Juliet McKenna - The Swordsman's Oath

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for Planir to deign to contact me with instructions and trying to decide what to do for the best,” snapped Shiv with an irritation I was glad was not directed at me personally.

He smacked the alabaster raven piece down in the center of the board with a force that made me wince; that is too soft a stone to appreciate such treatment.

“Want some company, or do you have something else more useful I could be doing?” I smiled as he looked at me for the first time.

“I reckon I could do with someone to talk to,” he admitted, pushing with an aimless finger at one of the softly swirling malachite trees standing around the board inlaid on the table top. “Planir said he should have instructions for me before noon. I’d appreciate your thoughts on what he has to tell us.”

I relaxed on a velvet-upholstered chair and picked up one of the crow pieces, admiring the exquisite workmanship; jet’s difficult stone to carve, according to my father.

“Livak’s gone out,” said Shiv abruptly, closing the circle of trees around the raven with an irritated gesture.

“Halice told me,” I replied mildly. “Still, she knows the city better than either of us; I’d say she’ll be able to keep herself out of trouble.”

Shiv looked up with a ghost of a smile; I hadn’t been able to keep the chagrin out of my voice.

“You don’t think she’ll need either of us riding in at the end of the fifth verse to rescue her like some maiden in a bad Soluran ballad, then?”

I shook my head. “A knight-protector is the last thing Livak’s ever going to want or require.” My voice must have betrayed me.

“So where does that leave you?” asked Shiv with a genuine concern that surprised me a little.

“A sworn man, whose oath is supposed to come before any other consideration?” I set the crow down carefully next to a golden agate owl. “I’ll settle for whatever she’s willing to give, just at the moment, as long as she’s willing to let me keep my oaths. As for anything more, I don’t even know if she wants a future with me, so I’ll worry about selling that skin when I’ve caught the bear.”

Shiv nodded his understanding. “Pered and I took quite some time to work out a way of living together, what with him not being a mage. It became quite difficult when I started working for the Council, but we managed to find a balance.” His gaze lengthened as he stared seaward out of the window. “I do miss him.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that; I’d been a little surprised to find that Shiv preferred to dance with his own side of the set, but as I was confident he’d be keeping his hand off my shirt tails I didn’t give the matter much thought. It wasn’t something I particularly wanted to discuss, however. I’m no Rationalist, I don’t subscribe to their theories about the determining logic of nature’s pattern—meaning one man, one woman and no alternatives; still, enough Tormalins take on Rational ideas while observing the rituals and holy days of less censorious traditions to make any of my acquaintance who felt inclined to scent his handkerchiefs do so very discreetly. I liked Shiv, I respected him as a man and a mage, and I certainly didn’t want to offend him by saying the wrong thing or revealing my own ignorance, come to that.

“How about a game of Raven while we wait?” I carefully replaced the pieces in their niches on either side of the table.

Shiv looked at the board as if only just registering it was there. “No, thanks, I don’t play as a rule.”

That made sense, since the whole game is based on the premise of birds driving out the one born different to the majority.

I opened a drawer in a small cabinet. “A few hands of runes?”

“Yes, all right.” Shiv stretched his long arms over his head and his expression lightened a little.

I took out a velvet bag and closed the drawer. “You know, if we find ourselves up to our hips in horseshit over all this and paid off in Lescari Marks, we ought to think about tax-contracting.”

“It certainly looks to pay well enough,” Shiv agreed, his grin broadening as he turned the table-top over to reveal the velvet-lined face for rune play.

I spread the nine finely made sea-ivory rods on the table-top and Shiv gave them rather more than the customary examination, dark brows meeting above curious eyes.

“Is this inlay gold or bronze?” He picked up one of the bones and turned it slowly, looking at the three faces, the angular sigils that were the ancient symbols for the Deer, the Oak and the Forest. I’m more used to the ornamental sets used in Tormalin, little pictures painted on each rune.

“Gold,” I confirmed. “So, what are we playing?”

“Three runes, three throws?” suggested Shiv, tossing the heaven rune to give us the sun and the lesser moon on either side of the uppermost faces.

“Male runes strong, then,” I nodded. “Are we counting points or pence?”

Shiv smiled and this was a wide, guileless smile that made me wonder how much he played. “Pence, I’d say, just to keep it interesting.”

I swept the bones back into the bag and held it out so Shiv could draw three. The first few plays were certainly interesting; Shiv consistently passed up modest combinations of runes from his first throws in favor of trying for higher scoring patterns. He showed no nervousness and was soon winning more than he was losing. I could almost have suspected him of weighting the game when he threw the Wolf and the Storm first toss when all I could come up with was the Reed and the Harp, and that on my third throw. Just as I was thinking the odds were starting to favor me, I drew the heaven rune and it landed with both moons up, ending the hand.

“Have you got something to keep score on over there?” Shiv grinned at me. I shook my head in mock disgust as I rummaged in the cabinet drawer.

There were several sticks of charcoal in elegant silver holders and some off-cuts of reed paper which I drew out. I glanced at the backs but they were blank; Mellitha evidently didn’t risk unfriendly eyes seeing even the most innocuous memoranda from her office.

“You don’t seem to have a problem deciding what to do when you’re playing,” I winced as I totted up my losses. Would things improve now female runes were dominant? Knowing my luck, I’d be drawing the Mountain and the Drum in every hand instead.

Shiv paused in casting idle trios of bones, hand against hand. “It’s easy enough to be bold and reckless when the worst that’ll happen is losing your boots to pay your debts.”

“You were quick-witted enough when we were trying to find a way out of that Elietimm dungeon,” I shook my head with a friendly smile, choosing my words carefully. “Don’t take me wrong, but you’ve been like a cat wanting fish but afraid to wet his paws on this trip.”

Shiv’s expression hardened a little. “I’m sorry if I’m a little hesitant; it’s not so easy finding a way to do what Planir wants that I can be sure will keep us all out of Elietimm hands.”

He shoved the runes into the bag with unnecessary force and promptly threw the Eagle, the Sea and the Zephyr first toss.

“Is Planir baying at your heels, then?” I barely bothered calculating the meager score I got from the Calm, the Pine and the Broom, deciding I wouldn’t be playing Livak for anything important until my luck improved dramatically.

Shiv shook his head. “No, not at all. He lets you know where your task ranks on the scale of things and generally you know how long you have to get results, but he’ll always listen to reason and give you leeway when you need it. I trust him; he’s got all the reins firmly in his hands.”

“He sounds like Messire.” I threw then rerolled all three bones with a mutter of disgust. “So if Planir isn’t going to savage you for following a few false scents, why are you keeping Livak on such a tight leash? Let her do some of the work for you; you know she’s got the nose for something like this.”