R. Salvatore - The Highwayman

Put like that, Prydae's words seemed to have a greater effect on his father. Laird Pryd settled back in his chair and assumed a pensive pose.

"She should be surrendered to Castle Pryd at once," Prydae pressed now that he had his father's sudden interest. "Father Jerak is not over fond of her anyway, from what Brother Bathelais has told me. I doubt he will argue against your request."

"You would have me take her into Castle Pryd, and what-imprison her?"

"Until we can understand her true nature and her intent in being here, yes."

Laird Pryd paused and took a couple of deep breaths, then looked back over his shoulder at Rennarq, who merely shrugged.

"I will go and speak with Father Jerak," the laird agreed, and with some effort-a lingering weakness from his illness, perhaps-he pulled himself off his throne. A wave of dizziness had SenWi leaning back in the cool shadows of an alcove, broom in hand, when the main door banged open and Laird Pryd and his entourage entered the chapel. The woman watched him with interest, measuring his strides and recognizing that something might be amiss here.

SenWi had been uncomplaining, accepting the position offered her by Brother Bathelais as a cleaning servant in the chapel. Dynard had not been pleased of course, but SenWi had counseled him to patience. At least the two of them could spend some time together by this arrangement, which was much better than an alternative that had him serving in this dark place, with her somewhere away. As a disciplined Jhesta Tu, SenWi didn't fear work, after all.

Without apparently noticing the woman hidden by the shadows, the laird and his escorts swept through the room and down the side corridor toward Father Jerak's private quarters.

SenWi stepped out of the alcove and glanced all around. She knew that this was an unusual visit, and she sensed something deeper, some notion that the secular leader's presence here had something to do with Bran Dynard's return. Seeing no one watching her, SenWi leaned the broom against the wall and moved off, silent as a shadow. She headed down the corridor, turning the corner to see the laird enter Jerak's private room. SenWi paused at the wall and gathered her concentration, then lifted her chi, lightening her body weight as she scaled the decorated wall.

She crawled sidelong atop a ledge, moving right above the now-closed door to a transom, so she could look down upon the private meeting. They were exchanging formal greetings, and SenWi reconsidered her course. What was she doing here? What business was this of hers? Shaking her head at her foolishness, she began to ease away, but stopped short, when she heard Laird Pryd say to Jerak, "It would not be wise for the brothers of Abelle to harbor a dangerous animal."

"We are assessing her," the old monk replied.

It hit SenWi then that they were speaking of her. As she quickly moved away, she heard Laird Pryd say something about the need for proper security during such assessments.

She hit the ground running, slipping back into the main area of the chapel and then out the door. She thought that she should go to Dynard but wasn't sure where he might be. In the tiny prayer rooms, likely, but he would not be alone.

SenWi went out and around the corner of the building, moving into the alleys between the chapel and the castle. She found a quiet, secluded spot and leaned back against the brown stone wall, overcome by lightheadedness.

Her hand went instinctively to her belly, to the child growing there. "They are going to tell you that I must be turned over to Laird Pryd," SenWi told Dynard, in the language of Behr.

"They will not-" Brother Dynard started to argue, but he stopped short and leaped forward, grabbing his suddenly swaying wife. "Are you all right? SenWi!"

She put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder and managed a weak smile. "I am with child," she explained. "I am pregnant with your child."

Suddenly it was Dynard who needed the support to stand.

He gasped out a few unintelligible sounds, then, his eyes moist, he hugged his wife close, burying his face in her black hair and wondering if anything in the world could be more wonderful.

Finally, after a long while, Bran managed to move back to arm's length. "My Church will sanction our marriage only if you disavow the teachings of the Jhesta Tu."

SenWi's expression went cold immediately.

"Which of course you cannot do," Dynard quickly added. "Nor should you. I embrace Jhest as wholly now as I did in the Walk of Clouds."

"But your brethren will not approve."

"Not yet," he admitted. "These things take time. I will show them the truth, SenWi. It is my place in the world now-well, that and serving you as husband and our child as father." He couldn't suppress a grin, but his smile did not soften SenWi's concerned expression.

"I will teach them and persuade them," he promised her, taking her by the shoulders so that she had to look at him directly, had to see his determination.

"They will insist that I am handed to the charge of Laird Pryd," SenWi countered. "I heard them myself. He fears me, for some reason."

"Or he wishes to learn from you. Might it be that Laird Pryd has heard of your exploits against the powries?"

"He likely would have, since you boasted of it to his soldiers."

"Then perhaps he wishes to have you teach his soldiers or his son."

SenWi's lips went very tight and she shook her head.

Brother Dynard hadn't expected any different reaction, of course, for he understood that the Jhesta Tu weren't about to divulge their secrets of combat. To the southern mystics, the learning of martial arts was part of the process of learning the Book of Jhest, and to remove the specifics of combat from that overall process went against everything they believed. Dynard had made the suggestion of intent only to place a less menacing twist on the laird's apparent interest in SenWi, to try to lighten their shared fears.

"I just mean-" he started to explain.

"I am vulnerable now," SenWi interrupted, and she took Bran's hand and placed it on her belly.

He could hardly draw breath. He turned his hand over and clasped SenWi's tightly, pulling her close. He looked up at the sky as late afternoon turned to twilight. "Come," he bade her. "We will get you out to Garibond's house, where you will be safe. I will tell my brethren that you have departed for Behr, that you could not accept the terms of their demands." He was thinking as he went, improvising. "And I will remain steadfast in my support of your choice. I will teach them-I must teach them. I see my duty now to my brethren as clearly as Blessed Abelle must have seen his own when he discovered the glories of Pimaninicuit and the sacred gemstones. This is my place in life." He looked back down at SenWi's delicately curving belly and added, "My place in the wider world."

The couple went out soon after, as darkness fell across the land.

Before the dawn, Brother Bran was on his way back to Chapel Pryd, clutching the Book of Jhest, his expression one of complete determination.

He would teach them.

The Loss of Control SenWi awakened with a start and immediately tried to rise. A wave of nausea sent her tumbling back to the cot, and she gave a little cry.

As soon as she saw Garibond coming through the door toward her, she realized where she was-in the tunnels beneath his house-and she remembered her last conversation with her husband. Dynard had wanted to return at once to Chapel Pryd with the Book of Jhest. He was convinced that he would sway the brothers of Abelle, that he would enlighten them as he had been enlightened.

SenWi didn't believe it for a moment. She had counseled Bran against returning-or at least against returning with the book.

But he was angry, livid over the dismissal of their marriage by his brethren and outraged at the notion that SenWi would be "turned over" to anyone.