One (The Godslayer Cycle Book 1) (5 page)

“I did not catch
your
name, milady,” Nathaniel interjected, hoping to turn her attentions away from Bracken.  She had never taken her eyes off him, even as she had spoken for Bracken's intended ear, and as such it was fairly obvious that it was he she wished to speak with anyways.

The woman started all the same.  The question had taken her unawares for some reason.  Perhaps she had thought Nathaniel would be cowed by her presence or just thought that none should ever address her without her leave to do so.  Regardless, she responded without losing much more than a moment's time.  “You may know me as Lady Brea, Imery's faithful servant.”  The answer was obviously one she had fallen back upon by rote.

Nathaniel nodded agreeably.  “And if I wanted to know what to call you by if I were to be other than knowing of you?”

This question shook the priestess far more noticeably, her face flushing in response before she could turn her head to hide the shock.  It was well known that priests of the New Order adopted new names when they took to their preachings.  It had something to do with separating their worldly selves from the bodies through which their Gods worked.  Nathaniel's question breached the formal etiquette of a meeting with a priest entirely.  By asking her given name, it lessened Brea's stature as a priestess, and suggested a more familiar privilege than that which a common man might be entitled.

“Li-Lillian,” the young woman stumbled awkwardly as she turned her face again to look into Nathaniel's.  She was apparently unused to using her own name, which suggested she had been a priestess and only a priestess for some time.  Even more unusual was that she had answered at all, since priests of the New Order rarely acknowledged having a past before taking up their stations.  In truth, Nathaniel had anticipated her avoiding the question, but as she had answered, he intended to use her forthcoming to keep the young woman off balance.

“
Lillian.”  Nathaniel sounded the name.  “You should not have changed it.  That name suits you better, I think.”

Brea was flustered, uncertain how to respond and shaken visibly by the comment.  Finally, her face blushing even deeper, she said simply, “You flatter me.”  The words lacked any strength of conviction.

“If you say so.”  Nathaniel paused, waiting upon the woman to speak next.

Brea shuffled from foot to foot in the awkward silence, averting her eyes like a shy school girl.  Her reaction did not escape Bracken's attention, either, as he shook his head in silent disbelief.  Nate had always had a peculiar effect upon women, able to woo even the least receptive to his side if he wished to.  Since he had married, Bracken had not seen the man exert his charm and the dwarf would have thought the talent gone.  Yet here was the same giddy, uncomfortable demeanor he had seen so often in the town's womenfolk whenever they had dealings with Nate Goodsmith.

This was a strange response even for Nate's unfathomable allure, though.  Clergy of the New Order did
not
fawn over young country boys, no matter how charming.  There was always the predictably stoic mannerisms, the adherence to proper form and function in everything they did publicly.  Although Bracken knew firsthand that clergy folk were just as prone to the vices he offered through his establishment as any other customer, these were always pursued in privacy, out of the public's eye.  A priest may practice the crudest deviancy behind closed doors, but to the public, they were always prim and proper, above reproach.

Lady Brea had been in town the better part of the eight day week and she had not diverted from practiced formality, as far as Bracken could have seen.  And considering she stayed at the inn, he had seen her at all hours, and knew what went on, or rather what did not go on, behind her closed door at night.  She was clean of all the common vices, even alcohol!  No, she had remained prim and proper in all aspects during her entire stay.  Until now, that is.

Well, she either be high on somethin' she picked up ou' there now or Nate 'as gotten a bit better at wha'ever it is he does wit' women
,
thought the barkeep.

“
I, uh, I seem a bit...  unclear...  as to why you would feel the need for such flattery,” managed Brea at last, trying to regain her composure while coyly looking at Nathaniel out of the corner of her eye.  Unconsciously, her fingers ran along the collar of her silken robe, ever so lightly touching the skin of her neck.

“
No need,” answered Nathaniel.  “Just speaking the obvious as I see it.”

“
You...  you would not be trying to...  turn my eye, good sir?  You should know that I am no common wench you can bed and...”

Nathaniel held up his hand, bowing his head slightly.  “I am spoken for, milady.  I have a wife and child, and would never stray.  I assure you, I meant nothing of the sort.”

Brea stiffened as though struck, her hand jerking away from her neckline.  Obviously, she had been entertaining some rather specific thoughts and Nathaniel's rebuff, however polite, was not what she had expected.  “You would make a fool of me.”  Her voice had lost its momentary gentleness, her eyes taking on a cold chill as she glared once more at Nathaniel.

“
Not at all,” Nathaniel responded, sincerity and surprise evident in his voice.

Brea walked up to the man until her face was mere inches from his own, her hand resting upon his chest, nails extended against his shirt.  She actually stood several inches shorter than Nathaniel and it was only the distance allowed by their differences in height that separated them at all; she had left no space between their bodies.

“I could have you, if I wanted to, wife or no.”  She spoke softly enough that she had obviously intended only Nathaniel to hear.  She had not accounted for Bracken's acute dwarven hearing, who by virtue thereof heard the whole exchange.

“
I could annul your marriage, take you as my own.  I could even brand your wife heretic so none would ever again welcome her at their door, much less their bed.  You would be wise to not spurn me the next time you play at rousing my attentions!”  To emphasize her words, she lightly drew her nails across his chest before turning and moving purposefully across the room to the stairwell there.  In short order, she had disappeared into the upper story, where a short while later a door could be heard slamming closed.

“
I do no' be thinkin' I 'ave ever seen a priest o' the Order so flustered afore!” scoffed Bracken.  “But I would be mindful o' her words.  She could do everythin' she says an' worse.  Religious types 'ave free run o' the land these days an' none woul' stop 'er if she took a mind ta do as she says.”

Nathaniel smiled wistfully as he stared after the priestess.  “She did act oddly, didn't she?  I wonder why...”

The dwarf silenced the man's inquiries with a slap on his back.  “Ya
always
wonder an' the answer's always the same!  She 'ad an itch for ya, Nate, an' I do no' think ya 'ave seen the last o' her either.  I would no' take her for the quittin' type an' she di' no' act much like she woul' put ya out o' her mind soon as she left!”

Nathaniel turned to his friend.  “You don't honestly think she would harm Mari and Geoffrey?”  The look of alarm reminded Bracken of the real fear his human friend lived with every day.  This was the reason Nate lived in the wooded lands and not in town.  He had lost his mother to a fanatic and he could not bear the thought of losing yet another loved one to the New Order's madness. 

Bracken could only shake his head.  “I honestly could no' say, though if I were ta lay a wager 'pon it, I would favor her lettin' the matter drop afore it reached such a point.  A' least so long as nothin' 'appens ta stir the pot an' twist the knife deeper.  Ya stung her, whether ya meant ta or no, and she still be a flesh an' blood woman under those robes.  She is likely ta carry a grudge, an' I'd aim true methinks if I were to say she would still be willin' ta try again to persuade ya ta bed down wit' her.  But to go further?  I'd be thinkin' if ya played it safe and avoided a meetin' wit' her again, ya'd not have much more to worry 'bout.

“
Which brings up the matter o' of how long ya
do
plan on stayin' in town this time?”

Nate sighed.  “No more than a couple of hours, if it can be helped.  I really had not planned to come into town today at all.  But I was restless...”

“An' Mari sent ya to town to get some peace an' quiet,” Bracken finished.  He motioned Nathaniel to a seat at a table near where they had been talking, and then took the seat opposite.  Mornings were usually slow and the dwarf could typically spare some leisure time away from his chores.  This morning had so far been little different.  Aside from Nate and Brea, he had had only two other patrons, only one of which still lingered in the back of the room.

“
Something like that,” admitted the taller man.  “I did have some furs to barter.  The trapline's been doing really well lately.  I even managed to catch a swampcat, though the Old Gods...  I mean, Fate only knows why it had wandered so far afield.  The nearest bog has to be a hundred leagues away.”

Bracken gave a knowledgeable nod.  He had been through the marshland in question long ago, on his journey to Oaken Wood, though he did not feel it important to mention it to Nate.  A dwarf guarded jealously the entrances to his domain, and detailing the path by which he had come to this town would have breached that tradition.  Some habits, even those towards a people he no longer lived among, came hard to break. 

“'Tis peculiar, no doubt.  Yet its rarity will likely fetch ya more than a fair price.”

“
Yes,” Nathaniel nodded.  “Ren has always treated me fairly on the pelts I've sold him in the past, and this time was no exception.  He often jokes that I'm a cornerstone of his trade, and it'd put him out of business if he didn't treat me fair and I went elsewhere.  And he always does seem to pay me honestly, as if I might really take my furs elsewhere if he paid me less, even if there were another barter in the valley or within a handful of leagues, for that matter.”

“
Be tha' as it may, ya 'have always 'ad good fortune in whate'er ya put your hand to, Nate.  And many are the local boys what 'ave eyed yer good fortune wit' envy.  I 'ave 'eard talk that ya might be some kind o' warlock wit' magic aidin' ya, but I do no' think anyone puts much real stock inta such things.”

“
Fortune, huh?”  Nathaniel looked off to some point unseen in the distance as he reflected inwardly.  “I'm not so sure I would call it fortune.  I've lost my fair share and I've certainly never gained wealth no matter how good my luck turned at any given time.”

“
Fah!  There are other kinds o' wealth aside from coin an' stone, Nate, and ya fair ta overflow in the bounty o' it, whet'er ya woul' admit ta it or no!”

“
Perhaps,” the dwarf's companion shrugged.  “But I've a bad feeling that something's coming that's going to change all of it.  And good fortune or not, I don't see that I'm going to be able to escape the hard times to come...”

“
An' wha's tha' supposed to mean?” queried the barkeep.  It was not like Nate to talk this way and it set Bracken's nerves on edge to hear it.  “Does this 'ave somethin' to do with why yer so restless today?  Why ya 'ave come into town ta see me?”

Nathaniel was silent before he responded.  “I had a dream last night,” he said at last.  “I was in darkness.  I could somehow sense I was underground, buried beneath a tree with only my feet above, and that they were covered with leaves.  Don't ask me how I knew any of this, I just did.  Then someone came and pulled me up like I was a wooden board.  I could not move, but I could see that there were three men there and that I was somehow now between someone and these other three.  Somehow the three men could not find this other man so long as I was there, even though the man was right in front of them.  Again, don't ask me how.  When the three stopped looking for the man I was hiding, the one who was holding onto my feet, he said something...  important.”

Nathaniel paused and Bracken realized how intently he had been hanging on every word of his friend's recital.  “Well, wha' was it 'e said?”

Nathaniel sighed.  “He said, 'One.  So, if you're the first, how many others are there like you in the world, I wonder?'”

“Eight,” came a response from the back of the room where Bracken's other patron had sat all but forgotten while Nathaniel and Bracken had conversed.  As the two looked to the sound of the feminine voice, they could see the figure lightly riffling through a deck of cards.

Bracken seemed visibly startled to lay eyes upon his solitary guest, as though he had not known she were there at all.  His wooden gawking left it to Nate to respond to the interruption.  “Your pardons, milady,”  said Nathaniel.  “Were you saying something regarding our conversation?”

Something had chilled Nathaniel to the quick as the strange woman had spoken.  He could not deny that.  Perhaps it had been only an off-handed comment about a card in her deck, yet somehow the word was so perfectly timed as to be anything but coincidence.  It was as though Nathaniel somehow knew the answer already and the words from the stranger only echoed his own deeply buried memory.  Somehow, this stranger had reminded him of some detail, some element of his dream perhaps, which he had not recalled until that very moment.  The response had just seemed right, remarkably and inarguably the absolute truth.