The Staff and the Blade: Irin Chronicles Book Four by Elizabeth Hunter

the Mongols?”
    “Not well.”
    “There’s a lesson to be learned there.”
    Henry patted her back and made for the door. “This is entertaining, but we really need to go stop Einar from riding to the village without us. That man is not known for his tact or discretion.”
    Damien swooped down and stole one more kiss before she could respond.
    “That was a stealth attack,” he whispered, biting her earlobe. “In case you were wondering.”
    ※

    “It’s not been so blatant as what happened to Kirsten,” Ingrid said later that night in the longhouse after the evening meal. “But it’s been there.”
    “Talk of witchcraft?”
    Ingrid nodded. “I hear it in Kirkwall. At the market. The humans here… they’re a traditional sort. They’ve not felt the conflict between their human faith and our magic in the past. Wisewomen were always here. The men, they don’t notice as much.”
    “Too dangerous?” Sari had come in from the harvest to hear that Henry, Einar, and Damien had gone to the neighboring village where Kirsten had been attacked. They had not yet returned, and Sari was trying to distract herself from worrying.
    Damien didn’t need her worry. He was a warrior.
    “Weakness invites violence,” Ingrid said. “These villagers see us the same as their human women and they dismiss us. Don’t understand why we speak up with the men or sit on the village council here. We’re strange to their eyes. Add our magic to that as well, and…”
    Sari nodded. She wasn’t ignorant of the growing unease between humans and the Irin people. There was a reason she’d been raised in a small village in the country. Even in larger cities, Irin families kept to themselves. It wouldn’t do to have the men questioned when they went out hunting Grigori. It wouldn’t be wise to have the healers and scholars scrutinized.
    “Our mandate has always been to help humanity,” Sari said quietly. “Protect them.”
    Ingrid shrugged. “At the risk of our own safety? You know what has happened in the Catholic countries. The fear overwhelms reason.”
    “They speak of locking us up,” Sari said. “I had a letter from Tala that said there is talk in Salamanca of forcing singers, mated or not, into communities away from humans. Locking them out of scribe houses and libraries.”
    Ingrid scoffed. “Madness. The elder singers would never permit it. The scribe houses are mostly staffed by Irin warriors, but who do they turn to for counsel and healing? Who would take the place of our singers who support them? Not to mention how many mated Irin fight together. Mated warriors are far stronger when they work in tandem. That has been our way since ancient times.”
    Sari didn’t share Ingrid’s confidence. “I fear the twisted thinking of humans influences our people. Humans see their woman as less.”
    “Then they are foolish to deny half their race.” Ingrid patted her hand. “Besides, there simply aren’t enough of us to survive without singers and scribes working together. We’d be in a sad place indeed if all the singers were sequestered in villages. Heaven would weep, Sari, to see their daughters hidden away.”
    ※

    Hours later she rested in the library. She didn’t want to return home, and she was worried about Damien and Henry. The sun was long set and the crisp fall wind had turned biting. She built a fire and put out a bottle of whisky for when the men returned.
    She was dozing in front of the warm hearth when she heard them stomping and speaking in low voices.
    “Sari?” Henry called. “You didn’t have to wait for us, sister, but thank you so much for doing so.”
    Sari blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Henry, where’s—”
    “I’m here.” His voice came from the door. He took off his cloak and hung it on the hook by the door. “What are you doing here, Sari? It’s so late.”
    He sounded exhausted. They both did.
    “I didn’t want you to come home to a cold house,” she said, rising and clearing her