They find lovers where they will and when they will.
What did Barrow mean when he invoked the bonds of the Guard?
She had to know if Alistair had handed her lies in the hopes that he’d sway her.
“Barrow—” The thickness in her throat made her voice crack. Barrow looked at her, his brows raised in surprise.
“The Guard . . .” She dropped her gaze to the forest floor, not wanting to meet Barrow’s eyes when she put this question to him. “Are they truly chaste?”
For the longest moments Ember thought she’d ever experienced, the only answer that came was the babble of the brook as it made its way along the hillside. Then Barrow began to laugh.
FOURTEEN
EMBER JUMPED DOWN from the log and, squaring off with Barrow, folded her arms across her chest. He was still laughing as she glared at him.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Barrow shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Ember.” He drew a shaking breath and managed to quell his mirth. “It’s just that when you started to speak, I thought you were about to confess something horrible to me. Your face had no color whatsoever.”
“You think my question was funny?” Ember snapped. “Excuse me for taking the vows I spoke with some level of solemnity.”
A smile hopped on and off Barrow’s mouth, but he managed to keep from laughing again. “Of course, you’re right. You surprised me, that’s all.”
Despite her flare of anger, Ember remained desperate for an answer. “Well?”
“Well what?” Barrow didn’t bother to fight off his smile this time.
Ember stamped her foot and then cursed herself for stamping her foot because it made Barrow chuckle.
“You know what!” she blurted.
His smile faded. “Why are you asking this?”
“I heard rumors,” she said lamely. “I only want to know if they are true.”
“You should be wary of rumors. Particularly those regarding who’s been visiting whose bed.” His eyes grew distant and lost the spark of laughter. “But the answer to your question is: sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Beneath her arms, Ember felt her heartbeat speeding up though she couldn’t pinpoint the source of her nerves.
Barrow shrugged. “It’s a matter of choice. The only true restriction on one’s personal relationships is that they may not interfere with our service to the Guard. And love is an interfering thing by its nature, so some of us choose to avoid its entanglements altogether.”
“Is it really that simple?” Ember asked, frowning.
“We study the ways of this world’s finest warriors so that we may enhance our own skills. Our models are those we find in history, not the dictates of the Church,” Barrow said.
“History?”
“Think of the champions of Sparta,” he answered.
Ember nodded. “Few would compare.”
“We know that they prized love for one another—physical as well as the loyalty of friendship—and it bore no ill consequences for them in battle,” Barrow said.
“But what of the vow?” Ember grew more confused by the minute. Had her outrage at Alistair been unreasonable? If it was, why did her stomach still churn when she thought of his words and his attempt to persuade her into his bed?
Barrow stood up, pacing to the edge of the stream. “The vow has its place. And most of the Guard adhere to it, for safety’s sake.”
“Safety’s sake?” Ember followed his path, gazing into the rippling water.
“We may fight only by leave of the Church and the nobles,” he said. “The restraints we put on our own lives to serve the cause render us less threatening to them. By acting the part of monks, we offer them the semblance of servitude.”
“So it’s all an act?” Ember said bitterly. “The vow means nothing?”
Barrow turned suddenly, looking into her eyes. “Does it mean nothing to you?”
She gazed at him and slowly shook her head. What she’d given up had in turn granted her freedom. She thought of Caber’s pounding hooves and the wind tugging at her hair.
“It means everything,” she said.
“As it does to many of us, but the vow is about service to the order, not the choices of the individual,” he said. “I only suggest that you not judge those who have fallen under love’s spell despite their vows. Pride is an empty cup.”
Ember blushed. Love’s spell—was that what had drawn Alistair to her? Perhaps she’d been too harsh. Her shock had overwhelmed any kindness merited by their long friendship.
Barrow was watching her with narrowed eyes. “Again I ask, Ember, is there something that troubles you beyond the rumors—which are indeed more than rumors—about some of the Guard?”
She flinched, not wanting to incur Barrow’s ill will toward Alistair, especially now that she was doubting her initial reaction to his advances.
She looked at Barrow. “What about you?”
“What about me?” He pulled a smooth stone from the streambed.
“Do you have a lover?” Ember paused, thinking of his comment about the Spartans, and suddenly gasped. “Is it Kael?”
Barrow dropped the stone. It plunked into the water and rapidly sank. “Is that what you think?”
Ember worried she’d offended him, but when he faced her, one corner of his mouth was crinkled in amusement.
“I’m not Kael’s lover, though I love him like a brother,” Barrow said. “As much as I admire the Spartans, I prefer the company of women in my bed.”
At that moment Ember wanted nothing more than to kick Barrow in the shin and run away. She couldn’t fathom why she’d have such a childish reaction to the calm conversation that she’d instigated. She also couldn’t bear the sudden hot stinging in her eyes. She turned away, bending down to place her palms against the stream’s surface so he couldn’t see her face.
Barrow continued, “I mean only if such were the case. I have no lover.”
Ember caught her breath, but she didn’t want to look at him. She still didn’t understand why her emotions veered wildly from one moment to the next.
“Why not?” she asked.
“One of the reasons that Kael and some others take lovers among the Guard is that it can be kept secret. With women it’s a much greater risk,” Barrow said.