The Riven Shield by Michelle West

Author:Michelle West [Michelle West]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780756401467
Goodreads: 153217
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2003-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A MOMENT of silence.

Ramiro di’Callesta used it as a shield. Stood behind it, expression impenetrable as he examined the choices laid out before him. He was aware of the Tyran; aware that they looked not to the Tyr’agar, nor to the Tyr’s unfortunate choice of guard, but to the Tyr’agnate, the man who embodied Callesta. The decision was his.

Must be his.

“Kiriel.” The Serra Alina turned her shoulder toward him. It was easy to see her as a Northern guard; easy until she spoke. The nuances of the Southern Court informed the Weston she chose to speak, marking her, in two ways, as foreign. Proud woman, he thought her; hawklike. She carried the grace of her lineage, but it was scarred, had always been scarred, by the ferocity of her temperament and her inability to disguise it.

Yet she had found a place in the harem of his wife, the irreproachable Serra Amara; had made, of an implacable enemy, something that might—in times of peace—be called friend. His par, Ser Fillipo, had always admired this particular Lambertan. It was almost easy to understand why.

Kiriel di’Ashaf, shadowed by the creature who had almost killed the Voyani woman, turned to the Serra Alina di’Lamberto.

“The temple of the Radann is forbidden to the women of the Dominion,” Serra Alina told her. It was so much a Southern truth that Ramiro kai di’Callesta knew no one else would think to speak it aloud.

A shrug was Kiriel di’Ashaf’s entire response.

“If, indeed, what you seek is within the walls of the temple, we cannot face it there.”

The shrug became a frown. He heard the wind’s howl in the crease of her thin lips. But she did not speak.

The Serra waited a moment, and when it became clear that Kiriel would not speak, continued. “You, Alexis, Fiara, and certainly myself, must wait upon the Tyrs. It is an offense in the eyes of the Lord for women to set foot within a place consecrated to his use.”

“It is not the Lord’s time.”

“No. But even in the darkest of nights, there are places which are the Lord’s; places which bear his light and his commandment. This is one.”

“And are there such places for the Lady?”

The Serra’s smile was thin. The bitterness that did not—quite—reach her face tainted her voice. “It is said that all of the recesses of a woman’s heart belong to her.”

Kind’s silence had none of the quality of the Tyr’agnate’s. She bristled as she approached the Tyr’agar. But she did not demean him again; did not snap or snarl as the Ospreys were wont to do among their own.

“Tyr’agar.”

“Kiriel.”

She hesitated. Ramiro had seen her hesitate in such a fashion many times, and each time was a surprise to him; there was something about her demeanor that such evidence of uncertainty ill-suited.

“The Serra Alina is correct,” Ramiro said quietly. He had not meant to say as much, and smiled inwardly. Vulnerability in the young had its appeal, especially when it came un-looked for. His Amara would not have approved.

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