Once they werebeyond the castle walls, Tariel did away with their disguises. Calrain would have been a bit more comfortable if she’d kept it, but he imagined it was draining on her magic, and besides, it was such a dark night that they didn’t really need it. So dark, in fact, they constantly stumbled over roots and potholes as they bumbled along theroad.
“Have we decided which route we’re taking?” he asked, keeping his voice down in case someone else was skulking about in the dark. “There is more than one way to get to theEmpire.”
“I admit that I feel very unprepared to start a new life in a place that worships magic so heavily,” Riann said. “How do the Maroyans feel about people who do not have magic? I do not even speak thelanguage.”
“There are many Maroyans who do not have any magical powers,” Tariel said. “In fact, I would say that most don’t. It is just that magic is revered there, not feared. Zolotais told me that most men do not have magic at all, which is why they prize their mages so highly. They rely on those born with magic to wield it, while the mages rely on their men for strength andprotection.”
“Sounds like a true partnership,” Calrain said admiringly. The idea of men relying on women sounded strange, but then again, did they not rely on them anyway? Women were the only ones who could bear children, after all, and they did many things in the household men took for granted. To have one who could wield magic on top of those things…the possibilities would be endless. If he were a farmer, they would have bountiful crops that would never be stricken by locusts or diseases. If he were a blacksmith, he could create weapons and armor that would never rust. Magic could greatly enhance almost any profession. It was no wonder the Maroyan Empire was a land ofplenty.
“In any case, Zolotais will teach us the basics on our journey,” Tariel went on. “She taught me a bit of the language and about the culture already, so I can help her instruct both of you as we travel. Maroyan is not an easy language, but it is a long journey, and we have enough time to grasp the fundamentals, atleast.”
“I hope so,” Riann said. “I have never attempted to learn another language before, so I have no idea if I’ll be a quick study ornot.”
“We’ll be fine,” Calrain assured him. As a scribe, he’d had to learn the old Fjordland dialect, so he had some experience—though since Maroyan was a completely different language, it would likely be harder. Still, as someone who could already read and write and had an advanced grasp of his own language, he gathered learning Maroyan would be easier for him than it would be forRiann.
Who knew that his bookish tendencies would grow to be anadvantage?
“I did hear something troubling today,” Calrain told the others as his thoughts went back to his last morning in the clerk’s office. “Brother Tersen told the Captain of the Guard that Sir Jerrold the Relentless will be arriving at Castle Tyrook soon. They suspect he is coming to denounce and burn you, Tariel, on Marilla’s word. She is still jealous and bitter about her husband covetingyou.”
Tariel let out a sigh of disgust. “Marilla should focus less on me and more on making her own husband happy,” she said. “I would wager that if she spent less time worrying about me, and more time learning what her husband likes and how to please him, he would quickly forget aboutme.”
“I assume you mean in the bedroom?” Riann asked, sounding amused. “Most women in our country do not have a desert spirit encouraging them to embrace their sexual instincts,Tariel.”
Calrain was certain Tariel shrugged, even though he could barely see her in the darkness. “If they did, perhaps the men would be less concerned with burningthem.”
The three of them fell silent at that. After the wonderful experience Calrain had with Tariel last night, he couldn’t imagine wanting to hurt her or see her burned at the stake. He had a feeling she was right—if more men treated their wives like the precious treasures they were, and made the effort to find real pleasure between them rather than the fleeting satisfaction of a quick coupling, the divide between men and women would lessenconsiderably.
“Anyway,” Calrain went on, “learning of Sir Jerrold’s arrival was what decided me on accompanying you, Tariel. I spoke to Brother Tersen about the witch hunts after the captain left, and he told me that witch hunts were mostly a sham meant to keep the Order rich and the women oppressed and fearful.” His stomach twisted as he remembered the glee in his master’s words as he’d talked of blackmailing families into paying for the safety of their daughters, and looting the belongings of the innocent victims who did get burned. “I could not abide the idea that we knowingly kill innocent women, so I decided that I will never take my vows to Roisen. The storm god must condone such behavior, or the Order would not thrive as itdoes.”
“If Sir Jerrold is after Tariel specifically, we will need to redouble our efforts to be quick and stealthy,” Riann said, a troubled note in his voice. “By all accounts, Sir Jerrold is a fierce and clever man, and quite fanatical in his efforts to seek out and burnwitches.”
“I agree,” Calrain said quietly. This was not just about Tariel’s safety—if they were caught, he and Riann would also burn for aiding and abetting awitch.
“I am sorry to bring you into so much trouble,” Tariel said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “I wish that there had been another way, so that I did not have to drag you into so much danger. But I am a selfish woman, and aside from the ritual being a necessity, it brings me great comfort and joy to have you both at myside.”
She clasped hands with both of them, and a rush of warmth filled Calrain as her small fingers squeezed his. He returned the squeeze, his anxiety fading away. The strength from their lovemaking last night still flowed through his veins, and it had done a great deal to bolster his confidence. In fact, he wondered if he would not have been overcome with anxiety today if not for this new power he felt withinhim.
Tariel made him a better man, there was no doubt about it. There was still fear and uncertainty, but overall, he felt much more certain about himself, and less jealous ofRiann.
“Once we depart Lord Sowell’s, we will have good, fast horses and a head start,” Riann said. “So long as you can disguise us, there should be no reason for anyone to waylay us on the road. If Sir Jerrold should catch up with us, I am more than ready to fight him.” His tone grew fierce, and Calrain imagined his hand was resting on the hilt of hissword.
“Very true,” Tariel said, a smile in her voice. “And they will have me to contend with as well. I doubt Sir Jerrold has actually come face to face with a real Maroyan mage before—it will come as a great shock to him when he has to contend with mymagic.”
Calrain wished he had a similar proclamation to offer, but he feared that his dagger would not be of much use in a battle against a seasoned fighter. And it was not as if Sir Jerrold would be alone—he hunted with a pack of elite knights who were nearly as cruel ashe.
By the time they finally arrived at Lord Sowell’s manor, Calrain was foot sore and sporting a blister on his heel. While his boots were sturdy and good for traveling, he was not used to so much walking—his life as a scribe had not prepared him for it. He wondered if Tariel’s magic could be used for healing, and if it could soothe sore muscles. He had a feeling that by tomorrow, he would have trouble getting back in thesaddle.
“All right,” Tariel whispered as they crouched in the safety of a copse of trees just outside the property. The torches outside the castle provided enough light for them to see the stables clearly. “I’m going to disguise the two of you as Western sea lords. Your presence should be more than enough to intimidate any servants we might comeacross.”
“Western sea lords?” Riann asked, sounding a little incredulous. “Have you ever seen onebefore?”
“Of course not,” Tariel said, amused. “But I’ve heard the stories, same as you. Even if they don’t actually look the way they are depicted, I can at least make us look like the way everyonethinkstheyappear.”
“I wouldn’t mind being a fearsome marauder,” Calrain admitted, a grin coming to his face. Everyone feared and hated the sea lords—they were fierce masters of the sea, and often resorted to piracy to fill their coffers, hitting port cities and bringing down ships. While Calrain did not have a fondness for criminals, the idea of being feared, rather than looked down upon or dismissed, was quiteappealing.
“Then you shall have your chance,” Tariel declared. She placed a hand on his arm, and Calrain shivered as tingles raced across his skin. She did the same to Riann, then to herself, and when they stepped out of the trees, letting the dim light wash over them, Calrain gaped. Riann was a tall, strapping man with long, unruly strawberry-blonde hair and fierce green eyes. Like Calrain, he had a long beard and mustache, wore waxed leather jerkins meant to protect him from the sea spray, and had a large, curved knife sheathed at his hip. There was a small, round shield strapped to Riann’s back, and as Calrain inspected himself, he saw that he had onetoo.
“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d made me a blond,” he said, running a hand over his ginger beard. His red hair had never done him any favors—it was not a common color in Fjordland, and some who saw him automatically treated him with suspicion, thinking he was a foreigner. Calrain sometimes wondered if hewas, in fact, of foreign descent—perhaps one of his parents was from a far-off country, just likeTariel’s.
