Blood Tempered: Book 1 of the Sword Monk Saga

Blood Tempered: Part 18

"Lady Anya," said the monk, standing. "My name is brother Caida. When your party was ambushed, I was sent to bring you back."

"And now you suspect that was not the true aim of your mission," she replied, smiling at the handsome young man before her.

"Sier Olvera told me that I had actually been sent to, to kill you. But Sier Olvera, it seems, lies a great deal."

Anya regarded the sword monk. He was young, barely out of his teens. With a start, she reminded herself that she could only be a handful of years older then he, at most. But there was an innocence that radiated from the monk that made her think of him as much younger.

Anya had not been innocent for a long, long time.

"The world is not so simple as you Andines would have it," she told Caida. "We are all made up of dark and light. Are you here to rescue me or to kill me? You don't know. Am I evil, or is it just that I will not be bartered away like cattle, forced to marry a man I never met? Does power give one the right to use it? So many questions."

"I admit I do not know what to think."

"Why do you stare at me so, brother?"

He looked away, seemingly embarrassed. "I wonder if you are using magic on me, Lady."

"What sort of spell do you suspect me of casting?"

He turned red. "Some sort of charm," he muttered, and she laughed.

"I am not. I suspect you have not spent much time around the fairer sex, is all."

"Why does Jaga Khun fear you?" the monk asked, changing the subject that obviously made him uncomfortable.

"Jaga believes I will destroy his company. I will spend lives, Andine, and I will not regret the cost. But I do not slaughter needlessly."

"What of the troopers? Did you not slay them needlessly?"

"No. They had to die. Left alive, they would have tracked Jaga Khun's troop down, and torn Thunderhead apart. I couldn't have that."

"You still killed men sworn to protect you."

"They were sworn to deliver goods undamaged to their new owner. I am not chattel."

"That doesn't justify your actions."

"Yes, it does." She poured a mug of wine, sat on the narrow bench. Considered him over the rim of the mug with intent eyes. "Sit, brother. You are injured and fatigued. Sit and let us talk frankly for a space. My neck aches from looking up at you."

After a moment's hesitation, he sat opposite her.

"You yourself have been used in this, brother Caida. Your abbot must have known he was sending you to slay me rather than rescue me. Yet he let you believe Olvera's lie."

"That I cannot believe."

"You prefer to believe that an Andine abbot could be taken in by a huckster such as Olvera? Come now. No doubt that belief is less uncomfortable, but still it is highly unlikely. You yourself must have sensed that his story was—how shall we say it? A bit thin in places."

Caida shook his head. But the look on his face said she was right.

"What do you want from me?" he finally asked her.

"Me? Nothing. I respect you. I can sense your power, your skill. You are as good at what you do as I am at what I do. You are my equal, in a way, which is a rare thing. Rare enough for courtesy."

He shook his head again, like a man trying to dislodge uncomfortable thoughts.

"You are exhausted, brother. Why don't you go up and claim a bed from Jaga Khun? I'll still be here tomorrow if you decide you have to kill me." She smiled. "If you still remain confused, we can talk again. No doubt more questions will occur to you."

"Sleep would be welcome. But I have a question, one that will not let me sleep, I suspect, until I know its answer."

"What is your question?"

"I was not sent here to kill you, Lady. I was sent to rescue you. That was the charge laid on me by my abbot. Tell me, how am I to do that?"

She gazed at him for a long time, smilingly at first, but then she let her mocking smile fade into seriousness.

"There is no one to rescue me from, except perhaps myself." She laid one pale, long-fingered hand on his forearm. "You tell me, brother–how will you and your... greatsword accomplish that?" But her playful double meaning was obviously lost on Caida.

"I do not know," he said simply.

She shook her head, and took her hand away. "Go, brother. Sleep. Tomorrow is soon enough for paradoxes."

He left her, with one last troubled backward glance.

Anya watched him disappear down the darkened corridor. She smiled. She liked this one even more than Korbo Dogrun. It remained to be seen what use she could put him to. He was a tool with bitterly sharp edges. But something in her gave a little warning: This sword monk was not like other men. He was a holy warrior, and while she might use him, or even kill him, she should not trifle with him.

Inside the cell, Olvera began to snore, bringing her thoughts back from an uncomfortable place. With a gesture the cell door unlocked itself and slammed open, and she woke him from his spelled sleep. It was a painful awakening.

She did not enjoy being betrayed. She had believed he would stay bought. She sighed, and with a flick of her fingers pinned Olvera to the wall with invisible, implacable force.

"Once a traitor, always a traitor I suppose," she said to him, and his eyes bulged with fear.

~ ~ ~

When she returned to her chambers, Stench was waiting, playing a game of chess against himself.

"What did you do with the fat one?" he asked, not looking up from the board.

"Who are you to question me? To demand answers?" Just looking at him, let alone smelling him, put her in a cross mood.

"I simply asked a question. I didn't demand anything."

"The traitor is none of your concern. What is you concern is how I take your little expedition beyond Thunderhead."

He sighed. "I take the initiative to go along with Jaga Khun's plotting, to find out what he is up to, and you cast aspersions on my loyalty. You wound me."

"Not yet, I don't. And your only loyalty is to gold."

"Since gold flows from you like a fountain, I know where my best interests lie."

"I hope you do, Heirus. Sincerely. Now leave."

"I thought you wanted to speak with me."

"I have spoken with you. Now go."

He shuffled to the door, then turned back. "What will you do with the Andine?"

"Honestly?" She considered. "I don't know yet."

~ ~ ~

Jaga was not in the great hall. Arle sat at the foot of the throne, waiting for her, absently rubbing the stump where his left arm ended, just above the elbow.

"Jaga's apologies, mistress. His gout is troubling him. He wonders if you would break fast with him in the morning."

A quick flash of anger turned to amusement. Jaga was not one to be bullied or cowed. She would allow him a little more rope, if only to see what sort of knot he would tie. She spoke to Arle over her shoulder as she left the hall.

"Tell him to come to my rooms at sunrise, else he'll have something far more painful to deal with than gout."