Authors: Robin D. Owens
Mace grunted. "The Summoning wasn't easy. Who knew how many
of us would die in the attempt?"
Urvey's eyes rounded. He gulped.
"Someone died during the Summoning?" Bastien blinked.
"Not exactly." Mace stared at Bastien. "Defau
Disparu let his passions get the best of him while he was in a fight."
Bastien knew the sentence was directed as a reminder to him.
"Disparu attacked the Exotique."
Urvey gasped. "Attacked our savior!"
Mace ran an eye up and down the boy. "That's right. He died.
She has much Power, that one."
An atonal chant drifted from a low Tower window. Mace shifted his
feet, looked up. "Swordmarshall Albertus and his wife and Shield used the
jerir. She was weak to begin with, but she insisted on accompanying her Sword.
She barely lives. If she can survive the shock of the next few hours, her
health will be much improved. She's a wily Shield, we'd hate to lose her."
"Two Pair," Bastien murmured. From only six Marshall
Pairs, it was a cause for concern—for them. "You wouldn't be at such a
pass if you'd opened your ranks much earlier, as the Chevaliers advised. Too
many of you wanted to keep your status and Power to a small group."
Bastien jutted his chin.
Mace eyed him, but said nothing in defense. He shrugged.
"That's past. No reason to ask why you are here. It's my watch to verify
any who wish to use the pool of protection. Not that anyone has taken us up on
our offer."
"I'm here!" Urvey said.
"So you are, boy. You want to dunk?"
"Yes, My Lord Marshall."
"Luthan's meeting with town guild members tonight. Tomorrow
you should have some Chevaliers and townies," Bastien said.
"Good," Mace said. He cast a glance at Bastien then one
at the window streaming yellow light where the chant was coming from. "You
vouch for this lad, Bastien?"
"I'm his squire!" Urvey announced.
Bastien grimaced but didn't deny it.
"Huh," Mace said. "It's about time you showed a
little ambition and responsibility, Bastien." He nodded shortly.
"Good thing you took on a squire. Looks like he'll need some training—that
will be good for the both of you. Staunch lad, to brave the jerir."
Urvey's thin chest expanded with the compliment. Bastien knew
there'd be no dissuading him from the pool now.
Lifting a lantern, Mace scrutinized Bastien. "Stupid-looking
hat."
"Soul-sucker hide." Bastien tilted his head so Mace
could get a better look.
Mace grunted. "Seems like the soul-sucker laid a couple of
tentacles on you, too." He gazed at Bastien's scratched hands.
"Huh," he said again, still studying Bastien. "You appear a bit
peaked— might want to delay your dipping in the jerir."
Angling his chin, Bastien said, "No." He grinned.
"A dive and glide, said Luthan."
"That boy always understates the matter. It's a hell of a lot
more. It's bad, especially if you have any aches or pains, any wounds or
injuries. What's with you, boy?" Mace narrowed his eyes at Urvey.
"You fit?"
"I have a coupla scratches. A flea bite or two. Maybe a
bruise from a horse that butted me day before last."
"You'll do," Mace said. He stared at Bastien. "If
you have any injuries that aren't showing, you better not try the pool of
protection. Wait a day or two. I'd hate to haul you up to that sickroom
too." He waved to the Tower window.
Bastien winced inwardly, thinking of the puncture, the rips, the
sucker rounds... Ignoring the pain, he shrugged and grinned, tilted his hat to
an even more rakish angle. "I can do it."
"You always had more mettle than sense. Your squire will
watch out for you. Boy!" Mace called Urvey's wandering attention back to
them. "You got any questions?"
Urvey gulped. His eyes gleamed. "I heard we get a meal—a
feast afterward."
"That's right."
The chant faltered. Mace frowned, then nodded in the direction of
the Temple. "I trust you, Bastien. Go take your swim and watch the boy. I
need to get back to the healing."
"Fine," Bastien said.
With one last nod, Mace hurried up the right path to the Tower.
Urvey started after him, until Bastien halted him with a tug on his sleeve.
"To the left for the shortest route to the Temple."
Urvey grinned but it looked more like the rictus of fear and
anticipation than cheer. "A coupla Marshalls were down at the Nom de Norn
for a short noonday meal and I saw them. They looked wrung. Musta taken the
dip, I guess."
"Probably." Bastien recalled the pallor under Luthan's
skin. He set his shoulders. It couldn't be
that
bad, could it? A whisper
of the healing chant touched the nape of his neck and slithered down his spine
like fear. He was pretty battered, but he was in fine health, strong, and had
more stamina than was apparent. And he was a black-and-white; he had wild magic
too. Usually under control.
Their boot-steps echoed hollowly before and behind them as they
strode along the cobblestone path close to the buildings, passing the nobles
lodgings and walking around the bulge of the Temple.
Urvey shivered. "I've never been up here in Temple
Ward."
Bastien grunted.
The boy craned his neck, trying to see everything. "It's
wonderful."
"It's a Castle bailey," Bastien said, but the large,
round Temple, white stone instead of gray, loomed before them. He looked at it
with new eyes—the building did seem to pulse with magic.
Finally they reached the great, pointed oaken door and Bastien
swung it open. "After you," he said.
In an alcove separated from the main Temple by a carved wooden
screen, Bastien and Urvey bathed. The usual cleansing pool was the one now
filled with jerir.
Urvey wrapped a towel around boney hips as Bastien donned a robe.
He'd convinced Urvey to dip first. Bastien wanted to have all his current
strength to pull the youth from the pool, if necessary.
Without his baggy garments, the teen was even skinnier. Bastien
surveyed him, noting a few minor scratches and the bruise the boy had spoken
of. Urvey flushed a little.
"Just seeing how badly you might be hurt," Bastien said.
A quick grin flashed from the boy. He straightened. "I'm well
enough."
"Looks like you could use the feast they promised us,
though," Bastien said.
Urvey's grin widened. "I can always eat."
Bastien believed that.
They walked from the seat-ledge that held their clothes, to the
pool. Bastien kept to deep shadows so Urvey couldn't see the extent of his
wounds.
The jerir looked thick and dark blue, nearly filling the pool
three man-lengths long and one wide. Bastien's stomach tightened at the sight
of the still, viscous liquid and the thought of the pain that would come.
"Looks nasty." Urvey's voice sounded high.
"No, it looks beautiful." Bastien's voice was a lower
rasp than usual. He didn't clear his throat. "A very beautiful blue. As
blue as a fine sapphire. It's only the thought of the pain it can cause that
makes you think it's nasty."
Urvey shot him a nervous glance. His black brows shot upward.
"But where you hurt, it starts to heal faster, and better
than before. You're stronger than before, right?" He gazed down at both
knees, which were shadowed with bruises Bastien hadn't noticed.
"That's what they say. I don't trust some of the old legends
like the Marshalls do—"
"But they Summoned an Exotique!" Urvey said with awe.
Bastien had to nod. "They did. And I've never known
Swordmarshall Mace to lie."
"Why should he? He's so big he can say whatever he
likes."
Chuckling, Bastien said, "Very true. Do you swim, boy?"
Urvey looked horrified. "Swim? No."
Bastien led the youth to a corner. "There are steps into the pool
here."
"Oh. I thought I'd just, um, jump in and pop out. I can do
that in the water hole at the edge of town."
"Fine." Bastien surveyed the pool and walked to the
middle of one long edge. "If I recall right, this should be about your
height. Make sure you go all the way under."
Urvey gulped, sucked in a big breath. Then he glanced at Bastien,
and down at the pool. Urvey's muscles tensed. He jumped.
His cut-off scream bounced off the circular stone walls and
echoed. He popped up, screaming again.
Bastien reached into the jerir pool and helped Urvey out. Just the
immersion of his forearm in the liquid made him bite the inside of his cheek
with pain. How was he going to manage this?
But he had to. His pride was on the line. Every Chevalier at the
Nom de Nom knew he'd intended to immerse himself in the jerir. Urvey looked up
at him with pained and admiring eyes as Bastien helped him dry off and dress.
Not to mention that if Luthan could do it, Bastien could, and
would,
do it too. His mouth thinned. There was a different aura about those who
had bathed in the jerir than about those who
hadn't. Even
now Urvey was showing the underlying glow of the experience. There was no way
Bastien could simply lie.
He eyed the pool. It was going to be bad. Worse perhaps than even
his last fight. Only fancy footwork and fast reflexes had saved him. And he
didn't have his volaran to help him this time. He'd have to trust his wild
magic.
"Shall I stay?" asked Urvey, looking longingly at the
door, probably thinking of the good meal they'd been promised. Trust a growing
boy to think of his stomach, even after such an ordeal!
Bastien said, "No, of course not. Go get some food and drink
for us." He waved a hand at the door.
Urvey's brows came down. "Are you sure?" He opened his
mouth as if to offer help, then shut it. They both knew about manly pride.
"I'm sure." Bastien grinned. Nothing to do now but to
laugh at the situation he'd gotten himself into. "Go. Get some meat and
mead. Take your time—" Bastien winked "—I may want to soak a
little."
That reassured the boy. He laughed. "Fine. I'll get us
a
lot
of good food and mead." He rubbed his stomach. He looked around
and dropped his voice. "Can we eat in here?"
"Of course." Bastien made a wide gesture with his arm.
"This is the Temple. A Temple is for all the rituals of people. Including
breaking bread." He winked again. "Including sex."
Urvey flushed, dropped his eyes. "I'm a womanlover."
Bastien clapped a hand on Urvey's shoulder. "I am, too. We
can eat here—there's a dining table over there." He waved to a darkened
quadrant. "And you recall that behind the fancy screen is another bathing
pool and a toilet. The pool with jerir is usually filled with water to bathe
in, you know."
Urvey just stared. "No, I don't, Lord.
You
know. I can
only guess."
"And learn," Bastien said gently. "You can
learn."
Urvey brightened. "I can do that. And I know how to assemble
a feast for us!"
He took off for the door while Bastien stared at the pool near his
blistered feet.
Urvey hesitated by the door. "You
are
sure—"
"Go!" He didn't want the boy to hear him scream.
The door closed and Bastien rubbed his face. "Great, just
great. What did you get me into this time, brother?" He swore under his
breath. "What did my own stupidity and pride get me into? I damn well
should wait." He should. But it was quiet and soothing here in the Temple.
Surely he could manage a quick dunk—a hop in and dive through and hop out. That
should be sufficient. But by the Song, he didn't want to dip in the jerir! He
actually dreaded the idea.
Nothing for it. He'd manage. He'd been in worse spots.
C
ome, Alexa!
Sinafin cried. She jumped up and down on
Alexa, waking her.
Alexa cracked open an eye to see a blue squirrel, then shut it
again. "No." She snuggled deeper into the soft mattress. As soon as
she'd escaped the clutches of the Marshalls, she'd showered and hopped into
bed, though the sun still shone.
After her humiliating sickness, they'd whipped up another potion
that settled her stomach and fed her. Then Alexa had been stuck in a room and
measured and given "little" clothes by giggling women. Following
that, she'd been shown into a map room to watch some oddity on an animated
landscape. Finally, she'd been plunked down and taught some Lladranan by a
person who tried to keep a straight face at her pronunciation. Alexa began to
wonder if the days here were the same length as on Earth.
Alexa, Alexa, you must come.
Sinafin scrabbled at
the covers that Alexa pulled over her head.
"No, I'm tired. I've had a
very
full day and I'm not
going anywhere. I'm staying in bed, and if I'm lucky, the Snap will come and
take me away."