David Weber - Wind Rider's Oath

The armsman who'd ushered her into Trisu's presence, withdrew at his lord's gesture, and the office door closed quietly behind him. Sunlight spilled in through the diamond-pane windows behind Trisu's desk, and for all its trophy-girt walls, the square, high-ceilinged room did have a certain airy warmth.

"Good morning, Dame Kaeritha. I trust you slept well? That your chambers were comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you, Milord. I did, and they were." She smiled. "And thank you for seeing me so promptly this morning."

"You are, of course, welcome, although no thanks are necessary. Duty to my liege lord-and to the War God, as well-requires no less." He leaned back in his high-backed chair and folded his hands atop one another on the desk before him. "At the same time," he continued, "I fear Baron Tellian's instructions, while clear, were less than complete. In what way may I assist you?"

"The Baron was less than specific," Kaeritha conceded. "Unfortunately, when he wrote those letters, before I set out, neither he nor I were certain what I would discover or what sorts of problems I might find myself dealing with."

He raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"Champions of Tomanâk often find themselves in that sort of situation, Milord. We get used to dealing with challenges on the fly, as it were. Baron Tellian knew that would be the case here."

"I see." Trisu pursed his lips as he considered that. Then it was his turn to shrug. "I see," he repeated. "But may I assume that since you've sought me out and presented the Baron's letters, you now know what problem you face?"

"I believe I've discovered the nature of the problem, at least, Milord." Kaeritha hoped her tone sounded more courteous than cautious, but she was aware that his obvious prejudices had awakened a matching antipathy in her and she was watching her tongue carefully. "It involves your ongoing . . . dispute with Kalatha."

" Which dispute, Milady?" Trisu inquired with a thin smile. His response was just a bit quicker than Kaeritha had expected, and her eyes narrowed. "Several matters stand in contention between the war maids and me," he continued. The words "war maids" came out sourly, but Kaeritha would have expected that. What she didn't care for was something else in his tone-something which seemed to suggest he anticipated less than complete impartiality out of her.

"If you'll forgive my saying so, Milord," she said after a moment, "all of your disputes with Kalatha -" she carefully refrained from using the apparently incendiary words "war maids" herself "- are the same at the heart."

"I beg to differ, Dame Kaeritha," Trisu replied, his jaw jutting. "I am well aware that Mayor Yalith chooses to ascribe all of the differences between us to my own deep-seated prejudices. That, however, is not the case."

Kaeritha's expression must have revealed her own skepticism, because he gave a short, barking laugh.

"Don't mistake me, Milady Champion," he said. "I don't like war maids. I wouldn't say that I dis like them as much as, say, my cousin Triahm, but that's not saying a great deal. I think their very existence is an affront to the way the gods intended us to live, and the notion that women- most women at any rate-" he amended as Kaeritha's eyes flashed, although his tone remained unapologetic "- can be the equal of men as warriors is ridiculous. Obviously, as you yourself demonstrate, there are exceptions, but as a general rule, the idea is ludicrous."

Kaeritha made herself sit firmly on her temper. It wasn't easy. But at least the young man sitting across the desk from her had the courage-or arrogance-to say exactly what he thought. And, she admitted after a moment, the honesty to bring his own feelings openly to the table rather than attempt to deny them or dress them up in fine linen. In fact, and although she found herself hesitant to rush to assign virtues to him, that honesty seemed to be an integral part of his personality.

Which undoubtedly makes him even more difficult to live with, she thought wryly. But it also makes me wonder how he can be maintaining his position so strongly now, when he must know inside that he's in the wrong. Unless his prejudices against war maids are strong enough to overcome that innate honesty of his?

"I don't much care for 'general rules,' Milord," she said when she was certain she could keep her own tone level. "I've found that, for most people, 'general rules' are all too often little more than an excuse for ignoring realities they don't care to face."

She held his eyes across the desktop, and neither gaze flinched.

"I'm not surprised you should feel that way," he said. "And I imagine that if our positions were reversed, I might feel much as you do. But they aren't reversed, and I don't." The words weren't-quite-as challenging as they might have been, Kaeritha noted. "Because I don't, I choose to say so openly. Not simply because I believe I'm right-although, obviously, I do-but so that there should be no misunderstanding on your part or mine."

"It's always best to avoid misunderstandings," she agreed in a dust-dry voice.

"I've always thought so," he said with a nod. "And having said that, I repeat that my . . . difficulties with Kalatha have very little to do with my opinion of war maids in general. The fact of the matter is that Kalatha is clearly in violation of its own charter and my boundaries and that Mayor Yalith and her town council refuse to admit it."

Kaeritha sat back in her chair, surprised despite herself by his blunt assertion. He'd taken the same position in his correspondence with Tellian's magistrates, but Kaeritha had read the relevant portions of Kalatha's original charter and Lord Kellos' grant in Yalith's library before riding to Thalar. The mayor and Lanitha had pointed out the specific language governing the points in dispute, and Kaeritha had been grateful for the archivist's guidance. Her own command of the written Sothōii language was far inferior to Brandark's, and the archaic usages and cramped, faded penmanship of the long-dead scribe who'd written out Gartha and Kellos' original proclamations hadn't helped. But she'd been able to puzzle her way through the phraseology of the relevant sections eventually, and it was obvious that Yalith's interpretation was far more accurate than Trisu's assertions.

"With all due respect, Milord," she said now, "I've read King Gartha's original proclamation, and the terms of Lord Kellos' grant to the war maids. While I realize many of the subsequent points in dispute between you and Kalatha have arisen out of later customary usages and practices, I think the original language is quite clear. On the matters of water rights, road tolls, and the location of your father's grist mill on land which belongs to Kalatha, it would appear to me that the war maids are correct."

"No, they aren't," Trisu said flatly. "As any fair reading of the documents in question amply demonstrates."

"Are you suggesting that a champion of Tomanâk would not read evidentiary documents fairly?" Kaeritha was aware that her own voice was both colder and harder than it had been, but she couldn't help it. Not in the face of his bald denial of the documents she'd read with her own eyes.

"I'm suggesting that the documents clearly say the opposite of what Mayor Yalith claims they say," Trisu replied, refusing to back down. Which, Kaeritha, admitted to herself, required a certain moral courage on his part. Whatever reservations he might cherish about women warriors, he'd had ample proof when she healed three of his sick and injured retainers that she most certainly was a champion of Tomanâk. And only a man absolutely certain of his own ground-or a fool-would so flatly challenge a direct, personal servant of the God of Justice.

"Milord," she said after a pause, "while I would normally hesitate to contradict you, in this instance I fear you are incorrect." His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, and she continued. "Once I reached Kalatha and realized where the dispute lay, I took particular care to examine the originals of the relevant documents. Admittedly, my command of your language is less than perfect, but as a champion of Tomanâk, I've been well trained in jurisprudence. It took me quite some time to feel confident I'd read the documents correctly, but I must tell you that, in my opinion, Mayor Yalith is correct . . . and you aren't."