The Valley of Ten Crescents Series (Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  “Well, I figure you know what I’ve got in my purse and know I’m good for it, why not get your grip of blues when you can?” she asked, watching Tender try not to blush. “I know you’ve got people keeping watch on me,” Tavera shot. “How much’ve I got in my purse, Tender? You guess right, I’ll pay you double for the beer.”

  “I guess right and you pay me double?” He stroked his mustache and smirked. “Sounds like a bet I can take.”

  “And when you lose, I get this beer for free,” Tavera said, holding the beer up and taking another swig. She wanted to take it up to her room and savor it before prayers but a bit of fun and getting the beer for free wouldn’t be a bad way to spend her time.

  “Fine,” Tender said. He looked her over, as if the answer to his question would be written on her somewhere. Tavera wagged her brows at him, letting her mouth hang open stupidly as he stroked his chin. “Eight blueies.”

  “Free beer!” Tavera exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and almost spilling some of her gains in the process. Tender made a sound that was half a laugh, half a curse as he turned away from her. The young woman who had helped him set up the bar for service handed him two chairs, laughing at Tender as well. He sighed and set the chairs in place, starting the first row for would be worshipers.

  Tavera leaned back on the bar and thought about her purse. It had five in it, and her second purse had three but she always kept a few coins tucked into her belt. Eleven altogether. Quite a bit for a few hands of cards in a small town but Tavera wasn’t complaining. Tender had underestimated her.

  Tavera took another sip from her beer and shook her head at the barkeep, watching him set up chairs. “You didn’t think the priestess would be best at keeping eyes on me, did you? You should send that handsome fellow after me next time, unless you’re trying to keep him all for yourself.” She enjoyed the puzzled look on Tender’s face, watching him trying to figure out who she was talking about. “Is he your lover?” she asked. “He ain’t going to be happy when I tell him the eyes you’ve been making at me.”

  Tender shook his head. The young woman laughed. “Lovers? This one? He’s too busy standing with his arms crossed to do anything with anyone.”

  Tender shot a look at the woman, placing his hands on his head. He was obviously a bit embarrassed by the comment and he cleared his throat. “That’s not all I do, Bayla,” he shot at the young woman before turning his attention back to Tavera. “No, uh…I mean, who are you speaking of?”

  “Blond hair, big ears, too serious for his own good?” Tavera said. “Good at catching rabbits?”

  Tender laughed out loud, smiling. “Who’s watching who?” Tender asked, setting up a few more chairs. “That’s my brother, Little. Herix, but everyone calls him Little.” Tender spun a chair under his hand before he set it in its place, smirking a bit at Tavera. “Why, were you jealous?”

  “No, I’ve never wanted a sibling,” Tavera quipped, taking a sip of her beer. Brothers? She recalled the other man’s face. There was a similarity there. But Tender was dark-haired with a darker complexion while Little had hair the color of hay and freckled under the sun.

  “You know what I meant.” Tender walked behind the bar. He bent down and when he stood up he had a guitar in his hands. He pulled a strap out and came back around.

  “Jealous that you’re not sleeping with your brother?” Tavera watched as he latched the strap to either end of the guitar and pulled it over his head. Broad fingers pressed into the strings and he strummed a happy chord, plucking a few notes, turning the keys as he tried to get the instrument in tune.

  “Forget I said anything,” he insisted, continuing to play. “Are you coming to service?”

  “Planning on it,” Tavera said. “Though I prefer morning prayers to vespers.”

  “Somehow, I’m surprised to hear you’re a morning person,” Tender said, strumming a few quick chords and taking off the guitar. He ran his hand across the counter before he laid the instrument on top.

  “I’m not,” Tavera admitted. “I usually stay up all night, go to morning prayers and then go to bed.”

  Tender grinned at her. “Some things do change, I guess.”

  “For now,” Tavera said, smiling but narrowing her eyes at him. She took another sip and looked to the guitar, noting its craftsmanship. “Where’d you get the guitar?”

  “Oh, it was my father’s,” Tender said. “He left it here, years ago. My mam gave it to me when I was big enough to hold it.”

  “Did he leave anything for your brother?” Tavera asked. She stared at the top of her drink, waiting for Tender’s answer.

  “A hunting knife, actually,” Tender said. He picked up a chair and moved it over. “Which suits him. Guess he knew.”

  “Right,” Tavera said. She thought about this for a breath before she sighed, turning to head up the stairs. “Well, I’m off to my room for a bit. How long after vespers is evening meal?”

  “I started a stew this afternoon, as I usually do on days we hold prayers, but we’ll have drunk rabbit and cakes if you’re willing to spend your hard-earned money.” Tender wagged his eyebrows at her as she backed toward the stairs.

  “What kind of stew?” she asked, her back toward the door leading to the staircase.

  “Duck with white tops and greens and mushrooms,” Tender said.

  “Any sausage in it?” she interrogated.

  “No.” Tender looked confused.

  “Good,” Tavera said. “I hate sausage. I’ll see you at prayers.” With a nod of her head, she slipped up the stairs, down the small hallway, ducking into her room. She locked the door before she set the beer on the small table and flounced onto the bed.

  Staying up during the day was hard, she told herself, laying on her back. Tavera reached out and grabbed hold of her beer bottle, taking another mouthful. It was good beer. The best she’d had? It was a tossup. More interesting than the beer was the priestess and Tender. What had happened to Sister Kella to warrant her strange position in the village? The priestess didn’t seem too upset about it. She obviously had other things in her mind.

  Tender’s brother also interested her. It seemed almost obvious they didn’t have the same father but Tender hadn’t mentioned it. Not that it mattered. Tender was obviously devoted to his brother. The barkeep was obviously a man of loyalty, probably to a fault. It was a curiosity which piqued Tavera’s interest and it made the prospect of heading south to see Lights a little dimmer. Never bad to learn something about where you are, that’s what Derk would say. She could find out more about the priestess and see just how far Tender’s devotion went before getting on the road. Tavera took another gulp of her beer and set it back on the table, pulling her prayer beads off the stand and wrapping them around her wrist.

  She’d had it in her mind to lie in bed before service but now Tavera felt restless. A walk around town would probably calm her nerves. She raked her fingers through her shaggy dark hair before pulling her cap back on, tucking in the loose strands, hiding her ears away. A shawl would keep away the chills on her stroll and if the windows were opened during the service, which they should be. It let the prayers of the people and the incense of the altar spill out into the open air, or so the sermon said. Tavera wondered who made the incense for the church and where Tender and Sister Kella kept it.

  Bringing her bottle, her prayer beads and her purse with her, Tavera exited the room. She turned and carefully tucked a ribbon between the door and the frame, making sure no one else was in the hallway and it couldn’t be seen while standing in front of the door. Her boots clomped down the stairs, loose on her ankles as she walked, not bothering to look at Tender as she walked out into the cool spring air.

  Tavera liked the town, at least for now. It was small and easy to deal with and the food at the bar was good. But she’d been here less than a phase and already people knew her. It made her nervous. She liked Tender too. His eyes were a bit sticky, as they said, and they were stuck on Tavera. But he was kind
and honest and wanted to help people. People could use helping, Tavera knew that. She wasn’t sure she wanted the kind of guidance Tender wanted to give her, but it was a nice change of pace, to see someone come to the aid of another. Care for them. Love them.

  Tavera stopped in her tracks. The man named Little stood behind a tree, watching her. Tavera narrowed her eyes and frowned, pulling her shawl around her more tightly. “Little, right?” she called. “What, did your brother send you after me too?”

  Tavera wasn’t sure if he was nervous about having been caught or if he sincerely thought if he said nothing, she’d move on. For a few breaths he remained behind the tree, but must have realized Tavera wasn’t going anywhere; he stepped out onto the path. Tavera looked him up and down again, noting his gear. “No, you must have spotted me coming back from the forest,” she said. “Wanted to check me out again for yourself. Catch anything?”

  “No,” Little said. He gave her a sidelong glance. His hair was too short in some places and too long in others. It stuck up in a way which made Tavera want to laugh. He seemed to have trouble looking her in the eye as well.

  “You headed to service?” she asked. “It’s starting in a little bit. I’m sure you’ll hear your brother ring the bell.”

  “I ain’t,” Little said. There was a hint of defiance in his voice. It surprised Tavera, almost amused her.

  “Of course you’re not,” Tavera said. “Because you’re…getting a haircut instead?” He blushed and his ears did turn red, as Tavera had expected. She tittered. “No, that’s not the reason. You don’t like vespers?” she asked. “Prefer morning prayers?” She watched as he looked down at the ground, seeming self-conscious. “Afternoon? Don’t like praying in a bar? Don’t like the priestess? Your brother? Meeting a lady for some plowing?” Now he looked up, blushing even redder than before. Tavera laughed out loud.

  “It’s my business,” he muttered, looking toward the forest. Tavera’s eyes drifted toward the trees as well before they narrowed, frowning again.

  “Oh, like me walking down this path is my own business?” she chided. “Is anyone’s business their own? In a town this small?” Tavera made a sound in her throat and kept on walking. “Have your forest, Little Tender, and unmind my business while you’re at it. You and your brother. Allow a body to have some secrets.”

  “Everyone always has secrets,” Little called after her. Tavera turned and grinned at him, walking backwards down the road.

  “It’s one of the lessons from the Goddess,” she called, watching his face darken as she said it. She waved a hand at him before she turned and continued down the road. The spring air was cooling quickly and the weight of the shawl felt good around her shoulders. Tavera pulled it over her head as she walked through the town, wondering what secrets lay behind the unlocked doors of the homes and shops of Whitend. She doubted she would ever find them all. The secrets of other towns and other people would probably pull her out of this one long before she did.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Prayers and Aid

  Blessed Goddess

  Holy Mother

  Help your children

  Love each other

  Guide us with your gracious handful

  Help us all to understand

  Though the world

  Around us rages

  You are with us

  Through the ages

  Guide us with your grace each day

  Holy Mam, these words we pray

  Tender played the end of the closing song, the congregation lowing their hands from over their hearts. The scent of incense mixed with the evening air pouring in through the windows and the aroma of food cooking in the kitchen made Tavera’s stomach gurgle. Sister Kella nodded to the people in the bar, holding her hands out to give the closing blessing.

  “In Her waxing power, may you prosper, in Her growing light, may Her revelation shine. Go in mercy, love and peace. May Her Black Hand guide us.”

  “May Her Black Hand guide us,” Tavera repeated, her voice joining the voices of the others. The closing words said, Tavera turned, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor telling her people were wasting no time in getting the room put back together for the evening. There were still a few hours of drinking, eating and gaming to be done. Tavera watched Tender put his hand on the priestess’ shoulder and squeeze it warmly. He looked happy. Sister Kella looked tired. The service over, he ducked into the kitchen to tend to the evening meal while the sister sat at the bar, with her elbows propped up on the bar top.

  “Admirable sermon, Sister,” Tavera said, slipping onto the seat beside her. Sister Kella looked at her, a bit of surprise on her face. “The Moonflower’s Promise.”

  “Yes well, I’ve heard it often enough,” Sister Kella said. She half huffed it. Tavera sensed the priestess was impatient, her eyes trailing towards the kitchen. “Where is that man with my spirits?”

  As if summoned, Tender emerged from the back with a smile on his face. He no longer held his guitar but instead had a long clay pitcher, something written on it with purple wax. “Heartberry wine, spiced in the style of the year you came here. Brewed by my own hand.”

  “Your wine’s always spicier than your mother’s, but I like it.” Sister Kella inspected the bottle, running her thumb over the seal.

  “Her beers are older, more subdued but better blended,” Tender admitted.

  “Age will do that, to beer at least,” Kella chortled, tucking the bottle under her arm. “A good woman your mother was. In the Goddess’ Bosom, to be sure.” Kella slipped down from the stool and nodded to Tender, bowing her head to Tavera. “Put it on my tab, Tender. And good evening to you both.”

  Tavera watched as the priestess left the bar, then looked back to Tender. There was a sadness in his expression that made Tavera feel sad too, made her wonder about the priestess with the bloodshot eyes and hidden flask. Before Tavera could think of something comforting to say, Tender spoke up.

  “You ever want to help someone, but you can’t?” he asked. His question struck her in the chest, squeezing her heart. She thought of Derk and her promise to him, walking to the city gate and out of the town before she could change her mind, before she could turn back. Waiting outside Gam’s place for too long before leaving the west Valley and coming here. Without even asking her if she wanted it, Tender poured her a drink. She took a sip while she considered her words.

  “Everyone’s been in that situation,” was all she said. There was truth in that.

  “I just --” Tender cut himself short. He sighed and poured himself a drink too, the liquid sloshing in the mug. “I don’t know what to do. I know something’s wrong. I just don’t know what.”

  “She’s been here what, seven years? If you haven’t figured it out and she ain’t told you…” Tavera just shrugged. “Maybe it’s not meant for you to know.”

  “Six years, six and a half,” Tender said. “I just…she’s been here so long. When she first turned up, I didn’t mind as much. She wasn’t as bad. But over the years, she’s grown worse and now with us being out of the Barony…” His voice trailed off again.

  “Do you want her to get better for her own sake or for your own?” Tavera asked, trying to keep the disdain out of her voice. She must have failed. Tender’s eyes shot up, his face coloring with embarrassment.

  “For her own, of course!’ Tender said. “It’s sad to see a soul so pressed upon. So sad. When there are people around who would like to help.”

  “Maybe she thinks she’s helping you by keeping it to herself. Maybe she’s helping herself by keeping it tucked away,” Tavera tried to reason. “Or maybe…maybe she’s not ready to be helped.” Tavera looked down into her cup. “You can’t force someone, if they’re not ready.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t realize she needs help,” Tender said. The way he said it, Tavera thought maybe he meant it as much for her as he did for Kella.

  “Or perhaps,” she added, draining her glass before she set it down on the bar
top, smacking her lips before she spoke. “she knows you’re not the one to set her right.” Tender looked hurt. His mouth pulled to the side as he looked away from her. “Look, we can sit here all night talking maybes, or you can go to her home, take her alcohol, lock her up and get her on the mend. What’re you going to do, Tender?”

  “What would you do?” he asked. He seemed genuinely curious.

  “I’d let her have her drink,” Tavera said. “It’s what she wants. For reasons she don’t want to give. Help her when she asks.” Tavera thought back to when she was little and Derk had taken her on. He had helped her in a way, without asking, hadn’t he? If he had asked her to leave Prisca, to join him on his tramps through the Valley, to learn how to fight and steal because she’d be good at it, what would she have said? Tavera couldn’t say. She had been a little girl then. Quiet and prone to crying. What would Tavera want, if she was in the priestess’ cloak? If someone tried to comfort her about Derk, she’d probably laugh it off and change the subject. He was her pa, and her memories of him were hers alone.

  “Do you think she will ask, when she needs it?” Tender asked.

  “If you’re still there for her, yeah,” Tavera said. She smirked at him and put a coin on the counter. “You worry too much, Braxton Tender,” she said. “You really do.”

  “It’s only because I care,” Tender said. She should have laughed at him when he said it but instead she just nodded and smiled.

  “You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?” she asked, knowing the answer already. Tender grinned at her in response, wagging his eyebrows at her.

  “Can’t we all be good ones?” he responded, taking the cork off the bottle again.

  “No,” Tavera sighed, smiling all the same. “Not really.” She slipped off the chair and turned to head out, knowing Tender would call for her.

  “Where’re you off to now?” he asked. “I was going to give you a drink, on the house.”

  “I ran into Black Cera when I was out walking earlier and she invited me over for a game of cards after service,” Tavera said. “I’ve already kept her waiting so I’d best be off.”