Dawn of Deliverance

by Amy Hopkins

  “If not for Julianne, Garrett would still be stuck head-first in a water barrel,” Bastian confirmed. “Believe me, no man would ask Julianne or Bette to do their laundry. Not if you value your balls.”

  He tossed his wrung-out clothes in a basket, then swung it over his shoulder. “Catch you ladies later,” he called, nodding respectfully to Polly as she passed him on his way out.

  Polly threw herself on the ground, dumping a heavy basket of clothes beside her. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her mouth set in a tight line.

  “You alright there, Pol?” Tansy asked cautiously.

  “I’m fine,” Polly snapped.

  Bette shrugged, willing to let the girl be, but Tansy wouldn’t let it go.

  “You are not; you’ve been crying. Did one of our boys do something? If he did, I’ll box his ears.”

  Polly gave a quick shake of her head and Tansy sat back down. “Oh. Pity, I could’ve done with a tousle. What is it, then?”

  “It’s everything!” Polly threw her hands up in despair, fresh tears dripping down her face. “When Jakob came to tell me I had to leave Muir, I was terrified. Everything I had, I’ve left behind—friends, family, my home.”

  Tansy reached a wet hand out to pat Polly’s shoulder awkwardly. “You’ll be ‘right, now. Once we clear those bastards outta Muir, we’ll all be able to go home.”

  “Home to what?” Polly snapped. “I’ve lost my job and half the town thinks I’m a traitor.” She glowered at Tansy. “It’s alright for you lot. You’ll get to be involved in the big battle, people will see you saving their asses. Not me. I’ll be stuck in this pig shit of a town.”

  “What’s that rubbish, then?” Bette exclaimed. “Ye don’t intend ta help us take down Rogan?”

  Polly snorted. “As if anyone would let a dirty hooker get involved. The only thing I’m good at is fucking things, and I’m not even allowed to do that anymore. Well, not for money, at least. And if I’m not getting paid, what’s the point?”

  Bette’s eyes widened. “Do ye think the people of Tahn here were born with weapons in their hands or shields on their minds? They’ve worked bloody hard to recover, and to grow strong enough ter fight back.”

  Polly raised her face from her hands, eyeing Bette warily. “You think I could learn to fight?” she asked, sniffling.

  “Anyone can learn ta hold a pointy stick and shove it up a man’s arse,” Bette said, wagging a finger. “But a woman that’s learned where the rest of his soft bits are is likely to have a few tricks of her own. Yer saying it’s not so?”

  Polly sighed and flopped back on the grass, tears dry now that her mind worked over what Bette said. “I can get out of a grapple or a headlock, and I know where to stick a dagger in close quarters, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Aye, exactly! Now I just have ta teach ye ta do it from a little farther away.”

  “I can help!” Tansy cried. “I used to do a sword swallowing act. Have you ever tried to dance while swinging four blades, with another one down your throat?”

  “Well, I’ve had to dance with something down my throat, but it wasn't a sword,” Polly quipped.

  “I’d rather the sword!” Tansy squealed.

  “So, would I,” Polly agreed, finally cracking a smile.

  Bette hooted and slapped the ground. “Aye, lassie, you’ll train up quick, I’ll bet. If ye wanna see just how fast, well, all ye can do is see for yerself.”

  “Ok, then,” Polly said, sitting up. “I’ll show that uptight, mystic bastard I can be good for something. He’ll see.”

  “And which uptight mystic bastard might we be talkin’ about?” Bette asked, curiosity piqued by the passion on Polly’s face.

  “Danil.” The word hissed out between clenched teeth.

  “Oh, aye. He’ll see something, alright,” Bette murmured to herself.

  A fury like Polly’s could only come from one place—she cared what Danil thought of her, and he had given her the impression that it wasn’t much.

  “This’ll be fun,” Tansy commented after Polly had gathered her skirts and left, promising to come and see Bette for her first training lesson in the morning. “Poor old Danil won’t know what hit him.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  That evening, Lord George and Madam Seher arrived at Danil’s for dinner together.

  “Good evening!” Lord George looked around the small cottage approvingly. It was sparsely furnished and even less decorated.

  George understood the young mystic had no sight, though he would never have guessed unless he had been told. He assumed bulky furniture would make it hard to navigate the small rooms, and that decorations would just be wasted on a resident who couldn’t see.

  “Is Julianne attending this evening?” Madam Seher asked.

  George saw her eyes flash white and cleared his throat politely. “I do understand, Seher, it must be a joy to find someone to use your incredible magic with; but please remember, I can’t read your mind, or anyone else’s?”

  She laughed, apologizing and quickly explaining that Danil had told her—through mental words—that Julianne was on her way, and the soldier, Marcus, would be with her. “I’ll try to remember to use my words while you’re here, George.”

  “Don’t apologise, I do understand. I just don’t like being left out, as childish as it sounds.”

  “You need to know what’s going on,” Danil said easily, ushering the two of them to a seat each. “And we mental magicians sometimes need a kick in the pants to remember our manners. Speaking of magic, though, who taught you to shield so well?”

  “Natural talent,” Madam Seher said at the same time George waved a hand in her direction.

  “Don’t be silly, you did more than a little to help us hone the skill.”

  “Us?” Danil queried as he set lanes of bread on the table with a slab of butter.

  “Both of my children seemed to inherit the same aptitude for shielding, and Seher made sure they were well prepared for… well, for what ended up happening, really.” George grabbed a roll and started buttering it. “Adeline worked hard at it. Young George? Not so much.”

  “In all honesty, I thought it was a useless practice,” Seher said quietly. “I had no idea there were so many magic users that could warp a mind like that. I thought I might even be the only one.” Catching Danil’s pause as she reached for a roll herself, she quickly clarified. “Oh, I only use the magic for my shows and to break up a few fights every now and then. Never would have occurred to me to use it for ill gain.”

  “We suffered the same blindness,” Danil said. “Rogan trained at the Temple under the same man that taught Julianne. All we teach is kindness and empathy. I have no idea how he warped that into such a horrible thing.”

  “I do,” Julianne said as she stepped inside and took off her robe. She hung it on the hook just inside the door. “Or, the little bit I do know is enough to make a guess. One of his cult members once heard him reference the Boulevard as home.”

  “Oh.” Danil’s eyes widened a little, and he explained for their guests. “The Boulevard is the slum quarter of Arcadia. Until recently, the penalty for someone there using magic was death.”

  “Death? For living with a blessing from Bethany Anne herself?” George asked, shocked.

  “Who’s dead?” Marcus stomped in, and stopped to wipe mud off his boots at the door. His boots were caked with it, though, and eventually, with an apologetic grimace, he gave up and slipped them off.

  “Socks, too, you smelly man,” Julianne admonished, then pointed at his feet. “Can you go wash those horrid things under a tap somewhere?”

  “My toes will freeze off!” Marcus protested.

  “Plenty of food to warm them back up again,” Danil said with a grin. “And if you don’t, I’ll make sure you suffer the stink twice as bad as I do.”

  Grumbling, Marcus headed back outside and returned a few minutes later, feet dripping. Danil threw him a towel he had collected, and Marcus finally took his
seat at the table as Danil brought out the food.

  George watched the exchange with interest. He had heard so many rumors about the small group who had turned up in Tahn and proceeded to not only liberate the village, but stay on and help them rebuild.

  He didn’t ask the many questions he had; rather, he allowed the conversation to drift, first covering the recent revolution in Arcadia, which it seemed most of Julianne’s friends had taken part in, and the history of his own city, Muir.

  “So,” George finished up, “the little village my grandfather helped to defend kept growing. The bigger we got, the better we could fight off those damned remnant, and the more civilized we became. By the time magic started appearing, my father was already grooming me to take his place as the leader of my people.”

  “So, you’re not a real lord, then?” Marcus asked casually.

  “Why?” George countered. “Are you planning to lead my people in a revolt against me?”

  Marcus blushed and tried to offer an apology for the poorly-worded question, but George just laughed. “Only joking, my boy. I know you did a service to your people back in Arcadia, and it seems like you’re set on doing the same in Muir—against Rogan. But, what will you do afterwards?”

  Marcus shrugged, seeming unworried by his inability to answer. George, however, noted Julianne was paying very close attention to the young soldier’s response.

  “I guess I’ll go home. See if these magician friends of mine need a hand in their tower. Surely, they need someone to muck out the latrines every now and then?” he shot Julianne a sideways glance, but she just raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head.

  “Would you consider staying for the right offer?” George asked after a pause.

  Marcus looked interested at that, and leaned closer. “What do you mean?”

  “Tahn is growing, and I’ve clearly failed in my duty to protect it. You’ve got the population here to sustain the army you’ve set up—how would you feel about taking on the role of Captain?”

  “I’d… have to think about it,” Marcus stammered. The offer had clearly taken him by surprise. He and Julianne shared a tortured glance.

  “Of course, any of your people are welcome to stay with you. You’ll need to promote a first and second lieutenant, and choose a third person if you don’t intend to stay on.” George wiped his face with a napkin. “But if you do, the army is yours.”

  “It’s a generous offer,” Danil said politely. “Do you mind if I ask your plans for the rest of the town?”

  “Well, if your young apprentice is to have his way, I’ll need to make some!” George noted the confusion on Danil and Julianne’s faces. “Bastian told me about his idea for a school of magic, though he stressed he needed approval from his own leaders first.”

  “He doesn’t, really,” Julianne said, mind racing with the possibilities. She had spoken to Bastian about his plans, and said she would do what she could to support them once Tahn was safe. She hadn’t realized he had put this much thought into it, though.

  “Nothing can be done until you’re home safe,” Danil pointed out.

  His words cast a pall on the group as they came back down to reality. Long term dreams were one thing, but for the immediate future, they had a fight on their hands. And George knew his next demand wouldn’t go down favorably.

  “We can’t launch an attack until my daughter is safe,” George said.

  He was met with silence. Madam Seher glared at the others as if daring them to object. Marcus’s face fell, as he realized the implications, and Danil winced in commiseration with his friend.

  “He’s right,” Julianne finally said, heaving a sigh.

  “I am?” George asked in shock.

  “He is?” Danil echoed.

  “Adeline is too valuable, both as a person and as an asset,” Julianne explained. “If Rogan can exploit her as a hostage, he won’t hesitate.”

  “Muir needs her,” Madam Seher agreed.

  “Then I guess we'll just have to go get her,” Marcus said before looking around. “Where's dessert?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Julianne maneuvered her way into the hall and cursed as a length of fabric caught her shoe and almost sent her tumbling. A sense of déjà vu passed over her, and she called out for Tansy.

  “Didn't you say this pile of clothes was to be washed yesterday? Someone is going to break a leg in here.”

  “I washed it all. This is today's pile.”

  Deftly taking the tray off Julianne, Tansy held it aloft with one hand and made her way to the table. “Jakob! Food’s here!” Her bellow echoed in the hall, bringing a crowd of people who snatched up plates and napkins on their way.

  Marcus brought in a giant pot of boiled oats and Danil followed with two large jugs of milk. Behind them, Garrett pranced in holding a small bowl of brown sugar.

  “Quit yer bellyachin’, it wasn't that far!” the rearick teased.

  “You're not the one lugging in half a field of wet oats,” Marcus groaned. “How'd you get out of the hard work?”

  “Me stubby legs weren't long enough, and that pot would have buried me in the dirt,” he explained joyfully. “And me stubby wee hands couldn't hold the jugs. But mostly I was the only one Annie trusted with the most important part.”

  “Garrett, you're only six inches shorter than me,” Marcus said.

  “Well, maybe ye should remember that when yer puttin’ shite on me for bein’ short,” Garrett shot back.

  He carefully set the sugar on the table like it was a valuable jewel, then gave a bow. “At yer service, Miss Tansy.”

  Tansy bent down to kiss Garrett on the cheek, the action giving him a direct view down her tight top. “Pick your chin up off the floor, rearick,” she snapped. “Or I'll tell your girlfriend.”

  “Me what? I don't have a girlfriend.” He contemplated that a moment, then added, “Unless someone's been tellin’ ye different. Have they?”

  Tansy giggled at his hopeful look, and she shook her head. “Not a word. But if you want one, I'd suggest keeping your eyes to yourself.”

  “Aye, ye got a point, lass. And ye have my apologies if I offended ye.”

  “I make a living from men who want to look down my top, and I can't say I mind. Still, if you want to get anywhere with Bette…”

  Garrett jumped. “What? Who said that? I didn't say that!”

  “So... you don't?” Tansy teased.

  “I didn't say that either!” Garret coughed and tugged at his collar, unsure how the hole he was in kept getting deeper. “I'm gonna go, now.”

  “Goodbye, Garrett!” Tansy waved cheerily before dissolving into stitches.

  “Tansy, if you keep teasing him like that, he'll implode,” Julianne admonished.

  Tansy made a half-hearted attempt to control her giggles. “He makes it so easy, Julianne.”

  “I know.” Julianne allowed herself a smile.

  She as much as anyone wished that Garrett and Bette would hurry up and confess their feelings for each other. The two had danced around the issue since they had met, but Julianne wouldn’t force the issue. They would have to come to it in their own time.

  “So, what brings you down here to slum it with the kooks and the dancers, Jules?” Tansy asked casually.

  Julianne was no fool. Tansy knew something was up. “I’m planning a short trip,” she said in a low voice. “But I don’t want word to get out.”

  “Oh?” Tansy leaned closer. “What’s going on?”

  “Hunting expedition,” Julianne said, watching to see if Tansy would buy their cover story.

  If the New Dawn found out about a rescue attempt, Julianne was sure Adeline wouldn’t live to see the next day. They couldn’t be sure a cult member wasn’t lurking around outside the town, reading the minds of those they passed close enough to.

  “Ah. You don’t want a bunch of people tagging along?”

  Julianne nodded, seeing Tansy had guessed the excuse she had ready if needed. “Exa
ctly. We’ll take a nature mage and see if they can rustle us up a few meals. I’ll go in case we run into trouble. Do you think we could convince Jakob to come?”

  “Come on, let's ask him.” Tansy reached down to grab Julianne’s hand and pull her up. “He’s hiding over there in the corner.”

  As Julianne stood, she felt a spike of worry from Danil. She spotted Polly making an angry beeline for him.

  Sorry, I have work to do. That one’s all yours, she sent. Danil needed to work this out himself.

  I hate you, Danil replied before pasting a fake smile onto his face to greet Polly.

  The girl looked furious and Danil’s smile faltered as she stormed up and poked a finger in his chest.

  “Outside. Now,” she demanded before storming off again.

  As Danil hurried to catch up, he dipped into her mind and saw a memory of the night before. Polly had been heading over to apologise to him when she saw Julianne head inside. Staying in the shadows to wait until she had gone, Polly then saw the others arrive for their meeting.

  She was no fool, and had immediately realized they were planning something important.

  “Polly, we didn’t leave you out intentionally. It was just import—”

  “You read my mind?” she hissed, fury rising. “You filthy little scum sucker! I knew I couldn't trust you, but this really takes the cake!”

  “I… ahh, shit. Polly, I didn’t mean to.” Danil rubbed his hands over his face, glad for the cool morning breeze that fanned his skin.

  They were behind the barn at the back of the hall, probably to take advantage of the little bit of privacy the hidden corner offered. He wasn’t about to read Polly’s mind again to verify that theory, though.

  “You didn’t mean to disrespect my privacy? Abuse the power you have over everyone else? The people of Tahn look up to you, Danil, and I’m struggling to understand why.”

  Her words hit him like a slap in the face. “Polly, I’m sorry. Really, truly sorry. The villagers here know why I’m in their heads, and none of them have said a word about it. I’ve spent so long living in the Mystic Temple, dipping in and out of people’s heads, that sometimes I just forget it’s not polite.”