Storm Warning by Mercedes Lackey

Healer-Priests; only men could serve with soldiers. The old laws said that women who took on the “habit and guise” of men were demons, to be controlled or destroyed—whichever came soonest. Female mercenaries captured by the Karsite Army had fared rather badly, historically, something that Ulrich had never tried to conceal from his pupil.
    For that matter, in Karse, the law still forbade women to hold property on their own; all property, whether it be land or goods, must be owned by a male. By Karsite standards, this Commander was doubly shocking.
    On the other hand, Her Holiness had been making it clear that the days of laws forbidding women to do anything were numbered. Vkandis had made His will clear on the subject.
    I guess that eventually we’ll even have women fighters in our Army, given the way that things are going. Somehow, he did not find that as horrifying as he should have. Maybe he was just tired.
    Maybe being around Her Holiness Solaris had taught him he’d better never underestimate the competence of a woman.
    “If the lady in question is not offended by us, I fail to see why we should take offense at her offer of hospitality,” Ulrich said, finally. “I would be very pleased to meet our hostess. I have never met a female warrior face-to-face before. I believe the experience will be enlightening.”
    He rose carefully and smoothed out the front of his riding robe with both hands. Karal scrambled to his feet, realizing belatedly that Ulrich had just accepted the unknown woman’s invitation.
    “I did tell her precisely who and what you are,” Rubrik replied, with a twitch of his lips. “Since she is the local Commander, I had to inform her anyway. She said something similar about you, sir.”
    “No doubt,” Ulrich replied dryly, but followed their guide out the door, through the taproom (which was still just as noisy and crowded as it had been when they entered), and back into the night, with Karal trailing along behind.
    Evidently someone had already seen to their mounts, either stabling them at the inn or bringing them on ahead, and Rubrik had (correctly) judged that, weary as they were, neither Ulrich nor his secretary were ready to climb back into a saddle again. Instead, they left the courtyard of the inn, turned into the street, and walked the short distance along a row of shops and homes to the large house at the end. The narrow two-storied buildings seemed abnormally tall and thin to Karal; each had a workshop or store on the ground floor, and living quarters above. The house at the end of the street differed in all ways from those lining it; this building had no commercial aspect to it, and it was as broad as three of the others.
    It wasn’t as big as the homes of several high-born nobles that Karal had seen, nor even as large as the inn, but it was quite sizable compared to its modest neighbors. The main door was right on the cobblestone street, with a single slab of stone as a step beneath it. Torches had been lit and placed in holders outside the white-painted door to light their way, and a servant opened the door before Rubrik could knock on it.
    The servant ushered them into a wood-paneled hallway, lit by candlelamps. It was less of an entryway, and more of a waiting-room. They were not left to wait for the lady on the benches however; as soon as the servant shut the door, he directed them to follow him down the wide, white-painted hall to a room at the end.
    Karal expected a lady’s solar, or a reception room of some kind, but what the servant revealed when he opened the door was an office; businesslike, with no “feminine” fripperies about it. Their hostess was hard at work behind a plain wooden desk covered with papers; she nodded at the servant, who saluted and left. Rubrik gestured to them to go in, following and closing the door behind them.
    The lady set her papers aside, and looked them both over with a frank and measuring gaze. Karal flushed a little under such an open