David Weber - Wind Rider's Oath

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In The War God’s Own, Bahzell had managed to stop a war by convincing Baron Tellian, leader of the Sothōii, to “surrender” to him, the War God’s champion. Now, he has journeyed to the Sothōii Wind Plain to oversee the parole he granted to Tellian and his men, to represent the Order of Tomanâk, the War God, and to be an ambassador for the hradani. What’s more, the flying coursers of the Sothōii have accepted Bahzell as a windrider-the first hradani windrider in history. And since the windriders are the elite of the elite among the Sothōii, Bahzell’s ascension is as likely to stir resentment as respect. That combination of duties would have been enough to keep anyone busy-even a warrior prince like Bahzell-but additional complications are bubbling under the surface. The goddess Shīgū, the Queen of Hell, is sowing dissension among the war maids of the Sothōii. The supporters of the deposed Sothōii noble who started the war are plotting to murder their new leige lord and frame Bahzell for the deed. Of course, those problems are all in a day’s work for a champion of the War God. But what is Bahzell going to do about the fact that Baron Tellian’s daughter, the heir to the realm, seems to be thinking that he is the only man-or hradani-for her?

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The three of them stood in the soggy grass behind the roofed exercise salle, and Leeana felt as if she'd dressed inappropriately for a formal party. She wore the leather trousers and smock her mother had deplored with increasing frequency, yet this time she was the one who seemed dreadfully overdressed for the occasion. Erlis and Garlahna both wore the traditional war maid chari and yathu. The former was a short green kilt which fell barely to mid-thigh, and the latter was something which might have been described (in a moment of extreme charity) as a short, abbreviated- very abbreviated-bodice. But it wasn't boned and happened to be made out of fabric-lined, glove-supple leather. Whereas the main support of a regular bodice came from below, with little or no weight actually bearing on the shoulders, the yathu was equipped with buckle-adjustable shoulder straps which crossed on the wearer's shoulder blades. It was shorter, snugger, and stronger than any conventional "bodice" Leeana had ever seen. She could see where that support might come in handy, she supposed, but she hardly needed it. Not yet, at least. Garlahna, on the other hand, although shorter than Leeana, was considerably bustier, which her yathu made amply-one might almost have said abundantly-apparent.

Although Leeana had heard tales of the "licentious" and "shocking" war maid garments, she'd never actually seen them until she reached Kalatha, and she found herself somewhat in two minds about them. They certainly seemed practical enough, but still . . . The fact that both war maids were also barefoot, despite the chilly spring breeze and the muddy footing, whereas she still wore her riding boots, didn't make her feel one bit less overdressed, either.

"Garlahna, this is Leeana Hanathafressa," Erlis continued calmly, and Leeana's entire body tensed.

Her concern for anything as unimportant as what she might or might not be wearing vanished instantly, and her head twitched as it tried to whip around towards Erlis. She stopped herself in time, but it was hard, hard. It was the first time anyone had ever called her that, and the loss of her father's name hit her like an axe. Yet she'd known it was coming. Every war maid was known legally by her mother's given name, not whatever surname she might have borne before she became a war maid. It wasn't as if Leeana had a choice-she didn't-or as if she didn't love her mother or hated to be known as Hanatha's daughter. But she still felt as if in that moment, when Erlis first used her matronym, she had somehow abandoned her father, and it hurt. Perhaps it hurt even more because, in a way, some small, deeply hidden piece of her insisted that that was precisely what she had done.

But much as it hurt, she refused to let herself look at Erlis in either surprise or pain. And certainly not in anger. She suspected that her reaction to that first, abrupt use of her new name was a test, or at least a part of the training process she was about to begin.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Leeana," Garlahna said after moment. Her voice was deeper than Leeana's, with a musical throatiness. "I hope I can help you settle in here reasonably comfortably."

Leeana did glance at Erlis this time, out of the corner of her eye, and the Hundred nodded.

"Thank you . . . Garlahna," Leeana said then. "I hope I can fit in quickly, but-" she flashed a small smile "-I wonder if any new war maid ever really settles in comfortably ."

She heard something suspiciously like a smothered snort from Erlis' direction, and Garlahna grinned. Then she smoothed the smile quickly from her expression and nodded with appropriate sobriety.

"It does come as quite a shock for most of us, whatever we expected ahead of time," she agreed.

"Most of us survive it, though," Erlis put in dryly, and Leeana looked back at her.

"And you'll have your opportunity to begin surviving it first thing tomorrow morning, Leeana," the Hundred continued briskly. "You'll be joining us for calisthenics at dawn. Once you've had a chance to warm up, I'll evaluate the level of your current general physical skills. After breakfast, you'll have your first session with Ravlahn-that's Ravlahn Thregafressa, my assistant arms master-and me. We'll see where you are in terms of self-defense and weapons skills. Then, after lunch," Erlis continued, apparently oblivious to Leeana's reaction, "you'll have an hour or two with Lanitha Sarthayafressa. She's our archivist, but she's also the principal of our school here in Kalatha. She'll evaluate your basic literacy, your math ability, and your general knowledge. That should take you to an hour or so before supper, and you'll be assigned to one of the dining hall crews for that. I'm not sure which of the cooks will be in charge of the kitchen, but Garlahna will be responsible for finding that out and seeing to it that you report in the right place at the right time."

She paused and smiled at Leeana, possibly with a tiny edge of compassion.

"Any questions?" she asked then.

"Ah, no, Hundred Erlis," Leeana replied after a moment spent womanfully throttling the dozens of questions she wanted to ask.

"Good." Leeana thought she might detect a trace of approval in Erlis' eyes, but if she had, the hundred let no sign of it show in her voice or expression. "In that case, I'll leave you with Garlahna."

She nodded briskly, turned on her heel, and strode away, leaving the two young women alone.

* * *

Leeana stood gazing at Garlahna while butterflies seemed to circle one another in some sort of intricate dance in her midsection. She felt a fluttery-pulsed uncertainty she was not accustomed to, and none of the social formulae or skills she'd been taught as a baron's daughter offered her any hint about what to do next.

"So, Leeana," Garlahna said before the awkward pause could stretch too long. "I suppose we'd better see about your room assignment and getting you settled in." she smiled. "Trust me-you won't have time to do any of it tomorrow!"

"That's how it sounded to me, too," Leeana admitted with a wan smile.

"Oh, don't let Hundred Erlis' act fool you," Garlahna said cheerfully. "It's lots worse than she makes it sound!"

"Oh, thank you!" Leeana replied, and found herself sharing a tension-soothing laugh with her "mentor."

She stood back mentally to give Garlahna a quick examination. She'd already noted the other young woman's broad, somewhat rustic accent, although Garlahna's grammar was much better than she would have expected from that accent. Garlahna was from somewhere in the eastern part of the West Riding, she guessed, near the Spear River, and her parents had probably been small freeholders, or the retainers of one of her father's minor lords. As such, the social gulf between their births could not possibly have yawned wider, yet Garlahna seemed totally unaware that she was speaking to the only child of the Lord Warden of the West Riding. Which, Leeana conceded, was as it ought to be, because she no longer was her parents' child-not legally, at any rate. But it was still interesting that Garlahna could manage that disassociation between who she now was and who she once had been.

"You're welcome," Garlahna told her, once their shared laughter had eased. Then she waved one hand in a small, dismissive gesture.

"Don't worry about it too much, Leeana. All of us have had to survive it somehow. In some ways, it's almost like a kind of ceremony-a trial by combat, I guess you might call it-before we're really war maids. Actually," she wrinkled her nose as she gave Leeana a critical, evaluating glance, "I kind of suspect you'll do better than most of us. At least you've got the legs for speed, which is more than I ever did. And," she grinned again, "you're nowhere near as top-heavy as I am!"

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