Second Guard Read Free Page A

but there is no shame in service. Your sister and I value your safety above any military honor the Queen could bestow.”
    Tali swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to smile. “You worry too much, Father. The Second Guard is a peacekeeping force, not one of those bloodthirsty armies of the Far World.
Besides, you know me, I’d make a terrible servant. I’m much better at fighting than cleaning.”
    Though Alondro’s eyes softened, he did not laugh at her attempted joke. “You’re as stubborn as Cora,” he said, shaking his head, as if he wasn’t sure whether to
feel pleased or distressed by what he was going to say next. “She was a fighter, your mother, until the very end, and if she were here, she’d tell you this: If you wish to excel as a
warrior, you must always know what it is you’re fighting for. You must know it, and believe in it. Otherwise you are not a warrior, but a hired hand with a blade.”
    Tali nodded. “I understand.” Gods, how she would miss the somber man before her. She threw her arms around him in a fierce embrace. “I will live up to her name, I
promise.”
    “I’ve no doubt,” he’d said. “But above all, remember your own name, Talimendra. Do not live as I have these eleven years. The shadow of the dead is no place for a
young girl to dwell.”
    Tali’s horse strained at the reins, pulling her back to the present. She heard the sound of another horse’s hooves trotting up from behind, and she turned in her saddle to see who
approached. A young man on a white stallion neared, and when he lifted a hand in greeting, Tali brought her horse to a halt.
    As he pulled up beside her, Tali tried to keep her expression neutral, though inwardly she felt a stab of surprise. She had met many Moon Guild men, with their pristine white clothes and closely
shorn hair, but never had she laid eyes on one nearly so striking, or perhaps, she let herself admit, so handsome. His eyes radiated a golden light from within a warm, brown face. His riding
posture was sleek and elegant, his tall, trim form obvious even atop his horse.
    “Good day,” he said, smiling as he held out his left palm in greeting. “I am Zarif Baz Hasan, second-born of the Araby Scribes.”
    Of course, Tali thought. He’s an Arabite.
    Although she had never seen one, she had heard many tales about the sophisticated Far World immigrants from Araby, with dark skin and scholarly minds. They had settled mostly in Fugaza, the
capital city, and registered with the Moon Guild as doctors and scientists, archivists and teachers. Queen Nineteen, it was said, had encouraged and aided their immigration to Tequende after
meeting an Arabite refugee in neighboring New Castille. The man had been her consort for twenty years after that, until her death. And no wonder, thought Tali, if he was as striking as this
Zarif.
    Tali returned his smile and reached across to place her palm on his. “I am Tali, second-born of the Magda River Traders.”
    “I am honored by your acquaintance, Tali,” he said, bowing his head. “You ride for the Alcazar?” His voice carried the refined accent of the capital, with just a slight
hint of his foreign roots.
    “Yes,” Tali answered. “Do you also pledge service to the Second Guard this full moon?”
    “I do,” said Zarif. “I believe we’ll catch sight of the Alcazar just beyond that rise.”
    “Praise Intiq,” Tali said, patting her horse’s neck, as if the mare too would be comforted in this knowledge. “It has been a long journey.”
    Zarif laughed. “And praise Elia. We have also had a long ride, from Fugaza,” he said, reaching down to scratch his own horse.
    A few moments later they reached the crest of the rise, and both halted to survey the view. Below them, the Paseo switchbacked down the hill several times until it joined a mighty stone bridge
that extended a quarter league into a vast lake. At the end of the bridge emerged an oval island, dominated at its far end by a