“The governors pick after you?”
She nodded. “The whole Council goes after us. The Komizar makes sure of that. My bapa will be happy for my pick. The quarterlords, they love rings. This might fetch us a whole sack of grain, and bapa can stretch a sack for a month.”
I listened to the way she talked of the Komizar, more like a benefactor than a tyrant. “You said always. Are there many carts brought into the Sanctum?”
“No,” she said. “Used to be just goods from the trading caravans every few months, but now there’s war bounty. We’ve had six loads this month, but this was the biggest one. The others were only three or four barrowfuls.”
War bounty. The patrols were being slaughtered. Small companies of men were riding to their deaths with no idea that the game had changed. They weren’t chasing a few barbarians back behind borders any longer. They were being stalked by organized brigades. For what? Rings to give to servants? No, there was something else to it. Something important enough to send an assassin to kill me.
“Did I say something wrong, Miz?”
I looked back at Aster, still feeling dazed. She bit her lip, intent on my answer.
A sudden voice startled us. “The door’s wide open. How long does it take to drop off one pair of boots?”
Neither of us had heard Kaden approaching. He stood in the doorway looking sternly at Aster.
“Not long,” she gasped. “I just got here. Truly I did. I wasn’t prattling.” She squeezed past him, worried as a mouse with a cat on her tail, and we heard the echo of her footsteps running down the hall. Kaden smiled.
“You frightened her. Did you have to be so stern?” I asked.
His eyebrows rose, and he looked down at my hand. “I’m not the one holding a sword.”
He closed the door behind him and walked across the room, setting a flask and basket down on one of the trunks. “I brought you some food so you don’t have to dine in the hall. Eat and get dressed, and we’ll go. The Komizar’s expecting us.”
“Get dressed? In what?”
He looked at the sack dress balled up on the floor.
“No,” I said. “I’ll wear the shirt I have on and a pair of your trousers.”
“I’ll talk to him, Lia, I promise, but for now just do what I—”
“He said I had to earn luxuries like clothes, but he didn’t say how. I’ll fight you for them.” I waved the sword in circles at the floor, taunting him.
He shook his head. “No, Lia. That isn’t a toy. You’d only end up getting hurt. Put it away.” He spoke to me like I was Aster, a child who had no understanding of consequences. No, worse, like a royal who hadn’t a grasp of anything. His tone was superior and dismissive and more Vendan than ever. Heat bristled at my temples.
“I’ve swung a stick before,” I said. “What else is there to know?” I pursed my lips and looked at the sword with wide-eyed wonderment. “And this is the hilt, right?” I asked, touching the cross wood. “I played with these with my brothers when I was a child.” I looked back at him, my jaw set. “Afraid?”
He grinned. “I warned you.” He reached for the other sword leaning against the wall, and I lunged, whacking his
shin.
“What are you doing?” he yelled, grimacing. He hopped on one leg while he clutched the injured one. “We haven’t started yet!”
“Yes, we have! You started this months ago!” I said and swung again, hitting the same leg from the side. He seized the other sword and held it out to defend himself, hobbling in obvious pain. “You can’t just—”
“Let me explain something to you, Kaden!” I said, circling around him. He limped around, trying to keep me in sight. “If this were a real sword, you’d already be bleeding out. You’d be faint, if you could stand at all, because my second strike would have cut your calf muscles and tendons and opened vital veins. All I’d have to do is keep you moving, and your heart would do the rest, pumping your blood out until you collapsed, which would be right about now.”
He winced, holding his shin and at the same time keeping his sword ready to block other lunges. “Dammit, Lia!”
“You see, Kaden, maybe I lied. Maybe I wasn’t just a child when I used one of these last, and maybe it wasn’t play. Maybe my brothers taught me to fight dirty, to gain the advantage. Maybe they taught me to understand my weaknesses and strengths. I know I may not have the reach or the sheer power of someone like you, but I can easily beat you in other ways. And it seems I already have.”
“Not yet.” He lunged forward, advancing with rapid strikes that I managed to block until he backed me up against the wall. He grabbed my arm that held the sword and pinned it, then leaned against me, short of breath. “And now I have the advantage.” He looked down at me, his breaths coming slower and deeper.
“No,” I said. “You’ve bled out by now. You’re already dead.”
His eyes grazed my face, my lips, his breath hot on my cheek. “Not quite,” he whispered.