Page 73 of Shadows of Winter

“I do love being obedient to men.”

His eyes closed to slits, and he gripped her arm tightly. It wasn’t quite painful, but it made her clench her jaw and want to jerk away.

“I suggest that, for your own safety, you are obedient to that man. However much it may cost your pride, do not argue with him or try to make him lose his temper.”

The various long looks that Targon and Vlerion had shared the night of her questioning came to mind. That awareness that they shared some secret. About that beast in the catacombs, she wagered.

“He’s actually much better at keeping his temper than most men, but you’ve a knack for irritating him.” The twist to Targon’s lips as he stared into her eyes made her believe he thought she irritated most people.

Kaylina resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. Funny how many rangers made her want to do that. “It’s my southern charm.”

“He says you call him a pirate.”

“Charmingly.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Do women actually pass the tests to become a ranger? I haven’t seen any here.” Kaylina waved around the compound.

“There are a few. The tests rely as much on agility, endurance, marksmanship, and riding ability as raw strength. They’re passable by those who train hard and have some gods-given aptitude.” Targon glanced at the sling on her belt. “I believe the need to sleep on the ground in mountains filled with man-eating beasts and man-slaying Kar’ruk are a deterrent to many of the fairer sex. At least among the aristocracy, from which the rangers have traditionally drawn, there are few women who’ve been eager to sign up.”

Kaylina had thought all of the rangers were nobles, but hadn’t Vlerion said Jankarr had a common heritage?

Targon looked past her shoulder toward the stable.

No fewer than five taybarri were gazing at them. Or… at her?

She rubbed her face, not wanting that many witnesses to whatever this training involved.

“You’ll be paid,” Targon said.

“Huh?”

“The stipend during training is small, but if you pass the tests to become a ranger, the pay is commensurate with the duties and dangers of the job.” He nodded to her, as if he were doing her a favor.

She wanted to earn her stipend from mead sales, but she made herself say, “Okay,” and add, “my lord,” when his eyebrows twitched.

After that, she hurried toward Vlerion before anyone else could waylay her.

“My taybarri has a hangover this morning,” he stated, his expression sour.

She’d been on the verge of offering him a polite, Good morning, my lord, but his words got her hackles up.

“Your taybarri shouldn’t have imbibed so much mead.”

In truth, Kaylina was surprised that the small amount had affected such a large beast. Had Crenoch gotten into a keg of alcohol, he might truly have been poisoned.

“He’s young and doesn’t know what’s good for him yet.” Vlerion leveled a flat glare not at her but toward the stable.

Crenoch—she was fairly certain that was he—swished his tail and turned his back.

“Do I get to ride him today?” That sounded like a far more appealing perk than Targon’s stipend.

“No.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No.”

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