Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1)

by Jonathan Michael

  “Goose, we spent a few silvers as it is. That gold rib is nearly half spent. We never know when we’ll see another in our lifetime. I think one pair of boots is plenty. And when Jay is good and well, we’ll need to freshen her wardrobe too.” I tap my foot on the stoop. “What is taking so long? I’d like to see my sister. If there’s no response, then we force our way in. Jay shouldn’t be left unattended, and Astor’s intelligent enough to know that. I highly doubt she’s out for a morning stroll, and it’s too early for errands.”

  “Could’ve at least gotten us some stockings.” He gives me a sidelong glance without turning his head from the door. “These boots are already beginning to chafe.”

  I shake my head, ignoring his comment otherwise. Then I rap on the door, a bit harder this time, and wait. Nothing.

  “Do you know how to pick a lock?” I ask Goose.

  “In this region? Yes.” Goose turns the handle and pushes. The door creaks as he slowly nudges it open. Goose winks with a grin. “That’s why they call me Goose the Great! Country folk are the most trustworthy sort. Give you access to everything, but ain’t afraid to take it back neither.”

  “They’re fishermen, not country folk. It could be booby trapped with hooks and nets. And nobody calls you that.” I let Goose enter first.

  Quietly enough, so as not to wake their slumber, we enter the common room where Jaymes’s cot is. My heart skips a beat. Neither one of them is here. I shake my head to level out my exaggerated thoughts, knowing it could be as simple as nature’s calling, or maybe Astor moved her into the sleeping quarters. No need to speculate. Calm down.

  I start toward the sleeping quarters. Goose pokes around the common space. I don’t know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t appear productive—opening cabinets, fiddling with clutter. I roll my eyes at him.

  “Astor?” I say in a loud whisper. “Astor? You here?”

  I’m not well versed in the etiquette of invading homes, but I know it’s not polite to force your way into a woman’s sleeping quarters uninvited. I repeat myself, louder this time. Nothing. I hesitate to go farther. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. She’s already informed us of her sensitivity to our insolence, and I can’t risk losing her help. Despite my predispositions, I poke my head around the corner of the open doorway. I feel relieved. There are two lumps hidden beneath the bed linens.

  “Goose?” What is he doing out there? “Goose!”

  “Yeah? What?” He turns around with a bottle in his hand.

  My face tightens as I lower my brow. “What is that?”

  “Fragrance. Her scent, you know.” He sets it down and walks to my side. “Just thought I’d get a whiff. It’s sweet. Honey, and something flowery.”

  “You’re an idiot. They’re both asleep back here.”

  “What?” Goose’s eyes widen, then he shakes his head. “No. That’s asinine. Jay wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as that woman. Unless…” His jaw slackens. “…the two of them were seeking forbidden pleasures.” A smile stretches across his face.

  I throw a fist at his shoulder. It doesn’t faze him, which aggravates me even more. “That’s my sister, you jackass! How does your mind go directly to that scenario anyways?” I ask.

  “I’m a man. Of nineteen seasons. And I’ve been living in the wood for the better part of my manhood. A man tends to get lonely. Hence, every scenario involves a naked woman.” Goose stares at me as if I’m a simpleton.

  “Should we wake them? What do you think?”

  “Yes, we should wake them!” he comments and struts into the room without hesitation. “The sun is up and so should they be.”

  He has a good point. We can’t linger too long. We need to be on our way if Astor’s suspension is complete. To avoid any ear-popping screeches or backhands—because I know that would be Jay’s initial reaction—I walk with a heavy step to stir them.

  I tap on the shoulder of whoever is nearest me. I can’t see any faces because they’re under the covers. No movement. I tap harder and still no movement. I shake her more aggressively and notice a limpness to her body.

  My heart skips another beat and for good reason this time. I pull back the linens to see a woman who I’ve never seen before. She is a woman with short, black hair and dark skin, or at least it used to be. Her flesh is pale. I tear the covers from her body and reveal the person next to her. Jay isn’t here, nor is Astor. It’s the young disciple, Astor’s apprentice, lying motionless and pale. And the girl, now I recognize her, she was Astor’s other friend. I feel ashamed for having already forgotten their names.

  Both have a small amount of dried blood on their necks. And it’s dribbled to the linens as well. The puncture wound is no bigger than a needle point. Whoever killed them gave them a clean death, but was it a painless one?

  I look to Goose for an explanation. He remains silent and wide-eyed, not the same wide-eyed as when he thought Jay and Astor were sharing a bed, but absent. I’ve never witnessed this look on him before. He silently stares at the lifeless bodies where Jaymes and Astor should be.

  “This is the Taoiseach’s doing, right? It can’t just be a coincidence.” I think out loud. “The Woman-in-Red who visited us, she was only interested in Jay. I tried prodding during our travels, but she wouldn’t divulge any information about herself, not even her name. She did this. She must’ve followed me here last night. Dammit! So naïve! By the end of our travels I thought maybe…” I run my hands through my hair and grab hold of it with vigor. “…I thought maybe she was a good-hearted person who was merely fulfilling her duties. But I knew the truth of it. I just didn’t want to believe it. I fucked up, Goose. I fucked up, and now Jay’s in further danger. Or…” I can’t finish the sentence. I don’t want to think what else could have happened to her.

  “Calm down, Stone. It’s not Jay lying here. We’ll find her.

  He quickly rebounds from his shock and now appears to be cold to the lifeless bodies in front of us. “You were bamboozled by your cock. It happens, Stone. I bet she told you her intentions up front and you still led her straight to Jay.”

  “You’re a rather large asshole at times.” I glare at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “And go where?”

  “I don’t know. We can’t linger here. Two drifters in a small town hovering over two dead bodies. It’ll only lead us to the noose.” I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. An assailant causing us to flee our home, trusting strangers with our lives when we’ve been in hiding for four seasons, and now, unknown dead bodies in the place of my sister and her caretaker. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go. What happens next? Is Jaymes lost to us? No. I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that. I will find her. But where? And why would the Taoiseach collect Jay and not Goose and I? What’s so important about Jay? And why would he commit murder to collect an accused murderer, which he knows the truth of? There’s only one thing I’m sure of.

  “The Crimson Capital,” I say to Goose, unbelieving of the decision I’ve just made.

  “Yeah, right,” he mocks.

  I stare at him intently.

  “You’re serious? The capital? First, we don’t have any way of getting there. We can’t walk. Helios would fall dead, and autumn would be upon us before we arrived. Second, and more importantly, we’d lose our heads the moment we crossed the gates. We can’t go to the Crimson Capital.”

  “You might lose your head, but I was only a boy the last time I set foot there. Nobody would recognize me. The Woman-in-Red didn’t. I could go. Jaymes is alive. Otherwise, she’d be lying in this bed. Right? There’s no other choice.”

  Goose grabs me by the shoulders. “That woman did recognize you! Why else do you think she followed you here? Because she wanted your little nut sack?”

  I shuffle out of his grasp, and he sits down on the bed next to the deceased girl. I cringe inside.

  “Regardless, I do believe that’s your next stop. We can’t write Jaymes off so easily.”

 
“Nobody’s writing her off!” I snap back.

  He rises and firmly places a hand on my shoulder again, but in a comforting way. “Of course not. So, where do we find you a ride? Nobody would think it a fair barter to trade for Helios. He’s aged and unworthy of riding.”

  It infuriates me that thought even crosses his mind. He never has grasped the concept that a beastly companion can be as close to the heart as a human companion. I don’t know if it’s his upbringing or pure arrogance. Maybe both.

  “Helios is out of the question!”

  “Exactly what I just said,” he attests.

  “Helios is loyal. He stays with us. What about that Advocate you spoke with? I’ve never heard of an Advocate being swayed by the hand of the Taoiseach. And they’re a helpful folk, as he’s already proven.”

  “It’s a start, I suppose,” Goose agrees.

  The sun is just clearing the horizon, and its heat is already torturing all its dependents. It’s fascinating how reliant life is on something that causes so much misery with too much or too little of it. Is it possible our world is one of a kind like the Advocates preach? In perfect balance due to Susy? Maybe one day I’ll let my curiosity lead me as I used to with Elder, but it’s not important right now.

  Goose and I walk briskly, fearing if we run it’ll spark too much attention. Once the bodies are discovered, the two drifters sprinting from the scene will be the first thing they recall. For some ungodly reason, it’s human nature to strive for drama, and we’d be the perfect remedy for these townsfolk.

  “Have you ever wandered inside one of these places before?” Goose asks with an odd excitement. One that seems unnecessary for the predicament we’re currently in.

  “Of course.” I respond.

  “Oh. Well me too, but this is the first one I’ve been in that was so… so…”

  “So beautiful.” I finish his sentence.

  “Yes, but…no. So…miraculous! Beautiful isn’t quite enough. The way the golden sun above enriches each season in its own light, leaving you fulfilled whether you’re in the blazing heat of summer or the frozen icicles of winter. It makes me feel good just stepping into the place.”

  “What’s with the sudden curiosity in Susy? You’ve never been a follower.”

  “Not Susy,” he asserts. “Just the architecture. It’s so inviting.”

  “That’s the point.”

  I push open the large oak door with ease—surprising for how massive it is—and we step into the comfort of the House of Seasons. Just as Goose described, the golden light radiating down upon us gives a sense of warmth, but the cool ground below balances the atmosphere. Perfection, if such a thing is obtainable. It’s been awhile since I’ve been in one of these places, but this one feels different. It’s as inviting as the aroma of freshly baked sugar cookies coming from a baker’s home. Or the sweet nectar of a flytrap eager to dissolve your insides. Either way, it’s inviting.

  “Goose! How nice it is to see you. I wasn’t sure if I’d have the pleasure again. How’s your sister doing? Her health is progressing, I hope. Please, take a seat. Let me wash your feet.”

  A man with a very rugged overtone and dressed in a godly white robe welcomes us. This must be the Advocate he spoke with. I find it peculiar that words of such sincerity and grace are coming from someone with his semblance. Whatever. I needn’t be quick to judge, especially toward an Advocate.

  “We are in need of assistance, Your Elegance,” I say to him out of turn. But I respect tradition and take a seat on the nearest pew.

  “No need for formalities here, young sir. They call me Gunther Wormbit.” He extends to shake my hand before wandering over to the water basin for a pale of fresh water and a cloth.

  I haven’t experienced this since I was a boy. The last time I worshiped at the House of Seasons was up north in my hometown of Redoak.

  “Young sir?” I respond. “Like you said, no need for formalities. Call me Elder. Elder Alderock.” Goose gives me a sidelong glance, obviously wondering as to why I would need an alias in a House of Seasons.

  “Ah, yes, of course. The Elder that Astor informed me about. The name had already slipped my mind. My apologies, Elder. Now…you have a problem that needs solving? How can I be of assistance?”

  The old man kneels before me and pulls the new boots from my feet. They still smell of fresh leather. My feet haven’t tainted them yet. I can see Goose’s discomfort with this situation. Not having any experience with the religion, he’s probably wondering why a stranger would wash my feet.

  “We have an urgent matter to attend to up north in the Crimson Capital. Yet, we have no ride. We could walk, but time is of the essence. We need to reach the capital as soon as possible.”

  “Ah. I see. Well, unfortunately I don’t own a stable or any animals worthy of riding. This problem of yours, are you positive it’s worth chasing? If I had to guess, based on the energy in the room, the two of you seem to be making an emotional decision. Is there anything you’d like to talk to me about? Can Susy’s hand be of any assistance in this matter?”

  “You’re an Advocate, correct?” Goose replies to his question.

  “Correct.” The old man sits upright on the balls of his feet and pauses from washing my feet. He clutches his back as pain shows on his face. Goose sits down next to me on the oak pew. The Advocate scoots uncouthly and stops in front of Goose. He dips the cloth in the pale and removes Goose’s boots. Goose cocks his head and looks at me from his peripheral.

  Goose continues. “I have two questions, then. First, why are you washing our feet? We’re strangers, and with you being a prestigious Advocate, why would you bother washing the feet of a man below you? It’s odd, right?”

  The Advocate smiles at him and answers humbly. “There is nothing but the floor below me, young lad, and even that is worth washing. And your second question?”

  Goose runs a hand along the back of his head and massages it. “You’re an Advocate, so if we talk to you, it’s in confidence, correct?” he asks.

  “Yes, of course. Please, anything you need to talk about. I’m all ears,” Gunther says.

  “Well…first, his name isn’t Elder, as you’re aware.”

  “Goose! What are you doing?” I snap at him, ready to strike him for his stupidity.

  “He knows, Stone.” Goose shrugs off my interjection and continues. “Just wanted to clear that up.”

  “Yes, of course,” replies Gunther. “Stone McLarin of Redoak, correct?”

  “How? How do you know that?” I reply nervously, feeling rather shameful at the moment. He has my attention. Depending what his next words are, I may have to bolt.

  “I am an Advocate, Stone McLarin. It is my duty to know who is confiding in me.”

  “That doesn’t really answer my question,” I reply. Again, ashamed. Why would I say such a thing to an Advocate?

  “Don’t worry. Nobody will recognize you in your travels north to the Crimson Capital. You’re a man now. Not the young lad that escaped wrongful accusations from that tyrant.”

  “You know?”

  “Yes, but that isn’t why you’re here. So, was there something else you needed to discuss with me or was it just that little white lie?” Gunther asks.

  “It’s Jaymes,” I reply.

  “And Astor,” Goose fills in. He looks tense and awkward as Gunther holds his foot in the palm of his hand, scrubbing it gently.

  “They’re missing,” I continue. “We went to her home at sunup, and they weren’t there.”

  “And?”

  “And…” Goose replies coolly. “There were two corpses.”

  “Ah, and you’re positive they were dead?” He asks and pulls another cloth from his waistline. He dries each of our feet one by one.

  “Yes,” I reply. “Lifeless, colorless bodies. And decaying, based on the smell.” Why isn’t he more panicked about the situation? I just told him we found two dead bodies in his village, and he’s as peaceful as ever. “Are you not concerned ab
out the bodies?”

  “Yes. Of course. But I trust you are right when you say they’re deceased. If they are already dead, then there is no need to rush to their aid, is there? I think the priority is getting the two of you out of town. The citizens here won’t be as trusting of your alibi.”

  “Gunther…” I hesitate, but he needs to know. “I think you may have been close to one of them. There was a young man wearing a disciple’s robe. He was—”

  “Nero.” Gunther interrupts. “He was attached to Astor by the hip. She was tutoring him in the Hiberneyt talents. He was an optimistic and eager lad. It wasn’t his time.”

  “And the other…she was a young dark-haired lass. In servant’s attire,” I say.

  “Crescia,” Gunther adds. “Also one of Astor’s apprentices. A lost soul trying to make her way back into the rights.” He lowers his head, shaking it slowly.

  “I’m sorry, Gunther,” says Goose, more sincerely than I believed him capable.

  “Yes, you have our condolences,” I add.

  Gunther then, without word, retreats momentarily down the stairs leading underneath the House of Seasons, gripping his back the entire way. He must have living quarters below. His return up the stairs is a bit quicker. Still gripping his back with one hand but holding something in his other hand.

  “These’ll do you well. Help keep the blisters off your feet.” He raises his hand to reveal stockings. “Elder.” He winks and slips stockings over my feet, followed by the leather boots. He shuffles over to Goose in a painful manner. “Thank you, Goose.” And he fixes stockings and leather footwear onto Goose’s feet as well. “Honesty is the fastest approach through life’s challenges. So, are both of you heading to the capital?” He looks to Goose suspiciously. Goose sends me a sidelong glance.

  “Why would you not go after Jay? You wanted to oust the Taoiseach, did you not? And he’s in the capital. What are you not telling me?”

  “Gunther has informed me of another, possible, solution. And…” He hesitates. “…her name is Old Lady Windblown.”