The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens) (17 page)

It was only after they had finished looking through all the contracts did Adelai finally let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She had been both expecting and dreading for the King of Sarcopia to send in a demand himself, despite Saleia’s assurance that this would be showing his hand too deliberately. She was relieved. She did not look forward to being under contract to King Garrant, though it would have been the easiest route to ferret out information.

“These three seem to be the most satisfactory,” The high priestess said with a sigh, laying down the final sheaf. “The decision now comes down to your own personal preferences, Adelai.”

Carefully, Adelai studied each of the contracts again, though she had already studied them countless times in the last few hours. Her first instinct had been to reject the first contract, though others who know her position might have chosen that as the most desirable. It was true that the Jackal’s being a general might mean he shared the same circle of comrades and friends as Thornton, which would increase the chances of seeing him more often. But the Jackal had also been responsible for much of the destruction and devastation that had happened in Highrolfe, and her blood ran cold at the thought of being with someone who had caused such untold grief. It was he who had ordered the burning of the defenseless town of Schrede, and he who had sought a truce at Arcfax but then went on to slay the whole town to ensure no one, innocent or guilty, child or soldier, escaped alive. Also, he was talkative when drunk, and it wasn’t likely that he would be entrusted with important secrets.

It came down then, to choosing between two contracts. Being shrinemaiden to a wealthy and powerful merchant might afford her greater leisure among the people, where she could scout out those who were discontented at the king much easier that way. On the other hand, his circle of influence might not be as much as what was claimed, and she might not be able to find access to the king’s court after all.

The Earl of Sevrigne might be the better option. As the king’s cousin by marriage, she would be guaranteed contact with many of the other courtiers and nobles close to the king. But if the Earl was no better than King Garrant, it might not be so easy for her as that. It might put her at even closer contact with the king than she might want, and Adelai knew she did not want a repeat of the gardens with King Garrant. She suspected that being a shrinemaiden would not exempt her from his cruelty, if he wanted to.

She was silent for nearly a quarter of an hour, reading and re-reading the contracts. Finally, she looked up at the high priestess. “I think that the Earl of Sevrigne’s contract would be most suitable for me.”

Saleia nodded, and Adelai sensed that she was pleased at her decision. “Had I been given the choice I would have done the same.” Se reached out and patted her hand reassuringly, another rare smile flashing across her wrinkled face. “And perhaps soon enough you can see the captain you love again.”

Adelai reared back, her mouth falling open in an attempt to deny her feelings, but the high priestess’ eyes read her too well.

“Inne-Anneah Herself knows that I am not one to be judging,” the woman said, “I have been the keeper of this temple for many years now, and I have seen many girls succumb to heartbreak. This is not an easy business, my child. Take what little happiness you can get, find those moments whenever you can. But it has never been an easy business.”

Adelai knew then. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She asked. “It was you who first suggested that the captain be my trainer, not the king. Not Thornton. But why?”

Intelligent lavender eyes regarded her for a long moment. “Do you know why all girls with violet eyes are thought to be marked for the Temple of Inne-Anneah, child?”

Adelai shook her head, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation.

“It was thought that those with violet eyes are said to be the most sensual, most capable of being taught the arts of love - the most capable of loving too much. Inne-Anneah Herself is said to have violet eyes. As the head priestess, it is my duty to see that each girl that passes through these walls are safe, and satisfied. And as for you….”

The silence was deafening, and it lasted for several minutes, before she spoke again.

“I said before that you reminded me very much of me at your age.” Saleia said candidly. “And as thanks for what you are doing for the king, I thought the both of you should enjoy a little reward in gratitude, for all it is worth. Now go, Adelai, You have much packing to do.”

The high priestess had said very little to her in the day and a half leading up to her departure. Adelai knew that there were a lot of other things the woman was going to oversee… things that she was not privy to, no doubt. Adelai had no idea how long this scheme she had with King Belair had been brewing, and she suspected it was even longer than she thought.

She was summoned one last time to the office to be given the rest of her instructions. “One of Belair’s contacts will be in touch with you when they can. They will be presenting you with pink lady slippers, six all in all, so be on the lookout for them. In the meantime, you must keep your eyes and ears open for any sign of trouble.”

Adelai herself had not been idle during this time. She had thought to brush up on as much as she could about Sarcopia as their library could provide. The cultures and customs of all the kingdoms had been a daily part of their instruction as apprentices, and she had also went ahead and devoured all the books she could get her hands on, not satisfied with such moderate knowledge.

She knew that Sarcopia was unrivaled when it came to pikemen and phalanxes, used to fighting in the plains and forests as much as the wood-strewn Atalanteans boasted of the finest archers. Copper and coal from nearby mines had allowed the kingdom to be one of the richest in the land, although the previous war and the threat of another had tempered the flow of trade as of the moment. The average Sarcopian had served several years in the army as part of their tithes, and their military was easily the largest among the nations. Most led simple lives as farmers and cattle-raisers. The women tended to be more conservative when it came to their clothing than the Atalantean woman, often donning veils and headdresses that marked their ranks. Great significance was placed on status, and deference was given accordingly. To marry or mingle above one’s station was unheard of, and violaters often stigmatized, even exiled in rare cases.

Adelai brought many more books with her, in case she desired more information. She was fairly confident however, that she could easily adapt to the Sarcopian way of life from everything she’d studied. The clothes she brought with her were tasteful and adhered to the conservative custom, though she kept several of her favorite dresses, knowing that fashion restrictions were eased when it came to shrinemaidens.

It was two days later that Adelai found herself in the same position as her other sisters had: riding in a carriage bound for Sarcopia. As always, a small retinue of soldiers and bodyguards rode along with her, but as Adelai had only an aging female companion along to help her with her dress, and who dozed off frequently, she had spent most of the trip in quiet contemplation. Other noblewomen might have brought along a dressing-maid, but the shrine’s policy had always been to select one from among her future household once she arrived, and so the old maid would return to Atalantea along with carriages and soldiers after she had been delivered safely. These roads were well-traveled and therefore well-patrolled, so potential ambushes were unlikely. Still, security around her was tight. Shrinemaidens were considered a certain kind of commodity, if an unusual one. In three days, she knew, she would reach the borders that separated Sarcopia from Atalantea, and while she thought she should be more nervous than she was, she was surprised to realize this wasn’t the case. She had made one decision long before she had seen any of the contracts; her decision to go to Sarcopia, if only to be comforted by the knowledge she would be a step nearer to Thornton.

Her oath ceremony had been conducted earlier that week. Because many of Adelai’s friends had already departed, it was easier to keep up the subterfuge, leaving out many of the details of the ceremony. Adelai swore a vow to be adept in the services she would offer to all future patrons, and to do nothing to besmirch the name of Inne-Anneah for as long as she remained a shrinemaiden. She was not asked, however, to swear a vow to keep all her patrons’ secrets, or to remain neutral in all politics of the land. King Belair himself attended the ceremony, a move he did not bother to keep hidden, which lent much credulity to the affair.

Captain Thornton Altfyre did not attend.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sarcopia

The earl of Sevrigne lived in a splendid house inside Sarcopia’s capital city of Arbentide. The proximity of one’s manor to the castle, located at Arbentide’s center, also denoted one’s status and accompanying proximity to the king, according to the history books Adelai had read. That the earl’s was among those bordering the palace walls said much about his position. Adelai had prudently decided to keep the windows of her carriage covered, though from time to time she sneaked a look outside, to stare at the buildings and people that walked past, without herself being seen. It came as a surprise to see that the people of Sarcopia didn’t look as different from those back home, and it saddened her to think about the fighting and the suffering that came from war, between people who truly had no real quarrel with each other than the politics of the day.

Her arrival in the city had not come unnoticed, either. The carriage she rode on was marked with the Temple of Inne-Anneah’s sigil - an outstretched golden dove - and those familiar with such symbols knew what it contained. A number of people thronged the streets to gawk at the carriage and the horses as it rumbled by, at the bodyguards on either side, riding at attention. If most were unaware of the temple’s colors, then the soldiers alone would have told them that someone important had come to the city. Perhaps the earl himself had informed the others of her arrival, and the news had spread. After all, Adelai thought wryly, there was no use contracting the services of a shrinemaiden if everyone and their mothers were not aware of the fact.

The earl’s manor was easily twice the size and height of its nearest rival, almost like a small castle itself. The man himself was standing just outside his gates, surrounded by his servants and guards. He was a tall, older man not yet past his prime, with a serious, handsome face and keen brown eyes. The only indication that he was older than he looked was the slight thinning of hair along his forehead, peppered by alternating shades of white and gray. Beside him stood a younger man, easily identified as his son by the physical similarities to his father’s, and not more than eighteen or nineteen years of age. Unlike his sire’s open, gentle face, his was scowling and angry, and he stared at her the way a wolf might watch deer.

“Welcome to our humble abode, my lady.” The earl announced in a low, pleasant voice, as the coachman drew the doors of her carriage open. He stepped forward, and Adelai accepted his hand to step out. A low gasp rose from among the onlookers when she emerged.

Adelai had planned her dress carefully, stopping by a nearby inn to don these changes, aided by her chaperone. She wore a beautiful gown of embroidered lace against fine indigo silk that complimented her eyes. Small pearls were sewn into the cloth, contrasting against the richness of the brocade, and the corset she wore hugged her body and rounded her breasts, which her neckline covered only enough to display their fullness but hide most else. It was a simple enough dress, little else stitched into the cloth as there would be with some of her other more opulent gowns. Adelai knew that many people in the city were accustomed to seeing the riches and jewels of the nobles, and so selected a much more demure, simple gown that hugged her curves and showed off her figure to its utmost. To highlight this stringency, the maid had woven small garlands of purple roses into her hair, each lock artfully designed and trussed.

“Thank you, milord.” Adelai said softly. She was glad that her manner and voice hid the small butterflies still in her stomach. “I am honored to serve.”

“I am Allan, and this is my boy, Daken.” The boy glared at her. “Please, allow me.” After the man offered her his arm, they made their way inside the manor, and Adelai knew the news would soon spread over the city, that a shrinemaiden has arrived to take up her contract with the earl of Sevrigne.

A large bedroom had been provided for her during her stay. While it had none of the homeliness of her old quarters in the temple, it was a beautiful room, with ornate wooden carvings and gold-gilded furniture of the highest quality. “It’s beautiful.” She laughed when the earl asked, “I think I will love staying here.”

“I am glad.” The earl said, with a smile. “It must have been a tiring journey. I have assigned one of my servants, Millie, at your disposal, for your stay here. Feel free to rest for as long as you like; supper will be served in a few hours. I am sure you will have a lot of questions, which I will only be too happy to answer afterward.”

He left after a small bow, and with little ceremony. Adelai had heard from other older shrinemaidens that many masters were often selfish and inconsiderate despite the standard protocol expected - sometimes a few even so bold as to demand their services as soon as they arrived. Adelai was grateful that the Earl was not disposed to act that way, though her curiosity was growing by the minute. The earl did not seem like the kind of man to avail himself of a shrinemaiden, even when he could afford it. Was she then purely for ornamentation, a sign of his status?

The young maid named Millie arrived promptly, a slim waif of a girl but with round apple cheeks, and was soon helping Adelai store the rest of her dresses and toiletries, before helping her out of her dress. “Milady,” She said shyly, “My master has instructed me to draw you a bath in the next room.”