The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,100

its rim lazed younger nobles on drop cloths. At the circle's heart were Rizu and some other young ladies who played a ball-tossing game. Daja was happy just to watch, leaning on her Trader staff. She had brought it to make her way over uneven ground, to poke under stones to ensure that no early rising snakes lurked in wait, and to show to Rizu. When she had discovered that each marking on a Trader's staff stood for part of the person's life, Rizu had made Daja promise to tell some of the stories about her markings. Now Daja watched her catch the ball gracefully and toss it high, enjoying her new friend's joy in the beauty of the day and the setting.

Movement drew her eye past the ring of laughing noblewomen. Three men had turned to listen to a fourth. Something about that fourth man's excitement, the way he spoke with one hand raised to cover the movements of his mouth, and the slyly eager looks exchanged by his companions, told Daja there was trouble afoot. When they all ran off around the ruins of a wall, she was certain of it. As a Trader and as a mage she knew the look of overgrown boys up to wickedness.

As Berenene had led the tour, she had kept Briar at her side. Some of the courtiers — including three of the ones who had just left — had been displeased by the attention the empress gave Briar. Many of those courtiers had also grumbled when Berenene took Briar into her greenhouses, where they were forbidden to go. Traders were taught from the cradle to notice who complained and when: often those were the people who led the attacks on Traders. Now the empress was occupied, and Briar was nowhere within view.

Briar? Daja called down the withered thread that remained of their old bond. She heard and felt nothing. You'd think you want people to know you were all right, she added tartly. There was still no reply.

Daja sent a pulse of magic along their connection to see where the bond led. Walking slowly, sending magic along the tie in waves, she followed it into the garden. She didn't realize it, but she was twirling her staff in a circle, hand over hand, loosening her muscles in preparation for a fight.

She had to climb over four walls, apologizing to flowers as she stepped on them. I hope the empress doesn't learn this was me, she thought as she fluffed a patch of moss she had crushed. I'll have Briar fix these when I find him.

Down two sets of ruined stairs she went, then along an open inner gallery now used as a rose trellis. The thread led her up another set of stairs, or rather, it went through the stairs; Daja had to climb them and jump down from a six-foot wall. She walked among some trees into a clearing by a stream. Young noblemen stood there in a half circle. They watched Briar, who faced one of the men who so often watched the empress.

Olfeon fer ... something, Daja remembered. Master of the Armoury. The one who gets the cream from Namorn's armourers when it's time to buy weapons for the imperial guards. Is he one of the empress's ex-lovers, the jealous sort Rizu mentioned?

"— as I thought," Olfeon said, contempt in his voice. "You mages are all cowards. If you have to take on a real man, you can only do it with your stinking magic."

Briar's six inches shorter than this kaq, thought Daja as she moved into a space in the half-circle. The men next to her were too interested in the brewing fight to do more than glance at her. But they're muscled about the same, Daja thought as she continued to measure Briar against Olfeon. He may be a warrior sort — that scar on his cheek isn't some lady's kiss.

Briar raised his eyebrows. "Of course, if you think so, how could I possibly disagree?" he asked politely. He'd shifted his weight so he was balanced properly. "Look, are you trying to challenge me to a duel or something? Because if you are, could you get it over with? And if you aren't, would you go away? There's blight in that patch of speedwell over there, and I'd like to get rid of it before Her Imperial Majesty sees it and gets upset."

"Duel?" snapped Olfeon. "With you, guttersnipe?"

Stinking kaq, thought Daja in disgust.

Olfeon continued: "I'd no

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