Free The Swordsman's Oath (Einarinn 2) by Juliet E. McKenna

have inherited without argument? After all, it’s the obstinate Lescari insistence on line-of-blood succession that started their pointless wars in the first place.
    “From what I’ve been hearing, the old Duke was almost certainly poisoned.” Halice observed as she briskly tended the chicken now split and skewered above the fire. She reached into the salt box hanging on the chimney breast and seasoned a pot seething in a trivet in the embers. “Sorgrad reckons his sons’ll start their own little war before Solstice.”
    I wondered how best to get a letter to Messire from hereabouts, and if I could warn Aiten’s family.
    “Shivvalan!” snapped Viltred. “Planir’s business is far more important than Lescar’s trivial quarrels.”
    There was an awkward silence until Livak spoke up, sarcasm coloring her tone.
    “Yes, go on, Shiv,” she invited. “But let me give you one rune for free—there’s no power this side of the Otherworld will get me mixed up with the Archmage again.”
    There was no hint of compromise in her voice. I wondered just what throw of the bones Shiv thought would get her working for wizards again.
    “Viltred here has had some valuables stolen and we were wondering if you would help us retrieve the goods.”
    Unable to conceal her start of recognition at the old man’s name, Livak characteristically went on attack. “Would you be the Viltred who used to work with that madman Azazir?”
    The old man scowled at her. “Azazir was one of the greatest minds magic has seen in ten generations, young lady—”
    “Azazir was so far beyond reason he couldn’t find it with a spy-glass and let me tell you—”
    Shiv cut in hurriedly. “Please, Livak, we really do need your help. The raiders were Ice Islanders.”
    Livak paled. “Have you got your hat over your ears? No!”
    “We’ll make it worth your while,” Shiv persisted.
    “I don’t need your coin, Shiv, or the Archmage’s,” spat Livak.
    “Think it through, Livak.” Shiv gestured with an eloquent hand. “These people can’t have been here long, not with the spring storms on the ocean only just over. We have an early scent of them—we can dig a bloody great pit for the bastards to fall into! We’ll have them by the stones, ready to squeeze!” Shiv’s face was as intense as I had ever seen it.
    “And if Planir the Black decides this bear-pit needs live bait in the bottom of it, he’ll just grab the nearest warm body and I, for one, have no intention of being around to play the goat.” Livak crossed to the hearth, defiance in every line of her stance. She drew herself up next to Halice but I saw the other woman was staring at Shiv with a concentration that startled me.
    The mage tried again. “There are things you just can’t ignore, auguries—”
    “Festival fakery, Shiv,” Livak went on, eyes hard. “I don’t want to know. And you’ve got nothing on me this time to make me. I’d sooner take my chances walking naked through a wild wood.”
    Shiv pursed his lips. “You don’t fancy the chance of getting a little revenge for Geris?”
    “I shared his bed, Shiv. That lays no obligation on me to share his fate.” Her tone was scornful. “Forget it, you can eat with us and then you get on your way.”
    With that declaration ringing in the air, she went out, slamming the door. Halice threw off a sudden abstraction and busied herself at the hearth. Raising a hand to still Shiv when he made to rise from his seat, I was glad to see he was looking faintly ashamed of himself. Trying to use Livak’s guilt over Geris’ death was a real horse-coper’s trick. I frowned at the memory of Geris’ lonely, agonized murder at Elietimm hands. I couldn’t blame Livak for her refusal, but I reminded myself sternly that the auguries suggested we needed Livak to somehow help avert disaster for the Empire, so I had to do everything in my power to convince her to join us, didn’t I? I only hoped I wasn’t borrowing against an empty