"There are two people out there we can't find," Vahanian snapped. "Damn the reason we're here. We've got to find them. If they're alive, and they're not on our side of the river—"
"Then they're as good as dead already," Jolie retorted coldly. "They're in Nargi hands. Give them up." "No!" Kiara said. "We can't!" "Jolie, I need your help," Vahanian entreated. "To commit suicide? No, cheche," she said, shaking her head. "I won't do that."
"We need a safe place to stay until the horses are ready to ride," Vahanian continued, undaunted. "Dry clothes. Provisions for the ride."
"You're not thinking of going after them, are you?"
"I have to."
"Have you forgotten everything?" She turned to Tris and Kiara. "Jonmarc came to us eight seasons ago, running from the Nargi. He managed my gaming tables, tended my bar, and was the best 'peacekeeper' I ever had. I will not support you if you want to kill yourself, cheche. No. Not Jolie."
Her tirade had no effect on Vahanian. "It's a healer and a bard," he said tersely. "A woman healer."
Tris saw a flicker of something in Jolie's eyes. "So? They're in the Lady's hands. Leave them to Her."
Vahanian's jaw clenched, making the cords on his neck stand out in anger. "Damn you! You know the Nargi. You know what happens to prisoners."
"You seem to have forgotten," Jolie said. "You're not talking about a smuggling run, Jonmarc, in and gone. They haven't forgotten you. You won't come back if you go marching into one of their camps."
"Let me worry about that," he retorted, only a hand's breadth from Jolie's face. "Will you give sanctuary?"
Jolie's eyes narrowed. "What is this woman, that you would die for her?"
Vahanian looked away. "They're friends."
"And for these 'friends' you would sacrifice yourself?"
"She saved my life. What would you have me do?"
"I taught you to survive," Jolie snapped. "I took you in when you ran from shadows, taught you to smuggle, gave you the contacts you needed to live on this river."
"And what did you expect for that? Or did you think you owned me, too?"
"No," she said in a deep, bitter rasp. "Nobody is owned here. Not in my house. Not while I live." The rage drained out of her. "Go then, if you must. Your friends will be safe here. When Arontala is done hunting mages and vayash morn, he'll come for my kind. They always do."
"Thank you," Vahanian said raggedly.
"Sometime, the fledgling flies, hmm, cheche?"
Vahanian gave her a peck on the cheek. "You're first class, Jolie."
"Damn right," she rejoined, and turned her attention back to Tris and Kiara. "Don't mind the little family spat. Jonmarc is used to my temper. Come. There are rooms upstairs where you can sleep safely." She eyed Kiara. "Unless you've got objections to an upstairs room at my house."
"I've marched with an army and camped with mercs," the Isencroft princess replied, settling her hand on the pommel of her sword. "I doubt your house will rival that."
Jolie threw back her head in throaty laughter. "At last! Someone else with a proper attitude!" She slipped an arm around Kiara. "I think we're going to get along just fine. Come with me."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Daybreak found Jolie's place altogether different. The gaming tables stood silent in the morning sun. Where the musicians had played two servants slept in chairs, while a third gathered debris into a basket. Jolie's girls, so elegantly dressed and festive the night before, came to the long breakfast table dark-eyed and yawning, dressed in simple shifts with their hair in plain braids.
Nyall and Kiara sat with the girls, already eating breakfast. Jae perched on the table beside Kiara, much to the girls' delight, eagerly accepting bits of food from any hand that would offer. Even without her armor Kiara could never be mistaken as one of them, Tris thought as he joined them, the smell of breakfast luring him from his sleep. Tanned and lean, Kiara's stance and walk revealed her training even before her sword came into view.
He noted that her sword hung at her belt this morning, a reminder that she felt only somewhat at ease here. Tris guessed that worry had kept her from getting much sleep. She looked haggard and preoccupied. Beside her, Jae nudged a roll toward Kiara's hand as if entreating her to eat, but she ignored the gyregon.
"You don't look like you got much sleep," Tris said as he sat down.
"Hardly any. Not with Carina out there," she said, looking toward the river.
"We'll figure out something. Jonmarc won't have to go after her alone."
"I'd already decided to go with him. Thank you."
"That's out of the question." They turned to see Vahanian.
"We're in this together. We're going," Tris replied.
"No you're not," Vahanian repeated, as Jolie forced a plate into his hands. "For one thing, the only mages in Nargi are priests. They'd spot you and Sakwi before we even crossed the river. And princess, don't take this too hard, but women don't carry swords in Nargi." He swung one leg over a chair and sat. "They've got too many brats clinging to their skirts."
"What about the vayash moru? Kiara asked. "Can they help?"
"Nargi hate vayash moru almost as much as they hate mages. Got magical protections set up all around their camps to keep them away. We wouldn't get within spitting distance of the camp without bringing the Nargi down on us." "You can't go alone," Tris protested.
"I'm safer that way. You don't speak Nargi. You don't know the Nargi. You couldn't pass for one even if the only Nargi you met was deaf and blind. Trust me. I can get in, find them, and be out before you know it. No problem."
Jolie's angry glare made her opinion clear. At the end of the table her girls said nothing, intent on their food. Nyall, too, gave no opinion, looking so determined to stay out of the discussion that he might have built a wall around himself.
"If we can't go with you," Tris said, "then I guess we'll just keep watch to make sure you don't get any unexpected company. We'll help Nyall get the horses and packs ready."
"We'll be on our way in the morning," Vahanian promised, though his voice showed more confidence than his eyes. "Just watch."
By sunset, Jolie's place was crowded once more. Jolie's girls, like finely plumed birds, flitted through the room welcoming the guests. Gaming masters called out numbers, while a bard told bawdy stories to an appreciative audience near the tavern master's table. In the back room, Tris and Kiara watched Vahanian make his final preparations to cross the river.
"I think that's it," Vahanian said, checking his weapons for the fifth time. He wore the uniform of a Nargi soldier, thanks to Jolie, who mentioned something about it having been left behind in haste by its previous owner. Hidden over his body was an assortment of daggers, and his sword hung in its scabbard. He wrapped the dark uniform headpiece expertly, finishing with a trailing piece that covered his face.
"You're lucky the Nargi are in their winter uniforms," Jolie observed from where she leaned against the fireplace. "That scarf hides your face. Good thing. You look as much like a Nargi as I do the Goddess."
"Any other useful comments?" Vahanian asked.
"Jonmarc, take this." In Kiara's open palm lay a pottery chit on a leather strap, stamped with an intricate, strange rune.
Vahanian regarded it suspiciously. "What is it?"