The anger vanished, replaced by surprise—and then, silence. She waited a moment longer, but the sword might as well have been a plain old steel blade at that point. Not that it felt lifeless—but she had a shrewd notion she’d made her point.
“Silence means assent,” she said out loud, and put her glove back on. Then, bending over and retrieving the reins, much to Verenna’s relief, she sent the mare back toward the Tower.
But the last thing she expected was to be met at the stable by Tarma.
The Shin’a’in took Verenna’s reins from her once she’d dismounted, and led the mare toward her stall, all without saying a word. Kero waited, wondering what was coming next. A reproach for not taking Daren up on his offer? That hardly seemed likely. But Tarma’s silence portended something.
Tarma tethered Verenna to the stall, but instead of unsaddling her at once, put a restraining hand over Kero’s.
“I’d have said this within the next couple of months,” she began, “But sending Daren back is just letting me say it sooner. You’re ready, little hawk. Think you’re up to losing the jesses?”
Kero blinked. “To go where?” she asked, after a moment of thought. “Knowing you, you have a plan for me.”
Tarma nodded, her ice-blue eyes warming a little. “Experience is going to be a better teacher than I am, from here on,” she said, “And I’ve been looking around for a place for you for the past couple of moons. As it happens, the son of a good friend of mine just took over a bonded Company. They’re called the Skybolts; they’re scout-skirmishers, like my old Company, the Sunhawks. Lerryn Twoblades is the Captain’s name; he’s got a reputation for honesty, fair dealing, and as much honor as anyone ever gives a merc credit for. He’ll have you, and gladly, if you want to go straight to a Company.”
“And if I don’t?” Kero asked, curious to know just what her options were.
Tarma shrugged. “You could go out on your own, and I have some referrals for the Jewel Merchants Guild caravans, but your skills would be better used in a Company like the Skybolts. You could go home, if you really want. You could go after Daren, you’re even dressed for that,“ she said wryly. “But it’s time for you to go—before you stop wanting to.”
Silence hung thick in the stable; even the horses sensed something was afoot, and weren’t making their usual noise. Finally, Kero nodded. “I thought this would happen in the spring, but I’m ready—or as ready as I’ll ever be. And I’ll go to the Skybolts; I’d have to be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”
Tarma relaxed, and smiled. “I try not to train fools,” she replied. “And—Kero, you’re of the Clan—I want you to take Hellsbane.”
“What?” Kero asked, incredulously. “I can’t do that!”
“Why not?” Tarma retorted. “You’ve been training with her all damned year; you’re better with her than I am. Leave Keth your Verenna—a saddle horse isn’t going to do you much good as a merc, anyway, you’ll spend far too long getting her battle-trained. I’ll still have Ironheart, Keth is never going to need a battlemare again, and to tell you the truth, she’s always been a shade uneasy about riding them. She’ll be just as happy with Verenna, and your girl will be a lot happier with us.”
Warrl appeared like a shadow behind the Shin’a’in. :She’s right, you know. Hellsbane is warrior-trained, like you. It would be a shame for her potential to be wasted.:
Kero shook her head, part in disbelief, part in amusement. “I can see I’ve been outvoted.”
Tarma’s hoarse voice roughened still further with emotion. “You’re kin of my Clan. You’re the closest thing I’ll have to a daughter. You’re my only true protegee. And you’re the best damned warrior I’ve ever trained. I want you equipped with the very best.” Then she smiled, and her voice and eyes lightened again. “Besides, after you see the rest of the gear Keth and I got you, Hellsbane is going to seem like an afterthought!”
Kero found it very hard to speak, or even swallow. “I don’t know what to say—” she began.
Tarma pulled the saddle off Verenna, and led the relieved mare back into her stall. “You can start with ‘thank you,’ and we’ll take it from there. Think you’d be ready to take the road by the end of the week?”
“I—” Kero faltered. “I—”
“If you are,” Tarma continued, “Keth can start the messages out to Twoblades, and we can start fitting your fancy new armor to you so you don’t disgrace us when you get there.”
“I can be ready,” she managed. “As ready to leave as I’m likely to be. I wish—I wish I didn’t have to leave. Or that I could take you with me....”
Tarma snorted. “Not likely. I did my share on the lines. Chick can’t go back in the shell, and a young hawk can’t unfledge. Time for you to try your wings.”
Time for me to see what it’s like out there on my own. Time, maybe, to really live—
“And maybe fly,” she said, thinking aloud.
“Oh, you’ll fly, little hawk,” Tarma answered. “You’ll fly.”