Free Path of the Sun: A Novel of Dhulyn and Parno by Violette Malan

of Menoin,” the Tarkin said. He put his hand to the dagger in his belt, and Dhulyn was afraid she would be forced to accept some jeweled monstrosity; but the weapon he handed her, except for a small horse inlaid in gold on the hilt, was plain and serviceable. And excellently balanced, she noted as she took it into her hand.
    “If you would care to partake of refreshment before you depart, the Steward of Walls is ready to entertain you in the guard’s hall.”
    “Thank you, Lord Tarkin.” Dhulyn and Parno both touched their foreheads.
    “And that sends us on our way with bells ringing,” Parno muttered in the nightwatch voice as they exited.
    They were just passing between the guards at the door when they heard voices coming from the antechamber.
    “I understood there are Mercenary Brothers meeting with the Tarkin.”
    “That’s not quite right, Scholar, they—”
    Dhulyn walked faster, stepping through the door before the guard had it fully open. She knew that voice, the words clipped but the tone not unpleasant. Did this explain her Vision?
    “Wolfshead.” The young man moving toward her with his arms outstretched was thinner than she remembered him, but his blue Scholar’s tunic and brown leggings were crisp and freshly laundered. Something in her face must have warned him, for Gundaron glanced at Parno as he let his arms fall. Parno, laughing, advanced on the youngster, clapping him on the shoulders.
    “Gun. By the Caids, man, what’s a Scholar from Valdomar doing here in Menoin?”
    “And the little Dove, is she with you?” Dhulyn approached closer, keeping an eye on the guards who were watching them.
    “The Library of Valdomar sent us. We have rooms at the Horse and Rider, off the main square.” He looked from one to the other with a grin wide enough to split his face. “I heard there were Mercenary Brothers with the Arderons, but I never dreamed it would be you.”
    Dhulyn, smiling herself, turned to the guard nearest them. “Thank the Steward of Walls for his offer of hospitality, but as you can see, we have found friends of our own.”
    “We will accompany you to the gate,” the man said.
    “Of course.” She turned back to Parno and Gun. “We’re not keeping you from business here in the palace?”
    “No, I came expressly to speak with you.” Gun’s grin faltered a moment. “Well, the Mercenary Brothers anyway.” Dhulyn touched him on the shoulder to show she understood. Whatever had brought Gun looking for Mercenary Brothers, he had no wish to share it with the Tarkin’s Guard.
    It was not until they had retrieved their horses and were leading them through the relative privacy of the streets outside the palace that Dhulyn felt they could speak more freely.
    “Is it your Mark we’re not to speak of?”
    Gun waved this away. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, not anymore. It’s just that I’m here as a Scholar, and I’ve learned since we were last together that if people know I’m a Finder, I don’t get any Scholar’s work done. The Library at Valdomar gives me many freedoms and privileges—thanks in part to you two—but they still expect me to produce work for them.”
    Dhulyn nodded. That made sense. Prejudice against the Marked had been on the rise a few years before, but the failure and eventual dying out of the New Believers—a sect of the Jaldeans—had put an end to that. People were unlikely to take against those who could Mend, or Find, or Heal, and if there were no longer many Seers to be found, well, people were well used to that.
    Not that there weren’t always a few, Dhulyn knew, who were afraid of the uncanny and even the uncommon. Still, Gundaron was right. If people knew he was a Finder, they’d be coming to him for service all the time. In fact, now that she knew he was here, she felt more confident of finding their missing Brothers.
    “But you knew you would Find Mercenary Brothers at the Palace?” she asked. “You merely did not know who it would