Unhewn Throne 01 - The Emperor's Blades(62)

“For what?” Laith asked.

“To meet a soldier.”

They exchanged a look.

“Well,” Gent said, “I don’t understand much about Annick, but she ain’t a man.”

Valyn waved the objection aside. “We don’t know that it was a man who killed Amie—we know it was a soldier.”

A light breeze had picked up off the harbor, heavy with salt and low tide. Somewhere close by, a man and woman were screaming at each other, either in the street or in one of the sad hovels like the one where Amie and Rianne lived. It went on for a few moments before the woman let out a sharp cry of pain, then fell silent.

“A woman wouldn’t do that to another woman,” Lin said finally.

“Kettral aren’t like other people,” Valyn said. “And Kettral women certainly aren’t like other women.” He tried to lighten the tone of the final comment, but there wasn’t much levity to be had.

“But why?” Gent asked, his blunt features screwed tight in concentration. “Why would Annick want to kill her? To do … that?”

“Why does that bitch do anything?” Laith replied. “She’s crazy as a blind fox in a locked henhouse.”

Though Annick was only fifteen years old, the hardened Kettral trainers joked that she had a rock for a heart and steel for a stomach. She ate by herself in the mess hall, trained by herself on the archery range, and if the rumor was true, slept with her bow lying beside her in her bunk. The idea that she might visit Manker’s for a cup of ale and some idle chatter seemed about as likely as a shark strolling out of the sea on its fins to ask for a bowl of soup.

“Annick might be crazy,” Valyn said quietly, “but she’s deliberate. She could do something like this.”

“We still don’t have any idea why,” Lin pointed out. “Annick went to a tavern and so now she’s a murderer?”

“Just because she’s a woman, she can’t be?” Laith demanded.

Lin opened her mouth, but before she could retort, Valyn interposed a hand.

“‘Assume nothing,’” he said. The first chapter of the Tactics. “If we figure everyone might be a murderer, we’re less likely to be disappointed.”





15





“A true Kettral,” Adaman Fane bellowed, his voice loud enough to be heard on shore a thousand paces distant, “is not afraid of the water.”

A dozen cadets stood on the deck as the Night’s Edge rocked gently with the waves. Gwenna scowled through the introductory lecture, grimy and irritated, no doubt, at having been yanked away from her bombs. Yurl smiled that sly, superior smile of his, as though Fane and the rest of them were just servants waiting on his pleasure. Balendin leaned against one of the rails, eyes hooded. He twisted one of the iron rings on his fingers as his hawk flew overhead. It was an odd exercise, and Valyn knew he should be paying attention to the instructor, but he couldn’t help sneaking surreptitious glances at Annick.

The sniper was thin and gangly, tall for her age, but not so tall as Valyn. Her thin arms didn’t look like they had the strength to draw a longbow, but cords of muscle shifted beneath the skin whenever she moved, and Valyn had watched her put an arrow through a lemon at three hundred paces. None of the other cadets on the Islands could manage that. Neither could most of the real Kettral snipers, for that matter. Blackfeather Finn claimed she was the best hand with a bow he’d ever seen, at least at her age.

She didn’t look like a flint-hearted killer. At first glance, she actually looked more like a farmer’s daughter than a soldier: dusty brown hair flopped over her forehead and flicked out behind her ears, all cut short enough to avoid tangling in her bowstring. She had a sharp nose and sharp chin, both a little too small for her sun-browned face, but not so much that you’d notice if you weren’t paying attention. She looked normal, harmless. That is, until you caught a glimpse of her eyes. As Valyn studied her, she glanced over suddenly, as if she’d felt his gaze. Those blue eyes were cold as fish scale.

“A true Kettral,” Fane continued, “embraces the water. It is his home, just as the air is his home. What we will discover today is whether you are at home in the water. Or whether you panic when the waves press down.” He looked over the assembled group. “Who wants to embarrass himself first? You’re all going to suffer. It’s only a question of when.”