Torchholder, but when I ask him about the ceremony he puts me off with theological caveats. And the Stepsons are taking the Third Commando with them on some mysterious campaign-all my old comrades! I could go with them-I’d rather go with them, but I have to know what I should do!”
Illyra shrugged. “Do what you please.”
Considering that Molin Torchholder had taken Illyra’s other child away, Gilla thought the S’danzo’s reaction to this request from his woman mild.
Kama bent suddenly and gripped Illyra’s shoulders. “What does that have to do with it? I’ve sworn oaths-they still bind me even if the gods aren’t listening anymore, and I’ve lost too much blood in this town to just walk away without knowing why. Do you think I’ve stopped being a warrior because I’m wearing these?” She twitched angrily at the rich folds of her skirts. “I will have answers, woman, if I have to wring them out of you!”
Illyra shook her head. “Can you wring blood from a stone? Do whatever you like to me-I have no answers anymore.”
“There may be no blood left in your veins,” Kama said dangerously, “but what about your husband’s? I’ve learned a lot in this cesspool you call home-will you sing the same song when you see me applying some of that knowledge to Dubro?”
“No…” said Illyra faintly. “He has nothing to do with this. You can’t make him suffer for me…”
“Were you somehow under the impression that life is fair?” Kama straightened and stood looking down at her. “I will do whatever I have to do.”
Gilla looked from her to Myrtis, who was watching with a faint half-smile. Had the madam of the Aphrodisia House put Kama up to this in an attempt to shake