The Riven Shield: The Sun Sword #5

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Authors: Michelle West
turned her gaze to Finch. “I have my reasons.” It was as close to
shut up
as The Terafin ever got.
    “Give me your sword, ATerafin.”
    Again he hesitated.
    As if he knew what she was about to do.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    E LLERSON knew many things, but the things that came to him through the mixture of experience, familiarity and observation were often the most poignant.
    He knew, for instance, as he stood beneath the moon’s full light, that his sole companion had never been allowed to attend The Terafin at the shrine of Terafin. Morretz did not feel compelled to impart this information and Ellerson did not ask for it; it came to him in the line of shoulder and chin, the widening and narrowing of eyes, the compression of lips and the stillness, the absolutely stillness of arms, weighted by fists, as they rested at Morretz’s sides.
    This man had been his student so long ago memory had worn the sharper edges away from the experience. What remained, for so many years, had been pride.
    That pride was now replaced; it had been shunted forcefully to one side by a bitter, bitter regret. “Morretz,” he said quietly, for this was possibly the only opportunity he would have to speak so freely; they were men indentured by their word to the service of masters who required both vigilance and presence, and if Ellerson might be willing to leave the side of his den—yes, after all these years, his—to offer counsel or guidance to Morretz, he was certain that Morretz would never again willingly leave the side of The Terafin to seek it.
    Morretz did not look away. But he nodded.
    “There is a place for you,” the older man said quietly, “within the Guild of the Domicis. You have served only one master, and that master is a master of note. You have seen much, and that experience—”
    Morretz lifted a hand, although his attention seemed absorbed by the conversation—if it were that, between a woman of The Terafin’s station and that of Jewel’s den—unfolding in the distance.
    Ellerson knew well that a domicis did not require the ability to hear in order to follow a conversation, but he did require clear vision, an unimpeded line of sight. The distance, and the night sky, denied Morretz that. But he did not look away.
    Ellerson did. He studied the profile of this former student, the line of his nose, the rise of his chin, the slight furrowing of brow that had probably become a permanent landmark in the vistas of his expression. And he surrendered with grace.
    “Teller told me,” he said quietly.
    Morretz frowned. “Told you?”
    Ellerson did not reply, willing to let the conversation go if Morretz was unwilling to share its weight.
    But Morretz closed his eyes a moment; it was as much a turning away from his duties as he would now allow himself.
    He will be devoured
, Ellerson thought.
He will be devoured and he will allow himself nothing
.
    “Teller ATerafin is the heart of Jewel ATerafin’s den,” Morretz said quietly. “He sees much, and he usually hoards knowledge unless it is necessary that another know it. I am . . . grateful that you chose to return.”
    “Not, I am certain, as grateful as they are.”
    That teased a smile from the corner of Morretz’s lips; a twitch of motion. But the smile itself never reached the rest of his face.
    “What do you desire now?” Ellerson asked him, softly.
    “What I have always desired,” was the quiet reply. “To serve
her
. To help her attain what she envisions.”
    “And if you cannot have that, what?”
    “What else is there? I have trained for nothing else. Remove that from me and I have nothing to offer.”
    Ellerson knew it was futile, but he tried. “The guild values you enough that what you offer would be accepted without reservation.”
    “Ellerson, you know as well as I that there are perhaps a handful of teachers within the hall of the domicis who chose to serve a single lord. And of those, not one lost their lord to war or violence.”
    Ellerson nodded,

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