Astrial woke slowly, surfacing from murky dreams to sunlight filtering in through partly closed shutters and playing across her eyes. She rolled over, intending to go to sleep again, but her arm smacked across someone's chest.

"Mrmm," she commented and slid out of bed. Reban was still asleep--the man could probably sleep through being dropped from the battlements--and he lay flung out across the entire bed, leaving only a small portion for her. She chuckled and patted his head fondly. He was a good man, and she'd spent a pleasant night with him, but part of the fun was knowing it was only a temporary relationship. She had no doubt that he'd find himself another willing girl, which was perfect, for today she felt like something new. She firmly believed that men were partners for pleasure, or for work, or for strategy--but never all at once.

The pile of clothes on the floor diminished in size as she picked up the half that was hers and slipped them on. As a final touch, she picked up her scabbard from its position next to the bed and strapped it across her back. A good mercenary always keeps her weapons close at hand. The best, she knew, slept with them on, but she could never get comfortable with a sword making a dent in her body.

Reban started snoring as Astrial opened the door to let herself out of his room, and she thought to herself that she had escaped just in time. She never could stand a man who snored.

She wandered across the keep to the kitchens, searching for food to fill her stomach. The nobles were probably breakfasting with the king in the great hall, but she very rarely chose to eat with them. She'd go to court on occasion, but, high-born blood notwithstanding, she preferred the life of a mercenary.

In the kitchens, the cook greeted her with a smile. "There's some warm bread an' cheese for your mornin' meal, 'Rial," he said. "An' how was your night?"

"Delightful, as usual," she replied with a wink. "Anything new going on today, Heril?"

"Nothin' so unusual. A feast tonight, though, just a'cause. King wants to liven up spirits before the summer gets 'em down too far. It's too damned hot lately."

"You northers think that anything without snow is hot!" she teased. "Try it down in Dreland where the sun makes you so thirsty you start hallucinating water on the horizon."

"Don't say such things!" Heril cried, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "You'll bring 'em upon us!"

Astrial laughed and nodded. "A feast tonight, though? I suppose I'll show up, if only for some of that wonderful roast beef you make. You will be making it, right?" She made as if to draw her weapon in threat, but winked.

"A'course."

"Then I shall grace the king with my presence twice today." She leaned closer and disclosed, "There was gossip last night that someone new has arrived and will be presented at court later. For that chance I'll sit through any amount of nobles preening and talking about how wonderful they are."

"An' you a noble, at that. But admit it, you'll only go there for a chance that this new one's a man, an' handsome!"

"Ah, my wounded pride!" Astrial affected a swoon. "To think that you assume me so base a creature--wait, no, you're right." She grinned. "I've gone through all the good ones here already. I need fresh meat."

"You could always try me, 'Rial. I'm young an' handsome!" Heril indicated his head of white hair and patted his thickening middle.

She chuckled. "If I ever need you, I know where to look. Right next to the food. Speaking of which, thank you for breakfast. I'll be off to get dressed for court."

Astrial smoothed her hands down her sides as she examined her outfit in the mirror. She was at heart a warrior, but she was occasionally obligated to make some concessions to her rank--at least if she wanted respect from her peers.

She would never wear dresses--highly impractical garments. It was possible, though hardly recommended, to fight in a dress; however, Astrial preferred trousers. Her formal trousers could pass for a skirt at first glance, as they were composed of many baggy folds and artful pleating. They were comfortably loose and permitted ease of movement.

Similarly, her blouse was not cut according to the latest fashion--ruffles and lace--but was a simplistic, sensible design with only a few decorations. The most important feature of her shirt was that it allowed her to strap her weapon harness across her shoulders. It wasn't always politic to keep her weapons with her, but she did it as often as feasible. Here in Bryela, King Beldis was familiar with Astrial and her mercenary group, so she could wear her harness to formal gatherings.

Astrial's main concern was with functionality, but she also wanted to look good. She eyed herself critically, then smiled in approval. Tonight's outfit was in different shades of green and embroidered with cream thread. Her curly red hair had green ribbons braided into it, and she was wearing a more decorative version of her harness. Let any man who dared try to resist her.

She strode into court holding her head high in confidence and moved to the place that was normally reserved for her. Astrial was a comparatively unimportant noble, though she had been born to the position. She was not wealthy or powerful; she did not own any land. But since her father was a Grand Duke in Dreland, the country far to the south, Astrial had a spot near to King Beldis. She rarely chose to use the privileges she was born to, however.

Court started out tedious, as always, reminding her of why she normally stayed far away. Lady Orinda to her right insisted on gossiping with her about the men in court, though what she actually wanted to know was whether Astrial had her eye on anyone at the moment--since coming here two months ago, the mercenary had quickly displayed an ability to attach any man she chose, and that was common knowledge both among the nobles and the staff of Ereden Keep.

After listening to Orinda ramble at length about a particular Baron from the northwest and his prospering sheep trade, Astrial finally turned to her and said firmly, "Do be quiet now. I don't wish to listen to your babble any longer." Orinda responded to this by turning various shades of purple and lifting her nose well above eye level.

The young lord talking to Beldis concluded his discussion, bowed, and backed away. As the king was about to motion the next petitioner forward, a hush fell over the crowd. It was one of those moments where everybody seems to cease speaking simultaneously; and just then, a new figure strode in.

Astrial's pulse quickened as she took in every detail of the stranger. He was moderately tall and clad entirely in black, from the cape across his shoulders to the boots reaching up his calves. His hair was also black, and fell down to his neck in waves. He looked to be about her age, and his expression was that of casual indifference, with dark gray eyes that seemed to take in everything. Damn, the mercenary thought. It was worth it to put up with Orinda to see this.

The newcomer stepped up to Beldis and gave a courtly bow. "King Beldis," he said, "an honor to meet you."

"But we have not yet met," commented Beldis and smiled warmly. The king was a good man, honest and just, very competent, but he tended to be ignorant when it came to dealing with his subjects. He was eternally optimistic, inclined to believe the best of everyone. Astrial hoped for his sake that he would not be too rudely awakened to the truth of human nature.

"I am Tristorn," said the stranger. "A visitor to Bryela from across the mountains." That was surprising; the people who lived in the country to the north, beyond the mountain range, kept to themselves and seldom encouraged visitors. They had a reputation as mysterious, almost legendary, so rarely were they seen.

"You have come alone?" asked the king, mildly surprised. "No retinue?"

"On my own. I--have heard many tales of Ereden Keep; I come to see if any are true." He offered a small smile, though no warmth entered his expression. Astrial had the distinct impression he was not telling the entire truth. "It is my hope that you will be generous enough to allow me to stay for a while, and learn of Bryela."

"By all means," said Beldis loudly. "Enjoy my kingdom and hospitality. Never let it be said that we turned away a guest come in peace."

Tristorn bowed and walked away. The entire court had been silent through this exchange, and now everyone burst into speech, loudly exclaiming over the strange man from across the mountains.

A cluster of women gathered around Tristorn, each coyly flattering him and trying to attract his attention. He responded coolly to each, though none of his remarks had any effect on the surge of voices clamoring for his attention.

Astrial grinned and crossed over to his little group, pushing past a few ladies. Orinda sniffed and sashayed off, doubtless to sulk over the loss of the handsome stranger.

Tristorn turned to Astrial just as she reached his side; he raised an eyebrow at her, recognizing that she was very different from the other noblewomen. She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Forget about these ladies. We can have our own little cultural exchange--I'll teach you anything you want to know."

He smiled slowly and inclined his head to her. "I'd be in your debt, Lady. . . ."

"Astrial," she supplied, "and don't even call me Lady. I've nothing in common with this herd of nobles except a chance of birth."

The women around her made noises of protest and complaint, but Astrial simply waved them away without looking. They dispersed, casting resentful glances in her direction. She smiled and leaned against Tristorn.

He glanced down at her. "Thank you for rescuing me from those . . . women," he said.

"Entirely selfish on my part, I assure you. You'd be wasted on one of them. You're far too . . ." She paused and deliberately looked him up and down, taking in every detail. "Delicious," she finished.

"But a man could never consider anything with you to be wasted." Tristorn brushed his thumb lightly across her lips.

"Waiting through court suddenly seems very boring, doesn't it?" she commented casually.

"Ah, but if we left, people would gossip."

Astrial laughed and turned to motion at the other people. "Don't you think they already are? You wouldn't have made such an entrance if you didn't want to invite gossip."

"I hope I am not so transparent to all the rest of the court," he declared mildly.

She looked at him intently. "Or at least not to Beldis," she said in a soft voice. He looked at her sharply, then took her arm and led her away.

"I think I will take you up on your offer," he said as they left. "Why don't we go to your room."

Astrial loosed her coppery hair from its braid and watched Tristorn settle himself onto her bed. "You didn't think I was serious in my proposal, did you," she commented.

He smiled thinly. "It's quite rare to find honesty in a woman. So seldom do you say what you mean."

"I always say what I mean," she told him. "I've had enough of the deception put forth by well-bred ladies, and lords, too. Mine is a much more honest profession."

"And you are?"

"I'm a mercenary. Leader of the Red Falcons. We're stationed here for now because Beldis requested we be nearby in case the bandits from Neren to the west decide to raid again this summer."

"Ah. That explains the sword across your back."

She removed her harness and tossed it next to her bed, sitting beside Tristorn and leaning back against the pillows. "I like to wear it to court. It reminds the others that though they control more land than I do, I can still kill them."

Tristorn chuckled appreciatively. "An expression of physical dominance over political. I admire that." He looked directly into her eyes. "Will you also be honest with me if I ask you a question? It may be personal."

"I'll be honest with you. I may not answer, though. I won't lie, but I won't put forth too much of myself unless I know where I stand with the other person. Unless I know I can expect the same."

He nodded slowly. "Perhaps I could offer something to make you more comfortable with me?"

Astrial grinned. "What's that?"

"I will be honest with you, if you're honest with me. But neither of us should feel obligated to answer any question from the other."

She nodded. "I agree." She should accuse herself of being as trusting as Beldis--but at least she knew how to protect herself, if need be. And she'd never claimed to be free of curiosity. She didn't know who this man was, but she wanted to find out.

"I don't mean to offend--but how is it that you have noble blood, and yet you choose to be a mercenary?"

"That's not at all personal. I don't mind telling you. My father is the Grand Duke of Dreland, which gives me the rights of a noble. But there's no chance I'll ever inherit. I'm the seventh of eight children, and a girl, too. I was lucky in that my father believed that all his children should be equally educated. So I learned to fight alongside my brothers--oh, and they learned embroidery right next to me. Anyhow, when I got old enough, I signed up with a merc band, and that's been my life ever since. Sometimes it's useful to be a noble--certain people are more likely to hire me, knowing I'm high-born. Of course," she added with well-earned pride, "the Red Falcons are known for our high success rate, so we'd be hired anyhow.

"Now, I've told you about my history--tell me something about yourself. Something off the top of your head."

Tristorn ran his fingers across her hair and leaned over until he was only inches away from her. "Something about myself?" He smiled slyly. "I adore red hair on a woman."

Well, that wasn't quite what I asked for. But there's always later. Astrial tilted her head up to brush across his lips with her own. He caressed her cheek softly and pulled her closer to cover her mouth entirely with his, kissing her deeply. And then neither had any more questions in their minds.

Astrial woke up to Tristorn kissing her lightly on the forehead. "That's odd," she said.

"You don't like that?"

"No, what's odd is that you woke up before me. Usually I'm the one who wakes up and leaves." I do hope we haven't slept through dinner. I'm as hungry as a pack of coyotes.

"I wasn't intending to leave yet," he said, sitting on the bed beside her.

She chuckled. "Want more? Mm, I think you may have to wait until after dinner. I hunger, and it's not for you. I want food."

He smiled. Astrial stretched, surprised that her muscles didn't protest. The sheets slid off her, and Tristorn's eyes roamed over her body. She felt comfortable enough with him, even unclothed. After all, if he'd wanted to hurt her, he'd had an opportunity while she slept. And by introducing herself in the manner she had, there was no need for him to take advantage of her--in fact, she considered, she was the one with the advantage, having offered herself freely. "Like what you see?" she teased.

"So many scars," he murmured. Not a complaint, but an observation.

"Well," she said, looking down at herself. Thin white lines marked her in several places: her stomach and chest, her thighs, and especially along her arms. A jagged mark ran from the front of her neck to her right shoulder. Altogether too many scars to count. "After so many years of fighting, these are what I am."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "That's not true. Your scars don't define you."

"There are days when it feels like they do," she sighed. "When I wake up and I can feel every one of them, angry and hot--sometimes I regret the life I chose. But then, what else is life but pain?"

Tristorn trailed his fingertips from her neck, between her breasts, down to her stomach. "Life is a chance to live. A chance to feel--you don't mean that all life is pain."

"No," she replied softly. "Just some of it."

He was silent for a moment, then stood and said, "We should get dressed if we want to be in time for dinner." She agreed, and they set about pulling their clothes on. Gossip had certainly already spread about the pair, but what a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.

Astrial admired the fine lines of Tristorn's body, the way he carried himself so confidently, the tender and cautious way he'd loved her, like it was entirely new to him. She caught herself wondering about him, about his past and his intentions here. She didn't normally care about a man. But she already liked caring about Tristorn.

It was something in the way he'd kissed her, she thought. With other men, kissing was just--physical contact. But with this one . . . kissing made her feel closer to him. It made her want to feel closer to him.

But you don't know his plans here, she reminded herself. You don't know what he wants--so don't start to rely on him. That was a mistake she wouldn't allow herself to make.

The dinner that night was uneventful. Astrial was placed several seats away from Tristorn, much to her disappointment. Everyone around her persisted in asking her questions--where he was from, what he was doing here, what his favorite color was--that last query coming from Lady Orinda. Astrial, exasperated, refused to answer anything, and gradually the conversation shifted to other gossip. Sometimes she wondered how nobles ever found the time to manage their lands since their main activity seemed to be gossiping.

The mercenary lounged in her chair, eating all she could of the roast beef and gravy prepared earlier that day. She ignored the discussion around her, although one snatch of the conversation caught her attention.

"What did you just say?" she demanded of Baron Fireth, turning her gaze upon him.

He was taken aback. "I was telling Lady Orinda some of my family's tales of Bryela."

"Which tales?"

Seeing that he'd found a new audience, Fireth smiled. "I just mentioned the Sorcerer's Spring that's said to be located in the woods east of Ereden Keep. Supposedly, if you drink from it, it cures any mortal wounds you happen to have. The trick is finding it--you have to have magic, and cast some sort of spell, so they say."

"Is it true?" Astrial asked, curious.

Fireth chuckled. "Who can say? No one around here's had a drop of magic since the time of the Sorcerous Wars. But they say that when Gadrian and Verelan fought, the Sorcerer's Spring is where Gadrian healed himself after the last battle where he killed his mortal enemy."

"Were Gadrian and Verelan real? I thought they were just characters from a children's tale."

"Someday that's all they'll be, but my grandfather's father was in the Wars. He fought under Gadrian and told my grandfather all about it when he was still young. Brave Gadrian and Verelan the Mad were real enough, but I suspect much of their stories have been embellished since then."

"Hm," offered Astrial and dropped out of the conversation again.

After dinner, Astrial waited impatiently for everyone to shuffle out of the great hall. Some were still lingering over dessert, despite the anxious movements of servants clearing the tables.

She finally escaped the throng of people and found Tristorn in a side passage, waiting for her. She smiled at him and took his arm, walking back to her room in silence, broken by his only question.

"Tomorrow, do you think you could show me around the keep?"

"Of course," she replied, pleased that he'd asked her rather than one of his dinner-companions. He had, naturally, been seated next to very pretty, very eager young ladies. But Astrial could tell that he was not one to be easily won over by their charms. He appeared disdainful of their advances, in fact.

Back in her room, they made themselves ready for bed. Without knowing why, Astrial commented, "Tonight I learned something interesting--Gadrian and Verelan were actually real people."

Tristorn's reaction was to stiffen entirely and step back. He didn't say a word. She peered at him curiously.

"It occurs to me," she began carefully, "that you still owe me an answer from earlier. A real one. What's on your mind?"

There was a moment of silence, and she wondered if she had asked too much of him. She had only met him half a day earlier, after all. But finally he answered, reluctantly, "Verelan--he is my ancestor. I am descended from him."

Astrial gave a low whistle. "I thought he had no children before he died."

Tristorn smiled weakly. "He did not die in battle with Gadrian. He was mortally wounded, but the truth is that they both found and drank from the Sorcerer's Spring."

"So you know that tale, too. I've been here months, and I hadn't heard that one until tonight. Maybe you know more about Bryela than I do--what are you searching for here?"

He looked down. "I can't answer that, Astrial."

She chuckled, though she had to force it a bit. "That's all right. I wouldn't press you on it--you can keep your own secrets."

"Will you tell Beldis? I fear he will not take kindly to the knowledge that one of the blood of his ancient enemy is staying in his keep--his line is descended from Gadrian, you know."

"I won't tell him. I have no reason to. A man shouldn't be judged based on his ancestry. Why don't we put that aside for tonight?"

"Would you distract me?"

"What did you have in mind?" she asked archly, pulling him down beside her on the bed.

"Mm," he commented, wrapping his arms around her. "Tell me a story. A true one. Something that happened to you."

Astrial raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Let's see. . . . Once I was hired by a prince, whose name I should probably not reveal, as this story may be less than flattering. He was young, but jaded; the heir to the throne, although he was not originally the eldest son. He was constantly being challenged by his younger brothers, but he had proven adept at turning away his enemies. So his father the king sent him on a diplomatic mission to a neighboring country at war with his land.

"Since he would be venturing into unknown territory, he hired bodyguards. The Red Falcons, to be precise. Mercenaries can make quite good guards, because we are accustomed to risking ourselves for nothing more than coin. We guided the prince across the border, defending his train against so-called 'bandits' who just happened to be equipped identically to the hostile country's palace guard.

"We brought him to the nation's capital, where something resembling peace talks began, though both sides knew that neither would accept the ludicrous terms the other offered. Excuse me, I meant 'demanded.' Daily the presence of bodyguards was proven necessary, as we discovered poisoned food, traps in the prince's room, ambushes. Once we were even needed to return the clothes that had been stolen while he busied himself with, as he put it, diplomatic discussions with a lady-in-waiting.

"On the last night, the prince summoned me and gave me new orders. He told me to sneak into the king's chambers and assassinate him."

Tristorn, captivated, raised his eyebrows. "Did you do it?" Never doubting if she could, merely curious if she would. His confidence pleased her.

"Tsk," she scolded. "Don't interrupt the story." She smiled. "I told him no. I would not kill the king.

"He grew angry and threatened to withdraw payment to the Falcons entirely, outrageously claiming he would take back the money we'd already received and refuse us the completion bonus.

"I explained that I had done my duty: guarded him while in a dangerous land. And since it was his last night, my term could be considered over, and I asked for the remaining balance to be paid forthwith.

"The prince yelled some more and ordered me to obey him or face the gallows. So I accepted. He immediately calmed down, and we discussed payment for this new task. He gave me half beforehand and promised the rest would be mine once the job was done.

"I went to the king's chamber, dressed as a lady, pretending to be drunk and lost. Very few guards expect to be knocked unconscious by a drunken gentlewoman, but that is exactly what followed, and I let myself into the room, stalking up to the bed in which the king lay, fast asleep.

"I poked him and he woke up with a start, demanding to know who I was, how I'd gotten in, why I was there at all. So I told him who I was, how I'd gotten in, and all about how the prince had hired me to assassinate the king.

"He was enraged, although really, he must have been expecting something, because he had a plan all set and right away set it into motion. The prince was roused from his bed and rudely shoved out of the palace gates--after all, it's very bad manners to kill a guest, especially a royal one--and told to make his own way home.

"I hear he had a very bad trip, but managed to survive the journey, more's the pity."

"So the moral of the story," said Tristorn with a small smile, "don't ask the Lady of the Falcons to kill someone for you."

Astrial smiled at him, but then sighed. "Even though it seems sometimes that killing is all I do. Being a killer in battle is not so very different from being a killer outside of it, I sometimes think."

"That's not true. Those who go into battle know they may die at any moment; someone lying asleep in bed is innocent of that knowledge, at least."

"Even so. But still, it's difficult sometimes . . ." She paused, wondering why she would say any of this, why she'd brought up that story in the first place.

"Difficult?"

"To be hired for my skill with bringing death."

"You are needed for more than killing, Astrial. Look at me--you haven't killed me yet, and I--" he broke off suddenly, glancing away. "And you make me very happy," he finished, somewhat lamely, she thought. That was not what he had started to say. She let it pass, weary of thoughts of the mercenary life.

"Come," she said and pulled him into her embrace. "Let's sleep. Eventually."

Ereden Keep was not a very interesting place, for all that it was the capital of a good-sized country. It was built more along the lines of a stronghold than a castle, and the most decorative place was the great hall. Even so, Tristorn expressed interest in the informal tour Astrial gave him.

"Here's the infirmary," she pointed out. "I personally don't trust the main healer there, but the herbalist is a sweet woman who knows the cure for just about anything. So if you need help, go to Renny."

"Do you have a healer with the Falcons?" he asked.

"We used to," she admitted, "but he was offered a comfortable position with one of the First Families of Cheris about four months ago, and we've had to make do ever since."

They moved on to the kitchens. "Here's where we'll grab some breakfast. The head cook, Heril, is the one who made that delicious roast beef last night. Heril!" she exclaimed as she walked into the room. "How're things?"

"Greets, 'Rial. How was your night?" said the cook warmly.

"The best," she said without thinking.

"Ah, the best, eh?" Heril said and winked at Tristorn.

Flustered, Astrial continued, "Can we just get some quick breakfast? I'm showing this one around the keep."

"A'course. I'll get it together for you. Hard rolls dipped in gravy sound good?"

"Sounds sublime."

"Right."

"Could I ask a favor of you, too?"

"Name it, an' we'll see what I can do."

"I was wondering if I could ask you to spare one of your kitchen lads for a few minutes each morning to send some breakfast over to my room. I'll tip him, of course."

"That's no bother. Just don't tip 'em too much, they're all greedy--and the gossip's a good enough tip that he'd do it for free," he added with another wink. Astrial grinned, accepted a basket with their breakfast, and led Tristorn out of the kitchens.

"Is that new arrangement for my benefit?" he asked.

"Mostly. But it's for mine, too. Who really wants to get out of bed every morning?"

He chuckled and took a roll from her. "Where are you taking me next?" he asked between bites.

"I thought we'd stop by the barracks. I didn't get a chance to see my men yesterday, what with court and you and all."

"I don't mean to keep you from your duties," he said seriously.

She waved a hand negligently. "My second captain is a fine man, quite capable of keeping the rest of the group on their toes. When we're stationed at a place like this, it's almost a vacation, because there's rarely any work to do. The hardest part is keeping up with exercise. I try to train with my sword every other day at the least. We all drive ourselves to be the best we can be."

They rounded a corner and Astrial reached into her pocket for a ring of keys. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open, and shouted, "Falcons ready!" There was a brief scuffle within, and then she walked in, Tristorn following close behind.

There was a main room with hallways leading off it. This was the practice room; there was no roof, so it faced the sky. The actual barracks were in a ring around the main room. Astrial's command had ordered the mercenary band to line up, weapons ready, around the practice area.

Silence stretched for a time, until the mercenary captain laughed and said, "Good drill, men. Back to what you were doing." They all relaxed and started chatting, several of them shouting, "Morning, 'Rial!" in her direction.

"These are my men," she said proudly. "We've seen a lot of battles together."

"I was wondering," Tristorn started.

"What?"

"How do you choose who to work for? Is it just on the basis that whoever comes to you first gets your services?"

"Not at all," she replied soberly. "I decided when I started that I would never work for someone that I despised, or for a cause that I believed was evil. We have never been so desperate for work that we've accepted an job from someone seeking only to further themselves at the expense of others."

"I admire that," he said simply. She smiled and turned to leave, but his touch on her arm stopped her. "Can I ask you something entirely selfish?"

"Go ahead."

"Have you ever slept with any of your men?"

Astrial was startled for a moment, and then she laughed. "No, I haven't. I've never been so desperate for a night of pleasure that I'd sacrifice the relationship I have with my men--I don't want to lose their respect for me as a leader." She pushed her unruly curls behind her ear. "Would you be jealous if I had?"

He paused, then answered, "No. That's your past, and I have my past. We have now."

She patted his arm, reflecting on how fine he looked when he was thoughtful. Actually, she admitted privately, he looks good all the time. "Would you like to see the library?" she asked. "That's nearby."

He smiled, and she thought she saw a childlike enthusiasm in his expression. "Yes, show me the library."

Leaving the Falcons' barracks behind, they crossed over to a large set of double doors. Another of the keys on her key ring unlocked them, and they entered the library.

"Beldis doesn't have the most extensive collection of books, but he does have quite a few rare editions of old manuscripts and so forth," Astrial informed him, watching his face intently. His gray eyes lit up with hunger as he looked at the books; she half expected him to lick his lips. "Maybe I'll ask the king if we can make a copy of the library key for you."

Distracted, Tristorn nodded. "I would love to go through these books," he confessed.

"I'll see that you have the chance," she told him, though in a way she was disturbed by the intensity he displayed. She frowned. "Would you like to stay here while I spend a few hours with the Falcons? I could use the practice time."

"Would that be all right?" he asked, turning to her. "I don't want to impose."

"No, it's fine. Just don't take any of the books from the library, or you'll be getting me in trouble with Beldis." She smiled at him and leaned over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Have fun," she said and started to leave, but Tristorn caught her arm.

Astrial turned back to him, a question on her lips, but he bent close and captured her mouth with his own, claiming her for--hours, minutes, maybe only seconds--before releasing her.

"Ah," she sighed. "That's a proper goodbye kiss."

A couple weeks passed in this manner, and their schedule developed a regularity that, in a way, frightened Astrial. She was accustomed to men coming and going at all hours--to have one so close by, so constantly, was quite a change.

The part that frightened her was how good it felt to have Tristorn close.

She told herself she could drop him at any time, but she was embarrassed to realize that she'd heard those same words out of the mouths of those who were addicted to strong drink. What's wrong with me? she wondered. Something's different. Is it just that he isn't like anyone I've ever met--or is it me that's changed?

Astrial stretched lazily on her bed and watched Tristorn dress. "You always wear black," she commented.

"Would you rather have me wear a different color? I'd have to buy a new wardrobe."

"No, I like black. It suits you well."

He smiled and was about to respond but an urgent knock at the door interrupted him. She stood and opened it, revealing her second in command.

"Sorry, 'Rial. I need to talk to you. Beldis sent a message that there's been activity at the Nereni border, and we're to go check it out."

"All right. Go get the men ready, I'll be there shortly." He nodded and left; she closed the door behind him and turned to Tristorn.

"Sorry, lover. I guess I'll be gone a few days. Try to miss me, all right?"

He pulled her close and said, "I'll miss you if you'll miss me."

"Agreed," she said and kissed him quickly. "I really do have to go, though."

He released her and turned away. "Be careful."

"Naturally." She hesitated a moment, watching him, but he said no more. Finally she left.

Astrial's return to Ereden Keep was not quite as triumphant as she could have wished. The Red Falcons had indeed driven the Nereni bandits out of Bryela, but on the last day a lucky archer had scored a hit on the captain herself. She truly felt the lack of a healer on the journey home--she insisted that she could ride, but every step the horse took jarred her wounded thigh, and so their pace was slow. After ten days away from the Keep, they finally returned.

Court was in session, so Astrial limped in with her second and third captains flanking her. The crowd of nobles hushed as she made her way to the king.

"Highness," she greeted him and sketched a vague bow. "We have turned the bandits back. They will trouble you no further this year."

An appreciative murmur ran through the room. King Beldis smiled warmly at her and said, "Good work, Captain Astrial. I am in your debt."

She shook her head and gave him a slight smile. "No, you have paid us. We are settled."

He chuckled. "In that case, I will take you off my payroll. You and your Falcons are still welcome in Bryela for as long as you wish."

"Thank you," she said and bowed herself away. As she left, she scanned the noble faces but saw no sign of Tristorn.

Returning to the barracks to congratulate her men and tell them to take a few days of rest, she heard loud voices coming from within. As she entered, they fell silent. Astrial smiled wryly. "I've heard all your dirty jokes already; you don't have to stop telling them when I come in."

The group of mercenaries looked uncomfortable. "We weren't telling jokes, 'Rial," one said.

"Are you keeping something from me?" she asked and raised an eyebrow.

He coughed. "No, sir. We were just catching up on the gossip about--ah--Tristorn."

"I see. And you don't want to tell me because I've been sleeping with the man."

"We don't want to hurt you, sir."

Astrial grinned. "You're good men. But I think I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She eyed her mercenaries. "What have you heard?"

They looked nervously at each other before one answered. "Some've said that he's--from the demon folk. That he has the blood of Verelan the Mad."

She nodded. "So? What if it is true? Would you judge him by it?"

Silence. Then someone said, "Evil runs in that line."

The captain surprised them by laughing. "That, my boys, is silly. A simple accident of birth doesn't make someone evil. Evil takes will, and greed, and a love of pain. If Tristorn is evil, it's not because he's descended from Verelan. It would be all on his own."

One of the men, glancing behind her, gasped. Astrial turned to see Tristorn standing in the doorway.

"They told me you were back," he said quietly.

"So I am," she agreed. To her men, she said, "I hope this is settled? Right, then." With Tristorn by her side, she left.

They walked a few paces before he stopped. "You're limping," he said.

"I know," she responded. "Stray arrow."

"We should go to the infirmary."

She shook her head. "No. The herbalist is off visiting family, I checked. I'm not trusting myself to that healer. He doesn't know the first thing about people."

He frowned. "Let's go back to your room. I'll take care of you."

Astrial smiled but did not argue.

In her room, she sat on the bed and started to unwrap her bandage. "Could you grab my pack? It's by the door. It has fresh bandages."

Tristorn sat beside her; she looked up, surprised. He was empty-handed.

"I need those bandages to take care of my leg," she said and looked at her thigh. Unwrapped, it started to bleed sluggishly. She sighed. "I suppose I'll have another scar."

He placed a hand next to the wound. "Look," he said, "it's green at the edges."

"It's what?" she exclaimed. "Gods! I didn't think--did that arrow have poison?"

"Frogroot. I'd bet on it." He looked away from her, seeming to be embarrassed by his swift diagnosis. In truth, it was an opinion based only on the color of poisoned flesh, but perhaps he knew a bit about poisons, which was nothing to be ashamed of.

She swore. "That means I will have to go to that healer--I don't have anything to take care of frogroot."

"But I do," he told her. Holding both hands a few inches above her leg, he closed his eyes. Astrial watched him curiously, but he didn't move or speak. Suddenly, her leg started to tingle--she tried to jerk away, alarmed, but he opened his eyes. "Don't," he commanded. She shivered, looking into his eyes. They were normally a clear gray, but at that moment they were entirely black, as if his pupil had dilated all the way.

The tingling in her leg increased steadily; first a pins-and-needles effect, then sharper, and harsher, and painful. Astrial sucked in a breath and held herself completely still, despite the throbbing in her thigh. Then, abruptly, the sensation ceased.

Astrial opened her eyes a fraction--she didn't remember closing them. Odd, she thought. Everything's sideways. She sat up, disoriented. "What happened?" she asked in confusion.

Tristorn placed a hand on her forehead. "You passed out," he said. "Healing does that sometimes. I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

"Yes, you should have." She glanced down at her leg, still bare. "Not even a scar," she commented. "How did you do that?"

He looked away from her. "I've always been able to do that."

"To heal people?"

With a nod, he said, "And other things. It's in my blood. I inherited certain--abilities--from Verelan. Healing is one of the most useful abilities. But I can only heal other people, never myself. You felt how it is to be healed--if I tried to heal myself, I would go unconscious, too, and then I'd likely die."

"That's amazing," was all she could say. Then she added, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

He faced her again and smiled wryly. "I generally don't tell people that I've only known a few weeks. Often they react badly."

"Why did you trust me with it now?" she asked carefully.

Tristorn gazed at her, his eyes reassuringly gray and clear. He lifted a hand to softly caress her cheek; she leaned into it. "I trust you. Maybe it has something to do with what you told your mercenaries earlier. I don't know; I just trust you."

Astrial shifted so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. "You're so strange," she said. She waited for a response but received none, so continued: "I've never met anyone like you. You're silent half the time, and the other half of the time you say exactly what I want to hear."

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry I'm strange. I was just born this way."

She chuckled and twisted out of his grasp to plant a kiss on his lips. "I think I like you strange."

Tristorn smiled slightly and then dropped his gaze to his hands. "You're taking this new development extremely well," he commented.

"You're still Tristorn," she told him reasonably. "You're--stranger than I supposed you were. But it doesn't change how I think of you."

He stood suddenly. "You need to rest more. Healing is very draining."

"All right," she said. "I'll rest." A thought occurred to her. "But you haven't been to the library since I left, have you? Unless you asked Beldis for a key?"

He shook his head. "I haven't been back."

She carefully got to her feet. "I'll rest in a few minutes--after I let you into the library."

"That isn't necessary," he protested.

"Hush. I want to. You love those books, I'm sorry to have kept you from them."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Astrial unlocked the great double doors and watched Tristorn slip gladly through them. She turned to leave, but thought of something to mention to him--however, when she circled back, he'd disappeared. Frowning, she stepped in after him and caught a glimpse of a bookcase shifting--as if it had been moved, and was moving back into place. Confused, she left, attributing it to being excessively weary.

Hours later, as the sun made itself ready to set, Astrial was rudely startled out of her sleep by a loud, booming noise. Groggily, she sat up, wondering what it was, when she heard people shouting in panic outside. All at once alert, she pulled her trousers and weapon harness on and left her room.

The courtyard was chaos. Several buildings were on fire, and people were crowding the empty space near the central fountain, most huddled in fear. Soldiers rushed by, weapons drawn. Strangely shaped shadows flitted through vacant spaces in the burning buildings; Astrial rubbed her eyes, but they didn't go away.

Despite the burning buildings, however, the most noticeable feature of the chaos lit by the setting sun was the library.

It wasn't there.

Shards of wood littered the ground, blackened and distorted. Ashes fell like rain, ornaments decorating the ruins of the library. There was a crater instead of a building, and it smoked angrily.

Astrial dashed to the library, sliding on the rubble down to the middle of the crater. The smoke lifted as she passed, revealing Tristorn standing unharmed in the center. She gaped. "Tristorn!" she cried, astonished to see him there.

He whirled and raised a hand to stop her, and she halted, several feet away. "Don't come any closer!" He spun, arms lifted, and chanted something she didn't recognize.

Something moved nearby. Swiftly she drew her sword and held it ready, wary of the shadows that she imagined were creeping closer.

Or was she imagining it? Astrial stared at one blob and compared it to a fallen timber--and it moved. It oozed towards her like black honey. "Tristorn," she called softly. "What are they?"

"Shades," he said. "Something like them, anyhow. Don't let them touch you--don't let them close at all."

"Will steel cut them?"

"Yes--no--I don't know," he replied. "But don't talk to me any more." He bent down and turned a page in the book lying open before him, then started chanting anew. It was the only book to survive the destruction, she was sure. She wondered whether the book was intact because he'd been protecting it, or whether he was still alive by virtue of the book's defenses.

Astrial hefted her sword and glanced at it, hoping the shades would be afraid of its touch. One way to find out, she thought grimly. She turned and sliced at the shadow nearest her--and it drew back with a hissing cry, as part of it fell to the ground and melted away.

She attacked any that came close to her, then. They were in no way dissuaded by the sword she carried--they seemed oblivious to it until it bit them. The shades kept coming closer, seemingly drawn to her.

With a temporary circle cleared around her, Astrial spared a glance to Tristorn. He was still chanting, faster now, and she shivered to see that his arms seemed to be glowing. But the shades were creeping close to him, too. There was one reaching for him--a few inches away--she shouted at it and leapt close, slashing down with her blade, cutting it in half.

She fought then at Tristorn's back, protecting them both from attack by shades, as his attention was wholly occupied with the spell that he was casting. Her arms began to weary, and her eyes faltered, straining to see shadows among shadows. The setting sun created specters of its own, but they were innocuous and only served to confuse her search for the shades.

After an eternity of hacking at their assailants, Astrial heard Tristorn shout three words that hurt her ears, and all the shades wailed and writhed and then dissipated entirely. He collapsed to the ground, panting, and she slid down beside him, also breathing heavily. Neither spoke.

A man made his way to them, and Astrial looked up to see her second captain. "You all right, sir?" he asked, his concern obvious.

She nodded. "Yes. How are things in the keep?"

"It was bad, sir. Those things got a few people."

Tristorn looked up at this. "Dead?"

The mercenary nodded. "When the shadows got hold of a person, the person would go all limp, and that was it. There's maybe a dozen dead. The healer, most of the infirmary servants, and Lady Orinda who was there at the time for a fever; and then some of the soldiers who got in on the defense."

"Gods," whispered Tristorn. He stood and helped Astrial to her feet, looking at her intently.

Astrial indicated that her second could leave, and he made his way back out of the crater. "What happened?" she asked Tristorn quietly.

He was silent for a time. "I can't--I have to leave. I can't be with you, I'm too--it would be dangerous. For you."

She shook her head. "Don't decide things for me."

He didn't respond. A few minutes later there was a shout from nearby--"Tristorn! Astrial!"

The pair left the ruins of the library to face King Beldis. Astrial bowed, but Tristorn stood straight. The king held himself stiffly, his normally complacent expression dark. The mercenary feared that tonight would prove to be his breaking point, that he would be unable to handle this properly.

"You," he said, pointing to Astrial, "will tell me what happened here."

She told him all she knew, from the moment she woke up until the shades were banished. Beldis looked at Tristorn, and grimly said, "You're a sorcerer."

Tristorn nodded, and a little shiver seemed to run through the few nobles and servants clustered nearby.

"You caused this," the king continued.

Tristorn softly said, "I did."

"Deliberately?"

"No! No. I was trying something. It backfired."

"What were you trying?" Beldis asked. When he received no answer, he prodded, "What did you find in the library?"

To this, Tristorn responded, "My heritage."

"Your heritage! And what is that?"

"I found a stash of books, hidden in a secret place in your library, left from the Sorcerous Wars." His head lifted defiantly, staring at the king. "From my ancestor. Verelan the Mad."

"You worked his spells! Didn't you? Admit it!"

When Tristorn said nothing, the king angrily shouted, "Sorcerer!" With the cry still lingering in the air, he grabbed Tristorn's shoulder, pulled a knife from his belt, and plunged it into the other man's stomach, twisting the blade and shoving it farther to lodge there.

Tristorn collapsed to the ground; with a cry, Astrial dropped to his side. His hand was on the knife's hilt, and he stared at her with his gray eyes open and tearless, expression mournful.

"Everyone back to your rooms!" Beldis cried. "This criminal deserves the death I've dealt him, and he will die alone and unwanted." The crowd dispersed obediently, frightened. The king stood over Astrial. "You, too, mercenary."

She bent close to Tristorn and kissed his forehead. "Do something for me," she whispered.

"Anything for you," he said, keeping his gaze fixed upon her.

"Leave the keep, go to the woods right outside to the east. Find the Sorcerer's Spring."

He nodded. "I have the strength for that."

Astrial rose and tried not to look at the blood seeping from between Tristorn's fingers. Unable to bear it any longer, she ran back to her rooms, pausing only to make sure that Beldis also left.

In her rooms, she couldn't sit still, so she paced. She couldn't believe that she'd just sent a man off in search of a children's tale. But who would have thought that magic was still in this world? Maybe the Spring was, too. She prayed that he could find it. But if he didn't--if he died from the wound the king had given him--she couldn't stand that thought. She quietly slipped from her room and made her way to the stables.

Stealing a horse was a crime, but leaving a wounded man to die alone was far more grievous, in her mind. Especially when it was a man that she cared for more than she would admit, even to herself.

Tristorn's tracks were easily found, as he was moving slowly and bleeding heavily. But the trail disappeared after only a few yards. Not knowing what to think, she shouted, "Tristorn!"

Astrial, she heard him say quietly. She whirled, but there was no sign of him. "Where are you?" she cried.

Not here, he said. My voice is within you.

"Another of your talents?" she asked inanely. There was silence, except for her horse shuffling. She set it off in a canter to where Tristorn had been headed before his trail was lost.

Suddenly, pain hit her and she doubled over in the saddle. The reins slipped out of her hand and she lost control of the horse--helpless, she toppled out of her seat and hit the ground, knocking the breath from her. The animal, already skittish for some unknown reason, took the opportunity to bolt, leaving her alone.

Forgive me, came Tristorn's voice. The pain--I am too weak to take it alone. We have shared ourselves, made a physical bond into something else; I can share my pain with you.

"Then I bear it willingly," she said, rubbing her stomach. It felt as though she were the one with the knife lodged there. Her heart also throbbed painfully, as if it was doing its best to keep beating.

His voice sounded again within her, weary and faded. I am not so strong. The pain will not last.

Astrial realized with a start that he meant to die, to leave her, to leave the sorrow he'd caused. "No!" she cried. "Where are you?"

I found the Spring, he said. You have no magic, you can't follow me.

"Like hell," she said through gritted teeth. She stood and winced as the invisible wound in her stomach protested. "If you can share your pain, I bet I can share your magic."

No response came, and that was answer enough. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to sort through her instincts. She reached mentally to where she felt Tristorn would be, and pulled.

Hearing the rush of water, she opened her eyes. A small pool bubbled up from the ground, and Tristorn sat on the other side, leaning against a rock, staring at her sadly.

"You should not have come," he said.

"There is one thing I will not accept from you," she said in an attempt at lightness, "and that is to make my decisions for me."

He remained silent, only wincing as he shifted.

She motioned to the pool, ignoring her own twinge of pain in sympathy. "Why don't you drink?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I've earned this death."

"Why?"

"I called the shades. I caused the deaths of the people in the keep."

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"No!" he replied vehemently, then groaned and rubbed his side. "I never meant to hurt anyone."

"If you didn't mean to, why should you die?"

"Because others died," he said. "They died because of me. I killed them."

She sighed. "I know that's what it feels like. I've sent my men to battles where some have died--under my orders--and I can never forgive myself. But I know that you didn't mean for anyone to die. I can forgive you."

He shook his head and didn't say anything.

"There's something more, isn't there?" she asked gently, trying to be patient but aware every second of the life leaking from him.

Tristorn nodded reluctantly. "It's me. I don't deserve to live--I only know how to cause pain. Look at you--if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be hurting."

"I agree with you," she said, "because I share your pain. But there's more to it than that. You told me once that life is more than pain--we have so much opportunity for happiness, and caring, and love. No one's life is entirely pain. Not even yours."

"But it's not like that," he protested weakly. His strength was fading quickly; the pain she shared was diminishing because of his frailty. She had to convince him before he faded away entirely.

"Why not?"

He coughed. "I have evil in me. I can only do evil--even if I don't mean to--it's in my blood." Tristorn looked down at his hands, covered with the crimson of that blood. "I'm tainted," he said softly.

"No," she told him firmly. "You're not. You told me you didn't want to hurt those people--I believe you. I trust you, I know you. You aren't evil just because you have magic. You can help people with your magic, too; you helped me, when I was wounded. Don't give up because you feel that you're worthless, because you're not." Astrial bit her lip and looked away, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"You'll be better off without me," he whispered.

"Don't say that," she replied in the same soft tone.

They were silent for a time, and then she said quietly, "I won't beg you."

He didn't answer, but he said, "Do something for me."

"Anything," she told him.

"Kiss me one last time."

Tristorn stared at the red-orange rays of the setting sun as they filtered through the trees and closed his eyes. He heard Astrial move around the pool, felt her kneeling next to him. She placed a hand on the back of his neck and bent closer to him, and he felt her lips on his. He opened his mouth to her and she kissed him, sweetly, lingeringly--and he felt warm liquid course down his throat as he swallowed reflexively.

He jerked away, his hand moving automatically to the knife embedded within him, and he found it lying on the ground. His stomach was healed; there was no more pain. Astrial had given him water from the Spring. He took up the knife wonderingly, then turned to her so suddenly that the blade in his hands--still red from his blood--flashed in the waning light and drew a red line across her arm.

"No," he cried, dropping the knife to the ground once more and taking her arm in his hands. With barely a thought he opened his mind to the magic that surrounded him and healed her, leaving only a narrow pale scar.

Astrial sat stunned, then shook her head and looked over at him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I decided for you."

Tristorn closed his eyes, feeling a wash of guilt rush over him. But in a way he welcomed it, for it meant that he was alive--and had a conscience--and could feel. "I may be glad that you did," he told her. "I didn't know it meant that much to you." He held out his hand to her, and she took it and placed a kiss in his palm.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied.

"If you didn't mean to drink from the Spring," she began, "why did you agree to find it?"

"Well," he said, looking at the pool, at the trees, anywhere but at Astrial. "Love makes you do odd things."

She laughed and pulled him close, kissing him fiercely, making his head spin. "I love you," she told him. "I hate to admit it. But I won't let it make me soft. I won't change like that."

"I wouldn't want you to," he said seriously. "I love how you are."

She gazed down at her arm, at the white mark newly visible. "Now, that was surprising. Was that my punishment for choosing your path for you? Why did you leave a scar?"

"I thought," he said slowly, "you might like to keep that one."

She smiled and glanced over at the pool. "Look, my reflection is different," she noted with surprise.

"Yes," he agreed. "One of the properties of the Spring is that it shows you who you really are."

She turned one way and the other. "I haven't got any scars," she said, delighted.

"I told you they don't define you."

"What do you look like?"

He frowned and looked at his reflection in the pool. He had no features, only a blank face. "I don't know what it means," he said.

She chuckled. "I think it means that you aren't who you thought you were. Because Verelan doesn't define you. You need to define yourself."

He thought for a moment, then stated, "I am Tristorn." The pool shimmered for a moment as if in a breeze, and when the image reformed, his reflection was the perfect semblance of himself. Chuckling, he said, "Amazing."

Astrial stood and stretched. "Mm, I feel all new. I think that spring water did me some good, too."

Tristorn also stood, a worried expression playing across his face. "Where are we going to go? I can't go back to Ereden, or to any place in Bryela, for that matter."

She shrugged. "My Falcons are free to go at any time; how would you feel about joining us in our travels south?" With a sly smile, she added, "It might do our reputation good to have a mage with us."

"Are you sure you want me with you?" he asked, suddenly full of doubt. "I can't make up for what I did tonight--I can never be free of it."

"I'm sure. I want you with me," she told him definitely. "I'd like to have you as my partner--for everything," she added, almost shyly. "I've never wanted a man like that before."

He smiled slightly, reassured. "You have me as long as you want me."

"Good," she said, pleased. "Now--how do we get home from here?"

Tristorn laughed and led them to the path back to Ereden, where she could signal her Falcons and then they could go anywhere they chose. He still felt guilt staining him, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, but for Astrial, he would endure it. And maybe someday he would earn his redemption. For now it was enough to share life with her--the chance to live.