Shadows of Sanctuary978-0441806010 Read Free

with my name.' She grabbed a mug of beer and put it on the table, spilling some, and fled.
    They all looked at each other, but then the tavern-keeper came with platters of meat. They were too hungry to wonder what they had done to frighten the barmaid. Wess tore off a mouthful of bread. It was fairly fresh, and a welcome change from trail rations - dry meat, flatbread mixed hurriedly and baked on stones in the coals of a campfire, fruit when they could find or buy it. Still, Wess was used to better.
    'I miss your bread,' she said to Quartz in their own language. Quartz smiled. The meat was hot and untainted by decay. Even Aerie ate with some appetite, though she preferred meat raw.
    Halfway through her meal, Wess slowed down and took a moment to observe the tavern more carefully.
    At the bar, a group suddenly burst into raucous laughter.
    'You say the same damned thing every damned time you turn up in Sanctuary, Bauchle,' one of them said, his loud voice full of mockery. 'You have a secret or a scheme or a marvel that will make your fortune. Why don't you get an honest job - like the rest of us?'
    That brought on more laughter, even from the large, heavyset young man who was being made fun of.
    'You'll see, this time,' he said. 'This time I've got something that will take me all the way to the court of the Emperor. When you hear the criers tomorrow, you'll know.' He called for more wine. His friends drank and made more jokes, both at his expense.
    The Unicorn was much more crowded now, smokier, louder. Occasionally someone glanced towards Wess and her friends, but otherwise they were let alone. A cold breeze thinned the odour of beer and sizzling meat and unwashed bodies. Silence fell suddenly, and Wess looked quickly around to see if she had breached some other unknown custom.
    But all the attention focused on the tavern's entrance. The cloaked figure stood there casually, but nothing was casual about the aura of power and self possession.
    In the whole of the tavern, not another table held an empty place.
    'Sit with us, sister!' Wess called on impulse.
    Two long steps and a shove: Wess's chair scraped roughly along the floor and Wess was rammed back against the wall, a dagger at her throat.
    'Who calls me "sister"?' The dark hood fell back from long, grey-streaked hair. A blue star blazed on the woman's forehead. Her elegant features grew terrible and dangerous in its light.
    Wess stared up into the tall, lithe woman's furious eyes. Her jugular vein pulsed against the point of the blade. If she made a move towards her knife, or if any other friends moved at all, she was dead.
    'I meant no disrespect -' She almost said 'sister' again. But it. was not the familiarity that had caused offence: it was the word itself. The woman was travelling incognito, and Wess had breached her disguise. No mere apology would repair the damage she had done.
    A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face. Chan and Aerie and Quartz were all poised on the edge of defence. If Wess erred again, more than one person would die before the fighting stopped.
    'My unfamiliarity with your language has offended you, young gentleman,' Wess said, hoping the tavern-keeper had used a civil form of address, if not a civil tone. It was often safe to insult someone by the tone, but seldom by the words themselves. 'Young gentleman,' she said again when the woman did not kill her,
    'someone has made sport of me by translating "frejojan", "sister".'
    'Perhaps,' the disguised woman said. 'What does frejojan mean?'
    'It is a term of peace, an offer of friendship, a word to welcome a guest, another child of one's own parents.'
    'Ah. "Brother" is the word you want, the word to speak to men. To call a man
    "sister", the word for women, is an insult.'
    'An insult!' Wess said, honestly surprised.
    But the knife drew back from her throat.
    'You are a barbarian,' the disguised woman said, in a friendly tone. 'I cannot be insulted by a barbarian.'
    'There is the problem,