David Drake: The Gods Return

"Cashel is accompanying Rasile at this moment," Tenoctris said, looking squarely at Sharina. "I thought that might be a good pairing for the future, if the kingdom's safety required a wizard with suitable protection to act at a distance from the palace and army."

Sharina didn't mean to turn away, but she found her eyes were resting on the top codex of the pile on the chair. It'd been bound with the pebbled skin of a lizard. There was no legend on the cover, but on the edge of the pages was writtenHybro in vermillion ink. The word didn't mean anything to her. She pursed her lips. "You mean the sort of thing you and Cashel did just now, while I led the army against Pandah," she said without emphasis. She looked at the wizard again. The young, pretty, very powerful wizard. "That went very well, I believe." "Yes," said Tenoctris flatly, "it did." She paused. "I always found Cashel impressive," she said. "I find him even more so now that I have-" She twisted a lock of hair to call attention to her gleaming, sandy-red curls. "-more capacity for appreciation." This time it was Tenoctris who looked away. She cleared her throat and continued, "Sharina, I have powers that I wouldn't have, couldn't have, dreamed of in the past." She smiled wryly. "In a verylong past life. I hope that this power hasn't caused me to lose my judgment, however. Specifically, it hasn't caused me to miss what Cashel is: a rock which will stand though the heavens fall." "I never doubted you, Tenoctris," Sharina said. She didn't know if that was true. Her lips were dry. "If you're wise," Tenoctris said, smiling again, "then you never doubted Cashel.

You never should doubt Cashel, Sharina. Though the heavens fall."

Sharina rose, feeling a trifle dizzy. That was common after squatting, after all. "I'm sure Rasile will find him a good companion and protector," she said. "If there's need, of course." There would be need. Sharina was as sure of that as she was that there would be a thunderstorm. She didn't know when or how violent it would be- But she knew that the storm was coming. *** Ilna's fingers knotted short lengths of cord as she looked at the four people across the desk from her. She was angry, but that-like the fact the sun rises in the east-wasn't unusual enough to be worth comment. Directly before her were a pair of plump young women, Carisa and Bovea, foster nurses employed by the Lady Merota bos-Roriman Society for Orphans; they were crying. A man of thirty named Heismat, originally from Cordin, sat to their left. He'd wanted to stand, but he'd obeyed when Ilna ordered him onto the third low stool. Despite his bluster and the angry red of his face, Heismat's eyes were cold with fear. Ilna smiled, though nobody could've mistaken the expression for humor. Heismat knew he was in trouble, though as yet he didn't understand how serious the trouble was. It was hard to convince some people that they shouldn't knock children around, and even more people thought a Corl kit was an animal rather than a child.

Mistress Winora, the manager of the Merota Society, stood beside the door with her hands crossed at her waist; her face was expressionless.

Winora was fifty, the widow of a merchant from Erdin who'd been killed in the chaos that followed the Change. She'd kept the books and managed the Erdin end of the business while her husband traveled, so she-unlike Ilna-had the skills required to run the day to day operations of the Society. Carisa and Bovea were among the many other women who'd lost their spouses recently. There were even more orphans than there were widows, so it'd seemed perfectly obvious to Ilna to put the two together to the advantage of both, paying each pair of nurses a competence sufficient to care for a handful of children.

She'd done so in the name of Merota, who'd been an orphan also until Ilna and Chalcus took charge of her. Ilna's fingers knotted, forming a very complex pattern. It calmed her to knot and weave, but she had a specific purpose this time. She wasvery angry. Merota and Chalcus had died during the Change. If you believed in souls, then Ilna's soul had died with them-with her family. Ilna didn't believe in souls or gods or anything, really, except craftsmanship. And she believed in the death that would come to all things, though perhaps not as soon as she would like. "Look, I'm sorry," Heismat snarled. He glared at his knotted hands. He'd been a laborer before the Change and had come to Pandah to work in the building trade. "Isaid I was sorry, didn't I? I didn't mean to do it!" "Mistress," blubbered Carisa. Heismat was her boyfriend. "It was only because he was drinking, you know. He's a good man, agood man, really." "Mistress Winora, how is the kit?" Ilna asked. Her voice was thin and as cold as the wind from the Ice Capes.

"She'll live," Winora said. Her face was bleak, her tone emotionless.

Winora regarded this as failure on her part. "She'll probably limp for the rest of her life, but we may be lucky." Ilna nodded. "Worse things happen in this world," she said. It wasn't Winora's fault. It was the fault of Ilna os-Kenset, who'd created a situation which allowed a child to be injured instead of being protected as was supposed to have happened. Worse things happened, as she'd said. She'd done far worse things herself. But thisparticular thing wouldn't happen again. "There were other instances of Master Heismat hitting the kit," Winora said.

"They weren't as serious, and I didn't learn about them until after this event. I'm sorry, mistress. I wasn't watching as closely as I should have done." "People make mistakes," Ilna said quietly, her eyes on Heismat; he fidgeted under the cold appraisal. She thought, At least you're aware of that it was a mistake. If Winora had said the wrong thing-and it wouldn't have had to be very wrong, because Ilna was extremely angry-she'd have been next in line as soon as Ilna was done with Heismat. "Mistress, please," Carisa said, mumbling into her kerchief wadded in both hands. "Heismat's a good man, only the cats killed his whole family. Please, mistress." The rhythmicching! ching! of iron on stone sounded from the courtyard. A mason was carving letters and embellishments for the lintel with strokes of a narrow-bladed adze. Ilna had been angry to learn that money was being spent on what she considered needless ornamentation when a painted sign would do. She'd checked her facts before she acted, though; someone who got as angry as Ilna did learned to check the facts before acting. Lady Liane bos-Benliman, the fiancee of Prince Garric and, less publicly, the kingdom's spymaster, had ordered the carving. Liane was paying for the job from her own funds. Ilna still thought the carving was an unnecessary expense, but she'd learned a long time ago that what she thought and what the world thought were likely to be very different. And Ilna also knew that she made mistakes. Sometimes it felt like she made only mistakes, though of course that wasn't true anyplace but in Ilna's heart. She'd thanked Liane for her generosity.

"Mistress," said Heismat, glaring at his hands. "I didn't mean it, only I come home and there the beast-" "Cloohe, mistress!" said Bovea.

"Little Cloohe, and it's my fault, I'd shut her up when we saw it was getting on and Heismat wasn't home yet, but she must've slipped out while I was dozing." "I seen the, the cat, and I thunk of my own three that the cats kilt and I couldn't stop myself, mistress," Heismat said brokenly toward his knotted fists. "I'd drunk a bit much. Iknowed I shoulda kept away, but I wanted to see Carisa and, and I didn't think.

I seed the, the kit, and I just flew hot." "Mistress, it was the drink," Carisa said. "It's my own fault not to keep Cloohe locked up better when it got so late and Heismat not back." "I've already split the women up and put them with stronger partners, mistress," Winora said in the same dry tone as before. "They're among the best caretakers we have. Though of course I've warned them that you may choose to dismiss or otherwise punish them." Ilna shrugged. "I'm concerned with preventing a recurrence," she said, "not vengeance. I tried vengeance long enough to determine that it wasn't a satisfactory answer." How many of the Coerli did I kill after they'd slaughtered Chalcus and Merota? Many, certainly. More than even Merota, who counted any number you pleased without using tellers, could've kept track of. Ilna smiled. Bovea, who happened to be looking at her, stifled a scream with her knuckles. "Mistress, I'm sorry," Heismat said, stumbling over the words in his fear. "I swear by the Lady it'll never happen again. Never! " "It were just the drink, mistress,"