Midwinter

Dawn filtered through the clouds that hung low over the hills north of Estacana. Away from the tents, Mauritane led Raieve and Satterly through a set of fencing drills. Raieve simply wanted the practice, and Satterly struggled to achieve some kind of fighting ability. What he lacked in experience, Mauritane noted, he made up for in ambition; he refused to rest until he displayed enough prowess to survive an actual battle. Mauritane was impressed with his progress but still not ready to hurl him toward an enemy.

Silverdun approached from Nafaeel's tent, his face red, his head held low.

"Mauritane," he said quietly. "We need to talk."

"All right," said Mauritane. He motioned for Satterly to repeat a difficult lunging drill focused on estimating attack distance. As he spoke, Mauritane walked forward a few paces and stood en garde. "What is it?"

"I'm afraid I've gotten myself involved in an impropriety."

Mauritane lowered the sword, his brows furrowing. "What have you done?"

"Nafaeel caught me in bed with his daughter."

"I see," said Mauritane. He nudged Satterly's blade. "Keep coming, Satterly."

Satterly renewed his attack, but with less force, straining to overhear the conversation.

"I'm sorry, Mauritane. Need I remind you that I haven't been with a woman in close to three years? When I came in last night, there she was, willing and able. What was I to do?"

"So you were outmaneuvered by your own cock?" said Mauritane, brushing away Satterly's thrust. Satterly chuckled.

Mauritane brought the tip of his blade down across Satterly's bare chest, leaving a scratch. "There," he said. "I just killed you."

"Why did you do that?" said Satterly. He touched his chest and winced.

"Never laugh with a sword in your hand," Mauritane answered. He dropped his blade, turning to Silverdun and looking him in the eye. "Now what? Am I to be your second in a duel?"

"Ah, not exactly," said Silverdun. He held up a poster, rendered hurriedly in ink.

Mauritane read aloud, "The Enigmatic Nafaeel presents an evening with the Bittersweet Wayward Mestina, featuring the talents of the lovely Faella and a special appearance by His Lordship Perrin Alt of Silverdun. Silverdun!" Mauritane snatched the poster from Silverdun's hand. "How do they know who you are?"

Silverdun scowled. "Faella found my picture in one of those Seelie Court papers. But listen, Mauritane. This may work out for the best."

"And how might that be?" Mauritane said.

"Nafaeel has promised us half of the proceeds of the mestina in return for my participation. He's received a message sprite from his agent in Estacana saying that the City Guard is looking for five escaped prisoners and that they're stopping everyone who tries to cross the western border into the Contested Lands."

"Meaning we'll have to bribe our way out of Estacana."

"Exactly."

Mauritane sighed. "Is there no other way to satisfy Nafaeel?"

"None that would generate such a large profit for him. Apparently the locals are infatuated with anyone related to the Seelie Court."

Mauritane handed Satterly his sword. "I wish I could say the same right now. Let's go speak with Nafaeel." He pointed at Raieve. "You and Satterly keep practicing. Try not to kill him."

When they'd gone, Raieve and Satterly took turns at Mauritane's favorite parrying drill.

"I have to admit," said Satterly between thrusts, "even after two years in this world I really don't understand Fae propriety at all."

"Most humans don't," said Raieve, easily blocking his attacks.

"What I don't get," Satterly continued, ignoring her, "is why Silverdun and Mauritane take this situation so seriously. Why don't we just ride off and leave the mestina behind? If Silverdun agrees to appear in some show, won't that jeopardize our mission?"

"It could get us killed," said Raieve. "But that doesn't matter."

"So you're saying that Silverdun has no choice?"

"That's correct. Let's switch." Raieve waited for Satterly to set himself, then leapt at him, thrusting low.

"Ow!" said Satterly. "You're not trying to kill me!"

Raieve smirked.

"Can you just explain to me why Silverdun has no choice?"

Raieve finished her thrust. "Let me make an analogy," she said. "Imagine that you were at a wedding and you had to urinate. Would you raise your tunic and piss on the bridal party?"

"Well, no," said Satterly smiling.

"Neither can Silverdun ignore his obligation to Nafaeel. As much as he'd like to do otherwise, if he is to retain any honor he must answer his impropriety."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

She lunged again, hard. "Of course it bothers me. I find Silverdun odious. But now my honor is tied with his, as is Mauritane's, as is yours."

"But I'm not Fae. I don't have any honor to wound," said Satterly.

"Truer words were never spoken," Raieve said, preparing for her next leap. "Now shut up and defend yourself!"