Kingshelm (Renegade Druid Cycle Book 1) (22 page)

“Indeed,” the Emperor said. “But I am discovering associations between supposedly unrelated events. And I am guessing correctly and making right decisions based on those associations.”
 

The Lady nodded. “This will only increase as you master the Order’s numerology system, as well as the more esoteric symbol systems you have yet to learn. You may never learn to directly manipulate
vir
power, to bend reality and cast spells. That is purely a function of the effort you put in your studies and meditations. But at the very least, you will learn to intuitively feel the significance between seemingly unrelated events, even if you cannot explain your conclusions using conventional logic.”
 

Lady Madeline stood. “We are teaching you a different form of logic, a language by which you can explain those meaningful coincidences that are helping you pierce the fog of politics. I now leave you to your mediation. Think deeply on the number five, and all of phenomena that are directly or indirectly appropriate to it.”

This is pure nonsense,
Mithrandrates thought as he settled onto a cushion on the stone floor. He inhaled, held it, and exhaled—a cleansing breath.
Pure nonsense, and therefore the realm of Absurdia. Who is one of the three hermetic sephiroth. Goddess and sphere of emanation all at once. Metaphor. And the Material Sephira and the Null Sephira make five, five of the nine total. Or eight, excluding the Null. Five and three, three and two are five…
 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jasmine asked Barryn as he packed his traveling clothes in a waxed canvas bag. She sat on the edge of his small bed reading the letter of recommendation Barryn would carry with him when he left to join the mercenaries at Falgren Keep. It was signed by Lady Tethys herself.
 

This was the last day of Barryn’s yearlong service to the House of Portia, and she had seemed honored to write the letter sending him on his next journey. But Barryn had caught just a hint of sadness when she had given it to him earlier that day.

“Rumors of war are flying everywhere,” Jasmine said. “And not just in the ladies’ beds, when careless tongues wag in the afterglow. The whole city is on edge.”
 

“I know,” he said. “The signs of war are all around. Shopkeepers are hoarding staples, and the City Watch is losing men every day. The Guild mercenaries won’t have anything to do with the deserters, but the free companies will gladly take them.”

She laughed mirthlessly and set the letter down on the bed. “What have we done to you, Barryn? You were so innocent and unsophisticated a year ago. Now you can talk to women without stammering and read the omens of political turmoil like a jaded diplomat.”
 

Barryn paused and looked at Jasmine, a vague grin creeping across one side of his lips. “The ladies at the House of Portia have had a very civilizing effect on me.”
 

“Certain ladies more so than others,” she said. “Lady Tethys got very little work out of you after Lady Sanguina got ahold of you.”
 

“Are you jealous?”

“A little.”
 

The answer took Barryn by surprise. Before he could gather his thoughts, Jasmine changed the subject. “What was it like growing up a heathen? I always wondered, but we were both too busy with our duties for us to talk about it. Are the mountains beautiful?”

“I only saw them up close once, when I was on my vision quest at the Sacred Springs. And even then, I was only in the foothills,” Barryn said. “But yes, they are beautiful in the distance, Jasmine. Especially when the sun is setting behind them and the clouds seem to be on fire above them. But they’re also frightening. When I was still among the Caeldrynn,
 
we spent a great deal of my life trying to survive amid the powers that created those mountains.”
 

“Is it hard to appease your gods?” she asked. “The ones we abandoned in the Empire long ago?”
 

“There is no appeasing them,” he said. “We just try to live in harmony with them as best we can. We thank them for the blessings they give us. Even the poorest among the Caeldrynn rarely go hungry because the woods and fields are so bountiful. And when the gods do smite our villages with floods or fires or storms, the survivors pray for strength and then rebuild. Neighboring villages and clans will send help as best they can. I’ve seen entire villages destroyed and rebuilt. The gods destroy, we band together to rebuild, we enjoy the bounty of the land for a time. And then the gods strike somewhere else.”
 

Barryn turned his attention back to his packing. He rolled a dark green wool cloak into a tight packet and stuffed it in the bag.

“The Caeldrynn sound more civilized than we are,” Jasmine said. She picked up a shirt and carefully folded it for him. “Why do you want to fight in this stupid war? It has nothing to do with you.”
 

“For the same reason I can never go back to the Caeldrynn,” he said.

Barryn’s secret was one of countless that were guarded in the halls of the House of Portia. He had blurted it out to Lady Sanguina while in his pain-induced trance; he now gave it freely to Jasmine. “Deva Ashara appeared to me while I was training to become a druid. She claimed me. She took me away from my home, my people. Away from everything I had ever loved or known before. And now she is leading me to the Black Swan Company. When it’s time to part ways with the mercenaries, Ashara will guide me to wherever she wants me next.”
 

“I’ll never understand religious people like you.”
 

“Oh, I’m not religious,” he said. “Not anymore. Religious people worship their gods, and I don’t worship Ashara. I just do what she tells me to. I’m afraid not to.”

Barryn paused and looked at Jasmine. “But I’m finding that she gives me strength, too. It’s just enough strength to get me through whatever hell she leads me to, but I revel in it. Strength is one of the kindest blessings the Mighty Ones can give us, and I’m grateful to Ashara for it.”

Barryn wore his best clothes to the celebration that night in the great hall of the House of Portia. It was a very special occasion, and he wanted to look his best on the night that Jasmine was to be accepted as a full-fledged member of the Courtesans Guild.
 

The evening began with feasting, drinking and music. Barryn sat at a table in the front with distinguished guests and family members of Guild ladies, and he felt bashful and awkward for the first time in months. Everyone at his table held some title of nobility or was otherwise incredibly wealthy. The guests looked like a field of wild flowers swaying and bobbing in the wind, such was splendor of their finery—wildflowers dining and drinking and chatting merrily in an illuminated cavern of splendor.
 

A graying man next to him with a close-trimmed beard leaned in and fairly shouted above the din, “Did someone steal your horse? Why so somber? The dancers will be out here any minute! Pass me a quail, would you?”
 

Barryn did so and answered, “I know all about the dancers. I was indentured to Lady Tethys for the past year. And I’m not sad about anything. Just shy, I suppose.”
 

“What is there to be shy about? You’re sitting at the best table in the house. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t deserve to be. Why, I’m the richest warehouse owner in Brynn, and here you are rubbing elbows with me. Attas is my name.”
 

“Barryn is mine. It is an honor to meet you.”
 

“Honor? Balls. I own half the city because 20 years ago I bought the three of the best-placed warehouses on the river for a song from their previous owner. He had pissed away every copper crown he earned at the gambling tables. I got rich because he couldn’t handle his damn business. Now if you want to know who you should be honored to meet, see that man and lady at the end of the table? Those are the Count and Countess of Tegarissa. And that man across from us is Warden of the Walls and Defensive Works…”
 

The dancers came and went, enthralling all with their measured, rhythmic undulations and wild body paint—all but Barryn and Attas. Barryn soaked in the gossip and introductions Attas so freely gave, and Attas seemed to enjoy having someone listening to him.
 

“I’m learning more about Brynn talking to you than I’ve learned after living here for a year,” Barryn said.

“Where are you from, then?”
 

“West,” he said. “Deep in the country.”
 

Before Attas could probe further, the music stopped and drummers banged a signal for all to be silent. Lady Tethys and Lady Sanguina got up from their seats at the head of the great hall, the grand staircase spreading behind them and into the mezzanine.
 

“Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, honored guests,” Lady Tethys said. “I hope you are enjoying the food, the drink and the entertainment.” She paused and smiled sweetly while the guests clapped, banged on the tables and whistled.

When the clamor died down, Lady Tethys continued. “We are gathered here tonight to congratulate a young woman who will be taking her vows of fealty and loyalty to the Courtesans Guild. Jasmine! Approach.”
 

Guards opened the double doors at the other end of the hall, and Jasmine processed up the aisle between the rows of tables. She was covered from head to toe in a flowing, hooded robe of embroidered red velvet. The guests stood as she passed by. Barryn thought she looked like a druid in full robes and felt a pang homesickness.
 

When she neared Tethys and Sanguina, Jasmine knelt on a richly brocaded cushion that had been placed before the mistresses of the house.
 

“What have you learned during your apprenticeship at the House of Portia?” Lady Tethys asked formally, almost stonily.
 

“I have learned true power over the strength of man is through his heart, his mind, and his body,” she recited.

“And how will you use that power?” Lady Sanguina asked.
 

“I will use my power for the delight of those who are in my arms, and to the empowerment of myself and my sisters of the Guild.”
 

“Then rise, Lady Jasmine, and be a sister to us in the Sublime and Honorable Company of Courtesans!” Lady Tethys said.
 

Lady Jasmine stood, and Tethys and Sanguina peeled the robe off her and let it spill in a pool of crimson on the floor. Underneath, Jasmine was clad only in a fine net of jewels that glittered and sparkled like frost on a moonlit idol of a goddess. She turned, achingly slowly, and presented herself to the guests. The room erupted in applause and whistles, men and women alike.

“Half of these women wish they could be where Lady Jasmine is right now,” Attas said into Barryn’s ear. “She can become rich someday, but now she’s already free in way these women can never be.”
 

He barely heard Attas. Barryn was filled with desire and conflict. He yearned to sweetly court her like a knight in the romances. But he also wished he could afford a night to bed her as a customer.
The mark of a strong mind is its ability to hold two contradictory ideas at the same time
, he remembered Paardrac saying once.
 

Lady Tethys again waited for the applause to abate. “Lady Jasmine has served the House of Portia well during her apprenticeship, and has fully earned my boon. We give you a team of horses, a wagon, supplies and a fine wardrobe for your travels as a Lady in good standing with this Guild. We give you those gifts, along with our love and esteem. Go forth, beautiful Lady Jasmine, and earn your fortune.”
 

More applause, this time cut short by a stark hand gesture from Lady Sanguina. “Lady Jasmine is not the only one to receive our boon this night. Our former indentured servant, Barryn, is free this night and has served this House well. We grant to him a horse, tack, saddlebags and supplies for a journey.”
 

The guests looked at him and nodded their approval of his service and rewards. Barryn knew about these gifts. They were, in fact, back pay earned during the course of his indenture.
 

“These gifts are customary and expected for a servant of such an affluent House,” Lady Sanguina said. “But to truly show our esteem and affection for him, a more suitable gift is necessary. Approach us, Barryn.”
 

Barryn was taken aback by what Lady Sanguina said. He tripped on his chair but recovered before anyone but Attas could notice and walked toward the three ladies. A woman handed Lady Sanguina a long bundle wrapped in fine cloth.
 

“The road you will travel is long and dangerous. Carry this by your side.” She quickly unwrapped the cloth, revealing a simple but finely crafted sword in a dark brown scabbard. The quillions and pommel were black, and the hilt was wrapped in dark red leather. “This is ‘Bloodsinger,’ forged in the heart of the Shoraz-Athar by a renowned M’Tarr swordsmith. Use it to slay your foes. And,” Lady Sanguina’s tone softened, “to defend Lady Jasmine as you accompany her to Falgren Keep, where she will serve as the Courtesans Guild representative to the Black Swan Company.”
 

She balanced the sword on her open palms and leaned in close to hand it to Barryn.
 

“Close your mouth, Little Pet. You’re catching flies in it,” Lady Sanguina whispered to him with her wicked smile Barryn had come to know so well.
 

A little more than a year had passed since Barryn had ridden through the gates of Brynn as an exhausted, frightened passenger in a tinker’s wagon. Now, on another spring day just as clear and crisp, he rode beside another wagon on a horse of his own, sporting a yard of fine M’Tarr steel on his left hip. The robber’s dagger rested on his right.

Jasmine and Barryn rode through the Eagle Gate of Brynn and onto the Imperial road. Their route would take them southeast for several days, then northeast on a side road leading to Falgren Keep.