After they had left the lamed Preachán far behind, Paedrin suddenly whirled on them, his face flushed with anger. His voice was low and controlled, but his eyes were blazing. “What was that, back there?” he said sharply, pointing toward the road. “You started the forest burning! I thought you were a Druidecht, a protector of the woods.”
Annon stared at him in surprise, and then he understood. To a man raised in a city, fire was a considerable threat and needed safeguards to control it. “Paedrin, you must learn to trust me. I am a Druidecht. I would never do anything to harm a forest.”
The other opened his mouth in amazement. “You just set fire to it!”
“Fire is how a forest is reborn. There are certain trees that will only release their seeds during a firestorm. Oaks, for example, need fires to properly grow and to prevent being crowded out by weaker trees. This forest cannot even be properly called one. Green wood does not burn very well, Paedrin.”
“There was no need to butcher those men, though.”
Annon met his stare. “They are the butchers, Paedrin. They chose their kill unwisely this time.”
The Bhikhu squeezed his eyes shut, as if choking off a retort and struggling to master himself. He opened his eyes slowly. “I was sent here to protect you both. Taking life should always be the final resort. The last option. I have been trained all of my life to fight. To maim. To hurt. To choke. To squeeze a man to within an inch of his life. But not to kill him. Not unless there is no other choice. That was not the case today. I was going to intervene. I tried to whisper it to you, but you would not hear it.”
“I am sorry,” Annon said.
The Bhikhu stopped, dazed.
“I should have warned you,” Annon continued, mastering his temper. He understood the Bhikhu’s feelings, while not agreeing with them himself. The sentiments were admirable. “I respect your beliefs. I respect the foundation of your order. But those men have no laws. They would have killed us without hesitation. I did not feel it right to ask you to do the same to them.”
“The next time…” Paedrin said, his voice rising.
“Spare us a sermon,” Hettie said, her voice full of disdain.
He rounded on her. “The next time we face trouble like that…”
“I will use my knife, or an arrow, or my hands if that will suffice,” she answered hotly. “We are not at the temple anymore. This is the wide world. No one cares how you feel about it.”
Annon watched Paedrin swallow, his eyes blazing with fury. “I was orphaned in Kenatos. I have seen every sort of man seek shelter in the temple. The wildest drunk to the sneakiest purse snatcher. I am not a child, and this is not my first experience with the wide world. Pain is a teacher. Pain is a harsh teacher. I have broken my fingers. I have broken my leg twice. My arm has been twisted out of its joint three times.” He took a step closer to her, his face barely a breath from hers. “I am not afraid of hurting or bleeding or even dying. But when we come across trouble in the future, we will spare life. I insist on it. Or I will school you both as I have been schooled.”
Hettie’s eyes glittered like daggers. “You know nothing of pain,” she said softly.
Annon put his hand on Paedrin’s shoulder. “Very well, Paedrin. That is only fair. We startled you today. I did not wish to do that. In the future, you will get the first chance to make peace or finish things the Bhikhu way. If it works, well and good. If not, at least you know what we can do.”
There was a hard line across Paedrin’s mouth as he stared at Hettie. He glanced briefly at Annon, nodded once, and then stepped away from her, still scowling. “How is it that you both can summon fire from your hands? Is it magic your uncle gave you? I have seen rings and bracelets that contain special powers, but never something like what I saw you both do.”
Annon glanced at Hettie and then looked back at him. “I have asked for your trust, and so I will trust you in return. It is something we were born with,” he replied. “We may look like Aeduan, but there is something in our blood that gives us this power. It is called the fireblood. I have never used it like that before, and I normally would not have chosen to, but I have no Druidecht power in a place like this. In some kingdoms our race is persecuted. I will only use it as a final resort.”
Paedrin looked at Hettie narrowly and then back at Annon. “It seems your sister went a little too far with it today. You had to strike her to get her to stop. I volunteer next time.” He started back on the road at a brisk walk, never looking back at them.
Annon glanced at Hettie, trying to understand her. She stared at Paedrin with a look of defiance, her mouth twisted unpleasantly downward. Then she whispered, “Thank you, Annon. I nearly lost myself in the flames. The men hiding in the rubbish were not Preachán. They were Romani.”
As she said the final word, her eyes burned with hatred.
“How many times have you used it?” Annon asked her, pulling her after him. “I was worried about you. The look in your eyes frightened me.”