No Quarter (6 page)

"That," Liene admitted, "I am concerned about. But if Vree can't control Gyhard, we can. If only for her sake, he deserves a chance."

"For her sake?" Kovar shook his head and dropped into the wood and leather chair facing the desk. He directed a searching gaze at his captain's face. "You sound like Karlene."

Liene spread her hands, the gesture clearly allowing the comparison. "The girl's beautiful, intense, and tragic. I can understand what Karlene saw in her."

"Beautiful, intense, and tragic," Kovar repeated, rubbing the creases out of his forehead, unable to maintain suspicion in the face of his captain's certainty. He sighed deeply. "Then she's just what we need around the Bardic Hall."

"Afraid you'll have the youngsters falling in love?"

He looked up from under his hand and his mustache lifted as his mouth curled into a weary smile. "No. I'm afraid I'll have to spend the next dozen years listening to overheated, overwritten ballads. If there's one thing a bard can't resist, it's a tragedy. You'll be well out of it."

"I'll be retired, not dead," Liene pointed out curtly.

The ends of the mustache lifted higher as the smile grew. "I beg your pardon."

Then he sobered and stood. "I suppose I'd better meet her—meet them— before they're surrounded by healers."

"Kovar."

He paused by the door, turned, and lifted an inquiring brow.

"Remember what Vree said about trust. They
have
to trust us in order for us to learn anything, so we're going to have to offer trust in return. Keep in mind who they were but deal gently with who they are."

Shadow screening her from the courtyard, Vree studied the wall below her second-floor window. *I could get down that,* she said with satisfaction as she straightened.

*Why do you want to?*

*I don't. But I might need to.* Bannon wouldn't have had to ask. Bannon would've understood.
Let it go, Vree
, she told herself sternly.
Even if you'd let
Gyhard die, you and Bannon couldn't have gone back to what you had. You'd
come to know each other too well
.

*You know, talking to yourself seems a bit redundant under the circumstances,*

Gyhard told her dryly, wishing he'd been able to pick the content out of the buzz of thought. *Are you expecting trouble?*

*Expecting trouble keeps you alive.* A squint into the small fireplace showed the chimney too narrow to climb although it appeared to open up into the larger stack just past her fingertips.

*Vree, what are you doing?*

*Checking.*

*For what?*

*Escape routes.*

*But we aren't in any danger.*

*Now.*

Unable to get past the surface agitation to the cause, Gyhard muttered, *You weren't this paranoid on board ship.*

*I understood the rules on board ship. I stay out of the way, I let them do their jobs, they take me where I've paid to go.* The heavy plank door opened in and would be easy to secure from the room. Not so easy from the corridor. *And they don't want us here. Their captain made that plain.*

*They want us, but they're afraid of us. Of you, because you're an assassin. Of me, because I'm outside the Circle.*

*Outside the Circle? What the slaughter does that mean?*

*It's a religious thing. I'm sure they'll explain it,* he added caustically.

*I want you…* She froze, head cocked to one side. *Someone's coming.*

*I hear them, but, Vree, you aren't the only person in the Bardic Hall. Other people will be using the…*

A brisk rapping cut him off.

Vree checked that her knives were accessible, swore softly when she remembered that one of her wrist daggers lay on the seabed in the Broken Islands, and positioned herself where she'd have the greatest freedom of movement should there be a fight.

*Are you going to tell them to come in?* Gyhard asked when the rapping grew louder. *Or wait for them to break the door down?*

*Wait.*

*Vree!*

*I'm kidding.* A quick glance over her shoulder defined the distance to the window, just in case. "Come in."

By all the gods in the Circle, it's true! The girl is carrying two kigh
! Kovar stood in the doorway, fingers clutching the latch, trying to sort out what his eyes told him and what he knew. One slender young woman stood facing him in the center of the small sitting room, but two separate people occupied that space. Until this meeting, he'd dealt with Karlene's incredible tale purely intellectually. Having taken over most of the day-to-day administration of the Bardic Hall, he'd made arrangements for the girl's stay, he'd set up schedules with the healers, he'd worried about bringing both an assassin and a man who'd dared to remove himself from the Circle into Shkoder. Upon coming face-to-face with the unarguable evidence, however, he found himself far more overwhelmed than he'd believed possible.
Two
separate and distinct kigh! What we could learn from this
!

*Would it be rude to tell him to close his mouth?* Vree asked, not sure whether she should be amused or annoyed.

Almost as though he'd heard her, Kovar's mouth snapped shut and he released his white-knuckled grip on the latch, jerking his fist forward. "Kovar."

"Vree." She moved toward him just enough to touch her fist to his, carefully avoiding his gaze. "And Gyhard."

And Gyhard. Two kigh. "Did Liene mention me?"

"Yes."

He couldn't remember her stepping back, but she stood, once again, in the center of the room. "Were you told about the necessities?" How would a male kigh react to a female body? Or was gender a result of physical form?

*Privies,* Gyhard explained.

"Yes."

"And the dining hall?" Would she have to eat enough to sustain two lives?

"Yes." Vree's pulse began to slow as the inane dialogue convinced her this tall, balding man with the impressive mustache was not a threat.

"The bards who have rooms in this part of the hall are all out Walking, so you should have plenty of privacy. If you need anything, just ask." He paused, then added. "Either of you."

"Thank you."

"I have a thousand questions to ask."

Vree waited, the bard's last statement so obvious she didn't think it needed a reply.

About to begin on the first of the thousand, Kovar stopped himself. Something about the young woman's stance, so clearly defensive, reminded him of his daughter the day she'd arrived at the Hall to begin her training, her talent an inheritance from a father she barely knew. Superficial differences between the two disappeared beneath a shared, desperate bravado. It would be distressingly easy, he realized, to lose sight of the needs of one kigh in the wonder over two. "You've nothing to be afraid of, Vree," he said gently.

Startled, Vree looked him full in the face, her need to keep a distance between herself and these strange new people lost in her need to find out just what he meant. He didn't seem to be mocking her. "I'm
not
afraid."

"I beg your pardon." Four years learning to be a father to Olexa as much as many more years of bardic training made the apology believable. If the captain, by her own admittance, had not been welcoming, it was time to remedy that. "The bards and the healers are both very glad that you're here, Vree. You and Gyhard. By allowing us to study your unique kigh, you're doing us a tremendous favor and we'll do everything we can to take care of your problem in return."

"Uh…" To her horror, she started to shake and could feel tears burning behind her lids. *Gyhard, why is he being so nice to me? I haven't done anything for him.*

*You're doing him a favor—he said so himself— besides, he's a bard. They're supposed to be nice.* Gyhard struggled to keep his own emotions under control lest his anger push Vree over the edge. The mere fact that she couldn't deal with someone being unexpectedly nice to her told him more than he wanted to know about her life before he became a part of it. He wanted to grab Kovar by the shirt and shake him until he was sure the bard understood.
Do you see what they've
done to her
?

Behind his gentle smile, Kovar gritted his teeth, certain he saw another intelligence flash for a heartbeat in Vree's eyes; pure animal rage one moment, gone the next. Gyhard. All at once, he thought he understood what Vree was afraid of.
She's carrying a high that's been over a hundred years outside the Circle
.

Before he could say anything—before he had any idea of what to say that wouldn't make her situation even worse—the sound of a gong struck twice filled the building.

"Dinner gong," he explained, amazed at how still Vree had gone. "I'd be pleased to have your company this evening."

Heart pounding, Vree struggled through her confusion and finally nodded.

Anything would be better than facing a roomful of strangers alone.

*Not quite alone.*

*No,* she allowed. *Not quite.*

"So what will it be? Do we arrive late to get the reactions over all at once, or do we arrive early so that you only have to go through it one bard at a time?"

"Reactions?"

"To the pair of kigh." Kovar spread his hands and smiled encouragingly. "I'm afraid there's no way around it, you're going to be the center of attention for a while. Unless you'd rather I had something sent up? You could eat in your room."

"No." Her chin rose. "I don't hide from confrontation."

"Well, with any luck, it won't go any further than acknowledgment."

Considering that Vree's reaction to confrontation usually involved knives, Gyhard sincerely hoped the bard was right.

Three or four heads turned when Vree and Kovar entered the dining hall, reactions turned three or four more and, in a moment, every one of the dozen bards in the room stared openmouthed in their direction.

During the heartbeat of absolute silence, before the babble could begin, Kovar took a step forward. Using enough Voice to hold their attention, he said, "This is Vree, a citizen of the Havakeen Empire who has graciously consented to assist us in our studies of the fifth kigh. Yes, she
is
carrying two kigh and if you must know the whole story, Karlene has sent us a copy of her recall which will be in the library by tomorrow morning. If you have any questions, bring them to either the captain or myself.
Do not pester Vree with
them. Is that clear?"

Heads nodded.

"That said, I expect you to make her feel welcome. She speaks Shkoden fluently…"

*He has a loose definition of fluently,* Gyhard observed.

"… but it wouldn't hurt for some of you to use this opportunity to practice Imperial." His voice lost its overtone of command and picked up a distinct note of amusement as he added, "That's all; enjoy your meal."

Her expression carefully neutral, Vree followed Kovar across the dining hall, skin crawling under the heated focus of a dozen intensely curious pairs of eyes.

Assassins worked unseen and not even the greenest of recruits was fool enough to satisfy curiosity by staring at the blades of Jür. Vree could hear Kovar's footsteps against the plank floor and her own blood roaring in her ears; nothing else.

The silence stretched and grew brittle.

Then a very, very old woman in a wheeled chair leaned toward her neighbor and said, in what she imagined was a whisper, "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

The silence disappeared in the mutual embarrassment that followed. By the time Vree set her plate of cold beef and vegetables on the table across from Kovar, she was the topic of every conversation but no longer the center of attention.

*That's your third old lady.*

*So?* Vree watched Kovar carry a piece of meat to his mouth on the tines of an implement she'd never seen before and carefully imitated his action. *What is this thing?*

*How would I know?*

*You're from Shkoder.*

*A hundred years ago. And I was never in Elbasan and I never actually met a bard before Kars.*

*That's why you're so,* she settled on, *tense. You keep being reminded of Kars.*

*I'm so
tense
because everyone around us would as soon Sing me back into the Circle as look at me.*

*I think you're overreacting.*

*I'm not the one planning to climb up the chimney,* he snapped. He didn't want to be reminded of Kars— not by Vree, not by the bards. Unfortunately, what he wanted didn't seem to matter because every bard he saw reminded him not only of Kars but of how he'd failed him twice; the first time by pushing him into insanity, the second by leaving him there. Gyhard didn't know whether Vree had felt his reaction through their close contact or had come to it on her own; either way he didn't like it much.

*But it's okay if you know what I'm feeling?*

*Stay out of my thoughts, Vree.*

*Strong emotions, remember?*

*You going to answer Kovar's question or sit there like an idiot?*

Vree jerked and found Kovar staring at her from across the table. "I'm sorry.

Could you repeat, please?"

He waved a hand at her plate. "I just wondered how you liked the food."

"The food?" She looked down and realized she'd eaten most of it. "It's, uh, fine.

Better than army cooking." She couldn't actually remember how anything tasted, but it seemed a safe comparison.

"And Gyhard?"

"He tastes what I taste."

Kovar leaned forward, trying not to appear too anxious. "And do you like the same things?"

Conversations died as every bard still in the dining hall waited for her answer.

Vree's ears grew hot. She had no idea what Gyhard liked.

*You never asked.*

*You could've told me!*

She felt the memory of a shrug. *It wasn't important. Besides, I was busy learning about you.*

*What? And I'm not supposed to learn about you?*

Kovar sat back. "I'm sorry; have I started something?"

Before Vree could find the words, the double doors to the dinning hall slammed open and a short, dark-haired figure charged in.

"Is she here? I heard she was here!" Without waiting for a reply, the young woman—girl—swept her gaze across the remaining occupants of the room. Quarry spotted, she flung herself forward, racing to Vree's side, her eyes gleaming. "You
are
here! And you
do
have two kigh! This is so amazingly amazing. When they told me you were coming, I just couldn't believe it. I'd have been here sooner, but I had garden duty this afternoon."