Shields Lady Read Free

you that Shields are different," Jasso reminded her. He sounded resentful and with good reason. When the plan to engage a Shield had first been proposed, Sariana hadn't paid much attention to warnings of potential difficulties. "We explained they walk their own paths and tend to stay on the outskirts of society. They live on the frontiers for the most part. One doesn't run into one in town very often. Fortunately."

                Bryer looked speculatively at the man on the floor. "But occasionally one finds a Shield useful." "Useful as a mercenary," Sariana clarified dryly. "Let's all stop snapping at each other. For better or
    worse, we've got our Shield and we managed not to kill him in the process. Barely. We must go forward from here. Our first priority is getting back that prisma cutter, and from everything you have told me, hiring a Shield is our best bet."

                "I'm not sure he's going to consider this a valid employment contract," Jasso said skeptically. "I wonder why he passed out from that tiny drop of hypnotic drug Mara gave him?"
                "Because Shields are different," Lady Avylyn said firmly. "I told you that." Sariana was amused more than alarmed by the Avylyns' conviction that the man on the floor was
    somehow fundamentally different from other people.

    Sariana eyed her captive. He certainly dressed differently than the members of most of the other social

    classes she had encountered in Serendipity. The truth was, she found his strictly styled, close fitting dmk trousers and unadorned long-sleeved shirt something of a relief from all the showy fashions that were popular in the capital city of the western provinces.

                He had on a severely cut waist-length jacket instead of the more popular flowing cape, and his boots and belt were made of untooled leather. There was nothing outrageous or ornate about his attire. No gems set in the heels of his boots or tracings of silver on the collar and cuffs of his shirt.
                And no codpiece, Sariana noted with a flash of humor. She found that fact oddly reassuring. The only item of the Shield's apparel that could be called decorative was the black leather pouch he
    wore attached to his belt. The pouch itself was made of the practically indestructible hide of the legendary snake cat. Sariana had never actually seen a snake cat, but Luri, the Avylyns' youngest, had regaled her with hair raising tales of the beasts. Apparently they favored swamplands and could swallow a man in one gulp.

                Sariana had no idea how accurate such tales were, but on the whole she was happy to forego the experience of encountering a live specimen. She wondered if the man on the floor had actually hunted for the leather to be used in his pouch or if he'd bought it.

                It was the clasp on the leather pouch that constituted the man's one item of adornment. But that single item was a major exception. The pouch was sealed and locked with an intricate mechanism fashioned from pure prisma.

                Sariana had learned enough about the jewelry business from the Avylyns to recognize the strange silvery crystal when she saw.it She had also learned something of its value. The clasp on the pouch was worth a fortune. Prisma was the rarest and most expensive of all jewels. The man sprawled on the floor did not look as if he could afford

    such an expensive closure for his pouch. Perhaps he'd stolen it.

                "My apologies if I offend the Clan," Sariana said firmly, "but to be honest, the man does not appear to be all that dangerous. That's the problem when one puts too much credence in First Generation myths and legends. One forgets to deal in facts. I see no reason why we can't continue with our plan just as soon as he wakes up."

                Lord Avylyn was troubled. "Do you really think you can deal with him, Sariana? How are we