Waterdance (2 page)

But she was mage enough to feel an instinctive awareness of the Barrier not far to the north, like an itch she could not quite reach to scratch. If she stood in the saddle and squinted hard, she could see the faint shimmer of the strange magical wall that had guarded the border of Sarkond, allowing no magic to pass between the two countries, since not long after the war. She knew her uncle could feel it, too, as they rode west, parallel to the Barrier, and since his own mage-gift was every bit as uncontrolled as her own, albeit probably much stronger, he doubtless found it just as irritating. Small wonder he’d been in such a foul mood lately.

And, as Peri learned when she made it back to camp, his mood had undergone no improvement in her absence.

“There you are!” Terralt said angrily. “I was just about to send the guards out to look for you.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” Peri said with as much repentance as she could muster. “Tajin was tired and heavy loaded.”

“So I see.” Terralt examined the buck, then gave Peri a smile of reluctant approval. “He’s a beauty.” He waved to one of the guards, who reached for Tajin’s reins.

Peri clung to them stubbornly.

“I’ll take him over to Cook,” she suggested. “Then I’ve got to rub Tajin down.”

“No, you’ve got to wash up and help Kalendra settle in,” Terralt said implacably.

“Sparring after dinner?” Peri bargained.

Terralt sighed.

“Perian, I’ve been riding all day,” he said patiently. “I’m too tired for swordplay. Why don’t you wear out Captain Dorran instead?”

“Captain Dorran’s not nearly as good as you,” Peri said disappointedly. That wasn’t true, not exactly, but Captain Dorran invariably pulled his strokes with her, and besides, flattery almost always won her uncle over. “What about first thing in the morning, while everybody’s striking camp?”

Terralt gave her an impatient glance, then shook his head at last, chuckling.

“All right. First thing. Now go take care of Kalendra, and make sure she eats a good dinner. The Bright Ones know her breakfast will be all over the road within an hour after we leave tomorrow.”

Peri found Kalendra huddled on her pallet, surrounded by maids—one fanning her, one waving a vial of scent under her nose, one chafing her wrists, and two more just generally fussing.

“Go on, go on,” Peri said irritably, waving the maids away. “Get me a cold wet cloth, a hot wet cloth, and the ginger-mint tea Cook will have ready for you. Kala, sit up. I told you a hundred times, it’s worse if you lie down. And I told you to keep your bodice loose if you—”

“Bright Ones, Peri, I’m dying,” Kalendra moaned. “Don’t be cross with me, please.”

Peri took Kalendra’s hands and pulled her upright, then sighed. It was impossible to stay angry in the face of Kalendra’s misery.

“All right, then,” Peri relented. “Lean your head forward.”

By the time the maids returned, Peri had loosened Kalendra’s laces and was rubbing the base of her skull just below and behind her ears. She took the steaming-hot cloth and draped it abruptly over the back of Kalendra’s neck, eliciting a startled yelp; as soon as the cloth started to cool, Peri whisked it away, replacing it with the cold cloth, and Kalendra jumped again, then subsided.

“Oh, Peri, warn me next time,” she said, shivering.

“Better?” Peri asked.

“Better,” Kalendra admitted, accepting the cup of tea and sipping it. “Thank you, Peri. It always works, though the Bright Ones alone know why. If I’d known traveling would do this to me, I’d have asked Stevann for some real medicine.”

Behind Kalendra’s back, Peri made a face. Real medicine. She’d never be a real mage like Stevann. Just enough of one to ruin all her plans.

“Now, tomorrow, don’t lace up tight like that,” Peri said patiently. “Nobody’s going to see you anyway. And when you start feeling sick, hum.”

“Hum?” Kalendra laughed. “Really, Peri! What has music got to do with road sickness?”

Peri sighed and stood up. She couldn’t explain to her cousin how it was that she knew that Kala’s nausea came not from her stomach, but from someplace deep down in her ears; moreover, Kala would never believe her anyway, even though Peri’s suggestions gave her relief. Yet Kala would unhesitatingly drink whatever potion Stevann might have given her, never asking what herbs it contained.

Leaving Kala to her maids’ tender mercies, Peri gratefully joined her uncle at the guards’ fire. She and Terralt had argued
about that briefly the first night; in the horse clans everyone sat as equals around the fires, but among the landed nobility of Agrond and Bregond alike, it was scandalous for an unmarried girl of noble birth to sit at the fire with men, much less common guardsmen. But since Kalendra and her maids preferred to keep to their tent, it was ridiculous to kindle a separate fire for Peri alone, as Peri had patiently pointed out. Besides, before this journey Peri had spent much of her free time with these same guardsmen, sparring with them or just sitting around companionably tending their weapons. Terralt, who disliked the company of commoners, was probably far less comfortable (and, if the guards admitted the truth, less welcome) at their fire than Peri herself.

“Ah, welcome, Per—ah, Lady Perian,” Captain Dorran said, glancing apologetically at Terralt. “That lopa’s a good fat one. Cook’s got the liver for y….” Then his voice trailed off again confusedly, and Peri grimaced.

Captain Dorran was Bregondish, and Bregondish custom dictated that the liver of a kill went to women of childbearing age. But Peri, soon to begin training in magic under High Lady Kairi, wouldn’t be bearing children for many years, most likely. So the choicest part of Peri’s kill, like her betrothed, now went to Kalendra instead. As if Kalendra was likely to appreciate either one!

Peri grimaced. Suddenly the prospect of a jovial evening around a campfire seemed less appealing. She forced a friendly smile.

“I’ll get some later,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Right now I think I’ll have a look at Pechata’s hooves. I thought she was favoring her near hind.”

Pechata’s hooves were fine and nobody was fooled, but Captain Dorran gave her a sheepish smile and a hasty, “Thanks, Lady,” as Peri retreated to her tent and her pallet and, eventually, to sleep.

Peri was up well before dawn, enjoying one of her few quiet practice moments in a small cleared area behind the camp. She’d already inspected her sword carefully, slid the practice guard over the blade, and meticulously performed the lunges and stretches to limber her muscles and the meditation exercises to focus her concentration. Now she worked her way slowly through the defensive qivashim. The Deep Roots qiva and the Bending Willow qiva, those were the ones she’d have the most trouble with, but if—

“I see you got an early start on me,” Terralt said. He was squatting at the edge of the area Peri had cleared, his guarded sword across his knees. To Peri’s relief, he looked more amiable this morning. “What is that you’re doing?”

Peri scuffed her boot in the dirt self-consciously.

“I’m trying to invent a new qiva, an offensive qiva,” she said, flushing slightly. It was presumptuous and she knew it. Only two new qivashim had been invented in Peri’s lifetime, and those by seasoned adepts. “But there are a couple of the defensive qivas which might counter too easily. I don’t know, maybe if I lead in with something else, Leaping Flame or Summer Lightning ...” she shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it just won’t work.”

“Mmmm.” Terralt stayed where he was, his eyes narrowed. “Unfortunately what I know of Bregondish-style swordplay I observed at the wrong end of my sword, Peri. But you have the steel in your blood, and if you think you’ve found something new, I’d like to see it. Show me what you’ve got.”

Peri flushed again, this time with pride at her uncle’s praise. Taking a deep breath, she began the initial steps of the Waterdance qiva, her confidence growing as the movements became more natural; then abruptly she disgraced herself by stumbling and nearly falling in the dirt, barely avoiding the utter humiliation of dropping her sword.

To her utter relief, Terralt only nodded thoughtfully, standing and walking over to join her.

“I can see what you’re working at,” he said slowly. “You want to break your opponent’s rhythm and throw him off balance at the same time. Problem is, I think you’re too daring in your footwork, and you’re throwing your own balance off at the same time. Come on, let’s see what we can do with it.”

Nodding, Peri settled herself in readiness, taking a deep breath, then danced forward to meet Terralt’s attack. They were practicing, not fighting, making no effort at a quick kill, only testing each other’s strengths and worrying at each other’s weaknesses. When they were both adequately loosened up, Terralt gave Peri a nod and fell into a defensive pattern, letting her take the offensive. Although Terralt had never studied the Ithuara and knew only Agrondish-style swordplay, he settled into a well-balanced stance surprisingly similar to Deep Roots—exactly what Peri needed. She fell almost effortlessly into the smooth rhythm of Waterdance, flowing easily around his pattern of defensive strokes, and—

—found herself abruptly on her back, the guarded point of Terralt’s sword at her throat.

Terralt withdrew the sword and held out his hand.

“Not bad,” he conceded. “Your blade work’s almost faultless, although I saw an opening or two you’ll probably close with practice. But your feet are still getting you in trouble.”

Peri took the proffered hand and pulled herself to her feet, brushing dust out of her face.

“All right,” she panted. “Again.”

Waterdance failed twice more, and when Peri grew too frustrated, they switched postures, Terralt taking the offensive. Defensive qivashim were Peri’s weakness, even against the Agrondish propensity to favor an unsubtle attack very like the Charging Boar qiva, but she held forth grimly, varying her defenses so Terralt could not find a pattern to break. Tall Grass against Charging Boar was too easy, he’d see right through that, but maybe Thorny Thicket—

“Uhhhh!” Peri grunted, all the breath driven out of her on a wave of pain as Terralt’s sword slammed into her side just at the bottom of her rib cage. She went down to one knee, still grimly holding on to her sword, and Terralt broke off the attack immediately.

“You think too much,” Terralt panted. “A first-year guardsman could’ve got through that. Too much theory and not enough drive, that’s your problem. Are you all right?”

Peri nodded, momentarily unable to speak. Carefully not clutching her injured side, she forced herself back up to her feet, raising her sword.

“Again,” she gasped.

Terralt sighed and sheathed his sword, stepping in front of Peri and pushing her own sword aside. He pressed gently against Peri’s ribs, muttering an oath when Peri could not suppress a hiss of pain.

“We should’ve been wearing practice armor,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t expect you to let me hit you that hard. You’re bruised right down to the bone. You’re lucky if I didn’t crack a rib.”

“They’re not cracked,” Peri muttered embarrassedly. “A wrapping and a poultice and I’ll be fine.”

Terralt firmly pried the sword hilt out of Peri’s hand.

“Well, you won’t be sitting in a saddle today,” he said. “Just as well. Kalendra can use the company.”

“Oh, no,” Peri said hastily. “I don’t need—”

“You will ride in the carriage,” Terralt said implacably, hefting her sword, “if you want this back.” Then he relented slightly. “If you’re doing well this evening, you can still go hunting.”

Peri ground her teeth, but there was nothing she could do but join Kalendra and her tiresome, fussy maids in the stuffy—“Oh, shutter the windows, Peri! All that wind and dust!”—carriage. Kalendra, however, was overjoyed at the company.

“You’ve had so little time to talk to me since we left Tarkesh,” Kalendra said, her eyes sparkling. “And our conversation will make the hours pass quickly.”

Peri thought miserably that, on the contrary, the journey by
carriage and the maids’ prattle would make the hours drag on interminably, and she was right. Within less than two hours Kalendra had gone from pink-cheeked to pale to ashen to greenish, and Peri knew she would soon be hanging out the window again.

“Tell me about Lord Danber,” Kalendra said determinedly, burying her nose in a scented handkerchief. “Is he handsome?”

Peri scowled. The last thing in the world she wanted was to talk about Danber. No, correction—the last thing in the world she wanted was to have to keep riding in this carriage, to become Aunt Kairi’s wretched Heir, and to have to talk about Danber. She sighed.

“All right,” Peri said. “I’ll tell you about him. If we ride outside.”

Kalendra protested, but Peri held out firmly, and at last the transfer was accomplished. The ride seemed less bumpy up on top of the carriage, although the swaying was worse, and Peri could at least enjoy the sun and wind she loved so much; some of the color returned to Kalendra’s cheeks, too, and under considerable pressure from Peri, Kalendra admitted that the nausea was less.

“So tell me,” Kalendra persisted. “Is Lord Danber handsome?”

Her mood somewhat mellowed by the change in seats, Peri leaned back against the trunks and bags tied to the top of the carriage.

“Handsome?” Peri shrugged. “I never really thought about it. I suppose so.”

“You never thought about it?” Kalendra said disbelievingly. “You suppose so? Peri, you’ve fostered with the man most of your life. By the Bright Ones, you were betrothed to him!”

Peri grimaced.

“Kala, you’re right, I fostered with him. He’s more like—like a brother.” More of a brother than Estann’s been.

“Well, surely you’ve—” Kalendra raised her eyebrows. “You know.”

Peri shook her head, fighting down a giggle.

“Never,” she said.

Kalendra scowled.

“You mean to tell me,” she said slowly, “that you tumbled a common-born apprentice mage, but not your own betrothed?”

“It’s different in Bregond,” Peri said vaguely. “Nobles—even if they’re betrothed—don’t lie together before they’re wed.”

Kalendra shook her head.

“And on your wedding night,” she said impatiently, “how were you going to explain your misplaced virginity to your husband?”