My voice had risen at the last, and the crude obscenity caught at her, as I’d known it would.
Her voice was as sorrowful as her face. “We need Green, who had grown to be heart to all the Blades, though we did not understand that until after we had let you slip away.”
I was forced to remind myself that Mother Vajpai always maintained absolute control of herself. The emotion was a weapon surely as any spinning kick or hand strike. Seizing my own will, I replied, “You did not let me go. You drove me away. Because of your friend out there. Surali. If you find me ungrateful or suspicious, you might inquire of her as to why.”
Mother Vajpai sighed. I watched Samma carefully out of the corner of my eye. If they were playing with me, she would betray the game. And my old lover did look nervous. She flexed her hands, as she always did before a sparring match.
So this is how it is to be.
Still, I could not bring myself to strike first.
Mother Vajpai began to speak again, but I interrupted her. “It is time for me to leave. I have soldiers waiting.” Let her wonder about that. Lily Blades were famously fierce fighters, but we were never expected to stand against men-at-arms in battle formation. That training for us would have been too much for the Street Guild and the other swordsmen of Kalimpura to stomach.
“This is the will of the Lily Goddess, Green,” Mother Vajpai said sternly. Her tone of voice struck deep in me. Had I been raised from birth within the Temple of the Silver Lily, as Samma was, and most of the other Blade aspirants were, it might have disarmed me as readily as a spin-kick to the side of the knee.
As it was, she just renewed my anger. My hand brushed my abdomen. “I know what happens to children there, Mother. I know what happened to me.”
“Copper Downs happened to you,” snapped Mother Vajpai. Her eyes widened as she grasped the significance of my touch. “Ah… Do not bring a child into the world here.”
“Now we know-” Samma began, but Mother Vajpai hushed her with an urgent hand motion.
Now we know what?
Now we know it is time to leave, before more of this game is given away.
It was a mistake to have met privately with them. I could only give thanks to the Lily Goddess that they did not have Mother Argai or another experienced Blade in here. These two I might be able to escape, though I could not hope to best them.
I should not have been surprised at such a betrayal from Mother Vajpai, but Samma…
With that thought, I turned toward the door.
“Green.” The commanding voice again, shifting slightly as she moved. “The Lily Goddess commands this.”
I feinted toward the door’s latch, saying, “The Lily Goddess…” But I was already in motion. A swift spin on my right heel, half a step, a three-fingered jab to Samma’s abdomen to bring her to her knees for a crucial moment.
Mother Vajpai had taken the bait. She crashed into the door I’d just been touching, then came off it again with that preternatural speed I’d always respected and feared in her. By then I was up on the window ledge, swinging a cast-iron lamp base at the mullioned glass. I followed it through in a squeeze so tight the jagged edges tore my robes. My bundle of leathers and belled silk flew free, while the short knives I had tucked within bounced into a bed of peonies just below the window.
I jumped after them even as Samma began to shriek.
Mother Vajpai was quicker, and could either see through walls or knew me very well. Possibly both. She was already in a leaping kick when she cleared the window casing, trailing shards of glass in a glittering fog. I stood to meet her-no time to reach the long knife at my thigh-and took her lead foot in my shoulder instead of my neck or chest.
That spun me around with a crack that sounded like a broken bone. I rolled into a cartwheel and came to my feet on the graveled path beyond the peonies. Mother Vajpai was after me again, this time with my long knife in her hands. I had not even seen her draw it from my scabbard. And I’d never fought her without rules.
No rules?
I stepped into the sweep of the blade, let it score my left biceps, and slammed my head into the hollow at the base of her throat. Then I bit her, digging my teeth in over the pulsing artery.
She had the wrong knife now. One of the short knives she could have reversed, and simply stabbed me. Instead Mother Vajpai was forced to club my left shoulder from behind with the hilt. I felt her blood bloom hot and salty in my mouth and my fingers scrabbled at her short hair, trying to force her head back.
“Halt!” shouted someone in Petraean. The unmistakable hiss of a crossbow bolt narrowly passed us by.
As if we were sparring she slapped me out. The long knife thudded to the gravel path. Mother Vajpai moved swiftly back three strides, pressing a hand tight over her wounded neck. The spaces where her fingers met were marked with carmine lines like claws.
I nodded to her-the courtesy of the training room was not easily broken, even now-and spun to see Kohlmann standing on the path with a crossbow in his hand. He already had it recocked. Where had he gotten the thing? By the Wheel, the man was both fast and strong. I marked that against future need. The Prince’s guards were spread out behind him with weapons drawn, while the protocol master looked to be at mortal risk of apoplexy.
Samma stumbled out of the house behind them, her face sick with what might have been regret. Or perhaps just nausea, given where I’d kicked her.
“I believe I am ready to depart,” I told Kohlmann in my most even voice.
The guards looked to the protocol master- not to Mother Vajpai, I noticed-who nodded wearily. I turned back to face my old teacher. The vicious glint in her eye nearly sent me away without speaking, but I could not just let loose of this.
“Had you asked me as an equal,” I said softly, “you might have heard a different answer.”
Her reply came as I reached for my scattered knives, abandoned leathers, and belled silk, voice pitched so soft and low that only I could hear it. “I am sorry.”
Walking away from her, Kohlmann kept his body between me and the house. Looking past him, I saw why. The Bittern Court woman-no, Surali . Surali stood in the doorway with an expression that could have curdled kava.
She was the key to this drama. What threat had the Bittern Court held over the Temple of the Silver Lily to force all that must have unfolded?
Moot now. I could not afford to care. Not even bothering to meet Samma’s eye, I walked down the path with Kohlmann.
“They will not shoot us down,” he said.
That did not deserve any answer whatsoever, so I gave it none. As we passed the gate, he fired the crossbow’s next bolt into the trees, then handed the empty weapon to the peacock-guard. Mother Argai gave me a strange look indeed, one that after a moment I deciphered as grudging respect.
“Green,” Kohlmann said as we walked easily back down Richard Avenue. By the goddess, this man was a coolheaded one. “We must speak of this as soon as possible. You very nearly launched a war back there.”
“Councilor,” I began as we turned the corner onto Knightspark Street. Out of sight of Mother Argai, I put every ounce of my strength into running. I let the pains in my back and the open wound in my arm and the ache in my shoulder and roiling of the baby and the dissolution of my stomach all pour into the pavement, feet slamming one after the other as the loosened silk jingled. He shouted once, but did not give chase.
I did not care. All I wanted was to be free for a while. Even Below would have been too limiting. So I ran. I ran as if the wind were at my heels. I ran as if I were the wind. I ran as if my very life depended on it, though blood slicked and stinging, my arms and my back threatened to collapse like poorly handled souffle.