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Much later, the horses attended to, Breia and Terrano had indeed caught up with the villagers. Twilight settled over the village. Lively music played, and old and young swung partners in dance. The phallic pole stood resplendent among the revelers, its paper ribbons fluttering in the heat of bonfires lit around the square.
Breia lounged against the tavern wall, having lost her place at the long table. She sipped warmed wine and closed one eye to focus on Terrano. Challenged to an arm-wrestling match, he had assessed the risk and made a substantial bet. The raw youth who had challenged raised coin from his friends and matched Terrano’s stake. Others had joined in the betting, and now a noisy crowd surrounded the table where the combatants had claimed space.
Breia knew his technique. Had laid a bet of her own. Terrano’s lean form belied his strength. If he put coin on the line, it was fairly certain he’d win. Two years of riding with the Diamond Dogs had taught her much. His face contorted in a fierce grimace, and his biceps bulged. She gri
“Yours, I believe.” He dropped two gold coins into her palm. “I thank you for your faith in me.” She inclined her head in gracious acknowledgment. Before she could suggest utilizing the wi
A gradual hush fell over the square. Terrano took the goblet from Breia and drank, watching the ritual. The drumming stopped. A lone piper began a high, sweet melody. The girls formed a circle, moved to the edges of the crowd and began a weaving dance in and out of the line of young men who stood at the front. A fiddle and a flute joined the piper, and before long the drums began again. At the full crescendo of the music, the girls unfastened their mantles and each singled out a lad. The music stopped abruptly. Mantles flew. As each gay mantle settled around the shoulders of a young man, the girls stepped away, hands clasped behind their backs and eyes downcast.
The lads glanced around the crowd. Some gri
Terrano rolled his eyes. “Fools! Going so meekly to the mantle. Hardly more than boys, yet committing themselves to support a wife-and a babe before the year’s out.” He shook his head. “No experience of life, nor their options. Blind fools.”
Breia pursed her lips and glanced at him sideways. “What of the warm bed and the home, to say nothing of the care and affection? Mantling is good for a man, especially these village lads. Most of them will live here all their lives.”
Terrano snorted. “Or run away to sea when the squalling of babes and an acid tongue greet them each evening. I’ll settle for an occasional warm bed.” The begi
He gri
Two weeks after Breia and Terrano’s joint sojourn, all of the band except Keenan had completed their lists. Breia’s last kill still haunted her. A ragged and pathetic young whore, dying from her disease, a dead infant lying in filth at her side. Wrestling with her conscience, Breia had taken several days to complete the mission. Eventually, she smothered the girl with her own greasy pillow and vomited outside the shack until her eyes watered and bile dripped from her nose. Memories of the thin body twitching beneath her hands filled her nights with shame.
But it was over. The list was done, her future secured. Breia ran her fingers down the blade of her sword. She poured a dipper of water onto her whetstone and began the careful process of honing the weapon.
“Keenan’s back.”
Lost in her thoughts and the scrape of metal on stone, she started at the voice behind her. Terrano dropped to the bench beside her and leaned his elbows on the scarred table behind him. “We can be gone from here in the morning.” He sca
“So where to next? Any ideas?”
Terrano grunted and stretched out his legs. “Tag’s making noises about the northern lands.”
“And you?” Breia kept her eyes on her sword. “I heard tell you were run out of the north. Something to do with the Temple Tribunes, I believe.”
He narrowed his eyes. “So Tag talks in his sleep, does he?” She squinted down the length of her blade and frowned. Terrano chuckled. “The Tribs don’t last long. The Temple is a hard master. I doubt I’d be recognized now.”
“And the priestesses?” Breia sheathed her sword and tucked the whetstone into her pack.
He sighed. “Gentle does, with the curves of the Divine Witch herself.”
“And Divine Carra
“The slide? Hm. Who would have thought that the old corpse-waker was building a helter-skelter?” Terrano barked a short laugh. “A desperate attempt to shore up his reputation-gain the approval of the townsfolk.”
“By providing a costly toy for their children,” Breia said thoughtfully. “The metal alone is worth much coin, not to mention the work that’s gone into bending it around that tower.” The chute had arrived in sections, and workers had this day assembled it, fastening and smoothing each length of the slide with the help of a metallurgist’s spells. The curved slide spiraled its way from the top door of the tower to the bottom, encircling it several times like a giant silver serpent.