"I didn't say that, Milord. On the other hand, and without wanting to sound paranoid, Bahzell and I are champions of one of the Gods of Light. Tomanâk doesn't have that many of us, either, so we tend not to get wasted on easy tasks." She grimaced so wryly that Tellian chuckled. "Of course, a great deal of what we do in the world requires us to deal with purely mortal problems, but we do see rather more of the Dark Gods and their handiwork than most people do. And the Dark Gods are quite accomplished at concealing their presence and influence."
"Like Sharnā in Navahk," Brandark agreed grimly.
"Well, yes, but -" Tellian began, then stopped. His three guests looked at him expressionlessly, and he had the grace to blush.
"Forgive me," he said. "I was about to say that that was among hradani, not Sothōii. But I suppose that sort of 'It couldn't possibly happen to us' thinking is what does let it happen, isn't it?"
"It's certainly a part of it," Kaeritha said. "But infections are always hard to see before they rise to the surface." She shrugged. "One of a champion's functions is to bring things to a head and clean the wound before it gets so bad that the only alternative is amputation, Milord."
"A charming analogy." Tellian grimaced, but it was obvious he was thinking hard. He leaned back in his chair, the fingers of his right hand drumming on the armrest, and distant thunder rolled and rumbled beyond the library while he pondered.
"I still can't think of anything that seems serious enough to require a champion," he said finally. "But as you and Bahzell-and Brandark-have all just pointed out, that doesn't necessarily mean as much as I'd like to think, so I've been trying to come up with anything that may have seemed less important to me than it actually is. If you can delay your departure for perhaps another day or two, Kaeritha, I'll spend some time going over the reports from my local lords and bailiffs to see if there is something I missed the first time around. Right off the top of my head, though, the only ongoing local problem I'm aware of is the situation at Kalatha."
"Kalatha?" Kaeritha repeated.
"It's a town a bit more than a week's ride east of here," Tellian told her. "I realize you said you were within a 'few days' of whatever your destination is, but you could probably make the trip in five days if you pushed hard on a good horse, so I suppose it might qualify."
"Why is it a problem?" she asked.
"Why isn't it a problem?" he responded with a harsh chuckle. She looked puzzled, and he shrugged. "Kalatha isn't just any town, Milady. It holds a special Crown charter, guaranteeing its independence from the local lords, and some of them resent that. Not just because it exempts the Kalathans from their taxes, either." He smiled crookedly. "The reason it holds a free-city charter in the first place is because Lord Kellos Swordsmith, one of my maternal great-great-grandfathers, deeded it to the war maids-with the Crown's strong 'approval'-over two centuries ago."
Kaeritha's eyes narrowed, and he nodded.
"The war maids aren't so very popular," he said with what all of his listeners recognized as massive understatement. "I suppose we Sothōii are too traditional for it to be any other way. But for the most part, they're at least respected as the sort of enemies you wouldn't want to make. However much they may be disliked, very few people, even among the most convinced traditionalists, are foolish enough to go out of their way to pick quarrels with them."
"And that isn't the case at the moment with Kalatha?" Kaeritha asked.
"That depends on whose version you accept," Tellian replied. "According to the local lords, the Kalathans have been encroaching on territory not covered by the town charter, and they've been 'confrontational' and 'hostile' to efforts to resolve the competing claims peaceably. But according to the war maids, the local lords-and especially Trisu of Lorham, the most powerful of them-have been systematically encroaching upon the rights guaranteed to them by their charter for years now. It's been going on for some time, but there's always something like this. Especially where war maids are concerned. And it's worse in Kalatha's case-inevitably, I suppose. Kalatha isn't the largest war maid free-town or city, but it is the oldest, thanks to my highly principled ancestor. I like to think he didn't realize just how much of a pain in the arse he was going dump on all his descendants. Although, if he didn't, he must have been stupider than I'd prefer to think."
Kaeritha had started to ask another question, but she paused almost visibly at the baron's tone. It would have been too much to call it bitter or biting, but there was a definite edge to it. So instead of what she'd been about to ask, she nodded.
"I agree it doesn't sound like an earthshaking problem," she said. "On the other hand, I have to start somewhere, and this sounds like it might very well be the place. Especially since each of Tomanâk's champions has his-or her-particular . . . specialties, call them."
Tellian's brow furrowed, and Kaeritha chuckled.
"Any of us are expected to be able to handle any duty any of His champions might encounter, Milord, but we each have our own personality traits and skills. That tends to mean we're more comfortable, or effective, at least, serving different aspects of Him. For example, Bahzell here is obviously most at home serving Him as God of War, although he's done fairly well serving Him as God of Justice. For someone who's most at home breaking things, anyway."
She grinned at Bahzell, who looked back affably, with an expression which boded ill for the next time they met on the training field.
"My own reasons for joining His service, though," she went on, returning her attention to Tellian, "had more to do with a burning thirst for justice." She paused and frowned, eyes darkening with old and painful memories, then shook herself. "That's always been the aspect of Him I'm most comfortable-or happiest, anyway-serving, and my talents and abilities seem best suited to it. So if there's a legal dispute between this Kalatha and the neighboring nobility, it certainly seems like a logical place for me to start looking. Can I get a map to show me how to find it?"
"Oh, I can do better than that, Milady," Tellian assured her. "Kalatha may hold a Crown charter, but Trisu and his neighbors are my vassals. If you can wait until the end of the week to depart, I'll make some additional inquiries and provide as much background information as I can. And of course I'll send along letters of introduction and instructions for them to cooperate fully with you during your visit."
"Thank you, Milord," Kaeritha said formally. "That would be very good of you."
Chapter Six
"So, there you are, Leeana."
Leeana's not quite stealthy progress along the passageway stopped as she paused and looked over her shoulder. Although the dark-haired woman in the open doorway behind her leaned heavily on the silver-worked, ebony cane under her right hand, she also stood very straight. Her left hand held a book, closed on a place-marking index finger, and a pair of gold, wire-framed, dwarvish-made reading glasses had been pushed up onto the top of her head to get them out of the way. It was subtly apparent, despite her full gown, that her right hip was carried higher than her left and her right leg was frailer, less well-muscled and thin. Yet despite that, and despite the faint traceries of silver in her dark hair, she was still a beautiful woman, with a well-formed, high-bosomed figure Leeana had both admired and envied for as long as she could remember. She was taller than Dame Kaeritha, although not quite so tall as Leeana, and her eyes were exactly the same deep, jade-green as Leeana's. Not surprisingly, perhaps.