Part 4 (1/2)

The way no one had thought Isana would ever be able to.

She pressed her lips together and opened her eyes. Enough. There was too much work to be about to let an old pain rise to the surface, now. Thunder rumbled over the Valley's floor, and Isana crossed to the northern window, opened it, and eyed the mountain peak to the north. Garados loomed in all of his surly majesty there, snow already gliding further down his shoulders and toward the valley floor, warning of the coming winter. Dark clouds gathered around his head, and as she watched, they flashed with dark green lightning, sending another rumbled warning across the Valley. Lilvia, then-Garados's wife, the storm fury, gathering up clouds for another a.s.sault on the people of the Valley. She would wait all day, gathering the warmth of the sun into her cloud-herds and then send them stampeding across the Valley in a rush of thunder and wind and, like as not at this time of the year, sleet and icy rain.

Isana pressed her lips together. Intolerable. If only a decently gifted wind-crafter would settle down in the Valley, they might blunt the worst of Thara's storms before they ever reached the stead-holts-but then, any wind-crafter that strong would be serving as a Knight or one of the Cursors.

She walked to the sink and touched the spigot, alerting the furies inside that she desired water from the well. A moment later, it spilled out, cold and clear, and she filled a pair of pans before letting the furies stop the flow of it, then went around the kitchens and refilled the water in the pots that had boiled over. A moment later, she took the bread from the ovens, setting it out in its pans, and slipped the next round of pans into their places. She glanced around the kitchens once more, making sure that everything was in place. The puddle was finished with the floor, so she shooed it out the door to ease into the earth beside the threshold and sink back into the ground.

”Rill?” Isana called. ”What's taking so long?”

The water bubbled and stirred in her scrying bowl (which doubled as her mixing bowl most days), and then three little splashes announced Rill's presence. Isana crossed back to the bowl, drew her braid back over her shoulder, and regarded the surface of the water intently as the ripples stilled.

The fury showed her a dim view from what must have been a stagnant pool somewhere in the Pine Hollows. A murky shape that could have been Bernard paced across the image in the bowl and then was gone. Isana shook her head. Rill's images were not always entirely clear, but it seemed that Bernard and Tavi were still pursuing the missing flock.

She murmured a dismissal to Rill and set the bowl aside-and then noticed a sudden lack of sound from the courtyard. A breath later, the tension levels of Bernard-holt swelled into painful intensity.

Isana steeled herself against the perceptions and walked briskly out of the kitchen. She kept her breathing steady and held herself with rigid confidence. The hold-folk were pressed shoulder to shoulder, facing the center of the courtyard. They were silent, but for faint mutters and worried whispers.

”Kord,” she murmured. Isana stepped forward, and the hold-folk made way for her, clearing a narrow path through the onlookers until she could see the scene in the center of the courtyard.

Two men stood facing one another in the courtyard, and the air between them practically thrummed with tension. Kord stood with his arms folded over his chest, the ground at his feet s.h.i.+fting and trembling. His greasy beard framed his smile sharply, and his eyes were bright and eager beneath his heavy brows.

Facing him stood Stead-holder Warner, a tall man, slender as a post, with gangling arms and legs and a head that shone bold but for a fringe of wispy grey hair. Warner's narrow, chiseled face had flushed bright red in anger, and the air around him quivered and danced like heat rising off an oven.

”All I'm saying,” Kord drawled, ”is that if that little s.l.u.t of yours can't keep her legs together and men out from between them, it's your problem, friend. Not mine.”

”Shut your mouth,” Warner snarled.

”Or what?” Kord asked, throwing a sneer into the words. ”What are you going to do, Warner? Run and hide behind the skirts of a woman and whimper for Gram to come save you?”

”Why you...” Warner spat. He took a step forward, and the air in the courtyard grew detectably warmer.

Kord smiled, a flash of teeth and said, ”Go ahead, Warner. Call it to juris macto juris macto. Let's settle this like men. Unless you'd rather humiliate your little wh.o.r.e by having her testify how she seduced my boy in front of every Stead-holder in the Calderon Valley.”

One of Warner's sons, a tall and lean young man with his hair shorn in Legion-fas.h.i.+on stepped up to his father and took his arm. ”Pa, don't,” he said. ”You can't take him on in a fair fight.” The other two took up a spot behind Warner, while Kord's sons mirrored them behind their own father.

Warner's daughter rushed to his side. Heddy's cobweb-fine hair rose and rippled in silken yellow waves in the heated air around her father. She threw a conscientious look around her, her face flaming scarlet with embarra.s.sment. ”Papa,” she urged. ”No, not like this. This isn't our way.”

Kord snorted at the girl. ”Bittan,” he asked, glancing back at his son. ”You stuck your wick in that skinny tramp? Might as well have gone after one of Warner's sheep.”

Isana had to clench her fists and brace herself against the raw tide of emotions in the courtyard. From Heddy's panicky fear and humiliation to Warner's rage, to Kord's sly satisfaction and eagerness, every feeling washed over her, too intense to ignore. She forced them all away from her and took a breath. Kord's earth fury was a vicious beast, trained to kill. He used it to hunt and to slaughter his cattle. Any fury started taking on aspects of its partner, after a while, but even considering Kord himself, the earth fury was a bad one. A killer.

Isana swept a look around the courtyard. The hold-folk all stood well clear of the conflict. None of them wanted to involve themselves in a struggle between Stead-holders. Crows take her brother! Where was he when she needed him?

The flood of intense anger from Warner grew more harsh-in only a moment more, he would give in to Kord's taunts and take the matter to juris macto juris macto, the Realm's legal form of duel. Kord would kill him, but Warner was too furious at the treatment of his daughter to consider that. Warner's sons, too, were flooding her with a growing torrent of anger, and Kord's youngest son burned with a barely disguised l.u.s.t for violence.

Isana's heart fluttered with all the emotions, piling on top of her own fear. She pushed them all firmly away, struggling to master them-and stalked out into the courtyard, squarely between the two men, and put her hands on her hips. ”Gentlemen,” she said, letting her voice ring out. ”You are interrupting lunch.”

Warner took a step toward Kord, his eyes never leaving the other Stead-holder. ”You can't expect me to stand here and take this.”

Kord sauntered forward a willing pace himself. ”Juris macto,” he said. ”Just declare it, Warner, and we can settle this.”

Isana spun to face Kord, meeting his eyes squarely. ”Not in my my courtyard you won't.” courtyard you won't.”

Bittan, behind Kord, let out a rough laugh and stepped forward, toward Isana. ”Well, well,” he said. ”What we got here? Another little hold wh.o.r.e standing up for wh.o.r.e Heddy?”

”Bittan,” Kord growled, in warning.

Isana narrowed her eyes at Bittan. The young man's confidence, arrogance, and a sickening rush of his l.u.s.t whirled over her like a foul, greasy smoke. She watched him approach, arrogantly smiling as he eyed her, from her bare feet to her long braid. The idiot evidently did not know her by sight.

”Going bad early,” Bittan commented. ”But I bet you'd be good for a tumble.” He reached out a hand to touch Isana's face.

Isana let him touch her for a moment, felt the desperate, arrogant need of the young man to prove himself in his own eyes. She reached up and seized his wrist and then said, voice cold, ”Rill. Deal with this slive.”

Bittan abruptly convulsed and threw himself backward onto the ground. He let out a strangled scream that cut off halfway through, as clear, foaming water burst from his mouth. He thrashed on the courtyard stones in a frantic tangle of flailing limbs. His eyes bulged, and he tried to scream again, nothing but water flooding from his mouth and nose.

Kord's other son rushed to his fallen brother, and Kord himself rolled forward a step with an angry snarl. ”b.i.t.c.h,” he growled. The earth bulged beneath him, as though preparing to lash forward.

”Go ahead, Kord,” Isana said, her voice icy. ”But before you do, I should remind you that you are in Bernard-holt, now. And you may not not challenge me to the challenge me to the juris macto” juris macto” She smiled at him, as sweet and venomous as she could manage. ”I'm not a Stead-holder.” She smiled at him, as sweet and venomous as she could manage. ”I'm not a Stead-holder.”

”I can still kill you, Isana,” Kord said. ”I can still kill you, Isana,” Kord said. ”You could,” Isana replied. ”But then, I wouldn't be able to call Rill off of your boy there, would I?” ”You could,” Isana replied. ”But then, I wouldn't be able to call Rill off of your boy there, would I?” ”And what if I could use one less mouth to feed?” Kord answered her, showing her his teeth. ”And what if I could use one less mouth to feed?” Kord answered her, showing her his teeth.

”In that case,” she said, ”I hope you're ready to kill everyone here. Because you won't get away with cold murder, Stead-holder Kord. I don't care how far we are from the First Lord's justice-kill me, and there won't be a place in the Realm where you can hide.”

Isana promptly turned to Warner and snapped, ”Wipe that smile off your face, Stead-holder. What kind of behavior is this to show to my holders, and their children children?” She stalked toward Warner with a scowl twisting her features. ”I'll have your word that you won't engage in this idiocy again while you're a guest in my home.”

”Isana,” Warner protested, he and his sons still staring at Kord and his own brood, ”that animal on the ground is the one who raped my daughter.”

”Papa,” Heddy sobbed, tugging at Warner's sleeve. ”Papa, please.”

”Your word word, Warner,” Isana snapped. ”Or I'll rule against you in the truth-find right here and now.”

Warner's gaze snapped to Isana, and she felt his sudden shock and surprise. ”But Isana-”

”I don't care care. You can't behave this way in my home, Warner, and my brother isn't here to knock sense into your fool head. Your word. No more of this duel nonsense. No more fighting in Bernard-holt.”

Warner stared at her for a moment. Isana felt the man's dismay, his anger, his helpless frustration. His gaze wavered and went to his daughter, and he softened, almost visibly. ”All right,” he said, quietly. ”My word. For all of us. We'll start nothing.”

Isana whirled back toward Kord, stalking toward the young man still choking on the ground, vomiting water. She brushed roughly pa.s.sed the older of Kord's sons (Aric was his name, she thought), and reached down to lay her hand on Bittan's forehead. The boy had gone beyond thought in his animal panic. There was no arrogance there, now, only a fear so intense that it made Isana's skin feel cold.

Kord sneered down at her. ”I guess you're going to want my word as well.”

”What would be the point,” Isana snapped, keeping her voice low. ”You're sc.u.m, Kord, and we both know it.” Louder, she said, ”Rill. Out.” She stood away as Bittan spluttered and coughed, retching more water out, finally drawing in a gasping breath of air. She left him there, coughing on the ground, and turned to go.

The stone of the courtyard folded over one of her feet with a simple and almost delicate finality. Her heart fluttered with her own fear as she felt Kord's cold anger on her back. She flicked her braid over her shoulder and shot him a look through narrowed eyes.

”This isn't over, Isana,” Kord promised, his voice very quiet. ”I won't stand for this.”