and nothing I’ve ever seen or heard’s changed who you were. What you were, maybe, but what’s inside…that’s harder to change. Might be you’ve made some decisions I’d sooner a daughter of mine not make, but I’m one as spends a lot of time around horses-and coursers-and their riders, Young Leeana. Could be I’ve heard a thing or two passing between a certain wind rider I might name and his courser, or between him and his wind brother while they were seeing to their coursers together. And it might just be, you know,” he turned his head, meeting Leeana’s eyes levelly, “I’ve heard a story about why a certain young lady ran away from home that’s not so much like the ones I hear in town.”
“I-”
The dandy brush stopped moving, and Leeana felt a mortified blush sweeping over her face as her throat closed and she literally could not speak. She stared into Greenslope’s eyes, and the stablemaster did something he hadn’t done since she was ten years old. He reached up one gnarled, work-hardened hand and laid it ever so gently against her cheek.
“I’d not want my daughter to make that decision, lass,” he said quietly, “but my heart would fair bust with pride if she did. And I don’t think any lass as had the heart and courage and the love to make it is going to do anything with her life that could ever cause shame to those as love her.”
Tears welled in Leeana’s eyes, and he smiled crookedly, then smacked her cheek lightly with his palm and turned away.
“I’ll just go and see to the manger in Her Ladyship’s stall,” he said, and walked away whistling.
“You look…better,” Hanatha said, regarding her daughter across the table.
Tahlmah Bronzebow had successfully corralled Sharlassa before she could escape at the end of lunch and hauled her off for a session with Sir Jahlahan, leaving Hanatha and Leeana to sit in companionable silence. Now Leeana swirled her glass of lemonade, listening to the gentle clink of a few precious pieces of ice from the spacious Hill Guard icehouse. It was a scandalous luxury, of course, and one she hadn’t sampled in at least six years.
“I feel better,” she admitted, looking up from the glass to meet her mother’s gaze. “I hadn’t really talked with Doram in too long.”
“Ah.” Hanatha smiled faintly. “I wondered if he might take the opportunity to offer you some sage advice.”
“Sage advice?” Leeana tilted her head, looking at her mother quizzically, and Hanatha chuckled.
“Doram Greenslope’s been a fixture of Hill Guard since before your father was born, my dear. And I don’t suppose any Sothoii with a working brain-which does describe your father…most of the time, at least-picks a fool to supervise his stables, do you? Over the years, Doram’s found a way to give quite a few bits and pieces of sage advice to various inhabitants of this castle. Including various inhabitants who happen to be sitting across the table from each other at this very moment.” Her green eyes warmed. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped he might have a few gems to share with you, love.”
“Well, he did,” Leeana acknowledged, feeling her eyes prickle afresh with memory. “And you might want to mention to Father that just because no one else can hear Dathgar when Dathgar talks to him, that doesn’t mean no one can hear him when he talks to Dathgar.”
“So Doram knows the real reason you ran away?” If Hanatha felt any distress over the discovery, she hid it well, Leeana thought.
“He didn’t come straight out and say ‘I know you ran away to avoid that proposed betrothal to Rulth Blackhill, well-known philanderer, lecher, and rapist,’” Leeana said dryly, “but I think he had most of it figured out.”
“Including the bit about running away to prevent your father’s political enemies from using you as a weapon against him?” Hanatha asked softly.
“Maybe.” Leeana looked back down into her lemonade again and inhaled deeply. “No, not maybe. He knows; I’m pretty certain of it.”
“Good,” Hanatha said in that same soft voice, and Leeana looked back up quickly.
“Mother-” she began, but Hanatha’s headshake cut her off.
“Leeana, there’s no one in the entire Kingdom who can see lightning or hear thunder who hasn’t figured out by now that the dearest desire of Cassan Axehammer’s heart is to see your father ruined and-preferably-dead,” she said calmly. “The lines have been drawn for longer than you’ve been alive, and the political battlefield’s changed- changed pretty significantly-since you became a war maid. To be honest, part of that is because you became a war maid, which cleared the way for your father to formally adopt Trianal as his heir. I suppose it’s unfair, but removing you from the succession and settling it firmly on a male heir took the wind out of Cassan’s sails where that whole flank attack was concerned. And then Bahzell had the sheer effrontery to save the survivors of Gayrfressa’s herd from Krahana, after which he and Kaeritha-with the help of your father and a few other wind riders and coursers- settled that situation in Quaysar and Trianal and Lord Warden Festian settled Cassan’s hash in that little campaign of his to ruin Glanharrow. And as if that weren’t enough, there’s this whole new canal project and tunnel your father’s concocted with Kilthandahknarthas and Brandark!”
She paused to take a sip of her own lemonade, then smiled crookedly.
“Darling, if any of us had been able to read the future and know what was going to happen in Warm Springs and in Quaysar, and what Trianal and Sir Yarran were going to do to Lord Saratic’s armsmen, there would never have been any need for you to ‘run away’ to the war maids. I regret that more than I could ever tell you, in many ways. I regret what it’s cost you, and I regret the last seven years that it’s cost your father and me because it was so painful for you to come visit us here.”
Leeana started to protest, but her mother shook her head and raised her hand.
“Leeana, I’ve loved you more than life itself from the day your heart began to beat beneath mine, and so has your father,” Hanatha said quietly. “And, I’m sorry to tell you this, but you really can’t lie or pretend very well to me. Not when I can look in your eyes, hear what your voice is trying to hide. I know exactly why you’ve stayed away for so many years. Perhaps I should have said something about it at the time, but to be honest, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to let you do a little more growing up before you came home to deal with the kinds of looks and attitudes you’re likely to deal with here in Balthar. You were always strong, love, but sometimes it takes a while to grow the armor we need, and you needed the time away from here to grow yours.
“Now I think you have, because when I look at you now all I see is the strength, not the pain. I don’t doubt there’s still hurt in there, because I don’t see how it could be any other way, but you’ve got the strength-and the armor-to watch it bounce off instead of cutting you to the quick. Enough that maybe you’ll realize Doram isn’t the only one of your old friends who’s missed you. And I’m not surprised Doram’s kept your father’s confidence and not broken a few tankards over loudmouthed heads down at the Crimson Arrow when they started talking about the barony’s ‘disgraced daughter.’ I’m sure he wanted to, but he’d never dream of revealing anything he learned in confidence…or by accident, especially if it might hurt the family, however badly his heart might have wanted to tell certain idiots what really happened. And, truth to tell, it was probably a good thing he did, at least for the first few years. But now?”
She shook her head again.
“Now I don’t think your father’s worst enemies could make any capital at all out of the fact that you ‘fled’ to the war maids to prevent Cassan and his cronies from using a forced betrothal to you as a weapon against him. And the fact that you’re a war maid, shocking and appalling as that must be to any decent-minded person”-Hanatha’s irony was withering-“doesn’t worry either of us a single solitary damn.” Leeana’s eyes widened, because Hanatha never swore even the mildest of oaths, but her mother only smiled. “Time and events have moved on, love, and hard as that decision was for you at the time, it simply doesn’t matter now. I don’t care who Doram might choose to share his interpretation of the truth with. In fact, I hope he shares it with everyone in Balthar!”
It was a day for revelations, Leeana thought, feeling the glass of lemonade cold in her fingers. First Doram and now her mother.
Should’ve known better than to think you could fool her, nitwit, she told herself. Your skull always was made out of glass where she was concerned. But I wonder if-?
“I…I don’t think he has to,” she said out loud. “Oh, it matters to me that he knows, and it matters more than I could ever say that you understand why I stayed away. But you’re right, I think-probably more right than I would’ve realized before this moment. I have grown the armor I need; I just hadn’t realized I have.” She smiled,
