Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)

“Gracious Melqart, Vai. How much time do you spend on your grooming? Wouldn’t you rather come back in bed with me?”

He met my gaze in the mirror. “Of course I would, love. But I’m meeting Viridor and the lads for breakfast. They’re going to show me the schoolroom—”

“The schoolroom?” Dumbstruck, I contemplated a new side to his character.

“They lost most of their older mages in an epidemic of cholera ten years ago. They’ve had to rebuild their schoolroom without the teachers. I told them I would outline the lesson plans used at Four Moons House so they can institute a rigorous curriculum.”

“I thought the secret belongs to those who remain silent.”

“The mansa always says that every mage, no matter how young or old or how he came to Four Moons House, must be educated in mage craft. To instruct every mage helps all mages regardless of what House they belong to. Anyway, if we mean to speak of freedom as if we believe it is a right for our communities to claim, then we must mean it for all communities, not just our own. The children here deserve the same education I received, don’t you think?”

With a startled frown he paused to examine his face in the mirror, as if he had just discovered an impertinent flaw. He slid the comb into his beard and trimmed hairs by shaving the razor along the comb.

A plain linen dressing robe lay folded by the bed. After slipping it on I padded over to stand behind him. The floorboards breathed a comforting heat. I felt truly relaxed for the first time since the morning he and I had woken up on the bed he had built for us, after the night we had consummated our marriage. How I missed that bed!

I traced the angled scar on his back. “How did you get this?”

His hands tightened as he caught in a breath. After a moment he blew away the hairs on the razor with an exhalation. “In the youth hall at Four Moons House.”

“Bad enough they were allowed to taunt and bully you with words. They were allowed to actually beat you and harm you? This looks like a knife cut! No one put a stop to it?”

His frown sharpened to an arrogant sneer as he fastidiously wiped off the shaving kit and packed it away into a tiny wooden box in which each tool fit exactly. “I was the village boy, remember? Did Magister Vinda really think I was here on a Grand Tour? Viridor said nothing about it.”

In the face of this uncomfortable shift of mood, it seemed wise to calm him. “Vinda is a diviner and can tell perfectly well how powerful a cold mage you are. She can’t have known you would see it as an insult. To her it would seem a compliment. There was a time you didn’t refuse.”

“Because I was young and ignorant. I boasted about how women offered themselves to me. For the longest time I thought I was so irresistible that women would travel to Four Moons House for a chance at my bed. What a fool I looked to everyone! How they laughed and mocked me.”

“Yes, and that’s all in the past now, love. White Bow House has been very hospitable. It’s not fair to be angry at them.” I fetched his shirt and jacket, thinking that clothes would distract him.

His frown faded as he pulled on his shirt. “I’m not angry at them. Viridor has been more than generous. He’d like to have us stay as guests for as long as we wish. I know you want to get to Havery as soon as possible, love, but I do think it wise for us to recover from our arduous journey before we go on. Just a week or two.”

“Yes, of course we must stay. We need to find a tailor’s shop.”

“That’s already arranged.” He buttoned up his much-abused jacket. “After breakfast and the schoolroom, Viridor and the lads and I will be going down to Cutters Row. That’s what they call the tailors’ district here. Viridor offered to see that I have decent clothes to wear.”

I managed not to burst out laughing. “That’s exceedingly generous, especially since he can have no conception of what you mean by ‘decent.’ But I meant that we need to find a particular tailor’s shop, one that’s opposite a troll-owned shop called Queedle and Clutch.” I explained about Bee’s dream.“I’m hoping it might be her I’m meant to meet. Just as she dreamed she and I would meet at Nance’s that night in Expedition after the areito.”

He smiled as if our fierce misunderstanding at Nance’s had attained the glamour of a fond memory, for he was the sort of person for whom an unconditional triumph quite eradicates any troubling defeats. “Well then, my sweet Catherine, I shall insist we patronize whichever tailor shop sits opposite Queedle and Clutch. Come here. I don’t have to leave quite yet.”

White Bow House’s hospitality could not be faulted. With plenty of food and a comfortable bed we regained our strength quickly. The hypocaust system built under the well-appointed house made it easy to weather a short but ferocious cold snap that would have killed us had we been caught out on the road.

o;The schoolroom?” Dumbstruck, I contemplated a new side to his character.

“They lost most of their older mages in an epidemic of cholera ten years ago. They’ve had to rebuild their schoolroom without the teachers. I told them I would outline the lesson plans used at Four Moons House so they can institute a rigorous curriculum.”

“I thought the secret belongs to those who remain silent.”

“The mansa always says that every mage, no matter how young or old or how he came to Four Moons House, must be educated in mage craft. To instruct every mage helps all mages regardless of what House they belong to. Anyway, if we mean to speak of freedom as if we believe it is a right for our communities to claim, then we must mean it for all communities, not just our own. The children here deserve the same education I received, don’t you think?”

With a startled frown he paused to examine his face in the mirror, as if he had just discovered an impertinent flaw. He slid the comb into his beard and trimmed hairs by shaving the razor along the comb.

A plain linen dressing robe lay folded by the bed. After slipping it on I padded over to stand behind him. The floorboards breathed a comforting heat. I felt truly relaxed for the first time since the morning he and I had woken up on the bed he had built for us, after the night we had consummated our marriage. How I missed that bed!

I traced the angled scar on his back. “How did you get this?”

His hands tightened as he caught in a breath. After a moment he blew away the hairs on the razor with an exhalation. “In the youth hall at Four Moons House.”

“Bad enough they were allowed to taunt and bully you with words. They were allowed to actually beat you and harm you? This looks like a knife cut! No one put a stop to it?”