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Auguries of Dawn

Page 6

by Peyton Reynolds

Seventh-day, the day ruled by Destiny, began late for Oliveah. The night before had seen the staging of the annual Ardin’s Pride parade, a light-hearted but rowdy affair. She and Madi had not made it back to their inn until almost Fourth-hour, both collapsing into their beds exhausted and more than a little drunk. Now waking slowly, Oliveah vaguely recalled almost getting arrested by two Justice officers the night before, although the details of the encounter continued to elude her.

  Shrugging, she pushed aside her blankets and sat up, moaning at the pain in her head. Looking across to the adjacent bed, she saw Madi had already risen and departed—no doubt off to see to the appointments she had lined up for the morning. Oliveah herself had little to do this day; at Tenth-hour she had to meet with Reavis for a performance, but besides that she was free for the remainder of the day. Which gave her plenty of time to prepare for the arrival of her siblings, an event she was extremely excited about—although for more than just the obvious reasons.

  Suspecting she would not be back to her room before her performance, she dressed with some care, donning a lilac-colored dress accented with white satin trim. She left her light brown hair loose, but added a ribbon to keep the strands free from her face before judging herself visually acceptable.

  Once down in the common room, she made her first order of business locating the innkeeper and ensuring that the rooms she’d reserved for her family were indeed vacant and awaiting their arrival later that day. The price for this had been incredibly steep; the week of Ardin’s Pride was Tyrell’s busiest time of the year, after all, and generally the rule of thumb was first-come-first-serve. The innkeeper, however, had been secured with her silver, and he now reassured her that there would be no problems. Satisfied, she next headed into the dining area, harboring the hope that food would help calm her head and stomach. To her surprise, she found Madi there, seated alone at a small corner table.

  “I thought you’d already left,” Oliveah greeted her friend, taking the vacant seat across from her.

  The diviner was pale and delicately sipping from a cup of tea. Not generally one for drinking, she had far surpassed her limits the night before, a fact that was now rather evident.

  “I still have some time before my first appointment,” she replied. “I was hoping to clear my head some beforehand.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Oliveah wanted to know.

  “I tried. You sleep like a rock.”

  They ordered honeyed porridge and ate tentatively. Confident after the first few bites that her meal was going to stay down, Oliveah asked the diviner if she recalled what they’d done to almost get themselves arrested the night before.

  Madi looked at her, alarmed. “What is this? I remember nothing of trouble.”

  Seeing her friend’s distress, Oliveah affected a casual air. “I’m certain it was nothing,” she said, waving a hand. Madi continued to look worried, however, and so she hurried on. “Will you be free to join my family and I for supper tonight?”

  Madi nodded. “I intend to try. When are you meeting them?”

  “In case I don’t make it back here in time to escort them, I instructed my sister to be at The Yellow Orchid at Twelfth-hour.”

  “I may be a few minutes late, but I will definitely be there,” Madi vowed, taking a minuscule bite of her porridge. She then sent a sly glance to her friend. “Do you know yet which of them will come?”

  Oliveah immediately felt herself beginning to redden. Madi was no longer speaking of her siblings, but of the escort they were certain to arrive with. No doubt her father would not entrust the safety of his two youngest children to any but his best man, and so it was therefore a surety that either Taleb or Nathon would be bringing her sister and brother into Tyrell this day.

  Oliveah finally shrugged. “It could be either,” she finally replied. She’d be in love with both of them since she’d been a maid of fourteen. But now, their ten years of service to the Oslund family was nearly fulfilled, both men now less than a season away from being granted their freedom. Oliveah knew she had some tough decisions ahead—and was hoping Madi’s skills as a diviner would help ease them.

  Madi was well informed as to the circumstances, including Oliveah’s wish for guidance. “It should not matter which of them comes. If the Patrons are generous I will see your path, one way or the other.”

  Oliveah nodded silently. This closure had been a long time in coming, and was something she both longed for and dreaded. But the time had come for Destiny to make her way clear, and she had every confidence in whatever verdict Madi was sure to give her.

  With her porridge only half-eaten, the diviner pushed to her feet, still looking slightly ill. “I’d best depart if I wish to make my first appointment,” she said.

  Oliveah nodded. “Until this evening, then.”

  She finished the remainder of her meal in silence, and, feeling much renewed by the food although still suffering some head pain, left the inn not long after Madi. She still had two hours before having to appear for her performance, but figured she might do best at tracking Reavis down now. He’d been with them the night before, and could no doubt tell her just what sorts of trouble they’d gotten into. Despite the nonchalance she’d displayed to Madi, she was actually somewhat concerned by the matter; the last thing any of their reputations needed was Justice trouble. She hoped no warrants had been issued, and kept a paranoid eye about for officers as she made her way up the street.

  Reavis had already departed from the inn where he was staying, but she tracked him down a short while later after making some inquiries to mutual acquaintances. As reported, he was currently seated upon the lawns of the Performance Circle, watching a play. Unable to get to him in the crowd without causing a disturbance, she waited several minutes before managing to catch his eye and then waved him over.

  Watching his approach, she was instantly annoyed to see that he looked none the worse for wear, a gleam in his eye and bounce in his step as he strolled to meet her.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he greeted, stopping smoothly before her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him warningly. “I’m not in the mood, Reavis. What happened last night?”

  His grin widened. “You mean with the Justice officers?”

  Oliveah swallowed nervously at seeing that grin. It all but confirmed to her that matters were somewhat more serious than she’d been hoping.

  “I recall little,” she confessed, staring at him worriedly.

  He looked at her for a moment before responding.

  “You’re not in any trouble, Oliveah, but you may want to give a warning to Madi, if she remembers no more than you.”

  Her eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “I was escorting the two of you back to your inn after the parade,” he began, “when a passing Justice officer made the apparent error of springing out of Madi’s path while saying “A thousand pardons, Lady Savannon.” For some reason this appeared to offend her, and she began yelling at him as well as pelting him with street rubbish. I was rather impressed with her aim—she struck him square in the face with a half-eaten apple.”

  Oliveah winced. She knew Madi detested being given such courtesies simply because of her family name, a line well-known for its generous donations to the Legion of Justice, but she must have been very intoxicated indeed to have reacted in such a fashion.

  “What happened?” she sighed.

  “We ran,” Reavis told her, shrugging. “The officer pursued, and another took up the chase with him, but we lost them in the crowd.”

  Oliveah was horrified at the fact that she recalled almost nothing of this. She silently vowed then and there to never again drink to excess. She was also now extremely concerned for Madi.

  “What do you think they’ll do?” she asked him, shifting her stance uncomfortably.

  Reavis glanced away, pondering. “Well, under normal circumstances, I would say no Justice officer would be stupid enough to
go after a Savannon over a matter as trifling as some thrown trash. Unfortunately for Madi, however, there were scores of witnesses, and I imagine the officer in question is taking his humiliation into account. Not to mention the fact that the entire Legion seems to be cracking down on even the lesser crimes this year. Why, just yesterday I saw them actually arrest a couple of tavern brawlers—now how ridiculous is that?”

  Oliveah sighed again. “Bottom line?”

  “I’d say she has half a chance of escaping this without punishment. But if they decide to pursue, she won’t be hard to find.”

  Oliveah blew out a long breath. “We’ll have to warn her immediately.”

  Reavis glanced upward at the sun. “We’d be cutting it pretty close.”

  Frowning, she realized he was right. The Savannon shop where Madi conducted her readings was several blocks away, and with the streets as crowded as they were, it was questionable whether they could get there, impart their warning, and then make it all the way across the city with enough time to make their performance. Oliveah bit her lower lip pensively.

  “Hire one of the urchins to take her a message,” Reavis suggested.

  Oliveah nodded at him, liking the idea. Every major city of Dhanen’Mar had its population of orphans living upon its streets, and Tyrell was no exception. In fact, from what she’d seen these past several days, it seemed running messages was how many of these children earned their daily bread. It seemed the perfect solution.

  She hurried from the lawns of the Circle with Reavis on her heels, mentally trying to determine how Madi was likely to react to this. She decided horror was the most reasonable guess as she spied a group of street children upon the next adjacent corner. Their ages looked to be between eight and twelve years, which made them all eligible for the slave markets if they happened to be caught, but clearly the local Justice officers had more pressing matters to deal with this week.

  One of the older boys now looked to be conducting just the sort of business she was in need of, taking a small scroll from a young man marked as a slave and tucking it into his waistband. His customer handed him a coin and then promptly vanished into the crowd. Oliveah quickened her pace toward him.

  “I need a message taken to The Seeing Eye immediately,” she said, halting before the boy.

  He appraised her quickly. “Immediately, you say?” he replied. “Three coppers, then.”

  The price was outrageous but she was in no mood to argue. “I also need parchment,” she said.

  The boy produced a thin scroll but then paused before handing it over, clearly debating if he should risk requesting a higher payment for this extra service. After a glance at Reavis, now standing behind her, he apparently thought it best not to push his luck and tossed her the scroll wordlessly.

  “The Seeing Eye, you know it?” she went on, accepting a charcoal drawing pencil from Reavis. He often carried them, for he would occasionally get an urge to sketch. His talent for drawing nowhere near matched what he possessed for singing, but he was a fair enough artist and did sell most of his work.

  “I know it,” the boy said back to her now. “That is the Savannon shop.”

  Oliveah nodded, satisfied. She paused in thought for a moment, and then began a hurried scrawl across the parchment, explaining to Madi the circumstances of the night before.

  “This is to be put into the hand of Madilaine Savannon and no other,” she warned the boy once she’d finished and tightly re-rolled the scroll.

  “Madilaine Savannon,” he repeated with a nod, taking the scroll and tucking it into his waistband next to the one given him by the slave.

  Oliveah withheld a frown as she then paid him. She refrained from commenting by reminding herself that her payment would ensure that the boy had means to feed himself for the next few days.

  “With luck our message will arrive before any trouble has the chance to occur,” she fretted, watching as the boy started off down the street.

  “If there is any trouble,” Reavis replied, starting off in the opposite direction.

  Oliveah followed after him, brow furrowed. “I thought you believed it possible there would be.”

  He shrugged. “Yes, but the more I think on it, the less convinced I am that the Legion will be stupid enough to challenge the Savannons over something as trivial as this.”

  Oliveah wasn’t certain what to think. She also found it ironic that the cause of Madi’s behavior would perhaps be the very thing that would allow her to escape punishment.

  She and Reavis spent the next half-hour fighting the crowds to get to the north side of the city. This was an affluent, residential section of Tyrell, and for this reason the crowd thinned considerably as they closed in upon their destination.

  Reif Manor was only one of the properties held by this family line, and among one of the largest in all the city. The Reif family, while keepers of a high noble standing, were typically not held in the highest of favor due to the unfortunate legacy of their lineage. Nearly half of all Reifs were born upon a Fifteenth-day, a day belonging to Cristiana, the Patron of Death. A fair amount of the others were born to Healing, the line’s only saving grace as far as the rest of the country seemed concerned.

  Lord Guerin Reif, patriarch to the southern sect of the family, had made the arrangements with their troupe leader, Moriss Tipley, some time ago for Oliveah and Reavis to perform privately at his home this day. Such a request was not unusual in and of itself, but due to the foreboding reputation of the Reif family, Moriss had sought agreement from both his performers before agreeing.

  Reavis had offered no objection, stating that, so far as he was concerned, the Reif’s money was as good as anyone else’s. Oliveah’s reply had been somewhat more pointed, for the Oslunds were in fact very friendly with the Reifs; her father thought the prejudice against them ridiculous and Oliveah agreed. She had been rather candid with her opinion of this, but Moriss has remained unperturbed by her vehemence, just happy to contract the two out for what would prove to be a very costly private appearance.

  Oliveah now quickly finished the giant pickle she’d bought from a street vendor several blocks past as she and Reavis approached Reif Manor. Lord Guerin himself greeted them at the door with a smile and a brief embrace for Oliveah.

  “It has been too long, my dear,” he said, releasing her and stepping back. “How is your lord father?”

  “He is well,” she answered, returning his smile. “I am pleased to see you are the same.” Due to her travels, it had been several years since she’d last lain eyes upon this man, but knew he and her father got together several times a year to share conversation and a meal.

  Lord Guerin led them through an expansive hall, its floor tiled a shiny black, and into a grand chamber. There was no stage, but to the forefront of the room the area was cleared, with Oliveah’s harp, sent over that morning by Moriss, tuned and awaiting her touch.

  “Approximately thirty members of my family have gathered here for the festival this year, and I thought to give them a private performance,” Lord Guerin explained, stopping next to one of the many couches set about the room. “You need only to play for an hour or so, and then you are both more than welcome to join us for supper. I trust you both favor roast duck? ”

  Oliveah’s smile fell at the invitation. “Upon any other day your offer would be most welcome, but Navalee and Deakin are due to arrive very shortly and I fear we have already made arrangements for supper.” She was genuinely disappointed; spending time with the Reifs was always enjoyable.

  Lord Guerin’s smile at her words, however, had only grown wider. “Can these arrangements not be broken?” he asked her. “It would please me greatly to play host to all three Oslund children.”

  Oliveah considered. The Yellow Orchid would likely fine her for breaking her reservation, but it would be worth the price, she decided.

  “That sounds wonderful, so long as you can send a runner to our inn with instructions f
or them to meet me here instead,” she replied.

  “Splendid!” Lord Guerin said, slapping his hands together as he turned to Reavis. “And what of you, young man?”

  Reavis shrugged. “It would take a far bigger fool than I to turn down a meal of roast duck,” he said.

  Lord Guerin laughed and spun. “Excellent. Now come,” he urged, turning to lead them from the room. “Let me introduce you to my clan before you begin your preparations. Oliveah, you will encounter some familiar faces amongst them.”

  She smiled as she followed after him, now looking forward to the evening more than ever. It would be interesting to see where the night led, for any such shift of circumstances occurring upon a Seventh-day—the day ruled by Destiny—were unquestionably for good reason. Content to leave the reins in Destiny’s hands, she stepped after Reavis as Lord Guerin led them deeper into the manor.

  Chapter 6

 

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