Clearwater Dawn by Scott Fitzgerald Gray

position within the alcove, resolved to stay here until relieved. You know nothing of what else happened tonight. You know nothing of what you saw in the tower.”
    As she spoke, Chriani heard the voice from the tower again, the tone of someone who was used to giving orders that would be followed without question. More expectation than command. He felt the anger wash through him again, felt it twist suddenly around the memory of the kiss, Lauresa close enough that he could catch the scent of her hair.
    “I know very well what I saw tonight,” he said evenly. He remembered that scent, from the fall that should have killed them, and from long before. One more thing he’d need to forget again. “I know what was done, princess, and whether you tell me why or no, I will not be directed to say otherwise by you.”
    He tried for Barien’s voice, only half-successfully. Barien was good at giving orders and at the same time expressing how much he hated giving them, so that those who heard those orders were always very certain they didn’t want to have to hear them twice.
    “I am obliged to protect you,” Chriani said, “not to lie for you.”
    And Lauresa sang again, a quick trill of notes that spilled into the silence of the room like warm rain. With one fist, she seized the inseam of his leggings, the same strength in her that he’d felt across his cheek not a moment before. The other hand seized the lapis pendant at her neck, pulled it to within two fingers of his face. Around her fingers where they clutched the stone, a pulse of crackling energy flared white.
    Chriani felt her other hand squeeze. As he forced himself to breathe, he smelled the sharply scented air that announced the advance of distant thunderstorms. He remembered the two tyros and the charred shadows where their hair had been.
    “I can change hands a great deal more quickly than you can stop me,” Lauresa said quietly. “When the time is right, I will answer the questions that deserve answers. Until then, you will do as I command.”
    She broke off from him, Chriani feeling the sudden spasm of pain that rose where she released her grip. He could only nod.
    “The door,” she said. She had her belt undone, the robe already off her shoulders as she slipped through the curtain, disappeared within the haze of white that ringed her bed.
    It would all make sense once she explained it, Chriani thought darkly. He’d barely had time to gingerly adjust the set of his leggings when he heard boots in the corridor beyond the alcove. At the door, he didn’t know whether he should draw his sword or not, deciding to just put it on correctly for a start.
    As he cinched the scabbard belt again, someone knocked loudly.
    “By your leave, princess,” called a voice through the door, deferential.
    “In the name of the prince, identify yourselves,” Chriani said, a little too loudly. Outside, he heard the near-silent whisper of swords and daggers drawn, movement along the wall where he knew that whoever was there had flanked the door.
    “In the name of the prince, identify yourself,” the voice echoed back, all deference gone.
    “Chriani, adjutant to Barien. Standing guard on the Princess Lauresa as ordered.” There was a formality to the orders and responses that passed between ranks in the garrison, and the way that words were spoken often carried as much formal weight as what was said. Not for the first time, Chriani wished he were better at it.
    “Open this door now…”
    “Identify yourself,” Chriani demanded with an uncertainty he hoped they couldn’t hear. Challenge them , the princess had said. He winced as the fading pain twisted once more through his loins.
    “Ashlund with three men, lieutenant to Konaugo, on orders from the prince high to ensure the location and safety of his children. Open this door or by Brandis’s blood, tyro, I’ll have your ears!”
    Chriani took a breath, drew his own sword as he pulled the bolt back and stepped to the far