Elyon's Ghost, page 19
Sábria smiled at the shiv since she’d been hoping for a chance to speak with her in private but hadn’t had the time to do so. “Come on up. I’m glad you’re the one who was tapped to bring the food. I’ve been trying to get some time to see how you’re doing with your training.”
When Emlyn caught up to her, the two climbed the remainder of the steps to the second floor, and Sábria opened Shirin’s door. She motioned Emlyn inside and pointed to a small kitchen off to the right. “If you just take the tray in through there, I want to check to see how the Commander is doing.”
Sábria walked into Shirin’s bedroom, where she found her curled on her side, sleeping peacefully. Master Haria had set the injured hand on a pillow to keep it elevated, and it had dropped onto the mattress. Sábria gently inserted her palm beneath the injured hand, readjusted the pillow, and carefully lowered the hand down onto it.
She looked around for a throw pillow and found the size she was looking for on the seat of the wingback chair. She retrieved it and brought it back to the bed, where she pushed it up against Shirin’s elbow and forearm. With the hand elevated and the arm blocked in place, she quietly left the room and shut the door.
Emlyn had set the tray on the table, and when Sábria returned to the kitchen, she peeked beneath one of the domes. “Master Healer Haria gave the Commander a stronger potion than I thought she would, so I seem to have an extra meal.” She picked up a plate and set it at one of the place settings. “Would you join me? This is a perfect opportunity to chat.”
Emlyn wasn’t much for showing her emotions, so even though she’d been trying to avoid Sábria for the simple reason she was afraid the perceptive Arch Priestess would realize how upset she’d been lately, she glanced at the box before reluctantly retrieving the second covered plate. “I’d be honored, My Lady.”
“Excellent.” Lifting the cover off her plate, Sábria checked to see what was on the menu for the evening. “That looks wonderful, and what goes better with a nice chicken than a white wine? Will you join me for that as well?” She put a finger to her lips. “If I remember correctly, you prefer…” she started for the door, “…wait here a moment.”
She returned a short time later, holding a full wine bottle. “As I was saying, if I remember correctly, you prefer a spicy white with strong citrus notes.” She held the bottle out so Emlyn could see the label.
“Itour Edes. My Lady, how did you know this is my favorite?”
Sábria smiled and pointed to a cupboard. “I believe you’ll find two glasses in that one over there.” The kitchen was a modest size since almost everyone took their meals in the dining hall. The cabinet she indicated was hanging between two decorative, arched metal shelves. The tops of the arches met above the cupboard, and each metal sculpture had four multi-level wooden shelves climbing the interior of the arches. Various copper Tuvistian cooking pots, pans, and strainers were set one to a shelf.
Emlyn admired the cookware as she retrieved the wine glasses. “Tuvistian artisans do such wonderful work with the copper from their upper basin. Tomisa had several brought to—”
When Emlyn practically choked on the name, Sábria reached into a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew, which she handed to her. “Would you do the honors?”
Grateful for the change of subject, Emlyn expertly uncorked the bottle and filled both glasses. Setting them and the bottle on the table, she waited politely for Sábria to take her seat.
“When we’re enjoying a private meal together, we can dispense with protocol, Emlyn. Please sit, and we can do without the My Lady when it’s just the two of us.” Sábria didn’t immediately sit. She wanted to see whether Emlyn would unbend enough to relax in her presence.
Having grown up surrounded by royalty, it was second nature for Emlyn to maintain a certain degree of separation between the upper echelons of society and herself. Although no one had been brutal with her, her lessons in decorum had been thorough. “I…would rather not sit while you’re standing, My….” She stopped herself and then ended the sentence without giving the honorific, “…while you’re standing.”
Pulling out her chair, Sábria smiled at the young woman. “Emlyn, we’ve slept in the same bed together. I think that qualifies you to sit in my presence when we’re alone.”
Giving in to the inevitable, Emlyn pulled out her chair and sat. “Why do you allow such familiarity from the lowliest of the low, My La—” Stopping herself mid-word, Emlyn shook her head and stared at her plate.
“Perhaps because I don’t consider a shiv the lowliest of the low. We’re a military order, that’s true. But we’re also a family, and one aspect of living in the Temple that you would do well to embrace is that there are times when we can be informal together. Did Tomisa always sit first when the two of you were alone together?”
“Yes.”
Sábria’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”
The comical look of surprise on the Arch Priestess’ face brought an unaccustomed smile to Emlyn’s normally taciturn features. She looked away and then down at her plate. “Yes, My Lady. Despite being close, being…lovers, we were still Crown Princess and Lead Guard. We found it safer to maintain those boundaries after one time—I believe we were six or seven—when Queen Sintéa was in the room. I accidentally sat before Tomisa did. The Queen had her guards throw me from the room and had them beat me for my impertinence.” Blushing, Emlyn glanced up to make sure Sábria had taken a bite of food before she cut a piece of chicken and brought it to her mouth.
The mention of Emlyn’s former lover was an opening Sábria felt she couldn’t ignore. “Speaking of that, you need to know I received an invitation to Crown Princess Tomisa’s wedding.”
Emlyn’s fork paused briefly before she daintily placed it in her mouth and pulled the chicken from the tines. Without looking at the Arch Priestess, she set the fork down and sat back in her chair. She politely chewed and swallowed before commenting. “I’d assumed that you’d received yours when Emperor Aloric mentioned that he’d received his. Do you plan to attend?”
The question sounded innocent enough, but there was enough repressed emotion behind the words that Sábria knew the conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn for the young shiv. She reached across the table and covered Emlyn’s hand with her own. “I suppose it might have been prudent not to mention it, but I’ve never been one to keep things from my people. To answer your question, no, I don’t plan to attend. I rarely travel outside of Cibía for the simple reason that I can’t afford to be gone for long periods of time. Even traveling between cities to visit the other temples can be complicated, as you saw when Shirin and I were gone for a short time, and Maeira was killed, and Ailith ostracized. Imagine if I had been gone any longer. The damage done might have been irreversible.”
Emlyn crossed her arms, opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again. She wouldn’t meet Sábria’s gaze and tried once more to form the words uppermost on her mind. “Have I…”
Sábria squeezed her hand. “No, I’m sorry you haven’t received an invitation, and even if you had, we’d need to think long and hard about whether it would be prudent for you to attend. When Emperor Aloric asked whether you’d received an invitation, you told him that you didn’t expect to because you’d severed ties with Tomisa. Why do you think you might receive one now?”
Emlyn retrieved her hand and crossed her arms again. “I don’t, really. It’s just that….” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s just that sometimes—” She closed her eyes. “Nevermind. It’s not something I dwell on.”
“Sometimes?”
“It’s nothing, My Lady. Please. Could we—”
“Change the subject? No, we can’t. I’m sorry, Emlyn, but locking your feelings inside is neither healthy nor prudent. Look at what happened the last time you decided to handle your grief on your own.”
Even though Emlyn had been avoiding the Arch Priestess so they wouldn’t have this conversation, she felt a small portion of relief that Sábria cared enough to coax it from her. “Well, you’ll probably think me foolish, but sometimes, I’ll go up into the tower and look out over the bay, hoping and praying that I’ll see the sales of the Kibrunian flagship sailing into the harbor, that Tomisa is returning to me.”
Her gaze flicked to Sábria, and she quickly looked down again. “I know I can never leave the Daughters of Elyon, and I’ll never return to Kibrun, but that doesn’t stop me from dreaming and hoping and praying.” Emlyn reacted to the unexpected tears forming in her eyes by taking up her wine glass and downing the contents. She stood and started for the door.
Sábria, anticipating the move, had already risen and was blocking her way. Despite knowing that Kibrunians rarely like to be touched, Sábria took Emlyn’s face in her hands and forced her to look into her eyes. “I know it’s getting a bit easier for you to accept my touch. May I hold you now?”
Emlyn remained still for a moment. It was true that before she’d arrived in Cibía, the only person she’d allowed to touch her had been Tomisa. But recently, she’d come to appreciate Sábria’s occasional arm squeeze or pat on the back, just as she enjoyed her handler, Killian’s arm around her shoulders after a particularly stressful watch. Nodding hesitantly, she relaxed into Sábria’s arms as the older woman pulled her into an embrace.
“Emlyn, I know that you’ve lost so much, and there’s nothing wrong with grieving. But I’d like you to try something new for me. Can you do that?”
The fabric of Sábria’s uniform felt smooth and soft against Emlyn’s cheek as she nodded.
“I’d like you to focus on what you’ve gained rather than what you’ve lost. Even though she’s your handler, I know that Killian considers you a friend. I also know that there are several Blades who work alongside you who’ve reached out to try to help. You’re always polite in your refusal, but if you continue to keep your distance, I’m afraid they’ll begin to give you the solitude you think you need.”
Sábria pulled her into a tighter embrace. “It’s difficult as a shiv because there’s a natural separation at times between you and the full Blades. You exacerbate that separation by sinking into your grief. Now, instead of pushing them away, when one of them reaches out to you, try to open up to them. They’ve all been there. They’ve all been shivs, and even though they haven’t all been through what you’re experiencing, they’ve all had difficult times at some point in their lives.”
Emlyn pushed away gently and then turned, sat on the sofa, and put her head in her hands.
Sábria sat down next to her, knowing instinctively there was more that needed to be said.
“My lady, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes when we’re working the streets, if we come onto a dangerous situation, I find myself hoping—”
Sábria put her hand on the back of Emlyn’s head. “Oh, Emlyn. I pray that never happens. You’re a wonderful addition to the Temple, and I hope I never have to mourn your loss.”
When Emlyn, who still held her head in her hands, shook her head, Sábria took one of the hands and pulled it down. “Would you do something else for me?”
The question surprised Emlyn enough that she immediately lowered the other hand, stared into Sábria’s eyes, and nodded. “Of course, My Lady.”
“I want you to start thinking about how you can help other people here at the Temple. Look around you and find others who might need a caring word or gesture. It’s something I know you’re good at because I’ve seen you reach out to people who are hurting.”
It was true Emlyn had tried to help Ailith after she’d been bullied, and she’d sat with Jenx for several days in the infirmary after her lover had been killed. She hadn’t realized she’d pulled into herself so much that she’d stopped comforting people who might need a friendly face or a willing ear.
When she saw she was getting through to her shiv, Sábria continued. “For example, I want you to see that most of the time, Ailith sits by herself in the courtyard. And even though I’m aware you sat with Jenx in the infirmary, I don’t think you’ve realized she’s still grieving for Meira. I want you to see that there are other unhappy people here that perhaps you can help. Because when you only look at what you’ve lost, you become blind to the needs of others. Helping others with their loneliness or their loss or grief helps to put your own pain into perspective. Can you do that for me?”
There were times when words spoke directly to Emlyn’s heart, and this was one of those times. “I hadn’t realized I’d stopped seeing the needs of other people. Queen Sintéa believed I had a gift.” she blushed, not wanting to think Sábria might believe her vain, “One time, I found her weeping alone in the gardens. When I dared put my hand on her shoulder, she said my soul saw the hurt in people and that often, even the smallest gestures meant more to that person than I’d ever know.”
Recognizing the blush for what it was, Sábria took Emlyn’s hand and pulled it into her lap. “Everyone has a gift, Emlyn, and it’s important to acknowledge it. I recognized your caring soul shortly after you came to us, and I’ve missed seeing it the last few sevendays. Don’t let grief overshadow that which the Goddess has given you. We, the greater family here in the Temple, need all the gifts she’s brought to us. We need you, Emlyn.”
While Emlyn stared into Sábria’s eyes, the Arch Priestess came to the fore. “The strength of Elyon’s Blades comes from the intertwining of all the various talents and gifts of the women who serve her. She brought you to us for a reason, not so we can change you, but so we can benefit from your strengths, no matter how insignificant you might think them to be.”
She broke the connection by standing and pulling Emlyn to her feet. “So, enough of that. We barely touched our dinner, and I think I saw some chocolate caramel cookies waiting for us at the bottom of the box. In fact,” she walked to the table and pulled out the cookies, “let’s go straight to these. No need to wait!”
Smiling at her Priestess, who knew just how to lift her moods, Emlyn accepted the offering and took a big, satisfying bite.
Returning the smile with a broad one of her own, Sábria lifted her cookie and pointed to the one in Emlyn’s hand with her little finger. “And you didn’t wait for me to take a bite of mine first!” Emlyn gasped at her lapse, which made Sábria laugh out loud. “I’m teasing you, Little One. That bite makes me think you might allow us to be friends after all.”
Looking Sábria in the eyes, Emlyn nodded slowly before glancing down. Very softly, she said, “I’d like that, My Lady. I’d like that very much.”
CHAPTER 21
The following day Sábria had her hands full, making sure Shirin stayed in bed with her hand elevated. Healer Haria had said that if she could have a full day without the hand swelling, the knuckles would still be bruised, but with the swelling reduced, the hand could begin to heal.
Shirin, thinking the precaution silly, had gone out late that morning when Sábria was called away to visit with the family of one of her Blades. It had taken only one candlemark for her to realize Haria wasn’t a Master Healer because she knew how to sing, something she did rather well.
No, after a candlemark, Shirin’s hand had swollen to twice its normal size, and the pain had grown nearly intolerable. When she walked into the infirmary and asked Kara for a potion to take away the pain and swelling, Master Haria interceded. “I’ll help her, Kara. You go check on Ghost, will you?”
Once the other healer left, Haria pointed in the direction of the Sanctum. “Back to bed with you.”
Shirin held up her swollen, aching hand. “I’d asked Kara—”
Haria glared down her nose at the Commander. “I know exactly why you came, and you can forget getting any pain relief from me. I told you to remain in bed with your hand elevated, and what have I seen this last candlemark? The Commander going into the dormitories. The Commander walking to the stables to deal with a problem there. The Commander doing any number of jobs one of your Subcommanders could have handled, so no, you will not receive anything for the pain. You’ll get yourself back to bed, raise that arm, and hope the swelling goes down on its own.” With that, Haria moved to the herb table where she’d been mixing a potion when Shirin had walked in to speak with Kara.
The pain plus the Master Healer treating her like a child combined to ratchet up Shirin’s temper. Angrily pursing her lips to keep from saying something she’d later regret, she turned so suddenly she accidentally rapped her injured hand on a side table hard enough to send pain ripping up her arm. She had exactly two breaths to realize her vision was going dark before she sank to the ground in a dead faint.
Hearing the distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor, Haria looked over her shoulder in time to see Shirin’s head lolling to the side. “Oh, for the sake of the Goddess.” Grumbling about nobles who think they know more than a Master Healer, Haria walked to the door and looked out. “Prime Geller, Guardian Terrowyn. Would you come here, please?”
Sábria had just left Guardian Harkin’s family at the gate to the outer bailey. Picking up the still-smoldering, noxious Tuvistian cigar the father had flicked into the courtyard, she angled toward the trash barrel next to the gate. She happened to glance up in time to see Geller and Terrowyn carrying Shirin through the gate into the Sanctum’s garden. She shook her head and quietly said to herself, “You couldn’t stay down, could you?”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, something that often happened when someone was staring at her. She looked around the courtyard, checking the outdoor dining tables and then giving the dormitory windows a cursory look to see whether anyone was staring at her from their room. Turning a full circle, her gaze finally came to rest on a shadowy figure standing behind one of the columns holding up a porch roof to the right of the portcullis.
