Elaine Cunningham - Honor Among Thieves

This, Honor had not expected. She took a moment toput her thoughts in order.

“Rhendish said you were pursuing a band of Gatherers.Why?”

The captain blinked. “Those were my orders.”

Honor turned to Rhendish.

“These men had sold several elven artifacts to peoplein Sevrin who collect curiosities. I have purchased one or two fromthem, myself,” Rhendish said. “But over time, the sheer number ofitems they collected suggested a more, shall we say, active means of acquisition?”

“You thought they might be raiding elvenvillages.”

“It seemed a possibility worth investigating,”Rhendish said.

“Why do you care? Would too many elven handiworksweaken your claim that the Old Races and their magic are gone?”

“It might,” the adept said coolly. “Especially if theelves marched in force to retrieve these items and seek reprisalsfor the raids.”

The unexpected candor of this remark brought a wrysmile to Honor’s face. Rhendish did not want trouble with theelves. If she learned nothing else from this odd meeting, that wasinformation worth knowing.

She turned back to the captain.

“Did you speak to my sister?”

The big man hesitated. “As to that, I can give noguarantee. The elf said she was your sister.”

“She looked like me?”

“She might have, at one time. You were both badlywounded. Under the circumstances, a resemblance would be difficultto determine.”

“Describe her.”

The man’s gaze grew unfocused as it shifted to thecontemplation of memory. “White hair, streaked with brown and graylike the bark of a birch tree. Pale skin. Light eyes. She was aboutyour size. If she was human, I’d say she’d lived no more thanfive-and-twenty years. But that could describe nearly all thefemales in the clearing.”

“Everyone there was dressed in dark blue,” shesaid.

“Nearly everyone,” he said. “The elf who claimedkinship to you wore a white gown and a mantle of some sort of whitefur.”

Honor’s throat tightened. She did not recall thedetails of that night and retained no image of her sister’s part init, but Volgo’s description matched the sort of gown Asteria wouldhave worn to a winter tribunal.

“What did she say to you?”

“She spoke to one of my men at first. He called meover when she demanded to speak to the ‘warlord.’ There wassomething in her manner that prompted obedience.”

This, beyond doubt, was Asteria. “What did she ask ofyou?”

“She asked for your life,” the man said. “Her woundswere mortal. Yours did not appear to be. She asked that you betended. You were to return a stolen dagger to your people. She wasmost insistent.”

The adept’s pursuit of the Gatherers, the honor shownthe slain elves, the undertaking of Asteria’s quest-all thesethings bore evidence to Rhendish’s determination to prevent troublebetween her people and his. Honor found that admirable. As thequeen’s sister and champion, she could do no less. Logic told herthat Rhendish was an ally.

And yet.

Rhendish reached out to touch her hand. He seemedneither surprised nor offended when she snatched it away.

“Does that suffice?” he asked.

She nodded. The adept dismissed his captain with aflick of one hand.

When they were alone, Rhendish leaned forwardconfidingly. “You don’t need to take the dagger back to the forest,if you don’t wish to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Her words came out sharper than she intended.Rhendish lifted both hands in a placating gesture.

“The captain told me certain other things thatpainted a rather ominous picture.”

“Such as?”

“There were no weapons in the glen except for asingle long sword. Of course,” he said, “it is possible that anyother weapons were taken as plunder, as was the dagger you seek.But none of the elves in the glen wore either belt or baldric. Thebodies of a few armed elves were found in the forest nearby, butnone in the clearing. Since it’s obvious that the elves didn’tgather for battle or hunting, I assume the raiders interrupted acelebration or ritual of some sort.”

All of these things were undoubtedly true. “So?”

“Except for your sister, all of the elves weredressed in dark blue. But my men found a single crimson robe. Thepresence of a blood-red robe and a single sword strikes me assomewhat. . suggestive.”

“You’ve concluded the gathering was to be a trialfollowed by an execution.”

He nodded. “And after the trial was interrupted, anelf in garb befitting a queen or a priestess demanded that youpresent yourself and a ceremonial dagger to your surviving clan.Forgive me if I presume, but it sounds very much like sentence wasalready passed-in your sister’s mind, if none other.”

A sound like rushing waters closed over Honor’s head.As much as she wanted to refute the adept’s words, she could not becertain that he was wrong. There was much about that night that waslost to memory. It might have been as he said.

“So when I say that you need not return to theforest, I’m offering you an alternative. You could stay in Sevrin.Volgo has faced elven swords before. He’s very eager to add one tohis company.”

“Not every elf is a warrior.”

Rhendish took her sword hand and turned it up,displaying the row of nearly bone-deep calluses across the top ofher palm and the scar along the pad of her thumb.

His eyes narrowed and he pushed up her sleeve. “Youremoved the bracers.”

“They were uncomfortable.”

“To you or to one of the Fox’s band of thieves?” heasked slyly.

She kept her gaze on his and her face impassive.“Obviously you’ve never worn armor of any kind.”

“But the scars. .”

She glanced down at her forearm. Pale silver linesran the length of her arm, crisscrossing older scars she’d won inbattle. None of the marks were unsightly. Elves healed quickly andvalued signs of valor.

“What about them?”

He shook his head in astonishment. “Most women of myacquaintance-and most men, for that matter-would consider suchmarks disfiguring.”

“You don’t know many warriors, then.”

“All the more reason for me to secure your services.I promise you, this arrangement would suit us both,” he saidearnestly. “Whatever you sought to achieve in the forest is lost.With me, you can gain wealth, a position of command, whatever youdesire.”

“What if my desire is to return to my people?”

“Only to die over some failed plot or unrealizedambition?” He shook his head. “You might think honor requires thisof you, but isn’t there greater honor to be found in keeping yourpeople safe and at peace? I’m offering you an alliance that puts inyour hands all the resources necessary to protect the forest fromthose who would despoil it.

“And who knows?” He turned his hands palms up andspread them out wide in the manner of one presenting vastpossibilities. “In time, you might achieve whatever it was thatbrought you to trial.”

“Or prove myself innocent.”

“Or that,” he said in a bland tone that contradictedhis words.

Honor studied him for any sign of duplicity. To allappearances, he sincerely believed her a traitor who might be wonto his cause. Why, she could not begin to fathom.

“I will think on it,” she said. “May I go?”

He swept one hand toward the door in a graceful arc.Honor rose, grateful to find her body back under her command.

Somehow she found her way through the walls of booksand out onto the street. She walked for a long time, playing thehuman’s words over and over in her mind.

He could be right. It was possible. If for somereason Asteria thought her capable of treachery, the Thorn wouldconfirm her suspicions.

On the other hand, it was possible that someone hadaccused Honor of wrongdoing, and Asteria knew that only theceremonial dagger would prove her innocence beyond doubt.