“I might be interested in joining his force,” I said boldly, feeling that it was now or never—the arrival of these men right here, at the moment when I most wanted to make use of my gifts, told me that the goddess Kiriah herself intended for me to walk a different path from that I’d been set upon.
Besides, I told the anxious voice in my head, it wasn’t as if I was leaving the priesthood for good. I was simply taking a little hiatus to do good works out in the world.
To my disgust, all three men burst into loud, obnoxious laughter. They laughed so hard, the headman actually had to wipe back moisture from his eyes. At last, when he could speak, he said, “You? A priest? Lord Deo has need for fighters, not those who would spend their day in prayer. Lower your weapon, holy woman, else I will have my men teach you what a grave crime it is to raise arms against us.”
The whisper of steel sliding against steel sounded softly behind me, causing me to spin around. I let fly one arrow and had the second sent on its way before the first landed.
“Kiriah’s nipples!” the first man cried when the arrow pierced his mail armor and pinned it to the wooden paneling behind him. The arrowhead caught only the mail and the cloth of the tunic beneath, missing the man’s flesh, just as the second arrow did. By the time the headman finished staring at his two compatriots’ sword arms pinned to the wall, I had another arrow aimed at his chest.
“It is also a grave crime to pull a weapon in the Temple of Kiriah Sunbringer,” I said with a look that by rights should have scared the man half to death.
To my surprise (and no little amount of annoyance), he tossed back his head and laughed a second time. “It seems there is more to you than is first seen,” he acknowledged at last, making me a little bow.
“You would do well to remember that,” I said, lowering the arrow. “Now tell me about the force Deo is gathering.”
I thought for a moment the headman would ignore my request, but a glance at his men struggling to remove the arrows from where they were embedded in the wall evidently caused him to think again. “You are persistent, if nothing else. Lord Deo seeks an elite group of fighters and those skilled in magic to travel to Genora to free his mother and her people. It is nothing that even a sharp-eyed priest like you could manage, however, so you may stop trying to convince me to take you to him. You do not have the skills he seeks.”
“You have no idea what skills I wield,” I said softly, my eyes on Feliza, who had been slowly edging away until she was at the metal gate that closed off the main part of the temple from the entrance, where the laypeople prayed. I waited until Feliza quietly closed and locked the metal gate, and scurried off no doubt to tell Sandor of the intruders. At the sight of her pale blue robe fluttering around a corner, I asked, “Where is Deo gathering this elite force that I am not important enough to join?”
“Lord Deo won’t have you,” the man said, shaking his head at me. “Not a priest. You have nothing to offer him.”
I thought about the time, many years before, when Deo and I sat in the loft of the stable and exchanged what I knew now to be very inexperienced kisses. “Where is the force gathering?” I repeated.
The headman hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “In Deacon’s Cross. But do not expect to see Lord Deo, and do not harbor the hope that your bow-arm will be needed. He sees no one these days but his body servant, and only the best fighters and magic wielders will be chosen to round out this elite group. We have archers aplenty.”
“He’ll see me,” I said with a little smile at my memories of our time in that loft.
“Don’t count on it, little priest,” the man said, then turned to see where Feliza had escaped. “Damn me, she’s gone. Now we’ll have to search—”
“There’s no need to make me shoot you where you stand for attempting to breach the temple,” I said calmly, and gestured toward the locked wrought iron gate. “I’ll bring the boon you seek.”
He hesitated, giving me a visual once-over that I felt saw all too clearly my ungainly self, my untamed hair, and the dirt that stained the bottom of my robe. “You won’t be rewarded with a meeting with Lord Deo, if that is what you are thinking. As I said, he sees no one.”
“He’s going to have to be seen sooner or later if he wishes to lead a force all the way to Genora,” I pointed out. “But wrangling a visit to his bed is not my purpose, if that is what you are imagining. I offer to bring the boon because I don’t wish to have to kill you. Kiriah has blessed this place, and I suspect she would not appreciate blood spilled here for such a trivial reason.”
The headman took a step toward me, leaning in until his breath brushed my face. “Do not think your threats hold any sway with me, priest. I will allow you to bring the boon only because I do not have time to search the entire complex for the head priestess. But do not tarry with your task. We leave at the rise of the moon.”
I gasped at his words even though I knew it was stupid to be so superstitious. “You set sail under the light of the moon?”
A smile curled his lips, and for the first time, I realized he was actually a very handsome man under all those scars. “Lord Deo is half-Starborn. Do you think he fears the light of the goddess Bellias?”
“No, but ...” I made an awkward gesture. “It’s folly to sail without light.”
“Lord Deo is the child of the greatest queen Genora has ever known, and she is graced by Bellias herself.” He gestured toward his men, who finally extricated their sleeves from the wall. “Do not be late, else I will be sure Lord Deo knows who failed him. Come, we ride to Colburn to meet with a man who bears Kiriah’s grace.”
The men left the temple, their boots sounding loudly as they made their way out to their horses. I stood in the doorway, leaning against it as I watched them ride out of the gates, headed to the little town of Temple’s Vale.
“Deacon’s Cross,” I murmured to myself, thinking furiously. If I stole one of the temple mules ... no, not steal, that would bring down the wrath of the goddess ... if I borrowed one of the mules, then I could be at Deacon’s Cross well before moonrise. But that meant I’d need to get the boon from Sandor’s chamber now, pack the things I’d need, and make my escape while everyone was having their evening meal.
Would Kiriah forgive me for temporarily abandoning her worship in order to bring right to the wrongs of the world? I bit my lip, not sure of the answer, but knowing my heart had already committed to the action.
Spinning on my heel, I rattled the gate until Feliza appeared to unlock it.
“Did you find Sandor?” I asked, picking up the hem of my robe with one hand, and clutching my bow and quiver with the other.
“No, she was going out to see to the evening meal, and then go along the stream to pick herbs,” Feliza said, and obviously would have chatted about the men who’d just darkened our doorstep, but I ran off to my small chamber before she could do more than say, “What did you say to get them to leave—”
I was already planning how I would slip into Sandor’s rooms to fetch the boon—which I knew was contained in a gold-chased box that sat in a pride of place on a small altar in her bedchamber—and which path I’d take to the stable. “Goddess willing, no one will realize I’m missing until the initiates are done with their prayer tomorrow morning,” I breathed, and sat down to write a note of explanation to Sandor, and a promise that I would return as soon as I could.
Kiriah, I felt, would understand my action in taking my fate into my own hands.
Deo was an entirely different matter.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Deacon’s Cross,” I told Buttercup the mule as we jogged along the track heading east to the coast, “is a much bigger town than you are used to. Where Temple’s Vale is small and compact, Deacon’s Cross is a port city.”
Buttercup swiveled her ears around so she could listen to me. Of all the mules kept by the temple, she was my favorite. She was curious, didn’t take any guff from the horses she met in our local little village, and made no bones abou
t the importance of keeping her happy. I kind of felt like she was an equine extension of myself.
“I tell you this because I don’t want you acting skittish when we get there.” I shifted in the saddle, flexing my posterior muscles. I wasn’t used to riding for more than the few minutes it took to get to Temple’s Vale, and Buttercup’s trot was not the smoothest. “Also, I will be finding someone to take you back to the temple, so that the goddess doesn’t smite me where I stand for borrowing you without sending you home, and I will expect that you behave yourself with whoever I find to do that. None of your ‘That shrub is a monster! I must rear and throw off my rider’ shenanigans, if you please.”
Buttercup snorted disgustedly, but I took the fact that she didn’t, in fact, try to throw me as a sign of her compliance.
I looked around as we rode through the country, the rolling fields of grapes undulating to the south, while to the north, the vineyards gave way to lush grasslands dotted with sheep and cattle. The farther east I rode, though, the sparser the land, until at last I started spotting gulls in the air and noticed the faintest hint of salt on the wind.
“Greetings,” I said when I rode up on an elderly couple driving a pony cart laden with what appeared to be their household goods. “Blessings of Kiriah on you.”
“And to you,” the old man said, nodding and bobbing his head. “May the goddess smile upon you this day.”
“Thank you. Are we far from Deacon’s Cross, do you know? I haven’t been there since I was a child, and I don’t remember how much longer the trip will take. Since the sun will be setting soon ...” I left the rest of the sentence unspoken. There wasn’t a Fireborn alive who didn’t understand the desire to be tucked up safely inside when the sun went down.
“You’re a priest,” the man said, nudging his wife, who was dozing. “Old woman, look who I found on the road—a priest from the temple.”
“What? What’s she doing this far from home?” The woman rubbed her wrinkled round face and blinked rheumy blue eyes at me. “That’s no priest, old man.”
“She is. She’s wearing the robes of a priest.”
“She’s armed to the teeth. That’s one of Lord Israel’s soldiers, that is.”
“She’s wearing the robe,” he argued.
“Your eyes are bad, you old coot. She’s got a bow hanging off the saddle, and two swords crossed over her back. Those are soldier’s weapons!”
“Actually,” I said, interrupting the argument, which showed signs of becoming quite heated, “I hope to be both. I am a priest now, but I’m hoping to be taken into Lord Deo’s regiment. Do you know how long it will take to get to Deacon’s Cross?”
“Another three hours,” the old man said, nodding. His head was bald with just the merest fringe of white hair running around the sides and back, but his eyes, despite his wife’s opinion, were keen. “You won’t get there before sundown. You’d best stop at the next village and spend the night.”
“Thank you, but I must press on. I have important business with Lord Deo. Blessings to you both.” I sketched a rune in the air, causing the same rune to glow briefly on their respective foreheads.
“Did you see, old woman? She blessed us with good fortune,” the man said, nudging his wife again.
“Of course I saw. I’m sitting right here, aren’t I?” she grumbled, but flashed me an almost toothless smile and bobbed her head at me. “That was right nice of the soldier to take her time to do that. But don’t let that give you ideas, old man! I don’t want you gambling at the village just because you bear a blessing. ...”
I left them arguing about what good a blessing was if you couldn’t use it (I hadn’t the heart to tell them I’d blessed them with protection rather than fortune) and, humming to myself, continued my journey.
It was a good two hours past nightfall when we made it into Deacon’s Cross. By then I was on foot, leading Buttercup, in order to give her a break, and I was both excited and a little intimidated by the bustle of the town. The only other time I’d been there, I was a mere child, and in the company of all the other new initiates who were to be blessed by the archpriest. It seemed to me that the town was bigger now, with sprawling neighborhoods in which the citizens were out and about even at night. Tall torches were lit, some set against housefronts, others freestanding, illuminating round patches on the silvery cobblestones, the pungent smell of smoke mingling with those of food, spices, and humanity.
There were food vendors calling their wares and waving bowls, from which emerged tempting smells. There were shops with exotic cloth, the light spilling from the opened doorways and unshuttered windows to highlight pools of ruby, sapphire, and rich plum textiles. There were metalworking shops, with highly polished brass bowls and lanterns that glinted softly in the firelight.
People thronged in the street, laughing and talking and calling to one another, women with baskets over their arms, and shawls draped over their heads against the night air, and men with tunics ornate with embroidery, fancy crossties on their leggings, smoking pipes filled with highly scented tobacco. Weaving in and out of it all, dogs and children ran amok, along with chickens and geese and goats, which scattered and squawked and bleated. ... It was a cacophony of noise and sound and scent, and for a moment, Buttercup and I stood in dumbfounded amazement at it all.
Then Buttercup discovered a bowl of some milky substance and, while I was busy gawking at the activity around us, stuck her nose in it and began drinking noisily.
“Oy!” the vendor said, appearing suddenly and poking a finger into my shoulder. “That’ll cost you five silver pieces.”
“What?” I looked down to find Buttercup, her muzzle dripping with milk, lowering her head into the bowl again. “No! Stop sucking it up, Buttercup! That’s not yours!”
“It is now,” the vendor said, sucking his teeth and holding out his hand. “Five silver pieces, that’ll cost you.”
“For a bowl of milk?” I scoffed at him.
“That was the finest ass’s milk, that was. Ladies use it to bathe in. Five silver pieces.”
“Two,” I said, pulling out the small leather purse that hung from a thong around my neck.
“Four. That whole bowl is spoiled, now that your mare’s nose has been in it.”
“Three, and not one copper more. You don’t have to tell someone who’s going to use the milk to bathe in that Buttercup was drinking it. Here, three silver pieces. And next time, keep your bowl up where mules can’t find it.”
We left the man sputtering about people taking advantage of him, and marched onward, pausing twice to ask directions. The moon was rising in the sky by the time we found the camp on the far side of town where Deo had set up several tents. We headed straight for the largest tent, set well back from the others. Although we garnered many glances, no one stopped us until I tied Buttercup to a stack of wooden barrels and went to enter the tent.
A man whom I hadn’t noticed sitting in the shadow of some packing crates suddenly sprang to his feet and blocked my way. “No one is allowed in there. Go about your business, priest.”
“I’m here to see Deo,” I said, trying to step around him.
He put up his arms to keep me back. “I said no one is allowed in. Lord Deo sees no one.”
“He’ll see me.”
The man snorted derisively. He was shorter than me, slight of build, but with long golden curls that lay along his shoulders. He was dressed in a rather ostentatious manner, but had a wicked-looking pair of daggers strapped to his hips. “That he won’t.”
“Tell him Allegria is here, and has something he wants.”
He sneered openly at me. “I doubt that. Yes, I very much doubt that.”
“Don’t be so crude. I have the boon that he sent to the Temple of Kiriah Sunbringer for, and I must deliver it to his hands personally.”
“Give it to me,” he said, holding out his hand.
I ignored the imperious tone. “Just tell him I’m here.”
“He won’t see
you.”
“Goddess above, just tell him, or I will call Kiriah’s wrath down upon your head for obstructing one of her favored servants!”
He looked like he was going to refuse but, after a moment or two, slid behind one of the panels that guarded the tent’s entrance. In less time than it takes to count to twenty, he returned, a smug look on his face heralding bad news for me.
“As I thought, Lord Deo does not wish to see you. He demands you hand over the boon to me. You will give it to me now.”
Hurt flashed through me, followed immediately by anger. How dare Deo refuse to see me? He’d sworn never to forget me!
Had he forgotten? Or had he remembered, but just didn’t want to see me? It didn’t matter which was true—at the very least, he could tell me to my face that he didn’t want my help. I eyed the little man standing impatiently before me, wondered briefly if Kiriah would be displeased if I smote him on the spot, and decided, in the end, to hand over the boon.
“Fine, but do not unwrap the coverings,” I said, pulling out of the saddlebag a small, silk-bound object. It felt like a book, and I assumed the goddesses had come together to create some powerful spell for Deo’s use in bringing peace to the lands, but which was not given to him due to the invasion. “They are sealed with wax, and Deo will know if they are tampered with.”
“I am Lord Deo’s personal body servant,” the man said with a smile so unctuous, it made my hand itch. “There is nothing he keeps from me.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” I shrugged. “But if you want to court his wrath and that of both goddesses, then it’s on your head.”
He paled just enough that I felt confident he’d hand over the boon unopened.
“Be off. Lord Deo has many important things to do tonight,” the little man said before disappearing into the tent again.
“As do I,” I said softly, and, with a quick glance around the area, led Buttercup over to a spot where a group of horses were tethered. I tried to negotiate with one of the lads tending the animals for her to be returned to the temple, but didn’t care for the way he eyed my few precious silver coins. I had a feeling her fate would not be what she deserved should I leave her with him.
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