Marcus’s jaw dropped. “He asked Bette to wash his clothes?”
“I had to intervene before she killed him. I damn near left it too late; she had his head in the water trough when I got down there.”
Marcus shuddered. “Bitch’s oath, what was the idiot thinking?”
Julianne shrugged. “He’s all over the place with Bette. I’m glad they fought last night—it’ll give them both a fresh start and maybe let Garrett work out his feelings for her.”
“So, he does have them?” Danil had told him about the events leading up to Garrett’s challenge.
Julianne shrugged, not willing to give away too many details of another person’s private thoughts. “The whole town can see how he dotes on her, at least when he’s not acting like a dipshit. The rearick are very traditional when it comes to courting.”
“And Bette breaks tradition,” Marcus finished. “So, Garrett doesn’t know how to move forward.”
“Not without getting his balls cut off,” Julianne agreed. “If they can work it out, they’ll be setting new traditions, changing the status quo of a whole community.”
“Could make for some big changes.” Marcus reached back into one of his bags and pulled out a bright, red apple. He tossed it to Julianne, who caught it easily. She sank her teeth into it and closed her eyes, savoring the taste. “A bit like when you took the throne at the Temple, I’d guess.”
Julianne finished chewing, then swallowed the food. “An expert on mystic culture now, are we?”
“No, but I’ve seen how you react when people make assumptions about you. Especially the ones based on you being a woman. That doesn’t happen without a fight or two over it in your past.”
“It wasn’t anything so dramatic,” she said. “I mean, we don’t have secret prejudices back at the Temple. We can’t. And we don’t harbor assumptions based on silly things like gender, because we can see perfectly well how kind, or smart, or greedy a person is.”
“So, no one batted an eye when Selah chose you?”
Julianne paused. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But most of the judgement came from outside. Adrien, not that I gave a camel’s shit what he thought; the rearick didn’t want to deal with me at first. And I knew my people supported Selah’s choice, even though they thought a man might hold up better in the long run.”
“That must have stung,” Marcus said. He pulled out another apple and broke off a chunk with his teeth. It crunched loudly, and he wiped the juice from his chin.
Julianne shrugged. “It is what it is. It didn’t take long before my own people, at least, accepted me as their leader.”
“And a damn fine one you are, too.” Marcus leaned down, letting Julianne’s horse steal the apple core from his fingers. Then, he kicked his horse a bit faster. “Come on. Let’s get this trip over and done with. We haven’t even been gone a day, and I already miss Annie’s hot breakfasts.”
Chapter Nineteen
Danil stepped onto the porch as the crowd on Annie’s front lawn muttered and grumbled.
“Ho, neighbors!” They quieted and looked up, waiting to hear the mystic’s explanation. “I know you’ve heard rumblings and they’re true, for the most part. Yes, we’ve been threatened. Some dickbag from the next town over came looking for some taxes.”
“Old George ain’t done a damn thing to deserve ‘em!” Someone called out.
Danil nodded in agreement. “That’s true. Julianne has gone to settle it with Old George—it was the younger one that came busting in with a stick up his ass, but she thinks his father might have a bit more sense and compassion.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Jarv asked from up in the front.
“That’s why I called you all here. Training will increase. We think George, either junior or senior or maybe both, has a few of those muckers on the payroll. We need to be prepared. Training schedules are on the wall, so read them before you go. If you’re not learning, go practice, or help Francis build that damned fence.”
Danil had already heard tales about the fence Francis had already begun to erect. In the few hours since daylight, it seemed he had made incredible progress, though Danil only had excited impressions to judge by.
“How long until that little pig-fucker comes back for his money?” Tessa asked.
Danil almost stumbled back. Whenever he had spoken to her, she had acted the lady, wailing at her husband whenever he let a curse word slip. Now, though, she looked ready for battle. Her eyes blazed with fury.
“Is it true he wanted women and girls?" she demanded.
Suddenly her rage made sense. “Do you really think we’d let that happen?” Danil asked. He sent a wave of reassurance towards her, but she only bristled more.
“Stop with the feel-good bullshit, mystic. Is my daughter in danger if she stays?”
Danil looked her in the eyes. He couldn’t see, she knew that, but the gesture still mattered to him. “Tessa, I swear on my life—I will not let a single woman or child in this town get hurt. He will not take you, or your daughter. You’re all safer here, under our protection.”
He watched his own face through Tessa’s eyes. He saw the ferociousness he felt in his breast reflected in the set of his jaw and the flare of his nostrils. He meant it. He would give his life for these people.
Tessa watched, judging his words. Then, she nodded. “Then tell us what to do.”
Danil smiled. “There will be no cap on class numbers for the next few days. If you have talent, please, help with the teaching. Our first priority is to get everyone shielded. The second is to hone any innate magic that can be used in battle.”
“Aye, just set Francis on ‘em! He’ll toast the bastards!” Mack laughed at his own joke.
“The able bodied should also see Garrett and Bette. They’ll teach you to wield a weapon without cutting off your arm.”
“What weapons?” Mack asked. “We’re already doubling up in training.”
“Ye pile of bloody wringers,” Bette snapped. “Yer telling me a town full of bloody farmers can’t come up with a pile of blunt sticks ta bash heads with?”
“Ye don’t need a fancy point on the end of a weapon,” Garrett added. “Just a bit of weight and a lotta balls.”
Bette jabbed an elbow in his side. “Or a tough pussy! Ye ever seen a wee babe come to the world, ye know those things can take a beating!”
A smatter of laughter ran through the crowd as Bette rolled her eyes. “What my good friend is tryin’ ta say is that anything can be a weapon. Bring what ye got to the trainin’, and we’ll show ye how ta make do.”
“And don’t pike out on the weapons classes just because yer a woman,” Garrett yelled. “Sharne is the best bloody fighter in Marcus’s troop. We need some bloody skirts in there to show these men how it’s done!”
Bette looked at Garrett in surprise. Grinning, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Keep that up and ye might have to start lockin’ yer door at night if ye don’t want ta be interrupted.”
Garrett blushed, paled, and blushed again. “But… but I don’t have a door. We sleep in the stables.”
“I know,” she purred. Bette turned on one foot and marched away, leaving Garrett dumbstruck and frozen in place.
After a minute, Danil nudged him. “You done?" he murmured.
Garrett nodded. For some reason, his mouth wasn’t working. Danil herded him off the porch and dismissed the villagers, who mingled around the lists he had posted with guard rosters, mental magic classes and fight practice.
“What happened?” Danil asked, itching to just delve into the rearick’s head and see the answer for himself. He was mindful of his promise, though.
“I think… I think Bette just flirted with me.”
Danil’s eyes widened and he backed away, hands raised defensively. “Oh, no. No. I am NOT getting involved in that again.” Tripping over his feet, he bolted away before Garrett could say anything else.
Chapter Twenty
“Artemis, we need you.�
� Bastian sidestepped into the doorway, blocking the old man’s attempt at scurrying away. “We just don’t have enough people to train the whole damn village.”
“I told you, I don’t like people!” Artemis snapped.
“What’ll it take?” Bastian folded his arms and glared down at Artemis. With a start, Bastian realized he was taller than him. He was sure that wasn’t the case when they had first met a few short months ago.
Artemis shook his fist. “You have nothing I want!”
“Oh, no?” Bastian raised an eyebrow. “I’m a mystic. One with the ear of the Master. In fact, she’s already agreed to help me with a little project I think you’ll find quite interesting.” Ok, Bastian admitted to himself, safe behind a mental shield. She said she’d think about it. Close enough, right?
Artemis narrowed his eyes. “What kind of project.”
“Oh, nothing exciting. Just a multi-modality school. Here. In Tahn.”
Artemis froze. “Here?" he whispered.
“Of course, it’ll take a lot to set up. We’ll need loads of the regular teaching books, but also some of the more obscure scrolls and histories. I mean, we’ll be breaking new ground here.”
“The histories? Of the other magics?” Artemis’s eyes were like saucers, shining in excitement.
“Of course, access to those records will be highly restricted.” Bastian shook his head regretfully. “They simply wouldn’t be shared with just anyone. Only a trained mystic who’d sacrificed themselves for the greater—”
“I’ll do it!” Artemis threw his hands up in defeat. “I’ll take all the bloody classes! Just promise me, you’ll give me access to everything. And there won’t be any more strings! I’m not letting you round me up as some kind of overrated babysitter for this play center you’re starting up.”
Bastian laughed at his fierce scowl. “Honestly? I don’t think we’d put the students through that.”
Artemis scowled even harder. “I’m the best teacher they’d get, short of the bloody Founder.”
“Do we have a deal? Your help now, for access to the school library on an ongoing basis, if and when we get it set up.” Bastian held his breath, hoping Artemis didn’t catch the ‘if’ clause.
“Fine, fine. And I suppose you’ll be skipping your own sessions with me?”
“Unless you can show me how to teach a physical user.” Bastian turned to go, then whirled back as Artemis clicked his tongue. He only did that when he was thinking, hard. “Wait… can you?”
“It’s all theory, mind,” Artemis said. “And I won’t take the students on myself. I can give you some pointers, though.”
Bastian cried out in glee, then jerked the older man into a rough hug. “Artemis, you’re the best damn asshole I’ve ever met.”
He stayed in the stables that Artemis had made his home for another twenty minutes, hashing out the details of Artemis’s new classes, and getting a basic rundown on the magic types and how they were used.
“Right. And you’re sure you can’t show me the hand gestures?” Bastian asked when they were done.
“Did you listen at all? The gestures are unique to the magic user. Physical mages just flop their hands about, the same way we garble gibberish when we cast.” Artemis waved him off. “Go away. I want at least five minutes of peace before I wade into this shit hole of a job you’ve given to me.”
Bastian chuckled as he left. The old man was getting grumpier by the day, and yet he refused to leave. Everyone in the damn town knew it was because he was worried about them. His tough, bristly exterior seemed to prickle most at the people he respected, or cared for most.
Julianne was the only one who seemed able to tolerate him most days, and even she had her limits.
Swinging a leg over his horse, Bastian wondered if he should wait until Artemis actually showed up at the pending class. Then, he shrugged. Artemis knew the stakes.
Bastian had no doubt he would have let himself be talked into it eventually, but the young mystic had an ulterior motive. He did want Artemis to form a part of the new school, if he could convince Julianne to let him help set it up.
He squashed down the fear that his idea would be taken away from him. He knew Julianne wouldn't do that. She encouraged ownership of ideas, and he knew he was technically qualified to do pretty much anything he wanted as a mystic, now that his own training was over and he had gone on his pilgrimage.
More and more, he thought of Tahn as his home. As he travelled through the city towards the gate, he was filled with pride at how far the people had come in the past weeks. They repaired months of damage to buildings and farms, and had bonded together, helping each other heal after such loss.
His heart swelled further when he saw the wall. The stark white barrier reached high enough to slow anyone, but a physical Mage who had the power to propel themselves over it with magic.
Along the top, metal plates attached coils of barbed wire. Bastian squinted and made out thin spikes pointing up beneath the wire. Anyone who made it to the top of that wall would be in for a painful surprise.
Bastian cupped his hands to his mouth and took a deep breath. “Francis?”
“North end!” A man called back, pointing to the left.
Bastian tugged on one rein and turned his horse that way, heading down to a cluster of people and… “What in the frozen hells of the Bastard’s grave is that?”
The ‘that’ he referred to was a bear. As Bastian watched, it rose on two feet to grasp a dangling rope in its mouth. Then it fell back to all fours and ambled backwards.
As the bear pulled at the rope, a huge, white, wall partition slowly lifted. Men stood on either side, guiding it into place. Within minutes, the defensive wall around the village had even extended by several feet.
“Lilly?” Bastian called, spotting the young girl watching the display.
She waved at him distractedly, not taking her eyes off the hanging wall section. “Let it go, Snuffy.”
The hollow thud reverberated through the dirt below Bastian’s feet as the wall slotted in, falling to the ground. The men stepped back and one leaned forwards to give it a tentative shove.
“All good, Francis. You ready for another?”
“Snuffy wants to eat, first. And he'd like to roll around in the sun. It’s such a lovely day.” Lilly rubbed the bear’s head.
“Of course, Lilly. Tell Snuffy he has our thanks.” Francis stepped out from the small circle of men warily watching the bear.
“He knows,” she said. “He can smell it on you.”
Francis turned his head, giving one armpit a reflexive sniff. He wrinkled his nose, then shrugged. “You’ve spoken to the wolf pack? You’re sure they’ll dig for us tonight?”
Lilly nodded. “Just don’t forget to leave out the meat. They’ll have to take time away from the hunt, and they'll starve over winter if they don’t get enough to eat.”
“Lilly, if they can do this for us, I’ll give them a whole buck every week until snowfall.”
Lilly threw her arms around him and he rocked back, unbalanced. “Thank you, Francis!” She ran off to hurry Snuffy away from the wall.
Francis caught sight of Bastian and wandered over, shaking his head. “Can’t say as I expected to have a beast and a little guild on my construction team, but I can’t say as I’m complaining, either.”
“Are you sure feeding wolves is the best idea?” Bastian asked. “I know Lilly cares for them, and she can control them to a degree, but if their population increases…” he let the statement hang.
Francis shrugged. “We’ve always had a great many in the forest around Tahn. Used to lose so many lambs we were ready to give up. Too scared to let the kiddies play outside, too.”
“And then?” Bastian sensed a story.
“Well, Lilly came along. Kept getting a thrashing for sneaking out to the woods. She said the animals wouldn’t touch her, but we didn't really understand then. Her pa took her to see the mangled corpse of a lamb they’d attacked that
morning. It got tangled in a fence and they couldn't drag the body off.”
“That’s a bit… much. How old was she?” Bastian asked.
Francis wiggled his fingers, counting. “Five, by my guess. She was hysterical. Bit her Pa on the hand and when he let go, she bolted like a scared horse. Came back three days later, covered in dirt, lost her shoes, but happier than I’ve seen her. Never saw a wolf or lost an animal since.”
Bastian reeled at the thought. “Five years old and she spent three nights in a forest full of wolves? Her parents must have been beside themselves.”
Francis glowered. “Let’s not touch on that. Don’t like speaking ill of the dead.”
Bastian nodded in understanding. He had heard Lilly’s parents described as ‘odd’, but not in a way that suggested fondness. “Well, I’m glad Lilly’s safe now… but I need to steal you away, my friend.”
“I have a job set by the Master herself.” He darted a glance back at his wall, pride etched on his face.
Bastian nodded. “I know, and I won’t keep you too long. But if we can harness that power you’ve got, it could be invaluable in battle.”
Francis chewed his lip as he thought it over. Then, he nodded. “Fair enough. I want to help in any way I can.”
He turned back to direct the men he had been working with to take a break. “We’ll start again at three,” he instructed.
Bastian took Francis to a yard behind the town hall. An old shed stacked with hay bales made a wind break, and Bastian shrugged off his robe in the heat. He dropped it on a pile of loose straw, then gently stretched out his muscles.
He rode almost daily now, a requirement to get around the sprawling village. That didn’t mean his muscles had learned to appreciate it yet.
“So, do I need to do the meditating thing again?” Francis asked dubiously. So far, he had only managed to conjure a small flame and only once.
“Do you remember what happened just before you made the fire last time?” Bastian asked.
Francis shrugged. “I was trying not to think about it. Didn't want to burn Ma’s house down while I was sleeping.”
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