The Door Into Shadow

— the courtyard is fairly large, but its size is no help; there's nowhere to hide from Shihan's sword, which is everywhere at once. She dances back and swings her wooden practice sword up in a desperate block — a mistake, for no conscious act can possibly counter one of Shihan's moves. He strikes the prac-tice sword aside with a single scornful sweep of Clothespole, then smacks her in the head with the flat in an elegant back-hand — a blow painful enough to let her know she's in dis-grace. Segnbora sits down hard with the shock of it,

saying hello to the hard paving of the practice yard for the millionth time.

"Idiot," Shfhan growls. He is a Steldene, black-haired, dark-skinned, with a broad-nosed face, a bristly mustache, and fierce brown, eyes. He stands right over her — a great brown cat of a man; lithe, muscular, and dangerous-looking. He is utterly contemptuous. "'When will you learn to stop thinking!" He glares at her. "Save thinking for your bardcraft and your sorcery and the Fire you keep chasing, but don't bring it here! Sweet Lady of