her favorably, then?”
“I’m sorry?” said Caina.
“You have dug into my past,” said Nasser, flashing his white smile at her, “so it seems only just that I repay you with the same coin. I suspect you lost someone of significance to you before coming to Istarinmul. Was this Sonya Tornesti a lover, then?”
Caina blinked in astonishment, and just barely kept herself from erupting with laughter.
“Sonya Tornesti?” said Caina. “Oh, aye, I fear you’ve caught me out. I took one look at her and I was mad with passion.” Nasser’s eyebrows started to climb his forehead. “That long blonde hair, those blue eyes, and, gods, she had strong legs…”
“There is no need,” said Nasser, “for excessive…”
“You did ask,” said Caina. “I was mad for her. Maybe it was the accent. I could never resist a woman with a Szaldic accent, you know? We took each other morning, noon, and night. It was never enough for me. We…”
“Despite how annoying you find Morgant,” said Nasser, “I begin to see why you two work so well together.”
“Now that’s an insult,” said Caina, grinning at him.
Her smile faded as they returned to the mercenaries. Someday, perhaps, she could tell Nasser the truth, and he would understand the joke. Not today, though.
First they had to live through today.
“What was that about?” said Kylon.
“Sonya Tornesti,” said Caina, and Kylon nodded. He had known her by that name from when he had visited Malarae to escort the Emperor to New Kyre. “Nasser wondered if Tanzir would remember her.”
“Who the devil is Sonya Tornesti?” said Morgant.
“A coffee merchant’s mistress,” said Caina. “Wore too much makeup, too much jewelry, and dresses that were too tight and too gaudy. You really wouldn’t have liked her.”
Morgant snorted, and Caina felt a twinge of sadness. Morgant would not have liked Sonya Tornesti…but Caina had liked pretending to be Sonya Tornesti, had enjoyed the dresses and the jewels. She had enjoyed running the House of Kularus even more, had enjoyed living with Corvalis.
It was the happiest she had been in her adult life, and she had lost it all.
She felt Kylon looking at her. No doubt he had sensed the emotions roiling within her skull. Gods, but she had been wound up lately.
“Let’s go meet the emir,” said Caina.
Nasser conferred with Laertes, Kazravid, and the captains for a moment longer, and then the horsemen started forward again. Shopur and Dio passed orders down the lines of horsemen, commanding them to sheathe their weapons and not to draw them unless they came under attack. Neither mercenary captain wanted to risk irritating an Istarish emir. Given that the emir might become their employer in the near future, Caina understood.
A few minutes later the Istarish soldiers came into sight. The footmen had formed a shield wall across the road, blocking it, and archers waited behind the shields. Wings of horsemen stood on either side of the road, ready to screen the archers’ flanks. A group of horsemen waited behind the archers, lances in hand. The standardbearer held a lance with two standards. One banner displayed the crown-and-sword sigil of the Padishah himself, while the other showed the seven towers of the House of Shahan.
“Hold!” thundered the standardbearer, a tall man in plate armor with a spiked helm that concealed his face. “In the name of Tanzir of House Shahan, Emir of the Vale of Fallen Stars and Captain of the Seven Towers, stand and identify yourselves.”
“Best put that silver tongue of yours to use,” said Kazravid.
Nasser nodded and steered his mount forward with his knees, his hands raised.
“Greetings!” he called out. “I seek audience with the noble emir of the Vale of Fallen Stars. Is he among you?”
“You will identify yourself,” thundered the standardbearer.
“I am a messenger,” said Nasser.
“Indeed?” said the standardbearer. “A messenger that requires such a formidable guard? For whom do you carry a message?”
Nasser glanced at Caina, and she nodded, bracing herself.
“Tell the emir,” said Nasser, gesturing back at Caina, “that I come bearing news from Strabane of Drynemet, and that that this man has a message from Sonya Tornesti of Malarae.”
That got a reaction.
One of the horsemen snapped a command, and a quiet conference took place behind the archers and the shield wall. Caina waited, feeling sweat trickle down her back. If Tanzir decided that it was a trap, or if one of his khalmirs was in command of the soldiers instead…
“The messenger from Sonya Tornesti,” said the standardbearer at last. His voice had not decreased in volume, but now he sounded thoroughly