Oathblood

Table of Contents

 

 

Kethry felt the room drop away from under her, a wash of anger threaten to overwhelm her, and a surge of nameless emotions hit her with a force that made her gasp. Unconsciously, she braced herself on the table, as her family turned to stare at her with varying degrees of surprise and concern.

And for a moment, she didn't recognize what had hit her, it had been so long—

“Need,” she gasped, when she got her breath back. “It's Need! Something's wrong, something horrible has happened—”

“To whom?” Tarma demanded. “Can you tell?”

Kethry shook her head, both in negation and to clear the tears of shock from her eyes. “But it can't be too far away, not more than a day's ride at most, or it wouldn't be this
strong
—”

NOVELS BY MERCEDES LACKEY available from DAW Books:

 

THE HERALDS OF VALDEMAR
ARROWS OF THE QUEEN
ARROW'S FLIGHT
ARROW'S FALL

 

 

THE LAST HERALD-MAGE
MAGIC'S PAWN
MAGIC'S PROMISE
MAGIC'S PRICE

 

 

THE MAGE WINDS
WINDS OF FATE
WINDS OF CHANGE
WINDS OF FURY

 

 

THE MAGE STORMS
STORM WARNING
STORM RISING
STORM BREAKING

 

 

VOWS AND HONOR
THE OATHBOUND
OATHBREAKERS
OATHBLOOD

 

 

THE COLLEGIUM CHRONICLES
FOUNDATION

 

BY THE SWORD
BRIGHTLY BURNING
TAKE A THIEF
EXILE'S HONOR
EXILE'S VALOR

 

 

VALDEMAR ANTHOLOGIES
SWORD OF ICE
SUN IN GLORY
CROSSROADS
MOVING TARGETS

 

Written with LARRY DIXON:

 

 

THE MAGE WARS
THE BLACK GRYPHON
THE WHITE GRYPHON
THE SILVER GRYPHON

 

 

DARIAN'S TALE
OWLFLIGHT
OWLSIGHT
OWLKNIGHT

 

 

OTHER NOVELS:

 

GWENHWYFAR
^*

 

THE BLACK SWAN

 

 

THE DRAGON JOUSTERS
JOUST
ALTA
SANCTUARY
AERIE

 

 

THE ELEMENTAL MASTERS
THE SERPENT'S SHADOW
THE GATES OF SLEEP
PHOENIX AND ASHES
THE WIZARD OF LONDON
RESERVED FOR THE CAT

 

 

^*
coming soon in hardcover

 

And don't miss:
THE VALDEMAR COMPANION
Edited by John Helfers and Denise Little

Copyright © 1998 by Mercedes Lackey

eISBN : 978-1-101-15347-5

 

All Rights Reserved.

 

 

DAW Book Collectors No. 1082.

 

 

 

All characters and events in this book are fictious.

Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

 

 

 

All individual material copyright © by Mercedes Lackey:
Introduction © 1998
Sword-sworn © 1985
Turnabout © 1986
The Making of a Legend © 1990
Keys © 1988
A Woman's Weapon © 1992
The Talisman © 1990
A Tale of Heroes © 1987
Friendly Fire © 1993
Wings of Fire © 1991
Spring Plowing at Forst Reach © 1998
Oathblood © 1998

 

 

 

First Printing, April 1998

DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED
US PAT OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES
—MARCA REGISTRADA

 

HECHO EN U.S A

 

 

 

S A.

This book is dedicated to everyone
who kept asking if we'd do it,
especially my dad.

Tarma and Kethry were created because heroic fantasy was finally “coming of age,” not the least because of people like Marion Zimmer Bradley and her
Sword and Sorceress
anthologies, but I saw two problems.

The first—most of the stories were about brawny C
^*
n
^*
n types, strong like bull, dumb like ox, iron-thewed and not something you'd invite to a nice restaurant. The remainder were equally divided between the incredibly depressing eternally doomed hero type, and the female counterpart to the C
^*
n
^*
n type. Trouble was, the latter seemed to share her male counterpart's taste in women.

Mind you, I have no personal objection to this, but I thought it would be
nice
to have at least one token heterosexual female hero. And hey, not every fantasy hero or heroine has to be as highly sexed as most of the then-current crop seemed to be!

So I invented Tarma and Kethry. Tarma is celibate, chaste, and altogether asexual; Kethry isn‘t, and though she doesn't think with her hormones, she definitely is fond of men.

Two books (three if you count the beginning of
By the Sword)
and many short stories later, things have changed for the better, insofar as there is now a vast cornucopia of books and stories in heroic fantasy, which incorporate a vast spectrum of heroes and heroines, but I'm still glad I invented Tarma and Kethry. Figuring out ways to get them in trouble and getting them out again has been highly entertaining for all concerned.

This is the very first appearance of Tarma and Kethry, and how they met. I distinctly remember presenting this and a second Tarma and Kethry story to Marion in person. The occasion was just before one of her Fantasy Worlds Festival conventions, and I had volunteered to be “go-fer mom”—I was going to see to it that all her eager young volunteers ate and slept regularly. Which I did, with a hammer, when necessary. But beforehand, Marion had invited me to come to her home; I had already sold her my first professional sale (a Darkover story), and I wanted very much to be accepted into the
Sword and Sorceress
anthologies. I brought both manuscripts with me—after first asking permission!—and presented them to her with much trepidation.

“I don't know about the first one,” I said hesitantly. “It's kind of ‘rape and revenge,' and I know you're tired of that.” She just waved me off and took possession of the manuscripts.

Lisa Waters (her secretary and protegée) and I were making tea in the kitchen when “
Damn you, Misty!”
rang out from the living room. Certain that I had somehow offended her, I ran to find out what it was I had done wrong so I could try to make amends.

As it turned out, what I had done was not wrong, but I had presented her with a dilemma. She liked
both
stories, and wanted
both
of them, and could only publish one!

Giddily I told her to hang on to the second one; I was certain there would be a
Sword
and
Sorceress
IV. Since the volume numbers are now up in the high teens, you can see that I was right. The second story was published in Volume IV, and I later sold two Tarma and Kethry books to DAW.

But this is how the two met in the first place.

 

 

 

The air inside the gathering-tent was hot, although the evening breeze that occasionally stole inside the closed tent flap and touched Tarma's back was chill, like a sword's edge laid along her spine. This high-desert country cooled off quickly at night, not like the Clan's grazing grounds down in the grass plains. Tarma shivered; for comfort's sake she'd long since removed her shirt and now, like most of the others in the tent, was attired only in her vest and breeches. In the light of the lamps Tarma's Clansfolk looked like living versions of the gaudy patterns they wove into their rugs.

Her brother-uncle Kefta neared the end of his sword-dance in the middle of the tent. He performed it only rarely, on the most special of occasions, but this occasion warranted celebration. Never before had the men of the Clan returned from the Summer Horsefair laden with so much gold—it was nearly three times what they'd hoped for. There was war a-brewing somewhere, and as a consequence horses had commanded more than prime prices. The Shin ‘a'in hadn't argued with their good fortune. Now their new wealth glistened in the light of the oil lamps, lying in a shining heap in the center of the tent for all of the Clan of the Stooping Hawk to rejoice over. Tomorrow it would be swiftly converted into salt and herbs, grain and leather, metal weapons and staves of true, straight-grained wood for looms and arrows (all things the Shin‘a'in did not produce themselves) but for this night, they would admire their short-term wealth and celebrate.

Not all that the men had earned lay in that shining heap. Each man who'd undertaken the journey had earned a special share, and most had brought back gifts. Tarma stroked the necklace at her throat as she breathed in the scent of clean sweat, incense, and the sentlewood perfume most of her Clan had anointed themselves with. She glanced to her right as she did so, surprised at her flash of shyness. Dharin seemed to have all his attention fixed on the whirling figure of the dancer, but he intercepted her glance as if he'd been watching for it, and his normally solemn expression vanished as he smiled broadly. Tarma blushed, then made a face at him. He grinned even more, and pointedly lowered his eyes to the necklace of carved amber she wore, curved claws alternating with perfect beads. He'd brought that for her, evidence of his trading abilities, because (he said) it matched her golden skin. That she'd accepted it and was wearing it tonight was token that she'd accepted him as well. When Tarma finished her sword-training, they'd be bonded. That would be in two years, perhaps less, if her progress continued to be as rapid as it was now. She and Dharin dealt with each other very well indeed, each being a perfect counter for the other. They were long-time friends as well as lovers.