“Like mine!” She lifted her shirt high, showing a pale, plump tummy—
And the birthmark of the Chosen.
TEN
IT was like a splash of cold water on Red’s face.
She had to give him credit, Auxter recovered before anyone else. “Children! Arent has been baking all day, and she’s a plate of sticky buns for you in the kitchens. Off with you, now.”
The boys needed no encouragement whatsoever. They sprang off like hounds on a scent. Evelyn released Brela, who ran after them. “Wait for me, wait for me!”
Auxter reached for a staff that leaned on the wall behind him and struggled to his feet. “Onza, as soon as you’ve dealt with the metal, come to the great hall. And spread the word, lad.”
The smith had retrieved his hammer, and was looking at his misshapen work with resignation.
“Might be a while.”
“Then set it aside. We’ve more important weapons to forge.” Auxter moved forward, fairly fast for a man with a pronounced limp. “Evelyn, Red Gloves, come with me.”
“Auxter, I—”
“Not a word, Evelyn.” Auxter looked over his shoulder. “And you, lass.”
Red raised an eyebrow.
“Keep your clothes on, eh?”
There was no time to respond to that. Auxter limped to the practice circle, and all activity ceased.
The warriors stopped their sparring, and listened as Auxter issued commands, snapping out orders and messages for a half-dozen people. Red watched, impressed with the way he was obeyed.
Evelyn came to stand beside her. Red ignored her.
Once the warriors had scattered to do his bidding, Auxter waved the women on. “Come.”
Auxter was not happy with the priestess, to Red’s way of thinking. Not that she blamed him. The priestess was keeping too many secrets. Just as well Evelyn had been holding a child in her arms, or Red might have wrung her neck right then and there.
Auxter would’ve probably helped.
They followed Auxter to the big stone manor house and through wooden double doors into the great hall. Red looked around, impressed by the upper floor and the balcony. There were tables and benches scattered about, and the head table off to the side.
Auxter kept walking, toward the hearth at the other end of the hall. A fire was lit within, and Auxter made for it. One large chair stood square in the center of the furniture, facing the hall entrance. Not a throne, but certainly the chair of the head of the household, whatever he might be called.
Auxter sat in the chair, easing his leg out straight before him. “Eveyln,” he said, patting the stool next to his chair. The priestess went where she was directed. He didn’t offer Red a seat.
She wasn’t surprised.
She planted herself before him, facing the hearth, her arms folded one over the other, her weight on her right leg. And waited.
Auxter eyed her closely. “So. A chosen. And a warrior.”
“As you once were,” Red answered pointedly.
Auxter scowled.
Evelyn shifted on her stool. “Auxter, I—”
“Have better sense,” Auxter growled at Evelyn. “You might have warned me. Might have warned her, from the expression on her face. What were you think—”
People entered the hall behind Red, and Auxter broke off to call to one. “Vembar, join us.
Evelyn’s brought news that wants discussion.”
Red turned slightly and saw a much older man shuffle into view, leaning on the arm of a slight girl. The girl was clad in a tunic and trous, with a dagger at her belt. She had straight brown, shoulder-length hair, just like Red’s. The man was dressed in soft white robes, and moved slowly. Red figured him to be at least in his sixties, if not older. With the lass’s help, he eased into one of the chairs close to the heat, next to Evelyn. “What news?” He wheezed slightly, breathless from the effort.
“Vembar, may I make you known to Red Gloves?” Evelyn looked at Red. “This is Vembar, the Chancellor of Palins under the late King.”
Vembar returned Red’s nod with regal dignity. No warrior here, that
And the birthmark of the Chosen.
TEN
IT was like a splash of cold water on Red’s face.
She had to give him credit, Auxter recovered before anyone else. “Children! Arent has been baking all day, and she’s a plate of sticky buns for you in the kitchens. Off with you, now.”
The boys needed no encouragement whatsoever. They sprang off like hounds on a scent. Evelyn released Brela, who ran after them. “Wait for me, wait for me!”
Auxter reached for a staff that leaned on the wall behind him and struggled to his feet. “Onza, as soon as you’ve dealt with the metal, come to the great hall. And spread the word, lad.”
The smith had retrieved his hammer, and was looking at his misshapen work with resignation.
“Might be a while.”
“Then set it aside. We’ve more important weapons to forge.” Auxter moved forward, fairly fast for a man with a pronounced limp. “Evelyn, Red Gloves, come with me.”
“Auxter, I—”
“Not a word, Evelyn.” Auxter looked over his shoulder. “And you, lass.”
Red raised an eyebrow.
“Keep your clothes on, eh?”
There was no time to respond to that. Auxter limped to the practice circle, and all activity ceased.
The warriors stopped their sparring, and listened as Auxter issued commands, snapping out orders and messages for a half-dozen people. Red watched, impressed with the way he was obeyed.
Evelyn came to stand beside her. Red ignored her.
Once the warriors had scattered to do his bidding, Auxter waved the women on. “Come.”
Auxter was not happy with the priestess, to Red’s way of thinking. Not that she blamed him. The priestess was keeping too many secrets. Just as well Evelyn had been holding a child in her arms, or Red might have wrung her neck right then and there.
Auxter would’ve probably helped.
They followed Auxter to the big stone manor house and through wooden double doors into the great hall. Red looked around, impressed by the upper floor and the balcony. There were tables and benches scattered about, and the head table off to the side.
Auxter kept walking, toward the hearth at the other end of the hall. A fire was lit within, and Auxter made for it. One large chair stood square in the center of the furniture, facing the hall entrance. Not a throne, but certainly the chair of the head of the household, whatever he might be called.
Auxter sat in the chair, easing his leg out straight before him. “Eveyln,” he said, patting the stool next to his chair. The priestess went where she was directed. He didn’t offer Red a seat.
She wasn’t surprised.
She planted herself before him, facing the hearth, her arms folded one over the other, her weight on her right leg. And waited.
Auxter eyed her closely. “So. A chosen. And a warrior.”
“As you once were,” Red answered pointedly.
Auxter scowled.
Evelyn shifted on her stool. “Auxter, I—”
“Have better sense,” Auxter growled at Evelyn. “You might have warned me. Might have warned her, from the expression on her face. What were you think—”
People entered the hall behind Red, and Auxter broke off to call to one. “Vembar, join us.
Evelyn’s brought news that wants discussion.”
Red turned slightly and saw a much older man shuffle into view, leaning on the arm of a slight girl. The girl was clad in a tunic and trous, with a dagger at her belt. She had straight brown, shoulder-length hair, just like Red’s. The man was dressed in soft white robes, and moved slowly. Red figured him to be at least in his sixties, if not older. With the lass’s help, he eased into one of the chairs close to the heat, next to Evelyn. “What news?” He wheezed slightly, breathless from the effort.
“Vembar, may I make you known to Red Gloves?” Evelyn looked at Red. “This is Vembar, the Chancellor of Palins under the late King.”
Vembar returned Red’s nod with regal dignity. No warrior here, that
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