she wanted from the meeting. There wasn't much, mostly to make sure everyone knew what should happen in her absence, but with her mind spinning she did think of a few points to mention and soon had a neatly written agenda. She fitted in a check with the gatehouse and a quick round before getting mugs of tea from the messhall and going to wake Alanna with a return favour as a downpayment of gratitude.

The meeting was both extraordinary and without event. All but Alanna knew one another well by now but were self-consciously pleased to inaugurate New Hope's Council; then again, there were ten people, three of them women, a basilisk, an ogre, and a very large spidren more or less sitting round a table. Alanna had been distinctly pale when first introduced to Quenuresh at the gatehouse, but the spidren mage's respectful enquiry about the divine disturbance the previous evening, followed by a warm greeting to Kel and a deal of magely talk, had left Lioness and immortal more interested in one another than wary.

The routine issues of Brodhelm's command with Mikal as second, with what he might and might not ask of immortals, and work priorities until winter harvest were all briskly sorted— practice sessions, especially with bows and slings; the gallery and lookout post; children's education and care; cross-training for adults. Then they turned to contingencies for attacks or emergencies and the only sharp moment came when Merric leaned back and gestured at the

window.

"Surely, Kel, but unless my nose is all wrong snow will be here tonight or tomorrow, and everything'll seize up until the thaw."

"Never think it, Merric." Kel's voice was hard and Merric sat straighter. "Tell me, what would you do if you wanted to attack New Hope, and had reports of an unscaleable glacis?"

"I'm not sure, Kel. I'd hate to have to assault this place." "Think again."

There was a pause before Brodhelm spoke. "Treason. Gates fall to treachery way more often than assault."

"Exactly." Kel looked Merric in the eye, then ran round everyone. "Don't relax because it snows. Merric, it's Midwinter Eve, nightwatch, snowing like crazy, and a party of obviously poor Scanrans shows up. They're freezing and there are children, at least one evidently injured.

'Please.' they say, 'we ask for refuge. We've fled Maggot's cruel oppression. Let us in.' What do you do?"

Merric looked at her. "Stay suspicious, obviously."

"Right. No-one, no-one you don't know personally comes in without the full gate routine, and if you do know them but they've never been here before you do the routine anyway. All of it, every time. The slightest hesitation or doubt—anything at all—and you treble the questions. Think about what's appropriate—not just 'do you mean harm?' but where were you born, where have you come from, are you loyal to Maggur, are you under orders, have you come because anyone asked you to, or told you to, do you have any mission here? The works."

"Kel, half those are the same thing." Merric frowned. "If someone isn't loyal to Maggur they wouldn't be coming here on a mission for him."

"Not true, Sir Merric," Zerhalm was blunt, Scanran accent thick. "Maggur Reidarsson deals in hostages and terror. It is well within his cunning to hold a wife or child and send the husband here. Or to hold husband and wife and send the child."

"Just so." Kel looked round. "If any Scanrans show up send for Zerhalm at once—he can question them in ways we can't. Similarly, if Tortallan commoners show up send for Fanche and Saefas, or if immortals show up—which I'm really not expecting but that's when it happens— send for our residents."

"And what do we do if someone is suspicious?"

"Good question. If they're armed, fight. If it's civilians or military wounded, well, I've been thinking. We don't have a secure cell because we've never needed one, but that can change. Var'istaan, Kuriaju, can you carve out a small chamber, no larger than it need be, with exactly one door? Thank you. Brodhelm, the smiths can see to that door. I want new locks for the gates, too— those up-and-down ones as well as crossbars."

"Good idea." Brodhelm made a note.

"If anyone is really problematical ask Quenuresh to wrap them up tighter than any fly and spoonfeed them. She can call the griffins if there's any uncertainty about anyone lying." Kel checked her agenda. "Brodhelm, Mikal, Merric, Uinse, when it snows be sure Peachblossom's loose and double your inspections of the duty watch—there's nothing like long cold winter nights

to make sentries silly. Keep the roadway clear as far as the moatbridge too—it's no good having a killing field if you can't see your traps. And one more thing." She leaned back herself. "Uinse, what would you do if you wanted to weaken us as much as you could?"

The former convict thought deeply. "Anything I could. Armies can't move in snow, but small bands can. I'd scout all I could while I thought we were dozing, salt winter crops, trigger rockfalls if I knew about them, and take killing shots from deep cover at anyone who came out."

"So would I." Kel looked in turn at Brodhelm, Mikal, and Merric, the last her real worry; knight or no, even after Haven Merric didn't quite believe the worst could occur, regardless of precautions and weather. He'd never died of it. "Don't think it might happen—assume it will, every day, every night. Check fields regularly for tracks. Quenuresh, could you ask the griffins to keep careful watch also whenever they fly? If it's moving on two legs Brodhelm needs to know. I'll ask the centaurs, and the sparrows can patrol as well. Oh, and the griffins and centaurs are welcome to food or shelter if they want it."

Quenuresh smiled widely. "I doubt either will but they'll be pleased you think to offer."

"As they will. What matters is that everyone is vigilant, always. I don't expect an army but I do expect something, some try for advantage or a killing. And please be careful yourselves. Everyone here is a prime target for anyone who wants to weaken us."

Zerhalm leaned forward. "You also, Lady Kel. An agent of Maggur's need not come to New Hope to weaken us if you are in Corus."

"True. I doubt he's thinking quite that way, but I shall be taking care, every day, I promise."

The meeting broke up, various participants seeking more personal discussions, and after lunch Kel, Brodhelm, and a shivering Alanna rode out with two squads to find the centaurs. Besides visits to trade and occasional sight of them with their horses in the southern valley Kel had seen little of the immortals, but when she blew the civil summons Whitelist and his mates soon trotted out of the woods. Presenting stone bowls and smoked meat Kel made introductions and requests, and after some polite, mutually satisfactory exchanges everyone trotted away again satisfied. By the time they were back at New Hope the bitter cold had vanished as even grey cloud began to set in.

"We'll be riding in snow tomorrow, Kel." Alanna shivered despite the rise in temperature. "How many are we?"

Kel counted in her head. Seaver, Neal, and Yuki wouldn't be there, but besides Alanna there would be herself with Tobe, who had never seen Corus and preferred the idea of Midwinter celebrations at court to whatever New Hope did; Irnai, whose presence had been requested; and three men from Brodhelm's and Uinse's companies whom she'd granted leave to attend memorials and a wedding. Jump and the sparrows would keep Peachblossom and Hoshi company.

"Seven, two children. Plus two squads as far as Bearsford."

"We'd best be off at the crack then, if we'll have twenty-nine to find rooms for in Bearsford. Even for you I'm not camping in snow—and the Drunken Carter does excellent hotpot. The innkeep was an army bowyer before he retired to marry the last one's daughter."

Laughing, Kel followed her childhood heroine and friend to the messhall.