All Things Begin - The Anmah Series Book 1

The next moons were everything Ga’briyel could have asked for. There were no more raiding parties to fight, his classes were going as well as could be expected considering he was teaching people who had never fought in their lives, and the Council—the group of ten women who had taken over the governing of the town—had things in Grama running quite smoothly. Mathi and Zahin were turning out to be quite adept at fighting, both with weapons and without. Telantes had said Mathi would be a warrior, and it seemed Zahin had the potential to be the same. The younger boy certainly needed little instruction with the bow. Ga’briyel was more relaxed than he had been since before leaving Torkeln, and his friends noticed. Dinton even joked that he was getting soft, but Ga’briyel quickly proved that he was not as he put his friend in a headlock and forced him to beg to be let go. Nikale mentioned that the boys who had wanted to kill him when he had first arrived now looked up to him as their hero; Sophyra was smiling and laughing, which, in turn, made him smile and laugh; and Dinton and Tero were healing nicely.

One sennight before two moons were up, Tero had his splint removed, and he immediately asked Ga’briyel to help him bring his leg back up to full strength, so the two of them spent three hours each day going through the sword and weaponless patterns that all guardsmen were taught. They started with the basics that every Chatra learned first and slowly worked their way through them to the more advanced ones. By the time Dinton was able to join them two sennights later, they were sparring as if nothing had happened, but Dinton had to start at the beginning again, so they did, too.

They had been in Grama for a little less than three moons when Ga’briyel saw Sophyra standing on the edge of the square where they practiced, her hands clenched and shaking as she watched them go through the patterns. He could feel her anxiety and unease inundate him.

“Stop,” he said, holding up his hand and wiping the sweat out of his eyes. All three men were shirtless, despite the chill in the early morning autumn air, and moisture gleamed on their bare torsos as it ran down to soak into their breeches. The other two captains dropped the points of their swords toward the ground and looked at him in confusion. “Something is wrong.” He sheathed his sword and walked to his heart. As he got closer, the sensations of her fear and worry were added to the others, and he hurried to cover the remaining distance between them. “Sophyra, what is the matter?”

“May I talk to you, Ga’briyel? Alone?”

“Of course.” He took her arm and led her across the square. He placed himself between her and his friends and cupped her cheek in his hand. “What is it?”

“I am afraid you will be angry when I tell you.”

“Tell me what?” When she was silent, he sighed. “Sophyra, talk to me. I promise I will not be angry.”

“I…” She stopped and took a deep breath. Then she stood up straight and looked him in the eye. “I want to get married.”

“Really?” Ga’briyel could not keep the shock off his face or out of his voice.

“Yes. I have waited for you to ask me, but Nikale convinced me that I should speak up and ask you instead. I love you, Ga’briyel Mistri el’Adama, and I want to be your wife.” Then she smiled. “Will you marry me?”

“No.”

Her smile disappeared faster than a poka bug obliterated by a candle’s flame, and tears filled her eyes. “No? Why not?”

He trailed his thumb across her cheekbone and then said, “Because you should never have had to ask.” He dropped to his knees and took both her hands in his before placing his forehead on the backs of them. “I am so sorry, my heart. I should have asked you long ago.” He raised his head and gazed up at her. “Sophyra me’Dirgha el’Jonsa el’Sala, will you grant me the privilege of being your husband? Please?”

The smile returned, and she nodded as her tears trickled down her cheeks. “Yes, Ga’briyel.” When he grinned, she said, “Although, I probably should have made you beg for a little bit after telling me no like that.”

“That would have been cruel,” he said, standing up and taking her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. Then he kissed her softly. “I love you, my heart. When shall we have the ceremony?”

“I have no idea. I do not remember much about the weddings in Desa. I was far too young to pay attention to things like that.”

“So was I. I guess we will just have to come up with our own ideas, then. Let me get my shirt, and we can talk.”

“No, you go back to your practice. I will take care of everything. I remember that much, at least. The women do all the work. All the man has to do is show up at the right time and say the right words.”

“Are you sure? I do not mind helping you.”

“I am sure. Leave everything to me. I will let you know what you need to do and when. Until then, do not worry about anything. I am sure Nikale will have some good ideas.”

“All right. If you say so.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I will not interfere.” He gave her one more kiss before she walked back into the house, the bright smile lighting up her face competing with the violet blaze of her eyes. There were no more negative emotions coming from her, but the titali bugs were back, and he knew she was laughing at him inside. He could not keep the grin off his own face as he went back to his friends and drew his sword.

“What was that all about, Mistri?” Dinton asked as he raised his weapon.

“Nothing,” Ga’briyel said. “We are just getting married.”

“What? When?”

“I do not know. Sophyra is going to figure that out. As a matter of fact, she told me to back off and that she would take care of everything. Now come on, we need to do that last pattern again. You still need to build up the strength in your arms.”

The next three hours were spent going through all thirty-four sword patterns, twelve guard patterns, and fifteen weaponless patterns. Dinton was getting stronger every day, but he was still much weaker than he had been when they left Torkeln. Ga’briyel told him they would stay in Grama as long as was necessary for him to get back to his original strength, whether that be six moons or twelve, unless Yisu or Telantes told him differently. By the time they finished, Dinton was breathing heavily, and as he slid his sword into its scabbard, his hand shook slightly.

“Dinton, are we pushing you too hard?” Tero asked as he stared at him. “You have got to tell us if we are.”

“No, I am fine. It is just taking a bit longer than I thought it would to heal completely.” When Tero frowned at him, he grinned. “Really; I am fine.”

“All right, if you say so, but promise me you will speak up if you are having trouble with anything.”

“Yes, Baba, I promise.”

Tero returned the grin and took a swing at the younger man, who ducked and darted away with a laugh. When they entered the house, they could hear the women talking in the kitchen, and the joy that flowed over Ga’briyel caused him to smile as widely as his friends. The three friends went to their rooms to clean up, but while Ga’briyel knew the other two would probably take a bath, he just ran a damp cloth over his chest and back and put on his shirt. He had three classes to teach, one before midmeal, and a full wash would be wasted.

Four hours later, he was finishing up his last class of the day, which Sophyra was in, and when he dismissed the other students, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to himself, wrapping his arms around her.

“So, what did you and the others decide, Sophyra? When are we getting married?”

“Well, I had thought it would take a while to get everything together, but Nikale assured me that it would not take long at all. She said that if you and I agree, she will perform the ceremony for us tomorrow at last light.”

“That soon? Do you not have preparations to make? Food to cook and decorations and all that?”

Sophyra laughed. “You do realize this town’s population is mostly made up of women, do you not? I think between us all, we can get it done.” She gazed up at him with bright eyes. “Will you marry me tomorrow, Ga’briyel?”

He grinned. “Yes, my heart. It would be my honor to marry you tomorrow. Is there anything I need to do?”

“Just cancel your classes and keep yourself busy until last light.”

He gaped at her. “How am I supposed to do that? That is an awfully long time to keep busy doing nothing.”

She shrugged. “You have not spent much time in the library. Perhaps you can see what kinds of books Dahaka liked.”

With a grimace, Ga’briyel said, “I doubt we share the same taste in books, but I guess I could try.”

“Good!” she answered with a smile. She raised herself up on her toes and kissed him briefly. “I will go tell Nikale now. Why do you not bathe and then tell Dinton and Tero the news?”

His eyes glowing, he watched her enter the house, and then he stood in the middle of the square and started through the weaponless patterns again. He was well past the point where he needed the patterns to learn technique, but they helped him relax and kept him sharp. He was about halfway through them when he sensed someone watching him. As he continued through the intermediate ones and started on the advanced, he opened his mind to Mathi and Zahin, who were standing to the side watching him intently.

Both boys’ images were of themselves doing the same patterns just as well as he was, and he smiled to himself even as he spun and leapt and punched and kicked his imaginary opponents. If the boys continued learning at the same rate they had been, it would not take long before they were able to do what their minds were imagining. They were each more than capable of becoming incredible warriors with more practice, and Ga’briyel had been teaching them extra moves and countermoves after his classes were done. He knew that was what they were waiting for, but he outwardly ignored them until he finished the last pattern. Only then did he turn to them and smile.

“What would you boys like to learn today?”

Zahin pointed at him. “Can we learn that?”

Ga’briyel laughed. “Not all of them, no, but I could show you the first one. When you master that, we will move on to the next one.”

He started showing the boys the first moves of the first pattern, and then Mathi spoke. “Is it true, Captain Mistri? Are you marrying Sophyra tomorrow?”

“I am. Who told you?”

The boy grinned. “Everyone knows. A secret like that is very hard to keep, especially since it is good news. We have not had much of that in our lives.”

Adjusting Mathi’s stance slightly, Ga’briyel said, “How old were you when you became a slave, Mathi?”

Frowning, the boy answered, “I have always been a slave, Captain. I was born a slave. My mother was a slave, and my father was her master. He was one of the men you killed the first night. He raped my mother when she was thirteen, and I was the result.”

Ga’briyel’s eyes blazed with the thought that someone could be born into slavery, but he kept his voice calm. “And you Zahin? What is your story?”

“I am a citizen, Captain Mistri. My father was one of Dahaka’s companions. My parents were both citizens, and so am I.”

“Well,” the Anmah said, straightening the younger boy’s wrist as he simulated a punch, “now everyone is a citizen. How do you feel about that?”

Zahin smiled brightly. “I like it, sir! Before, I would not even have been able to talk with Mathi, but now he is my friend. Right, Mathi?”

The question had a touch of apprehension in it, but when the older boy answered in the affirmative, the younger one grinned widely. It occurred to Ga’briyel then that probably neither boy had ever had a friend before, and he felt a warm rush fill him at the thought that he had made their friendship possible.

They spent another hour with the patterns, and then Ga’briyel saw Sophyra in the doorway of the house. She was leaning against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest, and he thought she had never before looked so beautiful. He grinned as he dismissed the boys and crossed the square. He rested his arm on the frame above her head and looked down at her.

“One more day and you will be Sophyra Mistri si’Adama, and we will celebrate by spending a sennight in our room.”

“And what about eating during that sennight?” She grinned up at him.

He shrugged. “Dinton and Tero can bring us food.” He ran one hand over her shoulder and down to her hand before lacing his fingers with hers. “I won’t want to leave our bed.”

She laughed at that. “You do not want to leave it now, Ga’briyel. I do not foresee marriage changing that at all.”

“No,” he said with a smile, “but marriage will give me an excuse to keep you to myself for a long while.”

They went inside, and Ga’briyel asked her if she would please get him some hot water for a bath, and then he went upstairs to their bathing room. There were two such rooms on the second floor, and he had claimed one of them as theirs. He was pulling his shirt over his head when Sophyra entered with a large kettle that had steam rising from the spout. He took it from her, kissed her soundly, and thanked her. Then he emptied it into the water that was already in the copper tub in the middle of the room. He was about to rid himself of his breeches when he realized she was still there.

“Are you staying?” he asked. “Would you like to bathe with me?”

“No. I have too many things to do before the ceremony tomorrow.” She did not move.

“Then why are you still here?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Just admiring the view.”

He grinned, stood up straight, and spread his arms wide. “It is all yours for the asking, my heart.”

She laughed, and, instead of going to him as he was expecting, turned on her heel and left the room, firmly shutting the door behind her. Ga’briyel chuckled, peeled off the rest of his clothing, and settled into the tub with a satisfied sigh. After twenty minutes of soaking, he picked up the soap and started cleaning himself. It was only after he was finished that he realized he had forgotten to grab clean clothing, so he stepped out of the tub, wrapped a towel around his hips, gathered up his dirty clothes, and peeked out of the bathing room into the hallway. No one was around, so he walked down the hall toward his room. He had almost reached it when the door opened and Sophyra stepped out, a bundle of something in her arms. She stopped when she saw him, and her eyes blazed, but once again, she turned her back on him and disappeared down the stairs. He frowned and entered the room to dress. Were all women this crazy right before their weddings? He could not remember the weddings in Desa, so he had no idea if her behavior was normal or not.

Ten minutes later, he made his way down the stairs and went to the kitchen to find something to eat. He had taken one step inside when Badami, his cook, appeared in front of him, one hand on her hip and the other brandishing a wooden spoon. “You are not allowed in here, Captain Mistri,” she said, almost hitting him with the spoon.

“But I am hungry,” he protested, but she frowned at him, and he took a step back out of the door.

“Whining is not attractive in a grown man, Captain, and if you expect me to get everything ready for tomorrow’s ceremony, you will have to eat somewhere else.” With that, she shut the door in his face.

“Just where exactly am I supposed to go?” he muttered irritably. He stormed through the front room and exited the house, grumbling to himself.

“She would not let you in either, would she?” His head came up, and he growled at Dinton, who was grinning at him. “Come on, Mistri. I know where you can get something to eat.” He turned and walked toward the western gate. Still grumbling, Ga’briyel followed him. Titali bugs from Sophyra he expected, but he could not handle them from his friend right now.

“Stop laughing at me, Sekara. It is not funny. I have been kicked out of my own house to scrounge for food in the streets like a beggar.”

Dinton looked over his shoulder at him. “Did you hear me laugh?”

“I do not have to hear it, Captain; I can feel it. You think this is humorous.”

His friend shrugged and smiled. “Maybe a little. Besides, you do not need to scrounge. Telara told us she would take care of us until the wedding feast tomorrow.”

“She did, did she? When was this?”

“While you were working with Mathi and Zahin. She noticed that Badami was too busy preparing for tomorrow to cook anything for us, so she offered to do it.”

Dinton led Ga’briyel to a home on the outer circle a few doors down from the new western gate. One of the first things Ga’briyel had done was to supervise the building of gates for the entrances to the town. Previously, they had had nothing to keep invaders out; the Asabya had relied on their watch towers and reputation to keep them safe. Now, however, once the people of the plains heard that the men were dead, some of them might take it into their heads to exact revenge on the remaining population. Therefore, Ga’briyel had spent nearly a moon helping the townsfolk cut down trees and fashion sturdy gates that would keep out just about anything and anyone. His additional hope was that by the time he left the town, the people would have enough fighting skills that they could at least hold fast against anyone who managed to get past the walls and the gates.

Now, however, he was just hungry, so he followed Dinton into the house. He took a deep breath, his stomach growling at the aroma of the stew that was bubbling over the fire and the fragrance of freshly baked bread.

“Telara, I have brought him.” The titali bugs flew around Ga’briyel faster, and he punched Dinton in the shoulder. “Ow!” His friend grinned as he rubbed his muscles. “What was that for?”

“You are laughing at me again,” Ga’briyel growled, but he grinned back.

Dinton looked properly offended. “Telara, did you hear me laugh? I think you are imagining things, Mistri.”

“Not likely.” Ga’briyel looked at the mistress of the house. She was standing by the hearth, stirring the stew. He guessed that she was about his mother’s age. Her long, dark hair, streaked with silver strands, fell like a waterfall to her waist, and her eyes were a brilliant green that shone with humor. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Telara, and I thank you heartily for being willing to feed us.”

She smiled at him. “I do not know what it is like to prepare for a wedding, Captain, but I cannot say that I blame Badami for not wanting to spend time she does not have to feed you and your men. I, on the other hand, have nothing to do until tomorrow, so I am happy to help you. After all, if it were not for you, I would still be spending my life in fear of my husband and sons. A little stew and bread is small thanks for what you have done for this town and its people. Come and sit, please." She gestured toward a wooden table, and the men sat down as she placed two bowls of stew in front of them along with a plate of sliced bread and butter.

"Will you eat with us?" Dinton asked as she moved to a stool by the fire.

"Oh, no, sir, I could not do that."

"Why not?"

"Because it is not allowed. Women do not eat with men. They eat afterward."

Ga'briyel frowned and turned toward her. "You mean it was not allowed before. Now it is. Please, join us."

She looked startled for a moment, and then she filled a third bowl from the bubbling kettle and sat down at the end of the table between the two men. She gave them a grateful look, and anger threatened to build inside Ga'briyel, but he forced it down and smiled at her. His eyes blazed briefly, however, and she averted her eyes. The Anmah sighed and took a bite of the stew.

"This is delicious, Telara. Thank you again," he said, and she looked up at him and smiled a little.

"I am glad you like it, Captain." She looked like she was about to say more when there was a knock at the door. She quickly rose from the table and went to see who it was. "Captain Mistri," she said, her smile a little bigger, "there is someone here who wants to talk to you." She moved aside, and Ga'briyel saw Sophyra in the doorway.

He wiped his mouth and stood. Burning pinpricks, different from the prickling of the Azazil, began to cover his skin, and as he walked to the door, he noticed that Sophyra was practically scowling. He frowned and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

"What is wrong?"

"I have been looking for you everywhere, Ga'briyel," she said, and the burning intensified.

"Why? You told me to stay out of your way, and that is what I am doing."

"I did not mean for you to do it in another woman's house!"

Ga'briyel pressed his lips together in an attempt not to laugh at her. "You are jealous? Of who? Telara? For Yisu's sake, Sophyra, she is old enough to be my mother! Besides, our darling Badami would not feed me and told me to get last meal somewhere else, so Dinton brought me here."

He was obviously failing at his effort to stay serious because she slapped him on the arm. "You had better not laugh at me, Ga'briyel Mistri!"

"I am not," he said, but he had to bite his bottom lip to keep his statement from becoming a lie. Then he took her face in his hands. "Listen, Sophyra, I love you. I would never do anything with another woman. You do not have to be jealous of anyone. No one could ever take your place." He dipped his head and kissed her. Her hands gripped his upper arms, and when he released her, the pinpricks were almost gone, and there was a smile on her lips.

"I am sorry, my love, but when I found Tero in that other woman's house and then you here, I got angry. I know you would not hurt me like that. I do not know what has come over me."

"I do," he said, and he chuckled. "You are a woman about to get married. I have heard of strange things happening before weddings, and now I have been witness to one of them." He paused then, registering what she had just said. "Wait, Tero is in someone else's house? Whose?"

"Alibhiya's." Sophyra grinned. "At least I did not find you there. She is only old enough to be your sister."

"Well, you have nothing to worry about. It will be you that I marry tomorrow, not Alibhiya and definitely not Telara. Now, why were you looking for me?”

“Oh, I just wanted to know where you were. Mathi saw you leave the square with Dinton, and I was curious as to why.”

Ga’briyel’s eyebrows rose, and he stared at Sophyra incredulously. “That is it? You were just curious?” She nodded, and he grinned. “Does that mean I can go back inside and eat? I think I got a bite or two before your jealousy covered me. It was not pleasant, you know.”

“I cannot imagine it would have been,” she said, raising herself up on her toes to kiss him. “Do not be too late.”

“My word on it,” he said, holding her close. “I will be back home after I eat, but I do not suppose I will see much of you tonight, will I?”

“Of course you will. I have to sleep, too.” She stepped away from him and disappeared around the corner, glancing back at him once with a smile.

He entered the house again and sat back down at the table. “Women!” he muttered.

“Excuse me?” Telara frowned at him as she put his bowl back in front of him, but he felt the titali bugs. He hoped they were from her and not Dinton.

"Sorry, Mistress Telara, I did not mean to offend you," he said with a grin. "Are all women this crazy before their weddings?"

"I could not say. There were no weddings among the Asabya. If a man wanted a wife, he simply took her. She had no say in the matter.”

He thought about that as he ate the stew Telara had wisely returned to the pot over the fire. He could not really imagine how horrible life for these women and children had been before they came, and he did not want to. He ate in silence while Dinton and Telara talked about everything from the Palace Guard to the best herbs to put in a stew. When he was finished eating, he pushed the bowl away from him and leaned back in his chair. Telara smiled at him.

“Had enough, Captain Mistri?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, but I should be getting home now. I told Sophyra I would not be late.”

Dinton snorted. “She is already pushing you around, Mistri. What is next? Are you going to rub her feet and wash her back at the end of a long, hard day?”

“Gladly, Sekara. As long as she does the same for me occasionally,” Ga’briyel said with a grin. He stood, clapped his friend on the back, and left the house. He took his time getting back to the center of town, walking all the way around the outer circle back to the western gate and then doing the same for the inner circles. He listened as he walked, and he heard some things that this town and its people had probably never heard before. He heard children giggling. He had not heard any actual laughter yet, but that would take a while. He also heard women talking excitedly about the ceremony tomorrow. He had a feeling that they were not allowed to talk much before he had come, and it warmed his heart to hear them.

He was almost finished with the last street when a little voice behind him called out, “Captain Mistri! Wait!”

He turned around with a smile as Nayna ran up to him, her eyes shining. He bent down on one knee, and she threw her tiny arms around his neck. He returned the hug and then pushed her back.

“What are you so happy about, little one?”

She bounced on her toes as she said, “Wamil, Heena, and I get to be in your wedding tomorrow!”

“Is that so? And what will your duties be?”

She grinned. “I cannot tell you. Sophyra said it has to be a secret, but we get new dresses!”

Ga’briyel picked her up and sat her on his knee. “I am happy for you, Nayna. Now, tell me, how are the nightmares?”

He had expected her grin to fail, but it stayed on her face. “I have not had one in two sennights, and Wamil and Heena stopped having them almost a moon ago.” She laid her head against his chest. “Thank you for saving us, Captain Mistri.”

Holding her head to himself, Ga’briyel smiled. The three little girls had been taken in by Phula, a young woman who had been beaten often by her husband for her failure to give him children. He had beaten her so severely the last time, just days before Ga’briyel killed him, that he damaged her left arm to the point that it did not work anymore and hung limply at her side. The little ones did not seem to even notice, and they were fitting in with the townspeople quite well.

“You are welcome, Nayna.” He set her on her feet and ruffled her hair. “Now, I must go. Sophyra is waiting for me.”

“And you cannot keep her waiting, right?”

“No,” he laughed, “I cannot.” He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and stood. “I will see you tomorrow, Nayna, in your new dress.”

That earned him another grin, and she turned and ran back to her home. As he started toward his home, he knew that saving those little girls was one of the best things that had happened since coming to Grama. He knew that they would have been trained like Sophyra if he had not been there, and it made him feel good to know they would never have to go through what she had.

When he reached the square, he was humming to himself with a smile on his face, and he did not stop as he walked through the front door of his house. Even the slithering worry of the ladies of the house, tempered though it was with joy and excitement, was not enough to dampen his mood. He knew it was just worry about getting everything accomplished before the next day’s last light. Walking up the stairs and into the library, he was not at all surprised that he had not seen Sophyra. He had not expected to. Even though she had said she needed sleep, he knew there was a lot to do before the ceremony the next night, and he doubted she would get much. Walking to the shelves, he looked at the titles embossed on the leather bindings and was surprised to see that most were the same as the books in his father’s library in Torkeln. He had expected to see books about Sayatan or other evil topics, but as he walked around the room, he saw The Great Woundhealer, The Dragon’s Sky, and The Game’s Razors, all books that he had read as a child. He scanned the shelves for a while longer until he saw a book he had not read since he was eight. The Walk of the Magician had been one of his favorite books, and he took it from the shelf. Settling himself on the couch, he began to read.

Hours later, after lighting the lamp on the table next to him as the light faded outside the room’s single window, he finished the book and realized how late it was. He set the book next to the lamp, walked to the window, raised the sash, and breathed the night air as he rested his hands on the sill. He did not know how long he stood there, thinking about how much had changed since leaving Torkeln. No one had really understood what being a Sainika meant, not even Ma’ikel, but he had a better understanding of it now, and he wished that were not the case. He had heard stories of Daitya and Debaduta, but now he had actually met both and killed the former. He had never heard of Azazil before arriving in Grama, and he wondered what other evil was in the world that no one had knowledge of. He shuddered as he thought that he would probably find out soon.

He stood there silently, staring out into the night, wishing the impossible, getting angrier and angrier since he knew the impossible was exactly that. He heard the door open, but he did not move, and he felt Sophyra’s love envelop him before he felt her arms encircle his waist. Her hands came up to his chest, and she rested her head on his back. His right hand rose to cover both of hers, but other than that, he did not move or say anything.

“What are you thinking, my love?” she asked softly.

“I am thinking that I am happy, Sophyra. Happy and content.”

“Then why are you so tense?”

He sighed and dropped his head. “Because I know it cannot last. Someday soon we will leave Grama and there will be more people to kill, more Daitya and Azazil to vanquish, more pain, and more deaths. For me definitely, and probably for you.” His hand tightened on hers. “I do not want that, Sophyra! Why can we not just stay here and live in peace for a hundred years or two hundred? Why did Yisu not make some five hundred year old Anmah His Sainika? Someone who has already lived and done everything they wanted to do. Why did it have to be me?” His eyes burned with tears of frustration, and he was glad Sophyra did not have his abilities, for she would have been overwhelmed by the grief and pain and bitterness and anger that was flowing through him at the moment.

She pulled her hands from his, kissed his back, and gently released his hand from the sill where he had a white-knuckled grip. “Come to bed, Ga’briyel. Forget about the future. There is nothing we can do to change what is going to happen, but tomorrow we are getting married. Think about that, not a moon from now or two moons or three. Think about tomorrow and be happy.”

He slowly turned and faced her, but he did not move away from the window. “I am happy, Sophyra. But the rest is always there in the back of my mind. Every day I train so that I can kill when I have to. Every day as I do the patterns, I see enemies in front of my eyes as I pierce them with a sword or beat them to death. It is always there. Always.”

She tugged his hand, and he reluctantly followed her to the door. “Not tonight, Ga’briyel, and not tomorrow. Not until it has to be.”

He blew out the lamp as he passed it, and they went to their room. Once there, Ga’briyel stripped down to his smallclothes, and Sophyra changed into her nightdress. They climbed into bed, and Sophyra laid her head on his chest. She quickly fell asleep, but he lay awake, wondering when the next battle, the next evil, the next death would occur.