But much as it hurt, she refused to let herself look at Erlis in either surprise or pain. And certainly not in anger. She suspected that her reaction to that first, abrupt use of her new name was a test, or at least a part of the training process she was about to begin.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Leeana," Garlahna said after moment. Her voice was deeper than Leeana's, with a musical throatiness. "I hope I can help you settle in here reasonably comfortably."
Leeana did glance at Erlis this time, out of the corner of her eye, and the Hundred nodded.
"Thank you . . . Garlahna," Leeana said then. "I hope I can fit in quickly, but-" she flashed a small smile "-I wonder if any new war maid ever really settles in comfortably."
She heard something suspiciously like a smothered snort from Erlis' direction, and Garlahna grinned. Then she smoothed the smile quickly from her expression and nodded with appropriate sobriety.
"It does come as quite a shock for most of us, whatever we expected ahead of time," she agreed.
"Most of us survive it, though," Erlis put in dryly, and Leeana looked back at her.
"And you'll have your opportunity to begin surviving it first thing tomorrow morning, Leeana," the Hundred continued briskly. "You'll be joining us for calisthenics at dawn. Once you've had a chance to warm up, I'll evaluate the level of your current general physical skills. After breakfast, you'll have your first session with Ravlahn-that's Ravlahn Thregafressa, my assistant arms master-and me. We'll see where you are in terms of self-defense and weapons skills. Then, after lunch," Erlis continued, apparently oblivious to Leeana's reaction, "you'll have an hour or two with Lanitha Sarthayafressa. She's our archivist, but she's also the principal of our school here in Kalatha. She'll evaluate your basic literacy, your math ability, and your general knowledge. That should take you to an hour or so before supper, and you'll be assigned to one of the dining hall crews for that. I'm not sure which of the cooks will be in charge of the kitchen, but Garlahna will be responsible for finding that out and seeing to it that you report in the right place at the right time."
She paused and smiled at Leeana, possibly with a tiny edge of compassion.
"Any questions?" she asked then.
"Ah, no, Hundred Erlis," Leeana replied after a moment spent womanfully throttling the dozens of questions she wanted to ask.
"Good." Leeana thought she might detect a trace of approval in Erlis' eyes, but if she had, the hundred let no sign of it show in her voice or expression. "In that case, I'll leave you with Garlahna."
She nodded briskly, turned on her heel, and strode away, leaving the two young women alone.
Leeana stood gazing at Garlahna while butterflies seemed to circle one another in some sort of intricate dance in her midsection. She felt a fluttery-pulsed uncertainty she was not accustomed to, and none of the social formulae or skills she'd been taught as a baron's daughter offered her any hint about what to do next.
"So, Leeana," Garlahna said before the awkward pause could stretch too long. "I suppose we'd better see about your room assignment and getting you settled in." she smiled. "Trust me-you won't have time to do any of it tomorrow!"
"That's how it sounded to me, too," Leeana admitted with a wan smile.
"Oh, don't let Hundred Erlis' act fool you," Garlahna said cheerfully. "It's lots worse than she makes it sound!"
"Oh, thank you!" Leeana replied, and found herself sharing a tension-soothing laugh with her "mentor."
She stood back mentally to give Garlahna a quick examination. She'd already noted the other young woman's broad, somewhat rustic accent, although Garlahna's grammar was much better than she would have expected from that accent. Garlahna was from somewhere in the eastern part of the West Riding, she guessed, near the Spear River, and her parents had probably been small freeholders, or the retainers of one of her father's minor lords. As such, the social gulf between their births could not possibly have yawned wider, yet Garlahna seemed totally unaware that she was speaking to the only child of the Lord Warden of the West Riding. Which, Leeana conceded, was as it ought to be, because she no longer was her parents' child-not legally, at any rate. But it was still interesting that Garlahna could manage that disassociation between who she now was and who she once had been.
"You're welcome," Garlahna told her, once their shared laughter had eased. Then she waved one hand in a small, dismissive gesture.
"Don't worry about it too much, Leeana. All of us have had to survive it somehow. In some ways, it's almost like a kind of ceremony-a trial by combat, I guess you might call it-before we're really war maids. Actually," she wrinkled her nose as she gave Leeana a critical, evaluating glance, "I kind of suspect you'll do better than most of us. At least you've got the legs for speed, which is more than I ever did. And," she grinned again, "you're nowhere near as top-heavy as I am!"
Leeana felt the very tips of her ears heat and was just as happy her hair covered them. There was, she noted, just a hint of complacency in Garlahna's voice.
"I hope I won't disappoint you," she said after a heartbeat. "But, not wanting to change the subject, or anything, I do have one other question."
"Ask away," Garlahna invited.
"What do I do about my horse?"
"Your horse?" Garlahna sounded surprised.
"Yes," Leeana said. "My horse."
"You've got a horse?" Garlahna shook her head.
"What's so surprising about that?" Leeana asked, her voice just a bit cautious.
"Is it really yours?" Garlahna countered, and for some reason, she sounded even more cautious than Leeana had.
"Of course he's mine. Why?"
"I mean, does he belong to you, or to Baron Tellian?"
"He-" Leeana began, then paused. "He was a gift from my-from . . . Baron Tellian," she said after a long moment. "On my twelfth birthday."
"Did he actually give you its ownership papers?" Garlahna's tone had taken on more than a hint of sympathy, and Leeana shook her head.
"No," she admitted, feeling tears sting the backs of her eyes. "Boots has been my horse for over two years now. Everyone knew it. I guess . . . I guess the Baron never saw any reason why he had to formally present me with his papers."
"Then he's not legally yours, Leeana," Garlahna said gently. She shook her head and reached out to lay a sympathetic hand on Leeana's shoulder. "It happens, sometimes," she went on quietly. "Most of the time when someone gets here with a horse, there's someone chasing her who can hardly wait to take it away again. And it always turns out that legally, she never owned it at all."
Leeana stared at her while she tried to cope with a sudden, vicious stab of pain. She'd known she would be giving up her entire life, everything she'd ever owned and everyone she'd ever known. Yet, somehow, she'd never thought about giving up Boots. He was . . . he was part of her life. Her friend, not "just" her horse. And . . . and . . .
And part of all she'd left behind, she thought wretchedly. She'd managed somehow to overlook that. But perhaps she hadn't overlooked it. Perhaps she'd just pretended that she had. Because deep inside, she'd known-she'd always known. It was just the suddenness of being forced to confront the knowledge, she told herself. The abrupt amputation.
"I-" She shook herself. "I never thought about that," she said in a valiantly normal tone which fooled neither her nor Garlahna. "Do you think I could have a few minutes to tell him goodbye before they take him away?"
"We can ask," Garlahna promised her. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up too much. Your fa-" It was her turn to stop herself short. Her eyes met Leeana's, and she smiled apologetically. "Baron Tellian will probably be in a hurry to head home, Leeana."