years longer than I
should have. Kyrus should have switched places with you when you were
boys."
"You think I liked growing up a misfit? Being
the only one at the Academy without a sniff of a draw? I would have traded
places with Kyrus in an instant."
"Well, as long as we agree that you spent at
least five years keeping my prayers from being answered, then I'm
satisfied." Soria hooked her arm through Brannis's and began to tow him
out of Temple Square.
"There is something you need to explain to
me," Brannis said as he allowed himself to be pulled along. "If you
worship the goddess of mercy, how can you work as a coinblade?"
"It was a picture book, Brannis. I knew
Tansha's name, and to pray to her. I learned to pronounce the names under the
gods' pictures, but I couldn't read Acardian. It's not like I was brought up a
pacifist. When a goddess answers your prayers, who cares what it says in her
book?"
* * * * * * *
*
Acardia's royal palace was hardly worth the
appellation. It stood three stories, all meticulously whitewashed stone, with
glass windows and a red-clay tiled roof. It had a small courtyard in front that
was brown and leafless, save for a few evergreen shrubs. The palace and all of
the grounds would have just about fit within the center courtyard of the
imperial palace in Kadris.
Brannis and Soria arrived at the gates to find them
flanked by a pair of guardsmen arrayed in blue and white. Neither was armed
beyond the truncheon hanging at his side.
"Halt. State your business."
"Hello, I am an old acquaintance of his
majesty's scribe, Expert Davin," Brannis said.
"No blades within the palace, I'm afraid,
sir," the guard said, pointing at Avalanche sheathed on Brannis's hip. Drat.
I cannot let them handle Avalanche. Too dangerous if they get curious and draw
it.
"Quite all right, I assure you. I was just
hoping to give him a message and to see if he has time to meet with me."
Brannis handed the man a small wooden tube that was capped in copper at either
end. Contingencies, contingencies ... Your paranoia is rubbing off on me,
Rashan. But thank you, this once.
The guard looked the tube over. "I'll have to
open it." Brannis nodded his assent. A moment's inspection satisfied the man,
and he sealed up the tube once more. "What name shall I give Expert
Davin?"
"I am Erund Hinterdale. This is my wife,
Soria." Brannis smiled, hoping that he had not stumbled over the
introduction.
"Very well sir. Are you staying nearby?"
"We have a room at The Golden Elk."
The guard perked up at the news. The Golden Elk was
not a place for the light of purse.
* * * * * * *
*
"Well, that just fills out our day now, doesn't
it?" Soria said. She took off her long coat and hung it on a peg near the
door of their rented room. "Your friend Davin works for the king, which
means his hours are whatever King Gorden decides they are. He could send for us
any moment, or be busy until midnight."
"King Gorden is an old man. How late can he be
about?"
"Yes, but it's not even noontime yet. We're
just stuck here waiting for word." Soria crossed her arms in front of her,
lean muscle and calloused hands against delicate pale blue silk.
Brannis glanced about the room, looking left, then
right, then twisting about to look behind him. He gave the ceiling and floor
each a quick examination as well, before turning his attention back to Soria.
He looked her top to bottom and back again.
"I have no idea how we can busy ourselves all
that time," Brannis said with a widening grin.
* * * * * * *
*
The horse's trotting gait upon the cobblestones was
enough advanced warning for Brannis and Soria to make themselves presentable. A
half-empty bowl of fruit sat upon the bedside table next to another bowl
bearing apple cores and grape stems—all either of them had eaten as they
waited.
"Royal seal on the carriage," Brannis said
as he peered out the window. The royal hawk was painted in gold, holding the
broken ends of a sword in its claws. "Either it came
should have. Kyrus should have switched places with you when you were
boys."
"You think I liked growing up a misfit? Being
the only one at the Academy without a sniff of a draw? I would have traded
places with Kyrus in an instant."
"Well, as long as we agree that you spent at
least five years keeping my prayers from being answered, then I'm
satisfied." Soria hooked her arm through Brannis's and began to tow him
out of Temple Square.
"There is something you need to explain to
me," Brannis said as he allowed himself to be pulled along. "If you
worship the goddess of mercy, how can you work as a coinblade?"
"It was a picture book, Brannis. I knew
Tansha's name, and to pray to her. I learned to pronounce the names under the
gods' pictures, but I couldn't read Acardian. It's not like I was brought up a
pacifist. When a goddess answers your prayers, who cares what it says in her
book?"
* * * * * * *
*
Acardia's royal palace was hardly worth the
appellation. It stood three stories, all meticulously whitewashed stone, with
glass windows and a red-clay tiled roof. It had a small courtyard in front that
was brown and leafless, save for a few evergreen shrubs. The palace and all of
the grounds would have just about fit within the center courtyard of the
imperial palace in Kadris.
Brannis and Soria arrived at the gates to find them
flanked by a pair of guardsmen arrayed in blue and white. Neither was armed
beyond the truncheon hanging at his side.
"Halt. State your business."
"Hello, I am an old acquaintance of his
majesty's scribe, Expert Davin," Brannis said.
"No blades within the palace, I'm afraid,
sir," the guard said, pointing at Avalanche sheathed on Brannis's hip. Drat.
I cannot let them handle Avalanche. Too dangerous if they get curious and draw
it.
"Quite all right, I assure you. I was just
hoping to give him a message and to see if he has time to meet with me."
Brannis handed the man a small wooden tube that was capped in copper at either
end. Contingencies, contingencies ... Your paranoia is rubbing off on me,
Rashan. But thank you, this once.
The guard looked the tube over. "I'll have to
open it." Brannis nodded his assent. A moment's inspection satisfied the man,
and he sealed up the tube once more. "What name shall I give Expert
Davin?"
"I am Erund Hinterdale. This is my wife,
Soria." Brannis smiled, hoping that he had not stumbled over the
introduction.
"Very well sir. Are you staying nearby?"
"We have a room at The Golden Elk."
The guard perked up at the news. The Golden Elk was
not a place for the light of purse.
* * * * * * *
*
"Well, that just fills out our day now, doesn't
it?" Soria said. She took off her long coat and hung it on a peg near the
door of their rented room. "Your friend Davin works for the king, which
means his hours are whatever King Gorden decides they are. He could send for us
any moment, or be busy until midnight."
"King Gorden is an old man. How late can he be
about?"
"Yes, but it's not even noontime yet. We're
just stuck here waiting for word." Soria crossed her arms in front of her,
lean muscle and calloused hands against delicate pale blue silk.
Brannis glanced about the room, looking left, then
right, then twisting about to look behind him. He gave the ceiling and floor
each a quick examination as well, before turning his attention back to Soria.
He looked her top to bottom and back again.
"I have no idea how we can busy ourselves all
that time," Brannis said with a widening grin.
* * * * * * *
*
The horse's trotting gait upon the cobblestones was
enough advanced warning for Brannis and Soria to make themselves presentable. A
half-empty bowl of fruit sat upon the bedside table next to another bowl
bearing apple cores and grape stems—all either of them had eaten as they
waited.
"Royal seal on the carriage," Brannis said
as he peered out the window. The royal hawk was painted in gold, holding the
broken ends of a sword in its claws. "Either it came
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