In the dining room, only Serephette still lingered, and she made no attempt to carry on a conversation. Senneth made a few general observations and then gave up, willing enough to eat her meal swiftly and in silence.
“Do you know where I might find Cammon?” she asked as she rose to leave.
“He and Jasper are in the library with Bryce,” Serephette said.
“Who’s that?”
“A mystic boy who has provided many fine services to the House,” Serephette said in a haughty voice, as if Senneth couldn’t possibly understand how to value magic. “The king has very kindly agreed to spend a few minutes coaching him.”
“Sounds just like Cammon,” Senneth said. “Is Karryn with them?”
A look of distaste crossed the marlady’s face. “No. She is down at the training yards, where she goes nearly every morning.”
That made Senneth’s eyes widen. “Really? She’s learning to hold a sword?”
“Disgusting behavior for a serramarra,” Serephette pronounced.
“Actually, I think it’s wise,” Senneth said. “I like your daughter more and more.”
Serephette looked doubtful at that, as if approbation from someone as disreputable as Senneth could hardly be a good thing, but Senneth merely smiled, dropped the tiniest curtsey, and left the room.
It was a simple enough matter to exit the house and find the training yards, located on the back lawn near a long, low building that was probably the barracks. Senneth noted with approval that the yard appeared to be well-maintained and that most of the soldiers were using practice blades. Six of the Riders were inside the fence, trading blows with local guards and seeming to enjoy themselves hugely. Senneth assumed the other three were roaming the grounds in the ceaseless effort to keep Cammon safe.
She was surprised to see that Tayse had paired off with Karryn and was walking her through one of the complicated dueling moves that Senneth herself had had trouble mastering. The serramarra was dressed for business, in trousers, a padded vest, and heavy gloves. She listened closely to Tayse’s instructions and experimentally swung her blade. Senneth could tell that Karryn didn’t quite have the hang of it—but she could also tell that Karryn had had a little practice with a sword.
Just then, Justin spotted her and excused himself from his competition with a solidly built man who looked to be about Tayse’s age and rough with experience. He came to lean beside her against the fence that enclosed the yard.
“Look who’s finally awake,” he greeted her.
“I’m a serramarra. I’m used to a life of idle luxury,” she replied.
He nodded in Karryn’s direction. “Not that one,” he said. “She’s been here almost an hour and has been working hard the whole time.”
“I can scarcely contain my amazement,” Senneth said. “Is she any good?”
“No,” he said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that she’s trying. You can tell all her guards are proud of her for even buckling on a vest and getting her hands dirty.”
“How about her guards?” she asked. “They look pretty competent.”
A slight frown crossed Justin’s face and he shook back his blond-brown hair. “Better than competent,” he said. “A couple of them are excellent, and the rest will be soon. Apparently they were all recruited in the past two months when the serra’s uncle decided she needed more protection. They’ve jelled faster than you’d expect from a group of strangers.”
She wasn’t sure why he seemed troubled. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Well, it’s good for Karryn,” Justin said slowly, “but it makes you start asking questions.”
“What questions? What’s wrong?”
He pointed toward the older guard he’d been fighting when Senneth first walked up. “See that man? His name’s Orson. See that move he’s practicing—using his right hand to slash and his left hand to follow through with a knife? That’s a Rider trick. He hasn’t got it quite right yet, but it’s obvious he’s been practicing for a while. Learned it from somebody who knew how to do it.”
Now Senneth understood why he was disturbed. “Who taught him? Did he say?”
He didn’t answer. “And that woman there—Moss. Watch her. See how she dances back out of the way of a blow? It’s a way to counter strength with agility. I’ve seen Janni and Wen pull off that maneuver flawlessly, and a couple other Riders. But no one outside of Ghosenhall.”
“Well—four Riders left Ghosenhall after the war,” she said, though she knew he needed no reminding. Not a single absent brother or sister had ever been forgotten by any of the Riders who had chosen to remain in Amalie’s service. “Maybe one of them ended up in Fortunalt and took a job for serra Karryn.”
He shook his head. “Layne’s in Kianlever and Chottle’s in Merrenstow, and Selt has rented a house in Ghosenhall,” he said. “We know where everyone is, except . . .” His voice trailed off.
Except Wen,
Senneth thought. Her loss had been hard on all the Riders; Justin, for one, had never accepted her absence. She knew for a fact that he had journeyed twice to Tilt, hoping to surprise her at her family’s home, and he had quarreled once with Janni when he accused her of knowing Wen’s whereabouts and refusing to divulge them. He had even badgered Cammon several times, convinced that Cammon—who could track a friend across the kingdom from hundreds of miles away—must surely know where Wen had run. But Cammon had never given Justin much satisfaction. “Wen is where she wants to be” was all he would say.
Senneth studied Justin’s stubborn face. He was the most sarcastic and prickly of her particular band of friends; he was the one who could be counted on to point out your slightest mistake. But Justin, she had learned long ago, was the one who could not bear the idea of misplacing a friend, who could not stand solitude or loneliness. He had lost so many people so early in his life—and he had trusted so few others—that he absolutely refused to part with those to whom he gave his allegiance. It was no surprise he had become a Rider, famed for his devotion to his king. It was more of a surprise that such a position existed in the world, as if tailored especially for Justin’s soul.
“So who taught these Fortunalt guards how to fight like Riders?” she asked again. “Did they say?”
“Apparently their captain—the one who held the auditions and hand selected her team—she’s the one who’s been training them.”
Senneth glanced around the training yard again. There were two women on the field, in addition to Janni, but neither of them was Wen. “Where is she?”
His mouth twisted. “She’s been called away for a few days. Orson says he’s not sure when she’ll return.” Clearly, Justin didn’t believe this.
“Did they describe her? Name her?”
“Willa is what they call her. Orson was vague about her appearance, but Moss talked a little more freely. Small, compact, brown-haired.” He met Senneth’s eyes. “It could be her. It has to be her.”
She glanced over at her husband, now walking Karryn through a fairly straightforward strength move. “What does Tayse say?”
Justin’s face was full of dissent. “He says if it is Wen, she obviously chose not to be here when we arrived and we should respect her decision to stay away from us.”
“And what do the other Riders say?”
A small grin came to his mouth. “They think we should go looking for her.”
Senneth let out a long breath. “Well. This is an unexpected development. I suppose, no matter what, we should be pleased that Karryn is gathering a strong guard around her. Her mother mentioned that she’d been attacked on the road not long ago.”
“Worse than that,” Justin said, and proceeded to relate a shocking tale about an attempted kidnapping.
“I wonder if Cammon knew about this when he decided to set out for the southern Houses?” Senneth said.
Justin shrugged. “Who can ever guess what Cammon knows? But he realized there were outlaws on the southern roads. He might have known about Karryn.”
Neither of them said the obvious.
And he definitely knows if Wen is here, calling herself Willa.
It seemed unlikely, however, that he would break his accustomed silence on this topic to tell them what they wanted to know. “Well,” Senneth said. “Go back to your workout. I’ll see what I can find out from Jasper Paladar.”
Justin shook off his dark mood and gave her a lazy smile. “What about you? Don’t you want to practice this morning, too?”
She glanced down at her dress. “I don’t think I’m properly attired.”
“Probably do the serramarra good to see how well a woman can fight.”
“If this Willa really is Wen, Karryn has already seen a woman fight much better than I’ll ever be able to.”
“A titled lady then,” Justin said. “You must be the best swordswoman among the Twelve Houses. Serra Karryn could profit from your example.”
“I don’t think I’m along on this trip to show off my prowess as a fighter,” Senneth said, picking up her skirts and turning back toward the house. “I’m here to lend some respectability to Cammon.”
That made Justin laugh outright. “Then they got the wrong woman for an impossible job,” he said.
“I agree on both counts,” she said. “But I must go and do my best.”
Chapter 32
WEN WAS BORED AND RESTLESS WITHIN FOUR HOURS OF
checking in to the quiet little inn on a backstreet in Forten City. She had thought she might take the opportunity to relax a little, but she found almost immediately that she couldn’t settle. She’d eaten in the small taproom on the first level of the inn, then retired to her room while it was scarcely a couple hours past dark. Then she just perched on the edge of her bed, too tense to even attempt to lie down and sleep.
If she were at Fortune right now, she would be finishing up dinner at the barracks or heading to the house to consult with Jasper Paladar. If she were at Fortune, she would be looking forward to a night spent in the lord’s bed, laughing and making love.
No, if she were at Fortune right now, she would be face-to-face with nine Riders, enduring their questions or their sympathy or their silent scorn.
For so many reasons, she wanted to be at Fortune.
It was pointless to undress and lie on the bed merely to stare up at the ceiling. So she pulled her boots back on, armed herself with a couple of her more discreet weapons, and headed back out into the night.