The Guild (24 page)

One of her brows raised. “You’ve never apprenticed to a cook in the Hospitallers or the Bakers Guilds, have you? Because that was a very bland description.”

“No, I haven’t. I grew up in the Hydraulics and Mages Guilds, right here in Heias Precinct,” Alonnen admitted. “I know I had a sheltered childhood compared to most mages elsewhere and that I haven’t suffered nearly as many hazards, though I have seen them, and the results of them.” He reached over and cupped his fingers over her hand. “You have my admiration for all you’ve survived, Rexei. You truly do.”

She looked down at his hand, wondering once again at how he could be such a . . . a
touchy
person. Just as he started to pull his hand away, she released the menu booklet and turned her palm over, twining her fingers with his. She blushed as she did so, and she didn’t quite meet his gaze, but she held his hand. “Thank you, Guild Master.”

A
lonnen felt his heart thump a little stronger. It was an odd sensation, but not entirely unexplained. Between her blush and the way she returned his touch, he wondered if she had unspoken feelings for him. The strings he had pulled during the Consulate meeting had been necessary in his view, because he believed she really was going to be a force to be reckoned with in relation to the coming demonic plague. He didn’t know how, but he wanted to give her what advantages and recognitions he could in preparation for it.

This, however, was much more personal. He knew he tended to reach out physically to a lot of people; it no doubt sprang from growing up in a very loving, protected family. Because of his position, a lot of people did not reach back in equal measure. Those that did, he treasured. But this, the willingness of her hand entwined with his, touched him deeply. Instinct said that showing it, however, would do more to scare her away than keeping silent.
So he diffused the moment by focusing on something a bit more trivial, yet still important.

“Nonsense
,
” he dismissed, waving his free hand. “You’ve never really been in my guild. At least, not very deeply into it. And look at you,” he added, gently squeezing her fingers. “You’re a Guild Master yourself! You’re now my equal, and I’ll have nothing less than that out of you. Call me Alonnen, as my equal. Or call me ‘Tall’ outside of sheltered zones.”

She looked up and around at the sybaritic brothel room. “This isn’t exactly a sheltered zone.”

“Actually, it is,” Alonnen said. He tapped the table. “My predecessors had the wisdom to invest in land in the Lessors Guild, and to involve themselves in the Architects and Masons Guilds, and with the Woodwrights. As a result, there are certain buildings—this being one of them—that are very carefully warded to hide all traces of magic taking place within. Moreover,
this
building—which has been a brothel for hundreds of years and has from time to time been the seat of the Guild Master for the Whores Guild—has had each of its rooms spell-warded for sound as well as magic.

“We’re almost as safe here as we would be back at the dam, save that there aren’t several layers of sentries on guard. Still, in exchange for keeping up the spells and the wards, this particular establishment lets us use these rooms as a temporary bolt-hole. Not often, and only for a few days or in a few rooms at a time, but that’s the deal,” he told her.

Rexei could see how that would be a good deal. Before she could say anything, however, her stomach gurgled. Alonnen smiled wryly.

“We don’t get more than one meal a day for free, but the food’s worth paying for. Let’s order a Nutty Chicken and a Creamed Salmon,” he proposed, squeezing and releasing her hand. “That way, if you don’t like the one, you can try the other. They serve a
really good barley soup, too, and there’s a greenhouse on the roof so they have fresh greens to go with it. Big Momma
swears
by fresh greens for reinvigorating the libido in winter.”

Rexei narrowed her eyes, watching him rise and head for what she realized was a small, wire-connected talker-box by the front door. Just like that, he had gone from being labeled nearly sexless to being very male once again in her mind. “And just how would
you
know what Grandmaster Bertha claims about . . . you know?”

Swinging around to face her, Alonnen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. The movement ruffled the curls tied into a short tail at his nape. “You know, Longshanks, I’ve seen this in other female mages, and I can understand why so many think this way, but I was hoping
you
were smart enough to think past the fear. Rexei . . . there is a whole
spectrum
between gelded asexual male on the violet side of the rainbow, and bestial, brutal rapist on the red side.

“
Most
men are somewhere between yellow and blue. I’m about as green as they come—I have a libido, I have an interest in sex, and I find many women to be attractive. My brother happens to find both women
and
men attractive, but he’s green in hue, too,” Alonnen explained. “Neither of us are going to grab and violate any partner, but neither are we going to castrate ourselves, literally or otherwise, just to pretend our need to be touched, held, and pleasured doesn’t exist. It does.

“
Your
needs exist, too,” he said, pointing at her, wanting her to understand that, and that they weren’t anything worth fearing. “They might be smothered by the many problems you have seen so far, but you have every right to know what it feels like to be hugged and held, to be kissed and . . . and so forth.”

This time, he blushed, trailing off for a moment. Rexei didn’t look very feminine, but then again, a lot of women around the Heias Dam tended to downplay their femininity, simply because it
meant less hassle for them in the public areas whenever the priests came by to collect mandatory tithes and such. But there was something about her that . . . Sighing, he dragged his mind firmly back into safe territory.

“Unfortunately, this conversation is heading in a direction I don’t believe you’re ready to discuss in a calm state of mind,” Alonnen said. “I do think you are cute as a button and as smart as a piston engine, but unless and until you should feel the same, whether it’s with me or with anyone else, that’s as far as it should go. I will repeat that you’re as safe in my company as if . . . as if one of us were a pet dog, worthy of a few pats and a cuddle-hug and some positive attention, but that’s it. And if you fear anything more than that, just say so. As it is, as soon as Gabria gets free of the Consulate and comes over, she’ll swap places with me, and I’ll share a room with one of the other lads.”

Turning back to the door, he moved up to the talker-box and began turning the crank-handle to charge it.

Rexei watched him place their dinner order, face warm and mind racing over his words. She could not remember the last time she had been complimented by someone who knew she was female. A couple of times her gender had been uncovered, but the comments made during those moments of discovery had been insults, not compliments. Multiple times someone had complimented her as a male . . . but some of those had been just as awful in their own way. The rest of the time, she had ignored the good ones, since underneath her attitude and her disguises, she was still very much a female at the end of each day.

And here I am in a brothel with . . . with the first man I’ve been interested in,
as
a man, woman to man, since . . .

A knock on the door startled both of them. Caught in the act of hanging up the cone-shaped earpiece that allowed a talker-box operator to hear what the person on the other end was saying,
Alonnen fumbled it onto its hook, then glanced at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then the rhythmic rapping was repeated. Relaxing, he nodded.

“I didn’t catch the pattern the first time. That’ll be Gabria.” A step to the right allowed him to grasp the doorknob and pull the solid panel open. The blonde woman smiled at him, opened her mouth to speak . . . and her gaze drifted to Rexei beyond his shoulder. She froze, eyes widening in fear.

It was the first time anyone had looked at Rexei in fear, and Rexei didn’t know what to make of it.

“Is something wrong?” Alonnen asked his assistant. He glanced over his shoulder at Rexei and the rest of the room, but he couldn’t find anything alarming in it. Looking back, he watched as Gabria shrunk in on herself, huddling in her knit tunic. “What’s wrong?”

Swallowing, Gabria looked down the hall, as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

He stepped back from the door, giving her room to enter, guessing that she didn’t want to talk about it in public. “Come inside.”

That only made her eyes widen further. She shook her head and moved back. “Uh . . . I’ll . . . just go find another room . . .”

Frowning, Alonnen stepped into the hall, letting the door almost close behind him. Mindful of the potential for eavesdroppers, he spoke under his breath. “Gabria, what’s wrong? You’re acting like you’re afraid of Longshanks. You’re supposed to be sharing this room with her tonight.”

“She . . . she’s with one of
them
,” Gabria hissed, eyes still wide and wary.

On the other side of the door, inside the room, Rexei ghosted up to the panel as quietly as she could. She had seen the other woman’s fearful stare and wanted to know why she was upset.

“What do you mean, one of
them
?” Alonnen asked.

“A
God
,” Gabria hissed, shuddering inside her coat. “I can’t
even
think
about . . . about
Him
, and you want me to . . . to spend the night in a room with
her
?”

“Gabria . . .”

“No! I’m going to Marta’s,” his part-time assistant asserted. “I’ll spend the night with her. Where I’ll be safe!”

Movement by the stairwell resolved itself into the faces of two familiar men. Alonnen lifted his chin in brief greeting, but he kept most of his attention on the woman in front of him. “Gabria, Guildra isn’t the same as Mekha.”

“You don’t
know
that. And frankly, I don’t
want
to know. I’m going to Marta’s, and that’s
that
.”

“Then at least let me and Ohso walk you there,” Alonnen compromised, meaning one of the other men who had accompanied them to town. Hearing his name, the fellow raised his brows and headed their way.

“I don’t need a keeper,” Gabria retorted, folding her arms across her chest. “It’s not
that
far to her tenement on the west side of town, and once I get there, her building is . . . you know. I’m not a sheep, needing to be shepherded every step of the way.”

“I know you’re not, but if you slip and fall in the snow, you could lie there all night with a broken leg, and nobody would know,” he countered. “I’ll not have you die of exposure. And he and I can keep an eye on each other on the way back.”

“Actually, Mark and I can go with her,” Ohso offered, coming close enough to hear Alonnen’s words and to guess the rest. “There’s a gaming house between here and the westside we were thinking of visiting anyway, so we might as well just walk her to her friend’s place and hit it on the way back.”

Alonnen suppressed a sigh. “Set aside money for your suppers and breakfasts, and don’t bet anything more than what you actually carry. And don’t get caught cheating if you use . . .” He wiggled his fingers to indicate magic. “Try not to cheat at all.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Ohso joked. “How else am I going to retire into a castle of my very own? Join the flippin’ priesthood? That won’t work anymore, you know.”

Gabria’s mouth twitched into a smile, but it was a weak one. Sighing out loud, Alonnen flipped his hand at the trio. “Off with you, then—when dawn comes or when the storm stops, ascertain if the streets are passable, and be here within an hour of that. Report in by talker-box if it takes more than a day. Other than that, have a good night.”

Nodding in farewell, the pair departed to pick up Mark on their way out of the brothel. With a sigh, Alonnen closed the door. “Bloody hell . . .” He put his back to the door and leaned against it, eyeing Rexei. “How much did you hear?”

“Why is she afraid of me?” Rexei asked. Then winced, realizing it was a stupid question, given their whole culture.

Seeing her wince, Alonnen nodded. “Exactly. Gods. She doesn’t trust any of ’em. She won’t be the only one, either. I’d said a good sixty, seventy percent of most mages will look sideways at you, and a good chunk of the rest of the population will, too.”

“Yes, but I am a . . . one of them,” Rexei hedged, not quite willing to call herself a mage openly yet. “Anything I could believe into existence would by logic
have
to avoid all that holy manure we’ve been forced to swallow all these years. Guildra is not like that, because I, too, couldn’t stand the thought of it being like that.”

He reached up and rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a supportive little squeeze. “I believe that, and you believe that . . . but some people, like Springreaver, just won’t believe it until it’s sunk into their very bones. And that can only take time to accomplish, Longshanks. Give ’er time. Spread the word of what Guildra stands for and what She stands against, and give it time.”

“Well . . . sorry to chase away your girl,” Rexei offered awkwardly.

Alonnen blinked at her. “My what?”

“You . . . and her aren’t . . . ?” she asked tentatively.

“What? Oh no,” he quickly denied. “Not in the least. I’m not her type, she’s not mine, and I haven’t dated anyone in a while. It’s not a good idea for the Guild Master to court anyone within his or her own guild anyway. At most, it’d be someone on the periphery, and Gabria’s been one of my close assistants for a few years now—inner-circle close, not intimate close,” he clarified.

“Oh.” She felt strangely relieved to hear that. Her face felt hot. Moving away from the door, she shrugged. “Well, I’m glad. I mean, that I didn’t interrupt any plans the two of you may have had. Third wheel on a motorhorse, and all that.”

She’s blushing?
Alonnen thought.
Why would she blush
after
I said it was alri—Oh.
Grateful her back was to him, he felt his own face heat a little. Carefully
not
clearing his throat, for he didn’t want to sound awkward himself, he did his best to explain smoothly and simply his own reasons. “Well, as the Guild Master, it’s important not to take advantage and important not to seem to be taking advantage. There are rules and all that. But . . . when I was still a journeyman, apprenticed to the previous Guild Master . . .