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"Will we leave first thing?" Achan asked. "I'm eager to get to Tsaftown and see the sun again."

"Achan, the sun does not shine in Tsaftown," Sir Gavin said. "The city sits over five leagues west of the Evenwall."

Achan's dark eyebrows wrinkled. "I don't remember that."

"I taught you in a hurry, Your Highness. I apologize for the confusion. We won't see the sun again until Mitspah."

"And we'll go to Mitspah when?" Vrell asked.

"After we build our army in Tsaftown."

Vrell only wanted to know how close they were to Carmine. "So from here we go to Tsaftown, then to Carmine?"

"Nay." Sir Gavin's eyes focused on hers. "From here we pass through Berland, then on to Tsaftown. We'll go to Ice Island first. Once we free our army, we'll go to Carmine."

"How long will all of this take?" Vrell asked.

"I cannot say. Much could waylay us. If all goes smoothly, we could be in Carmine before the fall harvest."

Vrell sucked in a sharp breath at the long journey ahead. "Wh-What season it is now?"

"Early summer," Trajen said.

"And will we raise support here as well?" Vrell asked.

"Nay," Sir Gavin said. "Melas is a dangerous place. The sooner we reach friendly soil, the better. Duke Orson voted for Achan at Council. Berland will be a good place to rest."

"I agree it wouldn't be wise to linger in Melas," Trajen said. "But we have a remnant here that serve Arman. Could you not stay to meet our flock?"

Sir Gavin stroked his beard braid.

"I, for one, would like to stay, at least for Teshuwah," Sir Caleb said. "It's been many weeks since I rested and many more since I've had the opportunity to attend a temple service. It would do us all good. Besides, Achan has probably never experienced a service like ours."

"Strays weren't permitted to enter the temple in Sitna."

"They're welcome here," Trajen said. "Everyone who asks may eat at Arman's table."

The curtain rustled and Ressa appeared. "Your Highness? Your bath is ready."

Achan twisted on the stool and stood. He limped to where Ressa held the curtain aside.

"What say you, Gavin?" Trajen asked. "It's only two sleeps until Teshuwah."

Sir Gavin's gaze followed Achan. "What would our prince like to do?"

Achan stopped, keeping his back to the table. When he spoke, his words were a whisper. "Whatever you think best, Sir Gavin. As long as they don't call on Barthos." He ducked through the opening and his footsteps shuffled down the hall.

18

Sir Gavin's mustache lifted at the ends, indicating a smile, as he watched Achan go. "I think it's best we stay for Teshuwah."

Trajen clapped his hands. "Excellent. I'll be honored to introduce His Majesty to the temple of Arman."

Vrell smiled. It would be nice to stay here a bit longer. She bet Sir Gavin would see to it she got a bath. And she couldn't wait for the Teshuwah service. The last time Vrell worshipped Arman in the company of believers had been last winter in Carmine. She couldn't believe how much longer it would be until she were safely home. Fall harvest…

When Achan finished his bath, Ressa and Vrell went to his room to redress his wounds. Ressa removed several splinters from Achan's arms and legs while Vrell bandaged his feet. Achan sat patiently, hair shaggy around his face, still dripping from his bath. Vrell put ointment on the welts on his wrists and the bites on his nose, cheek, and a bad one in his scalp. She tried to put balm on his chapped lips, but he snatched the jar from her and did it himself.

When Ressa finished, she left Achan and Vrell alone. Trajen had given Achan new clothes and boots. Green looked nice against his dark skin and hair.

Achan stretched his arms above his head. "Pretty lady."

Vrell flushed, then flushed again when she caught his meaning. "Ressa?"

Achan tousled Vrell's hair and laughed. "Do you see any other women around?"

Vrell blinked, annoyed at her misunderstanding. "She's Trajen's wife."

"And he's a fortunate man to have such a wise, hardworking, and beautiful wife."

"I suppose." Vrell scooted back against the wall. "So that is why you sat so still and didn't fuss like you do for me."

Achan grinned, but Sir Gavin ducked into the room before he could answer.

"You're certain you're up for a lesson tonight? We could do this in the morning."

"No. I want to do it now. Please."

"Very well." Sir Gavin moved the basin off the stool and sat down. "Ahh. My weary bones are getting a mite too old for this kind of adventure." He rubbed his opposite shoulder. "So, whenever you try to message, you end up watching?"

Achan shook his head. "No matter what I try, I end up watching. I tried to storm Silvo, and I ended up in his head."

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness," Vrell said, "but you called on Prince Oren and did not watch through him."

"When he helped me fight the black knights. That's true."

"You understand the difference between the different skills?" Sir Gavin asked.

"Well," Achan wiped balm from his bottom lip, "watching is to look through another's eyes. Jumping is when I look through another gifted person to see through the mind they're watching. And I think storming is when I attack the mind attacking mine?"

"Let's put storming aside for now. The most important methods I want you to learn are messaging: sending and receiving conversation, and watching: seeing through another's mind and allowing another to see though your mind. And doing all this while your mind is shielded."

"If I may add something?" Vrell said. "You message people all the time. The problem is, you rarely remember to knock. You simply barge through our shields and we answer. We cannot do that. If a gifted man's shields are up, we must knock and he must let us in before we can speak. I think when you are trying to message, you trick yourself into thinking it is more difficult than it really is. You concentrate too hard and end up watching instead of simply messaging. I suspect you don't need the extra concentration."

Sir Gavin stroked his mustache. "Try it as Vrell suggests. Speak to only me. Will you help us, Vrell? Try to overhear our conversation. And, Achan, do not storm Vrell. Ignore him."

"Gladly."

Vrell sneered at him and concentrated. She found only a slight chill in the air.

Sir Gavin's voice broke the silence. "Well done. Now speak to Vrell and I'll try to break in. Don't storm me, either."

Achan's voice burst into her mind. Can you believe all she does? I mean, I've never had beans and rice together. So simple. Likely inexpensive. I wonder what Poril would have said about such a dish?

Vrell stifled a groan, annoyed at Achan's captivation with Ressa. Can you at least knock before barging your way into my mind, Your Highness? And what is so shocking about beans and rice?

Not shocking. It was just… Do you think Lady Tara can cook?

Vrell rolled her eyes. I doubt it. Tara was more of an artist. What does she have to do with anything?

Sir Gavin clapped his hands once. "Well then? Did you succeed? I could hear nothing."

"We had a delightful conversation, didn't we, Sparrow?"

Vrell averted her eyes. "Riveting."

Sir Gavin tugged his beard braid. "I'd like you both to try watching someone you know isn't gifted. Choose someone safe who would never betray us, should you accidentally speak. And keep in mind, bloodvoicing is a gift from Arman, not a game. Should you intrude upon an intimate moment, please disconnect immediately. Go ahead and try, both of you."