Free The Rival by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

his skills as Rocaan will never have to be tested."
    "Well, I don't think it matters much to us in any case," Yeon said.  "What matters is getting rid of those Fey once and for all."
    "And you think your tactics will do it?"
    Yeon nodded. 
    "You don't think they're prepared for an assault?"
    "I think they've lost their preparedness.  So many of them have gone Outside anyway.  The rest seem to have forgotten why they came.  I think we can get them, yes."
    "And if your method fails, then what?"
    Yeon narrowed his eyes.  "I think you're too frightened, holy man."
    "And I think you're too rash."  Circles.  They had been going in these circles forever.  Matthias wiped his damp hands on his own filthy pants. "Get me my sword and I'll get you your holy water.  Let's do this before the winter rains begin."
    "I won't work on the sword.  I'll get someone else to." Yeon spoke as if that were a bad thing.  Matthias merely nodded.  He had wondered if part of the problem were Yeon, but hadn't quite known how to go around him.
    "Do what you have to," Matthias said.  "The quicker we get a sword, the quicker you get to attack the Fey."
    "The less chance the King's men catch us, too."
    Matthias laughed.  "The King's men have no idea that we exist.  You worry too much, Yeon."
    "His children  — "
    "Aren't our targets.  They'll have no kingdom if the Fey go."
    Yeon nodded.  He turned back toward the smoldering forge, then stopped.  "Why'd you agree to this now?"
    Matthias froze.  Sometimes, Yeon was smarter than Matthias gave him credit for.  "I'm sorry?"
    "You've been fighting me for nearly six months on my plan.  Why give in now?"
    "Because," Matthias said, "something tells me we have to move quickly."  That much was true.  He hoped that Yeon would ask no more.
    "I've had that feeling too," Yeon said.  He walked across the wet straw.  Strands stuck to his feet.
    "Yeon, do me one more favor," Matthias said.
    Yeon stopped.  He kept his back to Matthias as if he were expecting this to be the real reason that Matthias gave in.
    "Get me some strands of green ota leaves."
    "I'd have to send someone to the Cliffs," Yeon said.
    "Do that."  Matthias smiled.  "I want to hold a feast."
    Yeon shrugged and went into the smithy.
    Matthias watched him go.  If they couldn't make a Sword that worked, they could try another Secret.  The Feast of Living would do nicely.  The followers wouldn't even know he was experimenting.
    Therefore, only he would know if he succeeded.
     

 
     
     
    EIGHT
     
    Miserable smelly villages.  Rugad wore his fighting boots, the ones the Domestics had spelled to keep clean in all conditions, mud, blood, and piss.  This village had more piss running down its middle than any he had seen on Galinas. 
    That wasn't entirely true, of course.  Poverty in any country smelled the same. 
    He crossed the river of waste running down the  middle of the street and headed toward Shadowlands.  It was behind the tottering, and now empty, kirk.  Appropriate, he thought, considering what he planned to do to this religion that had cost him so much grief.
    And given him such an opportunity.
    He waved a hand to open the Circle Door as he went.  The door, a collection of blinking lights a moment before, widened into a full circle, surrounded by lights.  It opened like a mouth behind the tottering kirk and he dove in, rolling on the opaque floor and coming up inside his tent.  He still didn't trust these villagers enough to camp in their buildings.
    Since he arrived, he had created eight Shadowlands, one for each village along the Snow Mountains.  There were other assemblies of huts, places so small they didn't even have names, but those residents didn't seem to care who ruled them as long as those people provided food.  The attitude and the poverty here shocked him.  He had thought Blue Isle rich.  That's what the Nyeians had told him.  Somehow he hadn't thought poverty a part of life here.
    But it