Twilight's Dawn

family, I wouldn’t have.”
    She offered no other comment, but his answer must have satisfied some unspoken concern, because she finally started doing her own work while he finished the piece of pie.
    When he and Merry reached their usual easy silence, Lucivar figured it was time to leave if he wanted to avoid running into Surreal. He wasn’t ready to deal with her yet.
    As he eased off the stool, he said, “Thanks for the pie and coffee.”
    “If Marian is still annoyed with you come midday, I’ll have a spicy stew cooking,” she said. “And if you can avoid riling up the women you know for a few hours, I can leave out the big dose of pity.”
    Lucivar gave her a sharp grin. “Darling, whatever you’re dishing out is too tart to be pity.”
    She didn’t laugh, but she couldn’t keep a straight face either. “Go away.”
    “I’m going. Even if Marian works off her mad, save me a bowl of that stew.”
    As he reached the door, a young Eyrien Warlord from the northern camps burst into The Tavern, followed by the Eyriens who had been at the communal eyrie.
    “The landen villages at the north end of the valley are under attack!” the Warlord said.
    “Who’s attacking?” Lucivar demanded.
    “Don’t know. I was heading back to camp when I was ordered to come here and find you. Not just Jhinka. Whoever is fighting the Eyriens is also Blood. Our men have pushed the fight away from the villages, but we need help. We need it now.”
    “Did you contact the Master of the Guard in Agio?” Lucivar asked.
    A moment’s hesitation. “I didn’t, no. I was told to fetch you. Someone else must have gone for Lord Randahl.”
    Most of the Eyriens in the northern camps wore Jewels with sufficient power to send a psychic call for help to the Blood in Agio. Hell’s fire, there were plenty of them who could reach him here. If they needed help so badly against this unknown enemy, why waste time having a Rose-Jeweled Warlord ride the Winds to Riada to fetch him?
    There was one reason he could think of.
    Lucivar eyed the Eyriens Falonar had left behind this morning. “You coming with me?”
    “We are,” one of them answered.
    “Then head out. I’ll meet you there.” He turned and walked toward the short hallway in the back of the building that held the water closets available to customers.
    “We’ll wait for you,” one of the Warlords said.
    Lucivar stopped. Turned. “I’m not driving a Coach to a killing field, and I’m not shielding all of you on the Red Winds and then dropping down onto a killing field. So you catch the Winds and go. I’ll still arrive close behind you. But first I’m going to take a piss.”
    “The Red Winds?” one of the men asked. “Not the Ebon-gray?”
    Lucivar shifted his weight—and deliberately winced. “Not today.”
    Two flashes of emotion filled the room, equal in intensity, at his inability to hide how much an imprudent move hurt his ribs—alarm from Merry and relieved anticipation from the Eyriens who watched him.
    “Go on,” he said.
    Waiting until the Eyriens left The Tavern, he raised a hand and used Craft to put a Red lock on the front door. Then he went into one of the water closets. He’d opened his fly when Merry burst into the small room.
    “Hell’s fire, woman,” he growled.
    “Something is wrong,” she said. “This all sounds wrong.”
    Of course it did. It was all wrong. “Get out of here.”
    “Lucivar.”
    “Merry, he’s young and excitable. If things in the north were as bad as he said, he would have been there fighting with the other Eyriens, and I would have been summoned on a psychic thread by Lady Erika’s Master of the Guard. So stop fussing. I’ll take care of this.” He gently pushed her out of the room and closed the door in her face.
    He had no doubt in his mind that he could—and would—take care of this. He just hoped he could convince Merry of that sufficiently to delay her sounding the alarm. He didn’t want anyone standing with him. Not today. Today he wanted to know with absolute certainty the faces of his enemies.
    That much decided, he quickly prepared for the coming fight.
    First he created the Ebon-gray shields he usually put around his anklebones to give them extra support. Next, he shaped an Ebon-gray shield over his ribs. Then he called in the Ring of Honor that Jaenelle had given every male in her First Circle. She no longer wore Ebony Jewels, but the Ebony power she had put into those Rings to fuel the shields