Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Sova and Megan exchanged a remembering look, which Shkai'ra didn't miss. For a moment the
Kommanza's teeth clenched, words failing her. "Listen! Until I was exiled, I thought the way of Stonefort
was the way of the world. The Warmasters said that a child taught to hate all that lived was the better
killer… warrior, most peoples say. When I saw the ways of some other peoples, where parent and child
could… feel for each other, it was as if they walked with their heads held under their arms, it was so
strange. For a time, I doubted everything I'd been taught, down to how to latch my boots, because so
much seemed to be lies." A softening. "Then I met Megan… She's always telling me I'm sensitive as a
stone shithouse, and occasionally it's true, I know."
"Occasionally?" Sova said, blinking. That went past Shkai'ra, but Megan smirked, then shook her head
scoldingly.
The Kommanza raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "How good a parent I can be, I don't
know. I know whatnot to do, mostly: the way I was raised was shit." Sova's thin brows rose in surprise.
"Administered by people who were shits, and all it taught me was to turn outmore shits, if you take my
meaning. I'm still learning else."
"I don't want to be a shit," said Sova. "Khyd-hird, you molded me no less than my parents. They would
have said it was aman's mold. I wanted to marry a nice Thanish man, and live in a nice house in
Branvniki. I can't now, never will. You say that's only because I was raised to want nothing else; but
maybe, underneath that, I reallydid want it. I'll never know now. I never would have known had things
been left as they were, either; I wouldn't have known either way."
Shkai'ra paced. "You've got choices, girl. More than most: peasants grow to be peasants, because their
lord'll lop their heads if they try otherwise, or else they get dragged off to the levy and filled full of arrows.
Crafters count themselves lucky to get apprenticeship… You have half a dozen callings you could take.
You're getting a good general lessoning—I can hardly write more than my name, you know—"
"Emmas Penaras,solas ," Megan cut in. Shkai'ra's words were lost in laughter, even Sova's.
The Kommanza went on, "So if you want to shake the dust of the House of the Sleeping Dragon off
your feet, you can, easily enough."
"I didn't think you cared what I wanted," said the girl. "You certainly didn't, at first."
"Well—true. But that changed. Don't you remember the words: "Sova, do you consent to be the child of
these,as of their blood ? Wewanted you to be our daughter, by then; wefelt like you were our
daughter. You'd fought at our side, shed blood with us; we knew you and… hmmm. A lot of reasons.
Megan saw something of herself in you, I think, and wanted to make the story come out better this time."
Sova looked; the Zak nodded, confirming. "Shyll has a loving heart, and you appealed to it. Rilla
likewise, and… well, you'll have to ask them for the details."
"Me… had I a daughter born of my blood, I couldn't ask for better. You're as brave as any youngser
I've met, you've learned fast, you're smart, and you've got a loyal heart, when push comes to shove." She
grinned. "Don't get a swelled head, girl, but I'm actually quite proud of you. Besides, having you around
makes life… more alive,ia ? Of course, you're sullen and flighty and give me grief, at times, but I said you
were a daughter to be proud of, not a god. Gods know,I'm no vessel of sweetness and light…."
"It was for honor, too. Once we had you, we had to dosomething for you, and would have—fosterage,
an apprenticeship, something. Less would be acting like a shit to someone who'd done me no wrong;