Tinderbox, page 25
She flushed and her freckles stood out against the red. “You human males, only have one thing on your brains.”
Bram grinned. He raised Luana’s hand to his lips. “Thank you.”
Isbet knelt and embraced the dwarf miner. Luana whispered something to her that Bram didn’t quite hear, and when Isbet drew away she nodded and said, “Don’t worry, I will.”
Bram allowed Isbet to go first. Gaemyr was complaining about something and Isbet shushed him several times. Bram started the climb soon after. Tamrath. He was home. He only hoped his being there wouldn’t bring trouble to his family and that Wilhelm would understand. He had said he trusted Bram. Now Bram would see.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Isbet learned that they were not traveling to the palatial estate, but in fact to a cathedral a few miles outside of Bishop’s Lane named the Cathedral of the Three. Churches were not a place that Isbet liked to be.
“What will you do?” Gaemyr asked.
“I suppose I must find other accommodations.” Isbet had dismounted and moved away from their tiny group. She grasped Gaemyr.
“Isbet, are you coming?” Bram called quietly to her.
“My apologies, Highness, but….”
A confused expression crossed his face, and then he said, “Oh, I see. Listen, it’s all right. You are a friend of the church.”
They entered through the church gardens to a postern gate. A robed monk was there to greet them. He clasped his hands and bowed low. “Your Most Revered Archbishop, we are pleased to have you here.”
“Is my brother here?”
“Yes,” the monk said.
Bram turned to Tamair, “Thank you, Captain, for everything.”
“My pleasure, Highness.” Tamair then turned to Isbet and held out his hand. Isbet laid hers in his and he kissed it. “And thank you, Lady Isbet, we are in your debt.”
“You are no such thing, Captain. Your friendship is all that I require.”
“Then you have it.” Tamair turned and bowed to Bram once again.
“If you will follow me, Highness,” the monk said.
Isbet hesitated as she gazed at the monk. To her surprise, he looked right at her. “You have done a great service to this church, and you are welcome here. No harm will befall you,” he said.
“Recall I absolved you, Isbet.” Bram reached out his hand. “Do you trust me?”
Isbet placed her hand in his. “Of course.”
Perhaps because Bram was a man of the cloth and this was his church, Isbet felt a measure of trust with him and that she wouldn’t come to harm. He was the first person to invoke such feelings in her.
The cathedral itself was immense, but they seemed consigned to the back hallways as they walked. Isbet didn’t have any idea where they were going until the monk said, “We have prepared your living quarters, and there is food and a fresh change of clothes for you.”
“Thank you, Father.”
They passed a few servants in the hall who would bow or wish them good evening. Their eyes were full of secret merriment as though they were pleased to be in on some grand scheme.
They stopped at a cul-de-sac of doors, reminding Isbet of Wicayth. An indoor fountain stood in the center of the open circle. Isbet looked it over with mild interest. The sculpture was of the Triune. Father and Mother stood embracing the Child, who poured water from a decorative urn.
The monk paused before the center door. “I will inform the Patriarch of your arrival. He is in the chapel praying for your safe return. Archbishop, we are all happy to see you again.”
“It’s good to be home.” Bram embraced the old man. “Thank you.” He turned and grinned at Isbet. “I have guest quarters next to mine…if you like.”
Isbet arched one brow. “What makes you believe I’d want that?”
Then came that familiar blush. Bram turned and opened the double doors. The furnishings were modest as Isbet expected for a man of the cloth. The room was to Bram’s taste, not ostentatious.
An acolyte was in the sitting room, setting up trays of food. She straightened and bowed to the monk. “Your Most Revered. We have prepared the guest room for milady and baths for you both.”
“My thanks.”
“With your permission, milady, if you would please follow me.” She bowed again and motioned with her hand towards a door to her left. Isbet walked behind her and waited until she opened the door. It led to another central area, where a food tray had been set up. When the acolyte escorted Isbet into the bedroom, a bath was also waiting.
An acolyte’s robe lay on the bed. “I am sorry, milady, it is all we have here. I hope the size suits you?”
“It’s fine,” Isbet said.
“If there is anything else you need, please summon me by pulling the cord.” She nodded to the cord attached to the ceiling by the bed.
“I will, thank you.”
She bowed again and exited.
“I suppose this place will suffice,” Gaemyr said. “And won’t you look divine in that robe?”
“Oh, stuff it.” Isbet tossed him on the bed.
“My, aren’t we cranky?” Gaemyr was silent for a moment. “By the by, concerning Prince Greyward, you have my approval.”
Isbet halted as she lifted the robe up. “And that means what?”
“You’re very aware of what.” Gaemyr gave an exasperated sigh. “You tell him I said to see that you’re not injured.”
He was silent after that. Isbet smiled and mimed a kiss to him. He responded with a less-than-true harrumph.
* * *
Bram grinned when Isbet entered the sitting room. For the first time, she felt her own cheeks go warm. “This was all they had on such short notice,” she explained.
“I see.” Bram raised his eyebrows.
Isbet harrumphed that time.
Moments later, there was a knock and one acolyte opened the door. A man dressed in the rich robes of his station stood there. Despite her having been in Tamrath before, Isbet had never seen the Patriarch face to face.
Bram was off the couch and went to embrace him. Seeing them, Isbet felt her throat tighten. It reminded her of her grandmother and the close relationship they had had. It was not one of true affection between relatives, but a mutual respect of teacher and student. But sometimes Isbet had gone to her because of some sadness or illness and her grandmother had been there to comfort her. So perhaps it was more.
“This seems so familiar.” There was a sob in the Patriarch’s voice.
Bram stepped back and smiled at him and at the tears running down his cheeks.
“Please tell me you’re staying this time,” the Patriarch said.
“Jaryl….” Bram embraced him again. “I’ll try. I promise.”
The Patriarch’s gaze fell on Isbet with a mixture of curiosity and welcome.
Bram turned. “Patriarch Jaryl Greyward, may I introduce the Lady Isbet.”
Patriarch Greyward moved across the room and went down on one knee before her. He took her hand and kissed it. “My Lady, I and Tamrath are in your debt.”
Isbet shook her head. “You are not. You and your brother have given me your friendship and you have not judged me, which I appreciate.”
Jaryl released her hand and stood. “We have a royal sorceress and diviner here. We do not shun people who have the Gift. Please don’t let experiences color your perception of the holy orders.”
“I will not,” Isbet assured him. “You both have my utmost respect.”
“I thank you.” Patriarch Greyward turned back to Bram. “Let us sit and talk, dear brother. Aune will be here soon.” Jaryl said to Isbet, “Aune is our cousin. She now holds the title of Mother Superior, but I’ll wager you’ll get along.”
“Oh?” Isbet smiled. Her gaze darted to Bram and his blushing was her reward.
Bram and Jaryl began to talk, catching up on all that occurred since they had last seen each other. As the conversation continued, Isbet sat, speaking only when Bram asked questions of her. Isbet had thought several times of leaving them in private but neither had asked that of her. She realized she had made the right decision when the Patriarch said, “After they took you, I sent out more spies into Rhyvirand. They say Wilhelm is once again preparing his army to march.”
“Morwynne.” Bram rested his chin on his closed hand. “I gave the Dhar and Dharina my word that I wouldn’t let any harm befall their kingdom. They gave me my freedom for it.”
“From what you’ve told me,” Jaryl said, “he is beyond reasoning with.”
“What else may I do?” Bram said. “I want to at least try.”
“What do you think, Lady Isbet?” Jaryl asked.
“That Wilhelm is beyond saving,” Isbet said, “but if I know our Arch-bishop, he will try anyway.”
“I must,” Bram said. “If it is true, if he is beyond rational, then I will use whatever means in my power to return.”
“You must take great care.”
They looked towards the door when a knock sounded. Another acolyte opened it from the outside and a woman stepped in. She wore a nun’s wimple with plain white blouse and leather trousers.
“Aune!” Bram ran into her embrace. He lifted her up, swung her around and kissed her on the cheek.
“Welcome home, Arch-bishop.” Aune took his hand and led him back to his seat. Then she turned to Isbet. “And you must be Lady Isbet.” Aune held out her hands as she walked towards Isbet. Isbet raised her hands in response and grasped Aune’s. “Have these cousins of mine thanked you? I think we both know how forgetful men can be.”
Isbet grinned at her. She liked her. “They have, Mother Superior.”
Aune released her hands and placed a finger on Isbet’s cheek. “Call me Aune. Now, don’t I seem rather young to be a Mother Superior?” Before Isbet could reply, Aune said, “We must find something more appropriate than those awful acolyte robes. I have the perfect thing. Come to my quarters.” She grasped Isbet by her hand and pulled her up. “What an interesting staff. Is it the sentient?”
Isbet looked back at Bram and the Patriarch.
“Don’t worry, you know Aune will take care of you, Isbet,” Bram said.
“That,” Aune said, “and Coline wishes to meet her.”
“Coline is here too? We’ll need her to send a message to Morwynne,” Bram said.
“You tell me, my dear cousin, and I’ll relay it.”
As Isbet followed, Aune talked about how glad she was Bram had returned and thanked Isbet for her part in it. “We hope you both can stay, but did Jaryl tell you of the rumor that Wilhelm is on the march?”
“Yes,” Isbet said.
Isbet expected Aune’s rooms to be sparsely furnished with little decoration, until she saw it for herself with its homey touches, warm colors, and shelves lined with books. Aune continued to converse with her, while rummaging through chests and closets, settling finally on an outfit like the one she had worn when first meeting Queen Aimeli, save it was in black with silver trim.
“This should do!” Aune pointed to another door to her left. “You may change in there.”
The outfit was a bit tight on her, but it worked well enough. Isbet was in no hurry to meet with Coline, but she figured she should get it over with.
After leading her through several corridors and down a flight of stairs, Aune stopped at a single unadorned door and knocked. An acolyte opened the door a crack. Unlike the others Isbet had seen dressed in the royal colors, this young man was all in blue. “Greetings, Mother Superior. Mistress Coline is expecting you and the Lady Isbet.”
Isbet realized this young man was more than an acolyte and in fact was Coline’s apprentice, and a sorcerer. When Isbet stepped across the threshold, she drew in a deep breath. The room itself was bare except for two curtains on either side blocking off sections. In its center there was a Diviner’s Globe. Isbet had never seen one used by sorcerers. She coveted one, but only a privileged few received a divination from them.
Like a normal globe it was set in a circular holder, allowing it to turn in any direction. At first glance, it was translucent marble. Floating in the center were blobs of metallic blue and gold, dancing and entwining. Runes carved in the polished gold of the holder seemed to flicker with their own light. The script wasn’t one Isbet recognized, so she figured it was a language known only to the sorcerers. Each branch of the Gifted had their own secret dialect.
“Please wait here while I ask Mistress Coline to join you.” The acolyte shuffled off and disappeared behind the curtain to the left.
“Amazing,” Isbet said.
“I’m told it’s called a Diviner’s Globe,” Aune said.
“That is correct,” Isbet said. “It’s a rare and powerful talisman of magic.”
“So I gathered.”
There was movement to their right as the acolyte appeared and drew the curtain aside. The woman who stepped between the silk folds took Isbet back to the guard that had greeted them on the shores of Morwynne. She was dark and muscular, her hair in myriad braids like Isbet’s, except they swept the floor. The acolyte gathered them up and held them like a bride’s train. Like her apprentice, the woman was all in blue – overcoat, shirt, and trousers, although her feet were bare.
She stood at least eight feet tall.
“Giantess.” Isbet breathed the word.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Gaemyr said.
The woman’s dark gaze fell on Gaemyr. “And why would you say that?”
Isbet figured this was one of those cases where discretion was the better part of valor. She bowed, keeping her gaze lowered. “We have seen one of the giant’s blood only from far across the land, mistress.”
“We are rare,” Coline said. “You are Lady Isbet?”
“I am at your service.” Isbet could feel the woman’s power, much greater than hers, charging the air.
“So,” Coline said, “should I kill you now?”
“Coline!” Aune said.
Isbet kept her gaze down. “I could not stop you, mistress.”
“Wait,” Aune said. “What is this?”
“The witch knows what this is,” Coline said. “Did you believe I was unaware of your presence?”
“I—” Isbet said. “I had hoped you would ignore me.”
“Well, I did not,” Coline said.
“Coline? Please tell me what the matter is,” Aune said.
Coline’s voice softened. “I am sorry, Aune. Would you trust me? This is something between the witch and me.”
“She saved Bram’s life,” Aune said. “She brought him back to us.”
“I know,” Coline said. “I take that into consideration.” Her attention came back to Isbet. “Does Bram know?”
“Yes,” Isbet said.
“Then I suppose that is something,” Coline said. “Do you recall our attempt to rescue Bram? This witch and her actions are why we failed. Although I don’t know why she did such thing.”
“That – that was you? You told Wilhelm’s guards where Bram was?”
Isbet raised her head and met Aune’s gaze. “Yes. I had my agenda, but now things are different.”
“Different?” Aune’s brow furrowed, then it seemed realization dawned, and her eyes sparkled with knowing. “Oh, I see.” She grinned. “So, Coline, I believe we owe Isbet our forgiveness, do we not?”
“If that is your wish, Aune,” Coline said. “Although I believe we should punish her.”
“You’ll do no such a thing!” Gaemyr challenged.
Now Coline’s gaze fell on the staff. “And what do you propose to do?”
“Protect her,” Gaemyr said. “I will keep her from harm, even if I have to give my soul to do so.”
Coline’s lip upturned. “And so you would.”
“So, the staff is sentient,” Aune said. “I thought as much. I can see the life within it.”
“With all due respect, Mother Superior….” Isbet wanted Coline’s attention away from Gaemyr. “The prince has absolved me.”
“He has?” Aune said. “Then why are we still discussing the matter?”
If Isbet liked Aune before, this had her completely taken.
“Coline, Bram needs you to contact Morwynne.”
“I have tried before and their diviner has turned aside my efforts,” Coline said. “She and I are almost similar in skill.”
“Her name is Marjani,” Isbet said. “Tell her you speak for the prince and Isbet.”
“You have befriended her?”
Isbet nodded. So did Coline. She sat before the globe and motioned for Isbet and Aune to join her. “You will come with me, Lady Isbet.” Coline placed her hands on the globe. “Do as I do.”
Isbet placed her hands, palms flat, on the globe as well. She hadn’t expected it to be warm. Coline closed her eyes and began to whisper an incantation in what Isbet supposed was a language of the sorcerers. The colors moved faster, flickering like flames. They expanded to fill the whole of the globe, blurring, turning into smoke, swirling and bubbling for a few moments, then like the clouds after the storm, they cleared.
The image was that of the Riven Isles as the giants viewed it from Up Above. Coline moved the globe with a gentle motion of her fingertips and the land rushed by, past the provinces of Vine, Bale, Avynne, Rhyvirand, and Morwynne.
“Stay by me.” Coline joined with Isbet’s consciousness, as though taking her hand, as they approached Morwynne. “Lady Marjani.”
Isbet had the sense of standing behind Coline and moved to stand next to her.
“Speak to her, Isbet.”
“Lady Marjani,” Isbet said. “It is Isbet.”
There was a hesitation. “Isbet, prove to me that it is you.”
“You know me,” Isbet said. “You know Gaemyr.” Isbet touched her staff to the globe surface.
“Ah, yes,” Marjani said. “We worried until we received your message from the selkie—”
