Chapter Eleven
“Romik!”
Romik looked up from where he’d been watching the central wagon of Nerda’s caravan and summoned up a tight smile for the man himself as he approached. Despite his age, Nerda moved with a ground-eating stride that brought him alongside Romik within the span of a few heartbeats.
“How’s yer lady then? And Mell?”
Romik shrugged. “No change the last time I checked inside. Mell’s still out of his head with fever. Aelys is doing what she can, but it’s in Divine hands more than hers.”
“Aye, well, that’s what I wanted to speak about. There’s an old sanctuary coming up over this hill. A common travelers’ stop. Some of my men, well, we know your lady’s doing all she can with her wisewomaning, but we figured it couldn’t hurt to stop and pray for Mell and his family.”
“Which Divine does the sanctuary honor?” Romik glanced over at Daen, who’d walked up on the other side of the road.
“All of ’em. Like I said, it’s a travelers’ sanctuary, so all types of followers stop there for all types of reasons. Thought I’d let you know.”
“Much appreciated, Nerda,” Romik said. “I’ll tell Aelys and my brothers. We’re…not exactly devout, but we’re not exactly unbelievers either.”
Nerda flashed a wide, toothy grin. “A man’s beliefs are between him and his conscience,” he said. “You’ll not hear judgment from me either way.”
Romik nodded as the wagonmaster picked up his pace to move back to the head of the caravan. Then he looked over at Daen, who glanced at the wagon slightly behind him and darted across the road to join Romik.
“We’re stopping at a roadside sanctuary,” Romik said.
“I heard. Are we going in?”
“Depends,” Romik said.
“On?”
“Whether or not Aelys wants to.” He felt, more than saw, Daen’s posture stiffen, but when he looked at his brother, Daen nodded, his eyes shuttered.
“I’ll find Vil and let him know” was all that Daen said before turning away. Romik watched him go for a heartbeat, then sighed before stepping up to the back of the wagon where Aelys treated her patient.
It hadn’t taken him long to learn the quick hop-step that the caravanners used to jump on and off the short stairs that sat at the back of every wagon. Romik took a moment to let his balance adjust, then leaned his head in through the curtain that shielded the wagon’s interior from the elements.
“Aelys,” he said softly. “How is he?”
Aelys looked up from her patient with a tired smile and used her wrist to push an errant curl of her auburn-dyed hair out of her face.
“The same,” she said. “But that’s about the best we can hope for right now. We just have to let his body do its job and fight off the infection.” She swayed as the wagon slowed, and the muffled calls from the drovers filtered back to them. “What’s going on?”
“What I came to tell you. Nerda said we’re stopping at a roadside sanctuary. Some of his men want to pray for Mell’s recovery…and other things, I imagine. Can you leave him for a bit? It might be a good chance to stretch your legs.”
Naked longing flickered across her face. She looked down at her sleeping patient and bit her lip briefly before meeting Romik’s eyes and nodding.
“I can, for a little bit. And stretching my legs sounds wonderful.”
Romik steadied himself on the wagon’s frame and reached one hand inside to help guide her out. The wagon swayed and lurched to a halt as her fingers touched his, and he helped her step out of the wagon and down onto the road.
Aelys lifted her face to the cloud-studded sky and drew in a deep breath. “Divines, it feels good out here,” she murmured. She put her hands at the small of her back and stretched backward, then rotated her head on her neck before meeting Romik’s eyes with a smile.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank Nerda,” he replied, reaching out to take her hand again. “It was his idea. But if you need us to stop more often—”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m fine, and the best thing for Mell is that we move quickly on to Cievers. But I am going to enjoy the stops that we do take. Where is this sanctuary?”
Romik tore his eyes from her face and looked around. They’d stopped at a widening of the imperial road, in a wide depression. The tree line stood several lengths back from the road, with plenty of clear space between the trunks—as if someone regularly cleared the undergrowth.
A circular stone building sat back in the tree line. Six squat spires ringed its roof, making it look a little like a child’s drawing of a crown. Romik touched Aelys’s arm and pointed.
“Oh!” Aelys said, delight in her tone. “How charming!”
“Do you want to go inside?” Romik asked.
“Y-yes,” she said. “But let’s give the caravanners a minute first. And…I don’t really want to go in without Daen and Vil, if that’s all right.” She glanced up at him, worry in her expression. “I know you’ll keep me safe! It’s just…I feel better with all of you.”
Romik smiled, feeling it light his eyes from within.
“Of course,” he said, unable to keep the low, intimate note out of the words. You need all of us. “Let me get them.”
He lifted his head just in time to see Daen and Vil appear from around one of the wagons up ahead. He met Daen’s eyes and jerked his chin in the universal “come here” sign language of men everywhere.
Daen nodded once in response, and he and Vil lengthened their strides until the four of them stood close enough to speak without others overhearing.
“Trouble?” Vil asked.
“No,” Romik said, as Aelys’s eyes went wide and she shook her head rapidly. “Aelys wants to go into the sanctuary, but she said she’d feel safer about it if we could all be with her.”
“I’m so—I don’t mean to be needy—”
“It’s not needy, Bella,” Vil said. “It’s what we’re here for.” He spoke from the depths of his hood, his voice empty as ever. Aelys started to curl into herself, but Romik reached down and captured her hand before she could fully do so.
“Come on,” he said. “It looks like the caravanners are filing out. Let’s go pay our respects.”
Vil stepped in front of them, leaving Daen to cover their rear as the four of them stepped off the road and crossed the grassy swath that led to the trees and the sanctuary there. As they drew close, Romik realized it was larger than he’d first thought, with a domed roof partially hidden by the spires along the edge.
The wide, double doorway had a peculiar shape, like a pointed arch, but with six distinct edges to the arch, three per door. The doors themselves were constructed of heavy, burnished wood, and had been thrown wide in welcome.
Aelys paused on the threshold and looked up for a moment, her eyes wide in appreciation before she stepped inside. Romik refused to let go of her hand and stepped in with her.
Inside, the sanctuary was dimly lit and filled with the sort of reverent hush that tingled along a man’s spine and made him speak quietly, if at all. The interior was one big room, but it contained six separate altars evenly spaced along the curving outer wall.
Immediately, Romik’s eyes locked onto the red-painted altar with its brazier embedded in the top. Coins of various denominations lay scattered about the top of the altar amid stubs of half-burnt votive candles.
“You should go and honor your Red Lady,” Aelys murmured beside him, squeezing his hand. “If you wish.”
“I will,” he replied. “If you will come with me. Then we can visit Daen’s Green Lady, and Vil’s Darkness as well. I don’t—” He broke off as the truth bloomed in his mind, confirmed by the tingling in the brotherhood mark on his right palm. “I feel strongly that we’re meant to stay together in this place. It’s like…I can’t explain it but—”
“In gratitude for Their gifts,” Vil said, his silken voice like cool water after Romik’s fumbling. “They bound us together, and so together we should honor Them.”
“Yes,” Romik said, throwing a glance at his brother. “Exactly.”
“Let’s go, then,” Daen said, though he didn’t sound impatient, exactly. Just…focused. “How does one honor Fortune Herself, Ro?”
“With small coins or fire, usually,” Romik said, stepping toward the red altar and gesturing at the votive candles. “Or in some cases, an offering of the supplicant’s blood. But really, it’s just about acknowledging that no matter what we do, we can’t control everything, and that Fortune does as She wills for reasons of Her own.”
He reached the altar and trailed his fingers along its edge. “Thank you, Red Lady, for the gift of my brothers, and my Bella,” he whispered as he pulled out his short utility knife. He put the tip against the heel of his left palm and pressed inward until a bead of blood welled forth. Then he pressed his hand against the warm stone next to the brazier. “I…”
Something not physical wrapped around him. As had happened when he swore brotherhood to Daen and Vil, he felt the weight of mailed fists on his shoulders, felt Her immense presence. His mind reeled, filled with the sudden admonition to never stop fighting to be worthy. The intertwined rings on his right palm burned, and he pressed that hand down on the altar as well.
“I will, Red Lady,” he breathed, blinking away the crimson haze that obscured his vision. “I will keep fighting. For them. For her.”
Slim, cold fingers settled on his bicep, bringing Romik back to the present. He blinked again and looked down at Aelys with a smile. Her clear blue eyes stared up at him in inquiry.
“I’m good,” he said. “Let’s move on.” He lifted his hands from the altar and noted that the tiny pinprick in his left palm had disappeared.
“All right,” Aelys said softly, turning her body. “Daen?”
Romik’s forester brother tensed and turned to walk the few strides required to reach the green altar. It stood next to the red, but instead of a brazier set into the top, it had a depression filled with soil, from which a handful of wrist-thick vines grew. These vines climbed over the wall behind the altar, creating an intricate, interlocking web of green leaves, sharp thorns, and tough brown stalks. Sunlight poured down on them, and as he drew closer, Romik could see the skylights cut into the domed roof directly over the altar.
Daen bent to pull a dipper of water from a basin on the floor next to the altar. He poured the water slowly over the base of the vines, his expression shuttered. Romik folded his hands at his waist and prepared to let his brother make his observances in silence, so he was a bit surprised when Daen spoke.
“Foresters honor the Green Lady because she is the source of all life,” he said, his tone reverent. “The spreading oak, the savage beast, the wildness in men’s hearts…these are all Hers. Predator or prey…it matters not. In the end, we’re all Her creatures, and we’re all connected.” Daen replaced the dipper and reached out to stroke one of the broad, flat leaves near the base of the vine. Then he pressed the pad of his thumb to the point of one of the wicked, curving thorns.
Unlike Romik, Daen didn’t speak as he smeared the resulting blood over the leaf and stalk of the vine. But based on the tingle in Romik’s right palm, he’d have wagered a fortune that Daen was communing with his chosen Divine about their brotherhood bond…and perhaps the broken bond to Aelys as well.
Daen let out a long exhale and turned, squaring his shoulders as he did so.
“Vil?”
“Not yet,” Vil said, still speaking shrouded in his hood. “Aelys, which Lady, if any, do you honor?”
Aelys blinked. “I…oh! All of Them, I suppose, in a way. Do you…” She tilted her face up and pointed to the mural painted on the inside of the dome. It depicted the two moons, Mother and Daughter, glowing in a dark sky studded with stars.
“Do you know the Parable of the Moons and Magic?” she asked.
“Refresh us,” Vil said.
Aelys smiled and let her arm fall. “Let me see if I can remember how it goes…Long ago, in a time before dragons, the Divines walked the earth in eternal twilight, dancing under the stars as They each followed their various interests. The Red Lady created fire and metal and built great mountains to please Her Cold sister. The Cold Lady dressed these creations in glittering ice and snow and created wind to cleanse and refresh the land. The Green Lady called life from the void, and dressed the land in forests and fields, populated it with beasts of all kinds. The Blue Lady created water for the beasts to drink, and great oceans to cradle and frame the lands, and the youngest sister, the Gold Lady, fashioned metal and stone into sparkling jewels, creating wealth and beauty. And the eldest sister, the Dark Lady, watched over all, shrouding the earth in Her protective blanket.
“But Her sisters began to worry, for the Dark Lady created nothing for Herself, only protected that which They had made. And so, They joined together to decide what was to be done. Together, They found where Their creative powers touched—the spaces between things. Where water met stone, or cold met life, places where Their powers combined. They took these overlapping forces and bound them together, until the force itself could function independently to create wonders out of their combined passions.
“This, then, was the first magic.
“But the Divines did not know what They had created. And so, They released this magic into the world, thinking that it would delight and amuse Their Dark sister. But magic without a will to guide it is unpredictable and chaotic, and soon the Divines found Their creations suffering as the magic continued to combine and build upon itself, growing ever brighter with power until it filled the sky and burnt through the protective blanket of Darkness, casting its burning radiance on everything below.
“The Dark Lady cried out in fear and pain, and Her sisters wept at the destruction They’d unwittingly wrought. They cradled Their Dark sister close, whispering words of apology and regret, saying that They wanted only to help Her know the joy of creation.
“The Dark Lady raised Her head, and buoyed by the love of Her sisters, she gathered Her power and spoke.
“‘I cannot withstand your combined power alone,’ She said, ‘but perhaps if we all combine our power and our will, we can build a balance between the soothing dark and the combustive passion of creation.’
“And so, the Divine sisters came together once again, linking Their wills together to bind the blazing magic into a pattern of days and nights. Illuminating the day, so that all that is might be known, and shielding the night, so that all that is might be protected. And then They created not one, but two more great lights to adorn the night. Because of the presence of Darkness in their midst, these lights lacked the unfettered blaze of before, but grew instead into the steady, cool balance of Mother and Daughter, the lights that guide us through the sea of stars in their precise rhythms and cycles.
“And when it was done, the Divines wept yet again in joy, for in creating the balance, They’d found the key to wielding magic. Magic must always be directed by will, for left unfettered, it will cause great destruction. But when bound to the will of the mage, it can be a force of great creation.
“Thus did all the Divines come together as one to be the Mother of Magic and set the moons in the sky to remind us of the lesson They had learned.”
Aelys fell silent, and the hush in the sanctuary wrapped around them as Romik considered her words.
“I had forgotten the full story,” Vil said quietly after a moment. “I haven’t heard it since we were boys, in the sanctuary in the village before it was burned. But I don’t remember it being this large.”
“We honored the Green Lady in the village,” Romik found himself saying, before he realized he’d even remembered that. “I learned about the Red Lady because arena fighters almost all favor Her.”
“Same. We thieves love Darkness for Her protective shadows,” Vil said. He reached out a hand to Aelys. “Would you like to come with me to thank Her?”
Aelys laid her hand in Vil’s gloved one, and Daen joined Romik as they followed their brother to the black, velvety curtain that hung between the blue altar and the cold, white one.
Vil held the curtain aside to let Aelys duck under his arm, then followed behind her. Romik and Daen ducked through as well, and the four of them stood pressed close together in the tight, dark space between the curtain and the altar that Romik was sure was there…even if he couldn’t see it.
“Darkness,” Vil murmured, his voice holding a low note of humor. “You of all beings know what’s in the depths of my black heart. And You know, too, what I will do to keep what You’ve gifted me.”
Romik shivered at the sudden edge of violent promise in his brother’s tone, but as before, his brotherhood mark tingled in his hand. It gave him comfort.
I suppose Vil’s relationship with his Dark Lady is his business, Romik thought. Just as with Daen and his Green Wildness, or me and Fortune’s bloody blades. But all three of Them made us brothers, and if Aelys’s story has any truth to it…all the Divines had a hand in binding us together, in a way. If magic belongs to all of Them, that is.
All of Them. All of us. They bound us to brotherhood and made it so that we could all be hers…I know I couldn’t imagine how we could all love her otherwise. But she needs us all, and we need her just as much. Now if only she would believe it.
They remained in that silent darkness for another moment or two before Vil inhaled sharply.
“Well,” he said a moment later, reaching past Romik to twitch the curtain aside and let the light flow in. “Shall we go?” He curled his hand around his left palm, but not before Romik caught sight of a small scratch on his dark brother’s palm.
The Dark Lady also accepts the blood of her devout, I see.
“Yes,” Aelys said quietly as she stepped out into the main part of the sanctuary. “I need to get back to Mell, but…thank you. All of you. Thank you for letting me be a part of your observances.”
“Of course,” Vil murmured.
“You’re part of us, Bella,” Romik found himself saying. “It wouldn’t feel right without you.” He followed her out, then looked back to see Daen’s eyes locked on Aelys’s face in mixed longing and anger.
“Daen?” Aelys asked, her voice tentative.
Their forester blinked, and stepped out of the dark alcove as well, striding past Aelys toward the door.
“We’d best get moving,” he said. “The road is waiting.”