The Warrior's Path (22 page)

I had no time to think about her strange remark. She was still smiling, a sly and dangerous smile. When I first saw her, she was standing at least ten paces from me. Now she drew closer, her steps slow and deliberate, as a wolf approaches a sheep that it has brought to bay. I resisted the urge to back away from her.

“I see that you’re also a thief,” she said.

What in the world could she be talking about?

“I am not a thief.”

Her eyes went to my belt. “Then how did you come by that brooch of Eramet’s?”

“It was a gift.”

“A gift? Who gave you such a costly gift? I think that Eramet did not.”

“No.”

She waited for me to tell her who had given me the brooch. I said nothing. I didn’t want to cause Sparrow any trouble with Vintel, but there was another reason I didn’t speak. Whether or not Vintel believed I’d stolen the brooch, the accusation was a deliberate insult, meant to humiliate me. An angry little flame began to burn inside my chest.

“If you can’t name the giver of the gift,” she said, “then I must believe that you took it from Eramet’s things when I sent you for her grave goods.”

“I did not,” I said.

A sudden gust of wind blew something into my eye. I ignored it. I didn’t want Vintel to think she’d made me cry.

“I gave that brooch to Eramet,” she said. “It should have come back to me. Give it to me now, and I’ll say no more about it.”

She reached out her hand. I didn’t move. I knew that I should give her the brooch, that once I’d given in her pride would be satisfied, but I couldn’t do it. I was too angry.

“You truly are a fool,” she said. She took another step toward me. “In that case, I’ll take back what belongs to me and whip the puppy that ran off with it.”

It was not her words that frightened me. It was her eyes. She was so close now that it was no use trying to run away, even if I could trust my legs to carry me.

Vintel saw my fear, and she enjoyed it. I braced myself to endure what was about to happen.

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Vintel saw it too. She turned in time to see my warrior step out from behind a stone wall that reinforced the earthworks. Maara’s hair lay loose over her shoulders, and the gusting wind whipped it across her face. She tossed it back with a motion of her head that looked like a challenge.

“Whose puppy were you going to whip?” she asked Vintel.

“I believe it’s yours. Would you prefer to whip it yourself?”

“What has she done?”

“She stole a brooch.”

“I don’t think so,” said Maara.

“How did she come by it, then?”

“Perhaps I gave it to her.”

“So,” Vintel said. “You are the thief.”

Maara smiled. “Will you accuse me before the household, or do you only insult people privately?”

Vintel opened her mouth, but she had no answer.

“Have you run out of insults already?” Maara said.

Vintel shut her mouth and glared at Maara. She grasped the hilt of her sword, but before she could draw it from its sheath, my warrior’s body changed, like the body of a hunting cat that spies its prey. Vintel hesitated.

“Yes,” said Maara. Her voice was low, and it vibrated with controlled anger. “Draw your sword. My sword has been hungry for your blood since you let mine be shed.”

Although she wore no armor, my warrior’s sword hung from her belt. For a time that seemed very long to me, she and Vintel faced each other. Vintel’s knuckles went white as she grasped the hilt of her sword, but she made no move to draw it.

“What’s this?”

It was a man’s voice, coming from somewhere above our heads. I looked up and saw Lorin standing atop the earthworks.

“Is there going to be fight?” he said. He squatted down and looked at them appraisingly. “Vintel is bigger, but I think the stranger may be more angry. If you’re going to fight, why not come back inside? It would be a shame for a good fight to go to waste.”

“I don’t intend to fight for your amusement,” Vintel replied. Then she faced my warrior. “Don’t tempt me again.” She turned on her heel and went back inside the earthworks.

Maara looked up at Lorin and gave him half a smile. I glanced at him just in time to see him wink back at her.

“Come,” Maara said to me, and started down the hill.

“A storm is coming,” I said, as I followed her.

“We’ll go back inside in a little while. Let’s give Vintel time to control herself.”

We walked in silence until we reached the river. The memory of Vintel’s contempt and my own fear followed me, and my cheeks burned with anger and humiliation. I thought of several things I wished I’d said to Vintel now that it was too late. I hoped Maara would think it was the cold wind that was making my eyes water and my cheeks red.

Maara brushed the snow off the trunk of a fallen tree and sat down on it. She made room for me, and I sat down beside her. I wondered how she felt about her confrontation with Vintel. She was gazing at the river. She didn’t seem to be at all upset.

“Soon our warriors will return from the ravine,” she said.

“What?”

“Look. The river has begun to freeze.”

I stared at her in amazement. How could she be thinking about the river? Had she forgotten about Vintel?

“Aren’t you angry?”

She turned and looked at me. “No. Why should I be?”

“Vintel insulted you.”

“Did she?”

“She called you a thief.” My heart burned with the injustice of it.

“Yes,” Maara said. “I suppose she did.” She drew her legs up onto the log and turned until she sat cross-legged, facing me. She gave me a long look. “You’re angry.”

“Of course I am.”

“Why?”

How could she fail to understand something so obvious?

“Because Vintel insulted you. And she insulted me.”

I turned away from her as I blinked back tears.

“What did she say to you?”

“She said I was small.”

“You are small.” Her reply took me aback. “Why were you insulted by the truth?”

“It was the way she said it,” I told her. “It was meant to be an insult. And she called me a thief, too.”

“Are you a thief?”

“No.”

“So you felt insulted by something that was true and by something that was not true.”

“I suppose so.” I didn’t understand what she was getting at.

“Why do you care about Vintel’s opinion?”

“I don’t!” I said. “I don’t care what she thinks!”

“Of course you do. Why else would you be angry?”

I couldn’t think of a good answer.

“Shall I tell you why?” she said.

I nodded.

“Because you didn’t know you had a choice.”

“What choice?”

“To be angry or not.”

It was the silliest thing I’d ever heard. “That’s not a choice.”

“Yes,” she said. “It is.” She waited patiently for me to understand.

“How could that be a choice? When someone insults me, it makes me angry.”

“If that’s true, then your feelings will always be at the mercy of others.”

That had never occurred to me.

“Oh,” I said.

In Maara’s face I saw no sign of anger.

“Did you choose not to be angry at Vintel?”

“I didn’t think about it. I was too busy trying to keep something bad from happening.”

“Is that how you kept from being angry?”

“No,” she said. “I wasn’t angry. It took me a long time to learn that I didn’t have to feel what someone wanted me to feel, but once I learned it, it became a habit. It’s a useful habit. Because I wasn’t angry, I was able to think clearly about what was the best thing to do.”

She saw that I was still confused.

“Think,” she said. “A short time ago we were in a difficult situation, one that could have turned out very badly. Now we’re safe and sound sitting here by the river. What happened to bring that about?”

“Lorin showed up.”

“Think back a little further.”

Then I knew, and the memory of her words to Vintel chilled me.

“You challenged her,” I said.

“No,” she said. “Vintel challenged me. She put her hand on her sword, and I tried to convince her that she was doing what I wanted her to do.”

“Didn’t you want her to draw her sword?”

“No,” she said. “That was the last thing I wanted.”

I was confused again.

“Vintel wanted to make me feel fear or shame or anger,” Maara said. “It would have been a victory for her. Instead she allowed herself to be goaded into anger, and her anger made her do something foolish. She knew it was foolish, but she didn’t know she had a choice.”

“What if she had drawn her sword?”

“She didn’t.”

“But what if Lorin hadn’t come along?”

“She would have found another way not to fight.”

“But what if she couldn’t do that?” I insisted. “What if she had made you fight her?”

“Then I would have called on my anger, and I would have defended myself until someone stopped us.”

“I thought it was wrong to be angry.”

“No,” she said. “Not wrong. I would have used my anger to give me the strength and the courage I needed. Vintel couldn’t control her anger, and because of that, it would have been useless to her, just as your anger was useless to you, because it blinded you to what you needed to do to get out of a bad situation.”

I thought about why I had resisted Vintel.

“No,” I said. “I knew what I should do, but my anger kept me from doing it.”

“What was that?”

“I should have given her the brooch. That would have satisfied her pride. Then she would have been able to forget that I refused her, and she would have left me alone.”

“Why didn’t you give it to her?”

“She made me angry.”

Maara’s face grew thoughtful. “You may have used your anger well after all.”

I waited for her to explain.

“Vintel thought you would be so afraid of her that you wouldn’t give her any trouble,” she said. “Instead you showed her that she would have to make good on any threats she made to you. You forced her to respect you.”

“Respect me?” I said. “She was about to take the brooch away from me and punish me for stealing it.”

“She might have taken the brooch, but I don’t think she would have done you any harm.”

I remembered the look in Vintel’s eyes, and even as I sat there, safe beside my warrior, I felt an icy shiver slide down my spine. “I’m not so sure about that. I think she was looking forward to it.”

“I imagine she was looking forward to making you feel how powerful she is. She might have caused you pain, but she wouldn’t have caused you harm. There’s a difference.”

Suddenly she chuckled.

“I doubt Vintel would have found it satisfying.”

“Why not?”

“She could have forced your body, but your spirit would never have submitted to her.”

I heard in Maara’s voice that she was proud of me, and I felt a glow around my heart.

The sun was well up by now, but it was hidden behind masses of dark clouds. The wind gusted stronger and scattered rain around us.

“We should go back,” she said.

We started up the hill. Although we tried to hurry, we had to fight against the wind. By the time we reached the hilltop, we were breathless. Before we went inside the earthworks, Maara stopped and turned to me.

“Stay out of Vintel’s way if you can,” she said, “but don’t make it obvious that you’re avoiding her, and don’t show any fear of her.”

I nodded.

“And don’t go anywhere alone for a while.”

Then I suspected that Vintel had been waiting for an opportunity to confront me. She may have seen me go outside that morning and followed me. But how had Maara known about it?

“How did you know I was in trouble?” I asked her.

“I knew,” she said.

After breakfast I found Sparrow alone in the companions’ loft and told her about my encounter with Vintel.

“Eramet gave me that brooch,” she said. “I didn’t take it from her things. She gave it to me, along with an old cloak of hers. It belonged to me. It was mine to give.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I told her, “but I wanted you to know what happened. I don’t want to be the cause of trouble between you and Vintel.”

“What in the world could have gotten into her? I’ve never known her to do anything like that before.”

“She’s angry,” I said. “She spoke too soon about my becoming her apprentice. Maybe she feels a little foolish.”

That I had chosen Maara, someone Vintel regarded both as a person of no importance and as an adversary, must have made my refusal of her even more humiliating. I didn’t know if anyone had told Sparrow how my warrior had come to be wounded or of Vintel’s part in it. I had no intention of telling her myself. It wasn’t my story to tell, though sometimes I was tempted. If Sparrow was going to be Vintel’s apprentice, she should know the worst about her. On the other hand, Sparrow had little choice but to accept whoever was willing to take her or risk being sent home. What good would it do to spoil her opinion of someone to whom she might owe her loyalty?

Sparrow didn’t question my explanation. “Your warrior showed up just in time?”

I nodded.

“And challenged Vintel?”

“Yes.”

She grinned a wicked grin. “I would have liked to see that.”

Sparrow was cleaning the armor of a warrior whose companion was ill. She had been trying to make herself useful, especially to the warriors who had not yet chosen an apprentice, although we both knew that her best chance was still with Vintel. For a time I watched her work, and the things Maara had said to me that morning came back into my mind.

“What kinds of things did Eramet teach you?” I asked Sparrow.

She shrugged. “All the usual things, I suppose.”

“Did she teach you about anger?”

“Anger?” She thought for a minute. “Eramet never said anything about anger, as far as I can remember.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Why?”

“Maara says that anger is a choice.”

Sparrow laughed. “I hope she teaches you more useful things than that.”

From the companions’ loft I had a good view of the great hall. Maara had been sitting with several of the other warriors before the hearth. When preparations began for the midday meal, she got up and headed toward the stairs. I got up too and went to meet her, in case she needed me. She asked me to find something for us to eat and bring it to her room. In the kitchen I found stew simmering in a cauldron. I took a bowlful for each of us and half a loaf of bread and went back upstairs.