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Authors: Tristan J. Tarwater

BOOK: Self-Made Scoundrel
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“I’ve seen you at the Temple of the Full Moon at opening prayers, and this might be of interest to you,” Asa said, pointing at Derk with the short sword, which worried the thief greatly. “It’s a chance to do a service for our great Goddess. Would you want to come along?”

Derk looked around again, eyes scanning the streets, fairly certain Celeel had indeed left. He nodded, turning his attention back to the burly young man and his sister. “I might, I might…anything for the Goddess.” Maybe it’d be good to get away from town for a bit. The thugs who stole and ran rackets were starting to wear on him and he hadn’t swung a blade in quite a while. Plus, he doubted this oak of a man or his sister would be calling him disparaging names anytime soon. The Goddess had treated him well thus far; maybe it was time he pay her back some of her kindness. “When do we go?”

“Meet us in front of the temple at the beginning of first watch,” Asa said, sheathing his sword, his sister finally managing a bit of a smile in Derk’s direction. “Only bring anything you can’t live without, as the good church will be supplying us with most everything.”

“Beginning of first watch…can’t we meet up at the end of the second, perhaps? After mid-meal and a nap?” The life of stolen luxury seldom had him up for first meal or second. Asa laughed heartily as he and his sister walked down the street, a good, deep laugh, his bloodied face bright with amusement.

“Great, you’re funny! That’ll be good on the road.” Asa had a big smile making him look younger despite his beard. “Remember, only bring what you need. If it happens to be raining, we’ll be inside.” And with that they both left, the girl with the green eyes and her burly brother crossing the street just as a pair of brown cloaks marched up to the building. Derk ducked his head and followed suit, leaving the street and walking off in the opposite direction of the young man and the girl once he was outside; he’d pay his tab when he got back into town.

 

He didn’t have any trouble finding Celeel. He visited the room she kept a few times before, but this night he showed up at her door with a mission. The busted lip he suffered at the hand of the gamblers was almost scabbed by the time he reached the flight of stairs; he would have to bite it open to warrant the right effect. He knocked on her door, stumbling in, letting her lead him to her bed so she could dress his wounds and fuss over him. It wasn’t the romantic display he had wanted but she was just as pretty and warm wiping the blood off his mouth as she had been sitting across from him in the bar.

Derk made sure she was asleep before he got out of bed, dressing as quietly as he could and checking how sound asleep she was yet again before he carefully and quietly opened the trunk sitting at the end of the bed. He cracked it open, keeping his eyes on Celeel to see if she stirred. The sun was threatening to be out soon and he wanted to be at the temple on time. Still watching the sleeping woman, he reached his hand into the trunk carefully, feeling around inside for what he knew was in the right hand corner, buried under two quilts and a piece of unfinished lacework. He had to open the trunk a little bit more than he had hoped. The hinges creaked quietly as the trunk pushed away slightly from the bed, the sound of wood rubbing against wood seeming to be amplified by the dark.

He crouched there, frozen, expecting her to at least stir in her bed if not wake up. Instead she snored quietly, brown curls masking her face, the blanket low enough to expose a bare shoulder. Derk stretched his fingers, wiggling them as he lowered his hand and closed it around what he was looking for. With as much care as he had taken to acquire the small, cloth pouch, he removed it, closing the trunk quietly and not bothering to push it back to its original position.

Old Gam’s “meddling” tools, as she called them. He tucked them into the inside pocket of his coat, pulling up the collar as he headed down the stairs of the boarding house, the front door left open by someone who had risen even earlier than he. Cold morning air sunk into his lungs and made him breathe deep. It would be warm by the end of the watch, the sun giving away its location by painting the sky above it a faint orange. Derk knew where the temple was and he jogged in its general direction, the activity warming his blood. He was tired from lack of sleep and his face still ached from last night’s fight, but if they were traveling there was a chance of a cart. He could always sleep in there.

As he turned the corner his eyes spied a small cart with a horse. Grey clad figures were still loading the cart, the large frame of Asa standing close by. The now familiar form of his sister stepped out from behind her brother and she saw Derk, waving heartily to the man who trotted toward them.

“Well, I’m up, I might as well come along.” Derk stretched his arms above his head, looking toward Devra. She looked younger than Asa by a few years, her dark, plaited hair doing nothing to make him think otherwise. Her bright, unnaturally green eyes made him want to stare and look away at the same time. Her hands were still covered by fingerless gloves and Asa took her hand, helping her up into the cart. As soon as she was settled she promptly pulled a tablet out of one of the packs and started reading. Asa walked around to the other side of the cart, motioning Derk should follow, nodding to one of the robed figures who also nodded in greeting.

“We are lucky enough to be trusted by the Church to go to the Temple of the Ever Burning Sun and retrieve a holy relic. They’re finally ready to give it back,” Asa explained, the cadence of his words suggesting he was reciting something he had heard. “You know the history. Before the Great March, there was much fighting between the Four Factions. Before our ancestors left to follow the Goddess here, a holy relic was lost amid the violence and dealings, a glorious chalice said to have been given to Her people by Her own holy hand. Somehow it wound up with the brothers at the Sun Temple, who happened to come along with the first settlers of the Valley. They are now willing to give it back as an act of good will.”

Derk was familiar with the first part of the story; the same tale told in most temples, churches, and squares on Founder’s Day. Most tellings included a bit more bloodshed and bad talk about the land of origin, Holy Haran of the Sacred Family. Rarely had it ever included talk of goods to be got. “A holy chalice?” he murmured, stifling a yawn lest he offend the young man with the sword. “I see…and they’re just giving it back?”

“As an act of good will,” Asa said, tugging on one of the ropes running across the wagon load, testing its fastness. “They’ve been communicating with the Church for quite some time, almost the entire season. The Sun Temple wants the chalice returned to its proper place. They are hoping this act will encourage relations between the two churches.”

“If they’re just handing it over, why d’yah need me to tag along? You expecting them to change their minds at the last minute?” Though Derk was interested in doing something for his Goddess and the temple he had been attending for the last few phases, he still wanted to know if there was danger of his head being cracked open, albeit for a noble cause. Asa shook his head as he scratched the scar at his bushy eyebrow, finally walking into the temple itself.

“It ain’t…it’s not like that,” he said, lowering his voice so it wouldn’t boom in the quiet temple. “Getting the chalice isn’t the problem, it’s getting there. The Temple is in the Freewild Green, and while my sister could knock a few creatures onto their backsides, an extra set of eyes and a sword ain’t…isn’t a bad idea.”

“What’re you talking about, your sister?” Derk asked as quietly as he could, not able to keep confusion out of his voice. “I was about to say, the Freewild is a dangerous place. I’ve heard awful stories, mind you, and most of them from men who were only half drunk. Why d’yah think bringing your sister along is such a good idea? I mean, not to be rude or nothing but she seems a bit…bookish.”

Asa actually smiled with pride, his handsome face beaming at the other man’s observation. “She is, isn’t she? My ma always said, one twin got the muscles, the other the brains.” They approached the altar, the mural of the beautiful Goddess staring down at them from Her two dimensional throne, silver hair cascading over Her bare torso. Asa knelt, placing his hands over his heart as if to pray. Derk joined him, interrupting his would-be devotionals with more questions.

“That girl…she’s your twin? And betwixt, it still fails to answer my question! Is she a good shot with an arrow?” Derk was less sure tagging along on this venture was a good idea. Maybe he could sneak back into Old Gam’s and replace her tools before she noticed. If he didn’t before she discovered them missing, he’d have to come up with something more than a split lip to get back in her bed. Asa turned and sat on the altar, rummaging around in his pouch for something, his hand emerging with what looked like some kind of root.

“Yes, she’s my twin. My sister and my twin.” He put one end of the root into his mouth and began to chew, a strangely sweet and spicy smell wafting through the air.. “She’s not good with an arrow. She is better with finer things, more delicate…things unimagined.” Again, Asa’s words sounded like someone else’s, though they came from his mouth. Derk was under the impression Asa put more stock in the words of others and tried to recite what they said in order to get things right. However, the thief was still unclear about a few things.

“That’s well and good, but tits, what has the girl been studying? Poisons?”

Asa turned to him and Derk couldn’t help but take a step away from him, the gravity on the young man’s strong face taking him aback. Dark brown eyes hardened with all the seriousness Derk felt the man could muster and Asa licked his lips. “Swear to me you won’t share this with anyone. I’m only telling you because you’re coming and you seem like a man who understands serious things, and…you won’t tell.” It wasn’t a question. It was as a fact Asa put forth, and Derk regarded the male twin with a narrowed eye as he considered what lengths Asa would go through to keep it true. Derk’s eyes fell on the shortsword and then the man’s arms. His curiosity was piqued for many reasons.

“Fine, I swear it. I mean, of course I swear it. I swear upon my soul, my restoration and my peace, I shall not speak on what you are about to tell me. May I suffer at Her Hems if I speak on it.” The oath was said. For a moment Derk thought Asa wasn’t going to tell him but then the young man turned his eyes up toward the mural of the Goddess.

“She’s a…a user of power,” Asa said quietly. The way he said it didn’t suggest shame or fear. Derk felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he took another step back, hands springing up as if someone was about to hit him.

“Hold on, she’s a binder?”

“She ain’t no binder,” Asa growled, his face growing dark and hard again, the muscles in his arms twitching as if he held back a great deal of anger. “She’s…a Wielder..” Asa watched Derk’s face for a reaction and Derk tried not to look shocked. “Or apprenticed to one at least,” Asa continued, trying to soften the blow. “She don’t…doesn’t do curses and nonsense like that. Devra’s smart and good and patient and…she has self control. It’s not a curse, it’s a calling and it suits her.” His eyebrows knit together, revealing his feelings before he voiced them. “Though I worry about her sometimes. Devra’s been studying for a while, but she’s not sure of herself. Her master wants her to go out in the world and start using what she has learned, experience…things. I mean, I’ve seen what she can do. But Devra second guesses herself and she’s not good with a sword
or a club in a tight bind.” Asa took a deep breath and blew out through his nose, staring up at the mural of the Goddess. “She needs protection. I really appreciate having the extra set of eyes.”

Derk sucked in his breath and stood up, turning around so he faced the large painting of the Goddess once more, her deep eyes seeming strong yet gentle at the same time. The altar was empty of any religious tools. No bowl or arrow lay there for ceremony, only the Goddess and the two of them standing before her. And a Wielder in the cart outside.

A Wielder was something Derk had never imagined he would come across. They were the subject of stories told at bedtime and in bars, tales of wonder and pain. Wielders wandered the land, able to harness the power imbued within the realm the Goddess had given them. No one knew how they were able to do it. Only the Wielders did. They were said to be dangerous, to be regarded with awe. Binders of spirits were feared and healers were sought out, but Wielders were outside of society.

The Church’s position on Wielders was to leave them be. They were given something most people were not. Their numbers were small and as they seemed more than happy to keep to themselves, the Church chose to not intervene. Tolerance was important and since no one really knew how they worked, there was the fear a balance would be undone if they were disturbed. The girl with the strange green eyes hardly seemed like a threat. Except to Asa, if she couldn’t protect herself. The chance to see a Wielder do anything was almost worth it. Almost.

A thought entered Derk’s head and he held up a hand as he spoke, not wanting Asa to interrupt. “All right, fine…the Goddess, bless Her, has been good to me. I’ll not be the first or last to say she’s treated me well and kept me when I couldn’t keep myself. She’s guided me and it’s time to pay Her back if it’s what she wills. You’re obviously good people, someone to trust or the priestesses wouldn’t have asked you and your sister to fetch the relic. You must be capable if they believe you can get there and back. And like I said, I will not tell about your sister. You have my word.”

Derk looked to Asa and he could see the thankfulness in the young man’s eyes. For now. “However, one thing troubles me and perhaps you haven’t thought of it. You say our Church and this temple have been communicating for some time and they’re willing to give the chalice up to start some good will between the Church and this small faction. But I’ve been out and about and not everyone, including men and women in flowing robes, is always blue throughout. Maybe I’m being paranoid and such but how will we know for sure if what they give us is the right thing?”

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