Firewalk (3 page)

“I judge this blade well forged,” the High Priestess intoned. “I gift this blade with the heart of fire and consecrate it to the Inner Flame. May it burn true and serve our people well and honorably. May the power of the Flame never fail to answer its call.”

“I accept this
thari
in the service of the Temple of Inner Flame,” Kayli responded. “May we burn as one in truth with the Flame. May I prove a worthy blade, well forged and strong in the service of the Flame and my people.”

Brisi turned the dagger, handing it to Kayli hilt first.

“You will need an edge on that blade,” the High Priestess said. She drew a small rectangle of stone from her pocket and handed it to Kayli. “Every mage who leaves this temple is given a whetstone cut from the blessed stone at the center of the temple. It is a bit premature to give you one, of course”—Brisi smiled—“but there you are. You will, of course, require a sharpened
thari
for your bloodbonding, as your Agrondish lordling will have none.”

“Thank you, High Priestess,” Kayli whispered, slipping the stone into her pocket. She’d make a special pouch for it and prepare a small vial of blessed oil this very night.

“Now go to your family, young one,” Brisi said firmly, “and do not rage so against the path the Flame has burned for you. It is a great calling.”

Kayli bowed.

“Thank you, High Priestess,” she whispered.

Brisi smoothed one hand over Kayli’s hair.

“Fare well, my student,” she said. “Call me when you have mastered the speaking stone, and remember that the Order is not a set of walls you may enter or leave; the Order is a temple to the Flame within yourself. As long as you feed that flame and keep it sacred, you will never leave us, or we you.” She touched Kayli’s cheek. “This blade, too, is well forged.”

“I will remember,” Kayli said steadily. “Fare well, High Priestess.”

When she walked from High Priestess Brisi’s quarters, she did not look back.

****

“There. That’s the last of it” Endra smoothed the wedding dress before she shut the lid of the chest and locked it securely. “It
is
a beautiful gown.”

It was. Kayli had been surprised at the rich, wine-red fabric, so thick and soft, when the seamstresses had begun fitting the gown. She’d never seen anything like it. The seamstresses had told her that Lord Randon had sent it as part of his bride-gift not long after his father had died, along with his reassurances that he intended to honor his father’s wishes in every way. To Kayli’s surprise, one of the gifts was a handsome hunting hawk and ornately carved ebony saddle perch. Lord Randon could hardly have known that before her Dedication, riding and hunting had been her favorite pastimes.

Kayli was reassured by the hawk. So little was known about life in Agrond; Kayli had feared that it was one of the countries where women were kept like slaves and cosseted like sickly children.

More surprising still was the message which had arrived with the bride-gift. Lord Randon had not known which of Elaasar’s daughters he was to marry, but he had addressed the message to his future bride and, judging by the atrocious Bregondish, clumsy script, and childish misspellings, penned it himself—apparently High Lord Terendal had not thought to pay merchants to teach his children the neighboring countries’ languages, as Elaasar had, in hope of future negotiations.

With the greatest of respect and eagerness I await our meeting,
he wrote.
In concern for your safety while traveling, lam dispatching three handpicked companies of my personal guard and my brother, Terralt, to escort you from your home. I pray that you will not be dismayed by the abruptness of this marriage nor by my brother’s manner. I have never much prepared myself to be a husband or a High Lord, but please believe that I will do the best I can on both accounts. That you should not feel dishonored in any way, I have given up all intimate associations and promise that my future conduct will in no way cause you embarrassment. I beg that you forgive my plain speech, but I cannot count scribery among my skills
...

Kayli would have laughed at the clumsy missive were it not for the confusion and upheaval in her life of late. It sounded like something a small boy might write, not a message from such a courtly charmer as Randon was rumored to be. Still, it was kind of Lord Randon to write to her directly. The letter and the hawk warmed Kayli’s heart; it told her that she was being seen as more than simply the means to an alliance.

It occurred to her that Lord Randon had been as little prepared for this marriage as she had herself. Likely he, too, had been certain Terralt would be named Heir. Likely he, too, had made plans of his own for his future. Like Kayli herself, he had no choice but to accept the path which had been laid for him and make the best of it. In that respect at least, they understood each other.

Kayli had insisted on choosing gifts for her husband-to-be herself as well. From the stable she had selected a string of the Bregondish horses so coveted by outland merchants, and she was carving a longbow for Lord Randon. Whether he would have any use for it she could not know—likely he used the Agrondish horizontally mounted bows that shot small bolts instead of arrows—but Bregondish longbows brought good prices in trade to the south, and the very act of the meticulous carving comforted Kayli.

Otherwise her time had been consumed by preparations for her departure, her parents’ instructions in the proper conduct of a High Lady, and the endless fittings of new clothing, as Kayli had discarded most of her secular clothing at her Dedication. High Lady Nerina had fretted that Bregondish garb might be deemed unsuitable in Agrond, but nothing was known of what Agrondish women wore, and the seamstresses were hard-pressed enough to finish sufficient garments of familiar design in the short time before Kayli must leave.

Although Randon’s message encouraged her to bring whatever servants she liked, Kayli had thought to take only Endra. She’d grown unaccustomed to servants at the temple, where novices, Dedicates, and Initiates alike shared in every chore, and in the short time she’d been home, the fussing of the maids already annoyed her. Endra, who had tended Kayli and her sisters since birth, pronounced herself quite capable of taking care of her lady with no help needed, thank you very much, and Kayli had relievedly agreed.

Her mother, however, had not.

“One maid?” High Lady Nerina had scoffed gently. “Kayli, Endra is a treasure, but she is no trained lady’s maid, and as High Lady of Agrond, you’ll require a proper retinue. Lord Randon would simply bring in maids for you, and who knows what sort of girls you’d get then? Household spies, more than likely. I’ll put together a suitable retinue of sensible girls who can keep their heads in a new land. I’d have a groom ready, too, if I’d known you were taking the horses. I pray that your lord has a sensible groom who can keep his fingers from being bitten off until we can send someone.”

High Lady Nerina glanced over at Kayli, who was staring blankly out the window.

“Have you met Lord Terralt?” High Lady Nerina asked.

Kayli shook her head absently. Terralt and his guards had arrived late last night in a great clamor of voices and hoof-beats, and Kayli had fled to her rooms, as if by locking out the envoys, she could lock out her fate.

“I wondered why Lord Randon sent his brother, when Terralt so opposes the match,” High Lady Nerina mused. “Perhaps it’s only intended to absent Terralt from the capital for a time. But perhaps your lord is deeper in thought man we realize. You should have met Terralt when he arrived. It was impolite to shut yourself away up here, and unwise, too, to miss a chance to meet your enemy on your own ground, when he’s dirty and road-weary, too. Well, it’s too late now. They’re all waiting fix you downstairs. You have just enough time for a last good-bye with Kairi before you go, if you hurry.”

Kayli dropped the last of her jewelry in her satchel and closed it, suddenly terrified. She almost bolted down the hall to Kauri’s room, pounding hard on the wood. Before Kairi could answer, she pulled the door open only to see Kairi herself standing there, one hand up as if to grasp the latch, an inquiring expression on her face.

As always, Kairi was so completely everything Kayli wished to be—utterly calm, her dark brown eyes serene, her black hair neatly coiled at the nape of her neck with not one straggling strand out of place, not one wrinkle in her simple gray temple robe. Those dark brown eyes which had always seen through Kayli so clearly saw through her now. Warm fingers closed over her own, Kairi drawing her gently into the room, folding strong arms around her sister while Kayli wept in terror on her shoulder. She clutched Kairi hard, remembering that day four years ago when Kairi had told her that she had been chosen to become a Dedicate of the Order of Deep Waters.

“You will soon be a Dedicate yourself,” Kairi had said kindly. “And you and I will plan our visits home together, just as we have always done. You will hardly see less of me than you do now.” And it had been true. But there was no such comfort to be had now.

Kairi let her weep for a moment, then gently pushed her away, clasping Kayli’s forearms and shaking her gently.

“Kayli,” Kairi said firmly. “You shame yourself and your teachings. You are the mistress of your emotions as you are of your magic, or you are the victim of them. Do you understand?”

Kayli gulped in a deep breath and nodded, impatiently dashing tears from her eyes. Tears were useless, and fear worse than useless. She took another deep breath and forced her hands to stop trembling.

“Why are you so frightened?” Kairi asked gently. “Are you afraid to leave your home? You left it for the temple. Do you fear your marriage, you who chose to walk in the heart of the fire?”

“I fear,” Kayli said slowly, “that I am losing myself. I was born the fifth daughter of the High Lord and Lady of Bregond and I gave that up for life in the Order. I became a Dedicate of the Temple of Inner Flame. That was what I was, who I was. When that is gone, too, who am I?”

“You are the Dedicate, and the High Lord and Lady’s fifth daughter,” Kairi said gently, “and one other who is both, and neither. I wish you had been longer at the temple, Kayli. What you would have learned is that no matter what others teach you, all that you will ever learn was already inside you from the beginning. When you learn to see that, there is no more fear, for whatever is outside yourself is so small compared to what is already inside. Within yourself, all things are possible. Can you understand?”

Kayli sighed. What Kairi said sounded much like High Priestess Brisi’s last words.

“No,” she said. “I pray that one day I will. You mean that you are whole no matter where you are, whether you are far from your family or your temple?”

Kairi nodded.

“Yes, Kayli,” she said gently. “All we need, we carry within us. Take that comfort with you. Nothing has ended, nothing is gone, any more than if you left behind your life as a novice to become an Initiate; only a new journey is begun.”

Kayli understood not a word, but she gave Kairi one final embrace before she turned, rather stiffly, and forced herself back out through the door. She felt calm now, almost numb, as she walked slowly down the stairs, looping the satchel’s strap over her shoulder. At the landing she paused, peering around the corner.

The main hall was thronged with strange-looking men—no women, Kayli noted uncomfortably. Perhaps in Agrond, women were not permitted to become warriors. By the Flame, they were so pale, these Agrondish men, their skins barely gilded by the sun. Some were as familiarly black-haired as any Bregond, but others had lighter brown or even yellowish hair. All had shorn their hair off at shoulder length like a child, and some lacked even a proper mustache, but most, as if to atone for the lack of a proper tail of hair on their heads, had let it grow on their chins. Their matching clothes were apparently uniforms, but the green-colored cloth seemed more suited to festivals than to hard riding on the plains. No Bregond would wear mere cloth leggings for riding through the tall plains grass, nor those silly low, soft boots that seemed mere slippers.

Elaasar stood in one corner, Brother Santee, the family priest, beside him, talking to what must be Terralt, a handsome, tall fellow wearing a surcoat. Suddenly the stranger glanced over at her as if feeling her gaze. Kayli took a deep breath and stepped out onto the landing.

The Agrondish guards fell silent, and Kayli saw the strange lord’s eyebrows raise mockingly, fanning a small spark of anger in her heart. She knew she was not as beautiful as Fidaya, but by Bregondish standards she was lovely, even with her black braids coiled back and hidden under a riding scarf. Her skin, she knew, would be dark gold against the dust-pale cloth of her scarf, strange to their eyes, and her plain, sturdy buff riding jerkin and trousers, her high boots and sturdy leather jaffs covering her legs must look drab to the Agrondish lord.

Kayli felt her back stiffening, her shoulders drawing back. She was a noblewoman of Bregond and Dedicated of the Order of Inner Flame, beautiful enough, and gifted with magic and skilled in the thirty-nine arts of a Bregondish lady. She needed no finery or jewels to make her seem more than she was. If these outland louts wished to stare rudely, let them. Kayli descended the stairs slowly and glided through the crowd of guards as if they were grass to bend aside at her step, giving Terralt and Brother Santee a brief bow before turning to her father.

“I apologize for any delay my slowness may have caused,” she said calmly.

“No matter.” Elaasar smiled. “Brother Santee and I were explaining to Terralt the custom of bloodbonding. Terralt, allow me to make known to you my daughter Kayli. Kayli, I make known to you Terralt of Agrond.”

Kayli turned and gave Terralt the full bow accorded to an equal; until she became High Lady of Agrond, Terralt’s rank was the same as hers. He was even paler than most of the guards, his hair the color of dead grass, but his deep brown-green eyes, sparkling now with amusement, were mesmerizing.