Kate Elliott - Cold Magic

"Then we are at an impasse, Maestressa Barahal," said Mae-ster Amadou in the same polite voice he had used to cow our academy proctor, Maestra Madrahat, by being better mannered and milder than you could ever be. "I have divulged as much as

I can. You have revealed as much as you are willing. Either we trust each other, or part ways."

"That I have little choice but to accept your help must be apparent to all of us." I did not mean my tone to grate so grudgingly, but it did. "If I seem unappreciative, 'ft is just that I have been running for my life under difficult circumstances, as I am sure you can deduce by my state of disorder and dirt. If you can get me alive to Adurnam, you will have my thanks and my cousin Beatrice's as well."

Amadou's mouth tightened on unspoken thoughts and emotions.

Lord Marius laughed. "What's this, brother? Have you actually fallen for a woman's fine eyes and pleasing form?"

"Excuse me, Lord Marius, but I cannot like to hear my cousin spoken of in such a trifling way."

"Oh, it would not be trifling in Amadou's case, I shouldn't think." Marius rose and fetched a case from beneath the cot on the left. He brought out a small harp, set it on his knee, and began to tune it. His features relaxed into a serious expression as he listened to the vibrations of each string. He seemed suddenly removed from us, following the overtones, and for a moment I thought a door might open into the spirit world and we might fall through.

A burst of male laughter from outside slammed closed the shutters of reality over my dreaming. At a nod from Amadou, the trooper attending the door stepped out. One breath later, he returned with another soldier in tow.

"What news?" Lord Marius asked without looking up from his harp.

The soldier started to laugh, thumped his own chest twice, and coughed to contain himself before addressing the two men. "Lord Marius. Legate."

Legate? I stared at Amadou Barry, but he was not looking at me. Only the Romans in their much shrunken imperial republic used the term legate for highly placed commanders and ambassadors.

"There's a… naked… man at the ramparts. He baldly requests permission to-"

I stood so fast I banged a knee against the table and had to catch its edge to prevent it from toppling over. My heart had galloped ahead. I could barely string coherent words together. "Let him in. Quickly! Can clothing be found?"

Lord Marius set to laughing in earnest. When he had controlled himself, and wiped his eyes, he managed to speak. "A naked man, come to my camp? Is it your abandoned husband, Catherine Hassi Barahal? Come to display himself for your benefit?"

My flush must have reached my ears as his words forced me to consider the prospect of facing Andevai Diarisso Haranwy in very different circumstances than any we'd previously shared. The two troopers and Lord Marius kept laughing while Legate Amadou Barry, whatever else he might be, had compassion enough to take pity on me.

"If you vouch for him, then certainly we can allow him to join our company. Sergeant, let him enter the camp."

The second trooper hurried out.

"By all means!" cried Lord Marius, placing the harp carefully back in its case and securing it. "Let me go view this prodigy for myself. Dare I hope-" He broke off and looked at me. Amadou put a hand on his forearm, in the way a man might quell a dog's yap. Marius chuckled and strode from the tent, leaving Amadou to give the order to fetch clothing.

I grabbed a cloak off the hook and hurried out in Lord Marius's wake, with Amadou following. The news had spread

through camp. The soldiers were calling out jokes, although in no way did they relax their vigilance.

"Best you stay back, maestressa," called Lord Marius over his shoulder. "The House company has camped beyond the ramparts. They have crossbows."

So I stood, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, as the officer and five men strode ahead. Amadou remained beside me.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"I think it likely it is my brother."

He raised an eyebrolv. "I did not know you had a brother, maestressa."

"No. I expect you did not."

A trooper ran past, carrying a bundle of clothes. He, too, vanished past the angle where the ramparts opened.

"He saved my life just today," I added. "I wasn't sure he was still alive-"

I pressed a fist to my mouth, unable to speak. My companion wisely held his tongue. Had he said one cursed sympathetic thing right then, I think I would have clawed out his eyes.

I heard men talking and talking, laughing and joking. It took forever and a day exactly as if they were conducting a party and had forgotten me entirely. I would have run to find out what was taking so long, but I thought of crossbow bolts and did not. At long last strode a half dozen men into view with Rory among them, limping a little-his feet were still bare but he was otherwise decently clothed-and his head thrown back as he laughed at some soldierly quip.

I might have moaned first, as despair fled my heart, entirely routed. Then I shrieked. "Rory!" I ran, and I flung myself at him so hard he staggered back at the impact and got an arm around me as I pressed my face into the coat he was wearing.

"You're safe," I cried like a player in the theater. "I thought you were dead."

"They were too startled to manage an effective counterattack. And the remaining horses went wild. All but one bolted."

I glanced up just as he licked his lips, looking suspiciously pleased with himself.

"I didn't know you could do that," I said with a glance at the soldiers now watching us with the sentimental expressions of men who pretend to be big and tough but in truth dandle babies on their knee with the greatest tenderness and affection.

"Neither did I!" he replied with a grin. "It just…came over me."

We both started laughing, and I broke away and wiped my eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"A shard of bone cut one paw. Nothing important. Now who are these fine fellows who have given me these fine clothes? And is that beef I smell?"

I introduced him as my brother Roderic without offering a single detail more, and our hosts graciously had another platter of food brought as well as a fourth camp stool. Rory chatted and laughed with Marius and Amadou, ever so charming, pausing at intervals to try on boots that soldiers brought in, none of which fit.

I stared at him, scarcely able to believe he had survived. His features, his gestures, his long black braid: All these had become as familiar to me as if I had known them my entire life long, yet I had first encountered him only a few days ago. I did not understand it. Was this what kinship meant? A sense, deep in your bones, that the person next to you is part of you? Inextricable from what you are? That you could not be who you are without their existence as part of the architecture of your very self?

We are none of us one thing alone and unchanging. We are not static, or at rest. Just as a city or a prince's court or a lineage

is many people in one, so is a person many people within one, always unfinished and always like a river's current flowing onward ever changing toward the ocean that is greater than all things combined. You cannot step into the same river twice.

"Philosophizing over there?" asked Rory, as if he could hear my thoughts. "You don't usually stay silent for this long, Cat. Unless you're deliberately ignoring me, I mean."

I shook off my reverie. "Just worrying," I said.

Lord Marius rose. "It will be a long night. I suppose the company pursuing you may take it into their heads to attempt a night raid, so I'll keep half my men awake and half asleep in their boots."

"I'll take the second watch," said Amadou.

"My thanks, Legate" I said with what I hoped was a biting smile.