Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) (39 page)
Read Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
Wen was proud of Karryn, who gamely tried any maneuver they described. Within fifteen minutes, the girl was spattered with dirt, and within half an hour, she’d been thrown to the ground and rolled in the mud. She had a smear on her cheek and her dark hair had come loose to hang in her face, but she just pushed it back impatiently and went to work again.
Wen tried not to spend too much of the morning glancing over her shoulder to gauge what Jasper thought of the whole engagement. She supposed that watching soldiers fight had never been the lord’s idea of entertainment, and witnessing his ward trying to fend off an attacker could only make him shudder. Jasper Paladar was made for drawing rooms and libraries, not training yards and battlefields.
He was made to keep company with women who danced and read books, not women who scrapped and fought.
After about an hour and a half of a pretty vigorous workout, Karryn pulled herself to her feet and shook her head. “I can’t do any more, not today,” she said. “I feel like my arms are breaking! And I just can’t think clearly.”
“I can’t believe this is your first time trying to hold a knife,” Davey said. Wen had noticed that the young guard flirted outrageously only when he wasn’t actually touching Karryn. With his hand on her back, he was very professional; with his arms crossed on his chest, his whole demeanor changed. “Girl as beautiful as you should be meek and helpless, but you’d have disemboweled me there if that knife was real.”
Karryn was pleased. “I would have, wouldn’t I? I wanted to!”
Jasper spoke up for almost the first time this morning. “It’s still hard to believe that someone like Karryn could reasonably fend off someone like—well, Orson here. She’s so much smaller and more fragile.”
“Karryn couldn’t,” Davey said. “But Willa could.”
Jasper looked at Wen with his eyes narrowed, as if trying to judge whether that could possibly be true. Wen had the peculiar sensation that that had been his real question all along.
Can someone as little as Willa protect herself from the hazards of the world?
“Could she?” he said.
Can someone as little as Willa protect herself from the hazards of the world?
“Could she?” he said.
“You never saw her fight, but I did,” Karryn said, climbing back through the fence rails and then leaning against them as if unable to support her own weight. “I don’t know if Tover and Darvis were as good as Orson, though.”
“They weren’t.” Wen laughed. “I’d have had a hard time fending off both of them if they were.”
“He doesn’t believe you,” Orson said, glancing between Wen and Jasper. “Shall we give a demonstration?”
This was her punishment for tempting the gods the other night, Wen knew.
Oh, Lord Jasper, why don’t you let me teach you to hold a sword?
And the gods had replied,
Even better. Why don’t you let him watch you do the thing you do the very best?
No matter that now she was self-conscious and ill at ease. She would have to perform, and perform well, for the sake of her own pride and the honor of all women.
Oh, Lord Jasper, why don’t you let me teach you to hold a sword?
And the gods had replied,
Even better. Why don’t you let him watch you do the thing you do the very best?
No matter that now she was self-conscious and ill at ease. She would have to perform, and perform well, for the sake of her own pride and the honor of all women.
“Why not?” she said coolly.
Davey leaned back against the fence, close to Karryn. “Use knives,” he suggested. “Show the serra how much damage you can do if you really know how to wield such a weapon.”
Orson gave a wicked grin and drew his own knife, slim and deadly. “Excellent idea.”
“Practice blades,” Wen said firmly. When she and Orson worked out against each other, neither of them held back. The last thing she wanted was to give or receive a major wound while Jasper and Karryn watched.
“Afraid I’ll hurt you?” Orson said in a taunting voice, but he tossed the knife aside and accepted the practice blade from Davey. Wen borrowed Karryn’s weapon.
“Wouldn’t want to completely embarrass you in front of the man who pays your wages,” Wen responded. “I need you strong and confident, not whipped and hangdog.”
Orson and Davey laughed. Jasper looked appalled. Wen didn’t have long to fret over Jasper’s expression, because Orson lunged straight for her with his blade extended.
She jumped back, ducked low, and bored in, right at his stomach. He spun away and hacked at her exposed neck, but she had anticipated the move and rolled aside. She managed to clip him pretty hard on his right knee, but he caught her shoulder with a glancing blow, spoiling her momentum and making her rethink her next two moves. And again, for he caught her from behind and sent her sprawling in the dirt. From her back, she bucked her hips and caught him in the groin with her heavy boots. Not enough impact; he staggered back, in pain but not incapacitated. She scrambled to her feet and attacked, slicing away at his ribs and his kidneys as he bent half-double and tried to fend her off with one hand. If she’d been wielding a real knife, he’d have been bleeding copiously by this time.
But he wouldn’t have been dead, and there was plenty of fight left in him now. He straightened, whirled, and came right at her, trying to get in an underhanded strike that would allow him to rip his dagger from her belly up to her throat. He made contact. She could feel the tip of the blade through her protective vest, forcing a bruise right above her belly button. He closed the fingers of his free hand in the cloth at her neck and twisted, trying to strangle her enough to keep her from fighting off the motion of his knife hand. It was working; her breath caught and her vision darkened and she had that clear and frequent vision of what it would be like to die.
She dropped her blade, clasped both hands around the arm that was strangling her, and swung up her feet, kicking him in the gut with all her strength. He grunted and released her, wheezing for air. In a single motion, she fell to the ground, rolled, retrieved her weapon, and knocked Orson’s feet out from under him. He tumbled heavily and she pounced, landing in a straddle across his back with her knife under his ear.
“If this was metal, I’d cut your throat,” she said. She was breathing heavily and she felt his ribs working under her knees as he dragged in great gusts of air. “You’re dead, my friend, and you’d better admit it.”
She heard Davey’s voice behind her, excited and admiring. “Did you see that? Did you see what she did with the dagger? She had to throw it away to make her move, but she knew exactly where it went, so she could snatch it up again as soon as her hand was free.”
Orson took another deep shuddering breath and then lay still. For a moment, Wen knew, he had been considering how he could throw her off and continue the fight, but the reality of a knife to the throat had made him reconsider. “I’m dead,” he agreed.
Wen heard Karryn clapping and cheering behind her. “Good for Willa! Does she always win?”
“Near enough,” Davey said. “If Eggles and Orson take her on at the same time, she’ll lose, but other than that, she’s pretty much impossible to beat.”
“How did she get to be so good?” Karryn asked.
Jasper spoke up. “I was wondering that myself.”
Wen came easily to her feet and glanced over at Jasper; he was waiting for an answer. She had never seen his face look so severe.
“Told you,” she said. “It’s the only thing I ever wanted to be good at. So I am.”
Orson laughed, coming to his feet and brushing at the dirt on his trousers. “Still doesn’t really answer the question, does it?” he said. “It’s the only thing I’m good at, too, and—” He shook his head.
“Well, I think Willa is marvelous,” Karryn said warmly. “When should I come back? I want to be as good as she is.”
That made all the guards laugh. “Come back any day you like,” Wen said.
Jasper put an arm around Karryn’s shoulders. “But for now I think you’d best go back to the house and clean up,” Jasper said. “With any luck, before your mother sees you.”
“My mother!” Karryn groaned, and allowed herself to be turned toward the house. She glanced back over her shoulder once to call out her thanks and promise to return as often as she could.
Jasper Paladar, on the other hand, did not look back once. Wen knew, because she watched him until he was out of sight.
Chapter 19
THAT NIGHT, WHEN SHE WENT TO MAKE HER REPORT,
Jasper was not in the library, though the Antonin book lay open on the table where they had left it the night before. Wen stepped back into the hall, considered, and then headed to the study where Jasper could often be found going over estate business. The door was closed, but a knock elicited a response, and she stepped inside.
Jasper was not in the library, though the Antonin book lay open on the table where they had left it the night before. Wen stepped back into the hall, considered, and then headed to the study where Jasper could often be found going over estate business. The door was closed, but a knock elicited a response, and she stepped inside.
Jasper was behind his desk, frowning over a paper. He looked up reluctantly to see who was standing at the door. His expression didn’t change when he recognized his visitor. “Yes?”
His voice was cool, that of master to servant, and Wen took her cue from that. “Nothing special to report today, my lord,” she said. “Davey’s arm is better, no one got seriously injured in skirmishes. Amie has finally learned that maneuver from horseback that I’ve been trying to teach, but no one else has got it yet.”
“Perhaps it’s too difficult for ordinary soldiers to learn,” he said.
As if Wen herself was not ordinary and that was the only reason she’d been able to accomplish it. “No, it’s a good trick. It just takes patience.”
“Well, then,” he said. “Thanks for checking in.”
It was clearly a dismissal. Wen nodded and stepped back outside without another word. Her face was perfectly expressionless, but her mind was in chaos, and she stood outside the door a good five minutes, thinking.
Why could Jasper Paladar possibly be angry at her? She had offered no insult, been derelict in no duty, behaved in not the slightest detail differently than she had since the day she arrived. All that had changed was that she had helped Karryn learn to fight. Had he disapproved of the lessons? Had he thought it unladylike, inappropriate, for Karryn to be wrestling in the dirt, learning to strike and kick and bite members of her own guard? If so, he had had ample opportunity to say so. But Wen didn’t think that was it. He had hugged Karryn after the practice, at any rate, treated her with the same casual affection he always showed her. It wasn’t
Karryn
he thought shouldn’t understand how to fight.
Karryn
he thought shouldn’t understand how to fight.
It was Wen.
She began slowly strolling through the corridors, head bent down, still trying to puzzle this out. Jasper Paladar had never seen Wen handle a weapon before—except in his library when she knocked Zellin Banlish to the ground. But that had hardly been a real struggle. It was mystifying. Jasper Paladar had
hired
Wen because of her ability to fight. The very first thing he’d ever learned of her was that she’d disabled two large men who were trying to kill her. He’d offered her money to impart her knowledge and abilities to others. So why would he be disconcerted—even distressed—even angry—to learn that Wen could destroy an opponent in fair and open combat?
hired
Wen because of her ability to fight. The very first thing he’d ever learned of her was that she’d disabled two large men who were trying to kill her. He’d offered her money to impart her knowledge and abilities to others. So why would he be disconcerted—even distressed—even angry—to learn that Wen could destroy an opponent in fair and open combat?
Maybe he wasn’t bothered by the knowledge itself. Maybe it was
seeing
her engage in full-out warfare, with no restraints, going for the kill—maybe that’s what had bothered him. Maybe he had thought she was a more pristine creature; maybe he had thought battle itself was more dainty.
seeing
her engage in full-out warfare, with no restraints, going for the kill—maybe that’s what had bothered him. Maybe he had thought she was a more pristine creature; maybe he had thought battle itself was more dainty.
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