Tarrin flushed. "You don't have any scars," he pointed out.

"I used to," she replied. "I was a warrior before I answered the call of my Mistress and took up the faith. She allowed me to remove my scars, except for this one," she said, rubbing her jaw with a thumb and a finger.

"You're a priestess?" he asked in surprise.

"I'd better be, or fifteen years of devotion was for nothing," she replied.

"The priests of Karas aren't allowed to carry swords."

"Then Karas is a fool," she said with a grunt. "My goddess demands that her order be able to fight. A sword is a suitably practical weapon."

"The priests of Karas learn to fight, but with maces," he told her. "Karas doesn't permit his order to shed the blood of enemies, because they're taught to try to avoid fighting whenever possible."

"Foolishness," she snorted. "They probably rely on their god and the spells he grants them."

"I guess. I just remember the stories Faalken's told of them. He's a Knight."

"My goddess demands her priestesses be self-sufficient," she said. "We have to be able to fight for ourselves. We also have to be able to farm, and to sew, and work leather and build with wood, because our duties to our people often force us to take up tools or a plow. She grants us magic, but we don't use it unless we can't do something any other way. To depend on her magic would make us soft, like those priests of Karas."

Tarrin couldn't see anything wrong with that philosphy. "Where did you meet Triana?"

"In Dayise," she replied. "I came up again to track down my husband, and I met her while waiting for a ship to Suld."

"Husband? You're married?"

"If you want to call it that," she snorted. "He ran away on our wedding night. If he wasn't in that damned Tower, I'd-"

"Koran Dar!" Tarrin exclaimed in surprised.

"Koran Tal," she said adamantly. "And if he's using his birth name, he's got a lot to answer for," she snarled. "How did you know him?"

"There's only one Amazon in all of the Tower," he told her.

"Figures," she sighed. "He's my first husband. He's from a small clan, given to me to marry to cement an alliance between my clan and his. He went through with the wedding, but he vanished not long afterward. He's a weak-willed little coward. Sometimes I wonder why I bother coming up here every few years to try to steal him back."

"He's no weakling," Tarrin said in defense of the Divine Seat. "Maybe he just doesn't like you."

"Liking me has nothing to do with fulfilling his obligations," she snapped. "He embarassed me and my family when he took off. He'd only have to see me a few days a tenspan, anyway. If he can't tolerate me that long, then it's his problem."

Tarrin mulled over her words. " First husband?" he asked curiously. "How many times have you been married?"

"I have three husbands and four concubines," she said calmly, giving him a cool look. "Amazon society doesn't restrict a woman to just one husband. She can have as many as she can arrange, and all the concubines she can buy."

That startled him. He'd heard of Arakite men who had more than one wife, but it was the first time he'd ever heard of a society where a woman could have more than one husband. Then again, in Amazar, her home, all men were property. Male children were owned by their mothers, and were sold to other women when they matured. The women controlled the government, served in the armies and navies, and it seemed that they staffed the churches. It was a reversal from strict sexist societies like Draconia, where women were little more than property. In Draconia, women were there to make babies and keep the house clean. It looked that those were the duties of an Amazon man.

"What's the difference between a husband and a concubine?" he asked.

"Husbands are noble-born males. Concubines are commoners. All three of my husbands are political marriages. I keep my concubines because I like them." She glanced towards the door. Tarrin's ears picked up when he heard the sounds of Faalken's armor, and Dolanna's voice. "We'll have plenty of time for me to educate you about how a society should be, boy," she said. "It sounds like your Knight just got here, from all the clanking."

"You have good ears."

"If you don't pay attention, it makes it easy for someone to stick a dagger in your back," she said in her husky voice.

She was a warrior, all right. Or had once been one.

Dolanna, Faalken, and Dar all three took their turns staring at the Amazon when they entered the dining room. Allia came in behind them, but Camara Tal seemed oblivious to Dolanna's searching look, Faalken's lingering appreciation of her beauty, or Dar's fearful gawk at her. "Uh, Dolanna, this is Camara Tal," Tarrin introduced.

"My goddess sent me here," Camara Tal announced in her husky voice. "I'm here to protect him, and help you as I can," she concluded, pointing at Tarrin.

"Forgive my suspicion, but how are we to know this to be true?" Dolanna asked.

"She's for real, Dolanna," Tarrin told her. "The Goddess told me to accept her, and she knows enough that even if I wasn't warned, I'd still have to accept her."

"Another visitation?" the Sorceress asked, and Tarrin nodded. "Very well then, I guess we have no choice. I will not go against the will of my Goddess."

"Spoken like a true believer," Camara Tal said approvingly. "Boy, if you don't stop staring at me, I'm going to give you a reason to look the other way," Camara Tal warned Dar, who was still gawking at her.

"Dar's not used to seeing a human woman in such interesting clothes," Faalken said with a sly grin.

"I see men are a universal constant," she said gratingly. "Do you want to play at trying to catch a glimpse, or should we get it overwith now and lift my skirt?" she asked, reaching down and grabbing the hem of her skirt meaningfully.

"Ah, no," Faalken said lightly. "I prefer it when it's a challenge. Free looks are cheap looks."

If she took offense, she didn't show it. She just let go of her skirt and crossed her arms beneath her breasts again. "If I minded men looking, I wouldn't wear these clothes, but I hate it when people stare at me," she warned. "Just get over it."

"Yes ma'am," Faalken said impudently.

"Faalken," Dolanna said calmly. "I think we will welcome your aid, Amazon," she told the woman. "Our number has been reduced, and another sword will be helpful."

"That's why I'm here," she said easily. "When do we leave?"

"With Triana's blessing, we will be leaving tomorrow afternoon," she replied. "A ship carrying a carnival will be taking us to Dala Yar Arak. They are our cover to allow Tarrin and Allia to enter the city without being enslaved."

"Clever," she said approvingly. "But let's not leave anything out. Start at the beginning. I like to know what's going on."

"Very well," Dolanna said. "I think you may want to sit down. This will take a while."

Camara Tal was going to be a problem, Tarrin decided the next day.

His things were packed, and he stood at the gangplank of the Dancer. The ship was still garish and ugly, a floating eyesore, but in a strange way he was glad to see it. For a solid month, they had been in Shoran's Fork, a month lost to the other players of the Questing Game, waiting for Tarrin to recover. The pain was gone now, though it did twinge some when he moved too fast, and Triana had told him that morning that he was officially an adult. She had no more hold over him, no more than the already vice-like control she could exert when she really wanted to. He was free to go.

Free. It seemed a strange word, because he didn't feel free at all. He was still bound to his mission, and Camara Tal had effectively made him feel like a prisoner again. She wouldn't allow him to go out into the street without her, and she stayed close enough to him to step in in case of attack. He already felt smothered by her presence. He really had to find a way to make her give him some space, but without offending her or making her think that she wasn't doing her duty. If there was one thing about her, it was that duty was everything to her. She took her accepted duties as seriously as life and death, and he realized already that all he could hope for was to loosen her deathgrip on him a little rather than making her give up on it.