Lorimal's Chalice
Part One - The Exile
by Jane Fletcher

 

Disclaimers: see Chapter 1

View Map



========================================
Chapter 6: The Mark of the Guild
========================================


        Serac was a busy town, centred around its port, with wide streets full of traffic. It was the first time Tevi had been in the Protectorate. The town was obviously prosperous and well-ordered, however it did not seem particularly noteworthy compared to other places she had seen - although she was not quite sure what she had been expecting. Most of her time was spent sitting on the harbour wall, watching boats bobbing on the water and smelling the heavy, salt-laden sea air.
        The mercenaries were paid off. Alentris bid the group farewell, taking contract as a guard on an outgoing caravan. Cade, however, wanted to visit Lyremouth and would still travel with them, although no longer as an employee. At Serac the traders also parted company with the horses and bought passage on a ship bound for Lyremouth.
        Marith had explained, "You can always find a buyer for the wagons, though you never make any real profit on the deal. But we can make a fortune selling the spice in Lyremouth, and the sea is the quickest way there."
        "Couldn't we take the horses with us?"
        "It would be too expensive."
        Tevi was unhappy saying goodbye to the horses. She had come to view them almost as friends. "Will they be alright?"
        "Oh yes." Marith had assured her. "They're too valuable for anyone to abuse."
        The party boarded their ship a few days later. Like all islanders, Tevi was a born sailor and felt at home with the pitching deck beneath her feet. However, she had never been on a ship the size of the 'Aspen Rover'. It dwarfed the tiny boats of the Western Isles and required teamwork unlike anything she had experienced before. Tevi realised her fishing experience would not qualify her for a career as a Protectorate sailor, and the time plan her future was getting close.

* * * * * *

        Nine days out of Serac, the northern shore hove into sight. It was a warm afternoon. Seagulls flocked above the wake of the boat, fighting over the pickings churned up by its passage. Tevi leant on the starboard rail, dividing her attention between the distant shoreline and the water racing past below. Kimal and Cade were beside her.
        Cade was speaking. "I was born and bred in Lyremouth. It'll be nice to see the old place again and it's about time I called in on my parents. They worry about me." He sniffed reflectively. "Can't say I blame them."
        "What's Lyremouth like?" Tevi asked.
        "Big." Kimal replied quickly.
        "Isn't the Coven there? Do you see many sorcerers?"
        "A few." Kimal shrugged.
        "What do they do?"
        "Just walk around, looking important." Kimal was at his most dismissive.
        "You don't get sorcerers on the islands, but we have lots of legends. I guess I'm hoping to see something spectacular."
        "Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Sorcerers aren't prone to putting on shows for people's amusement." Cade said laughing.
        "So how can you tell them apart from anyone else?"
        "Members of the Coven all wear amulets on their wrists, engraved with a pattern of oak leaves. Witches' are various colours, depending on rank. Sorcerers have a black amulet and the Guardian's is white, but there's little chance you'll ever see it. She rarely leaves the Coven buildings, except for festivals when she's surrounded by a swarm of guild-masters."
        "I'd still like to see some real magic." Tevi's voice was wistful.
        Kimal whooped. "You walk around with the strength of five men, and complain you don't see any magic!"
        "We all take the potion on Storenseg, and I've grown up with it, so I don't see it as anything unusual."
        "Do you have any other magic potions?" Cade asked.
        "No. And we only got the strength potion from a sorcerer who was shipwrecked on our island ages ago."
        "How about dragons or werewolves?" Cade persisted.
        "No. A sea-monster was washed onto the beach when I was a child, but it was half eaten and not very impressive." Tevi said.
        "And no magic users?"
        "No."
         Cade's eyes travelled to the horizon as he said, "It would be nice to be rid of them all."
        "Don't you like sorcerers?" Tevi asked with surprise.
        "I don't like thunderstorms, but they're unavoidable. It's the same with sorcerers. You just have to put up with them. The Coven is indispensable, but if it wasn't, I'd happily ditch the lot."
        "What's wrong with them?"
        "They're not like us. They're too bloody powerful and the few I've met have given me the creeps. Though don't get me wrong - as things stand I'd willingly die for the Coven. It's still a damn sight better than any of the alternatives." Cade's voice was resigned rather than bitter.
        "You sound like papa." Kimal said. "He says folk complain about the Coven and the taxes, but if they saw how the rest of the world runs they'd change their tune."
        "The places we've seen have been okay." Tevi pointed out.
        "The southern lands have been very quiet since a big bust-up fifty years back. And the border countries, like Walderim, are all under the sway of the Coven, even if they don't pay allegiance. Sorcerers born in these regions either come in to join the Coven or move further away so they can have a free hand to do whatever they want." Kimal explained.
        "What do sorcerers do elsewhere in the world?" Tevi asked.
        "Ruin the lives of ordinary folk." Cade rejoined the debate. "And have done since the dawn of time."
        "How?"
        "Building empires. They've enslaved people, conscripted them into armies, even used them for experiments. They've destroyed millions of ordinary folk who wanted nothing more than to get on with their own business - farming or hunting or whatever." Now there was definite bitterness in Cade's voice.
        "Couldn't people resist?"
        Cade shook his head. "A sorcerer is so powerful compared to ungifted folk like us. The only person who can do anything to stop one is another sorcerer, and the gods alone know how many have died in wars between them. They make the nastiest brawl I've ever seen look like a lover's tiff. And all for nothing - once the sorcerer dies their empires collapse back into anarchy."
        "Couldn't their children take over?" Tevi asked.
        "Hardly." Cade snorted.
        "Why not?"
        "They don't have the ability. Maybe one person in a hundred has limited magical gifts, but only one in a hundred thousand has enough to be a sorcerer. I don't think anyone knows what makes a sorcerer, but its not inherited. A sorcerer's children are no more likely to be gifted with magic than a labourer's." Cade explained.
        "The empires all rise and fall in the space of a lifetime." Kimal added.
        "Verron told me the Protectorate has lasted for hundreds of years." Tevi said.
        "The Protectorate is different. It's not dependent on any one sorcerer." From his tone, Kimal was clearly more sympathetic to the Coven than Cade was. "The Coven also leaves us alone, as long as we pay our taxes. They don't ask us to fight wars. They even do useful things, like training healers and weather-witches. We don't..."
        Any other advantages to the Coven were lost as a bucketful of water landed on Kimal's back, followed by a giggle from Derry. After a second of stunned shock, Kimal spun around He spotted his brother disappearing into the hold. Kimal shouted and chased after Derry, but there was a smile on his face. He evidently took the soaking in good part. Cade and Tevi laughed at Kimal's rapid departure
        "He's a nice lad." Tevi said, putting aside the conversation about sorcerers.
        "They're a nice family." Cade added.
        "True."
        "Will you be staying with them for long?"
        Tevi shrugged. "Marith and Verron have invited me to spend the winter with them."
        "Have you any thoughts about what you're going to do after?"
        "Not really."
        "You should join a guild." Cade said, seriously.
        "Which one? I'm a bit old to start an apprenticeship."
        "You wouldn't need to, if you already had the skills for the trade."
        "I'm not sure I have any worthwhile skills." Tevi said, sombrely.
        Cade chewed his lip for a while and then said, "Would you be interested in joining the mercenaries?"
        Tevi gave a humourless laugh. "My old weapon trainer would be utterly dumbstruck to hear you ask that. Back in my home village, I was considered to be the worst warrior of all time."
        Cade looked surprised. "There's a gang of bandits outside Villenes who'd disagree with that."
        "I guess being three times as strong as anyone else gives me an unfair advantage here."
        "You don't worry about fairness in battles - use every advantage you've got. Anyway, I know the guild would be pleased to have you."
        "Can anyone just ask to join?" Tevi said, looking at him.
        "No. You need to be nominated by a guild member. Normally it's the warrior you've been apprenticed to, but it doesn't have to be. And you weren't born in the Protectorate so you'd need two other citizens to vouch for you, but I can't see Marith and Verron refusing you that." Cade patted Tevi on the shoulder. "Think about it. If you like, I'll nominate you. You did alright with the bandits - certainly saved my neck."
        He walked away, humming softly to himself. Tevi looked out to sea, deep in thought.

* * * * * *

        The Aspen Rover reached Lyremouth harbour late the following evening. The autumn sunset turned the spires and rooftops of the city to a dull pink. Overhead the first stars were starting to show. The ship dropped anchor well out in the bay. It would not dock until high tide, early the next morning. Tevi and Marith leant against the railing and watched as dusk claimed the city. Silhouetted against the darkening sky was a forest of tall masts. Lower in the water were the squat shapes of river barges that had brought produce down the Lyre, from the hinterlands. Light from numerous torches burning on the dockside shimmered off the still water. Further inland other lanterns speckled the gentle hills rising behind the harbour.
        Marith pointed out some of the major landmarks.
        "Which is the Coven?" Tevi asked.
        "Out there to the right. It's the group of buildings on the south-east side of town." Marith pointed it out.
        "The Guardian lives there?"
        "Yes."
        "Have you ever met her?" Tevi asked.
        Marith snorted. "She doesn't mix with the likes of us. I did see her predecessor once, but that was in the days before he was elected Guardian."
        "A man can be Guardian?" Tevi said, stunned.
        "Of course. Why not?" Marith was amused.
        Tevi hung her head, trying to disguise her surprise. "Well... it's just, coming from the islands. I don't tend to think of men being in positions of power."
        Marith smiled. "The only thing that affects someone's ability to wield power is whether or not they're a sorcerer. It's the most important, if not the only, real difference between people."
        "On the islands we'd say the most important difference is between men and women." Tevi said thoughtfully.
        "That's silly. There's a few minor physical differences, but none of them amount to anything significant."
        Tevi stared down at the dark waters lapping against the hull of the boat. She could think of one area where the differences were very significant, but did not want to raise the subject. The traders had never commented on her lack of interest in the young men they had met on their travels, nor asked why she had left the islands, and Tevi was not about to risk their friendship by telling them.
        "My people would say that men are naturally inferior to women." Tevi said at last.
        This time Marith laughed aloud, "And that's even sillier. You can only get away with it because you don't have sorcerers. On the mainland any baby, male or female, born into any family, might grow up to be a sorcerer. It's a hard job trying to act innately superior to someone who can incinerate you with a single word."
        "I'm not trying to justify my people's beliefs; just trying to explain why I have problems sometimes."
        "I understand. You're doing alright." Marith reached out and squeezed Tevi's shoulder affectionately.
        "I can see that sorcerers create problems for hereditary rulers." Tevi said, although she had a gut feeling her grandmother would do fine, regardless of the political system.
        "The power structure of your islands could only work if everyone was basically the same."
        "But men and women..." Tevi let her sentence trail away, no longer certain quite what she still believed.
        "It doesn't count for anything." Marith stated confidently. "If ever you meet a sorcerer you'll see what I mean."
        Tevi decided it was wiser not to push the point. The two women remained on deck, talking quietly, until the last light faded and the city was lost to the night.

* * * * * *

        The traders found lodgings at a comfortable inn not far from the docks. They took a light lunch in the main room, seated with the other guests at a long oak table. Sun streamed through the thick glass of the windows, casting bands of green light over the floor. From outside came the sounds of the city.
        With the meal over, Marith pushed back her chair and stood up. "I'll go and finalise the sale of the spice." she volunteered.
        "I suppose you want me to see the guild auditor." Verron said with a heavy sigh.
        "Oh, go on. You love presenting the accounts." Marith grinned mischievously as she headed for the door, followed by Derry who eagerly leapt from his chair.
        "Can I come too?" he piped.
        "If you want." Marith held the door open for him and the pair departed, bound for the spice market.
        "Do you want me to come with you?" Kimal asked his father cautiously.
        "It wouldn't be a bad idea for you to see how the accounting goes." Kimal's face fell, and his father took pity on him. "But I know you'll have more fun showing Tevi around the city." He smiled. "I'll see you back here for supper."
        Tevi and Kimal accompanied Verron as far as the trader's guildhall. It was an imposing structure, with gabled roof and half-timbered walls. Fanciful beasts were carved into the stone lintels over the windows. The three parted company at the arched gateway and the younger pair spent the afternoon strolling around the streets of the city.
        There were wide tree-lined avenues, linked by narrow allies that twisted and branched, occasionally opening out into paved squares. Shops sold a bewildering array of goods. Tevi had no idea what much of it was. The size and wealth of Lyremouth overwhelmed her. All the guilds had halls, and there appeared to be some form of competition to determine which profession could out-do all the rest. She was also surprised to find there were no city walls, as if Lyremouth, or the Coven, were boasting of its impregnability.
        On one wide thoroughfare they were passed by an open carriage, complete with uniformed footmen. Sunlight sparkled off the inlaid gilt and polished wood. Tevi pointed at the passenger. "Who's she?"
        "It's 'he'. And he's the head of the potters' guild." Kimal replied. "You can tell from the crest on the door."
        Tevi watched the carriage disappear down the street, uncertain of whether the symbol related to the passenger's occupation or gender, or possibly both. Before she could ask for clarification, Kimal had disappeared into a shop. Tevi leant against a tree and waited for his return. After a little thought she was pretty sure the crest would be the mark of the potters' guild, like the crossed swords were for mercenaries. Tevi smiled ruefully, thinking it would not be such a bad idea if Protectorate citizens wore badges to proclaim their gender. She still had great difficulty telling the sexes apart. On the other side of the street a couple of young lovers ambled along, arms around waists. For the life of her, Tevi could not tell which one was the woman.
        Kimal reappeared, carrying a parcel, which he opened to display a tiny ivory figure of a horse - a midwinter's gift for his sister. He talked of her as they continued their stroll.
        "Arnet's been working up north, but she'll be home for midwinter. I can't wait to see her again, I've missed her."
        "Your parents have as well." Tevi had heard the ache in Marith's voice when she spoke of her daughter. Tevi was caught by the barbed thought that there would be no similar distress in Red's voice when speaking of her.
        Kimal carried on, oblivious. "Oh, I know, but Arnet was never interested in trading. Her only real love is horses - doesn't care about its shape or size. As long as it's got four legs and neighs, she's happy."
        "Didn't your parents mind her not becoming a trader?" Tevi asked, trying to forget her own situation.
        "Why should they?"
        Tevi smiled ruefully. "Where I come from it was the done thing. You had to follow in your mother's footsteps."
        "Like having kings and queens and things?"
        Tevi was about to correct the mention of kings, but it did not really matter. She nodded and said, "Yes."
        Kimal shrugged. "It wouldn't make sense on the mainland. Power is always dependant solely on ability. I guess the guilds mimic the Coven. All our leaders are elected by their members."
        "It's fair." Tevi could see the point.
        "And it makes sense. Anything else would be a very chancy way of arranging things. I mean, just because your mother or your grandmother were good at something doesn't mean you will be as well, does it? You might be absolutely hopeless."
        That was altogether too close to home, Tevi decided to change the direction of the conversation. She asked, "Do you have any other brothers or sisters?"
        "Mama and papa had two other children, but uncle Ged and his partner are their parents now. We'll be seeing them when we get home."
        "He adopted them even though their true parents were alive? Isn't that unusual?" Tevi was a little surprised.
        Kimal shook his head. "No. Happens all the time in the Protectorate. Obviously a lot of people won't produce their own children so they adopt any spare ones their siblings or cousins have."
        The 'obviously' did not follow in Tevi's experience, but much of what she was told about the Protectorate baffled her, and Kimal seemed to have a particular knack for throwing her off-balance. She was saved any further confusion by their arrival at the open parkland surrounding the buildings of the Coven.
        Once upon a time, when Lyremouth had been an insignificant village, the Coven had been located some way removed from the dwellings of ordinary folk. With the passage of years, Lyremouth had grown into a great capital, yet none of the new buildings had encroached on the land around the Coven. Tevi guessed it was due to nobody wanting the sorcerers as close neighbours rather than a sense of aesthetics. The buildings were nothing to look at, and the open panorama only served to emphasise it.
        The tower of the Guardian stood proudly in the centre, but the remaining structures were an unplanned jumble of styles and sizes. The walls were old and plain. When compared to many of the guildhalls, they seemed humble, even dilapidated. The few touches of elegance or grandeur appeared to have been tacked on as an afterthought.
        Tevi shook her head. "It's not as impressive as I expected. The temple at Kradja was more to look at." Her disappointment showed in her voice.
        Kimal grinned back at her. "When you're as important as the Coven you don't have to resort to awesome brickwork to remind people of the fact."
        To bear out his words, groups of travellers from across the known world were gathered at the edge of the Coven grounds, looking at the buildings with expressions ranging from apprehension to reverence. The onlookers even included a small party of dwarves, who babbled excitedly among themselves in their clipped guttural language. Nobody else could understand what they were saying but, judging by their actions, they were having an intense debate about the architectural virtues of the flying buttress.
        In the middle of the grounds was a low outcrop of granite. At its highest point it barely reached shoulder level, and it was dominated by an ancient oak tree. There seemed nothing noteworthy about the rock, yet many of those watching were giving it a great deal of attention.
        "What's that?" Tevi asked.
        "The Heart of the Protectorate. The spot were Keovan sat and looked out onto the world." Kimal replied.
        "Who was Keovan?" It was a name Tevi had heard before.
        "A sorcerer. He died 447 years ago. He lived in a hut on the site of the Coven. He sat every day on the rock and talked to anyone who would stay and listen."
        "He founded the Protectorate?" Tevi surmised.
        Kimal shook his head. "No - five of his students did. Keovan himself never did much, except bewail the state of the world and the futility of life. He felt very guilty about a lot of things."
        "Did he do much harm?"
        "None at all."
        "But no good either?"
        "He did - sort of. He was the strongest sorcerer of his day. His reputation kept trouble at bay, so the land around here had peace. After he died none of his students had enough ability to take his place. Everyone assumed the region would be swallowed up by another sorcerer's empire. But his students had gained a more expansive worldview from him, or something like that. They agreed to work together and swore a pact with the townsfolk of Lyremouth. Other sorcerers joined them, and that was the beginning of the Coven and the Protectorate."
        "And they kept the rock." Tevi grinned as she spoke.
        "Oh yes. It's used every year for a ceremony on midsummer's day. They all troop out here and guild-masters swear allegiance to the Coven on behalf of their members. Then the Guardian swears on behalf of the Coven to defend the Protectorate and help the citizens. After that, all the new sorcerers are introduced to the people. And then they stand on the rock and repeat the Guardian's oath and are given their black amulets."
        Tevi frowned. "I don't see what the sorcerers get out of it. If they are as powerful as you say, why don't they just take what they want?"
        Kimal looked thoughtful for a moment. "Not all sorcerers are power-mad maniacs. Before the Coven, a lot of them used to be hermits out in the wilds. You still come across them from time to time. The empire builders were always much more rare, but the ones who just wanted to sit in a cave and think about life used to let them get on with it. Then the Coven came along, and gave them a chance to talk to each other and write books. I think the Coven gave the thinkers something to fight for - thankfully. If the Coven falls the Protectorate goes with it."
        Tevi and Kimal stood for a while surveying the buildings. The walls did not seem to be in immediate danger of collapse, despite the concern of the dwarves. They eventually left the site and headed back through the winding streets of Lyremouth.

* * * * * *

        Verron and Marith were busy after dinner that night, totalling up the money and making plans for the final stage of their journey. Their work was interrupted by Tevi, who hesitantly entered the room, and slipped into a seat at the end of the table. The serious expression on her face caused enough concern for Marith to roll up the map she had been studying and for Verron to put down his pen.
        "Is something wrong?" Marith asked.
        "No... not really." Tevi said.
        "But?" Marith prompted.
        "I've been thinking."
        "About what?"
        Tevi took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush. "I appreciate the offer to spend winter with you, but... did Cade say anything about me joining the mercenaries, because I feel it's probably a good idea."
        Neither of the traders looked happy. Marith was the first to speak, "Cade mentioned it to us, since we'd have to vouch for you. Of course we're willing to do that."
        Verron eyes were fixed on the table as he picked at some wax that had been spilt. "If it's what you want..." His voice trailed off before picking up. "Not that there's anything wrong with the mercenaries' guild, but its members don't tend to reach a ripe old age.".
        "If I want to live in the Protectorate I should join a guild, else I'm stuck as an itinerant labourer. And, I fear, the mercenaries are the only guild I'm trained for." Tevi said, a little sadly.
        "We'd be sorry to part company with you." Verron's voice was sincere.
        "It needn't be forever. Once I'm a member, there's nothing to stop you hiring me officially - if you want."
        Marith brightened up. "That's an idea. There are so few mercenaries who know how to take care of a wagon team properly."
        "Then we'd have the waggoner's guild down our necks." Verron glared at his partner.
        "There's nothing to say a mercenary can't..."
        Before the discussion could get waylaid, Tevi interrupted. "So if it's all right with you I'll go and visit Cade at his parents' house tomorrow and tell him I want to join."
        The traders hesitated a second before answering.
        "Yes, of course."
        "We'll come with you."

* * * * * *

        Two mornings later Tevi stood on a riverside wharf. Autumn was advanced and her breath formed clouds of steam in the chill dawn air. The family of traders solemnly hugged her in turn before boarding one of the river barges. The boat would take them on the last step of the trade route, ten days up-river, to their home. Once everyone was aboard, the crew loosened the mooring rope and pushed the barge away from the dock.
        Verron called out. "You won't forget how to get to Cottersford will you? Once you're there, anyone will tell you how to find us. We're always at home for two months either side of midwinter."
        Marith added her voice, "And we always take the same route. At any other time of the year, you'll know where to find us. I hope we meet again soon, but if not, farewell Tevi."
        "Farewell Marith, Verron, and you too, Kimal and Derry." Tevi called back. The words sounded awfully final, but it was too late to change her mind.
        The barge soon reached open water and the oarsmen set to work. Tevi stood and watched until the craft was lost from sight amidst other traffic on the busy river Lyre. She turned and retraced her steps through the city.
        The working day was just beginning. Shopkeepers were removing shutters and setting out their wares. Customers began to cluster, ready to buy provisions for the day. As Tevi neared the centre of town, the noise level grew. Peddlers shouted their wares, rowdy groups of dockers headed for the harbour, children on errands raced by, calling to each other
        A wide, tree-lined street led Tevi straight to the largest square, in the heart of the city. The grandest civic buildings could be found there - the law courts, the mayor's palace. Standing proudly was the most imposing guildhall of all, displaying the wealth and prestige of its members. Without hesitation, Tevi walked up to the main entrance and entered, passing under the sign of two crossed swords in red and gold.

* * * * * *

        The point of the man's sword came straight for Tevi's heart. She managed to bring her own weapon across to parry, while pivoting on one heel to avoid the lunge. The sword missed by a hair's breadth, but her desperate defence left her hopelessly unbalanced. A long step back stopped her falling, however her opponent pressed forward his attack before she had time to recover and again she was forced to concede ground.
        The wall of the hall was not far behind her. Tevi knew she was running out of room to manoeuvre. In a bid to gain space, she launched her own attack, a series of sharp jabs. Her opponent evaded them easily and immediately shifted back into offensive mode. With lightning speed, the edge of his sword flicked upwards diagonally. Tevi blocked, at the cost of yet another retreat. She felt her heel touch the wall. Her opponent smiled, dropped his guard, and took six paces backwards, generously allowing her more space. Tevi took a deep breath and stepped forward. The man was extremely good, easily the most skilful warrior she had ever encountered. It was hardly surprising - he was the senior swordmaster of the Guild of Mercenary Warriors.
        Their eyes met. Again, the swordmaster raised his wooden practice sword and gestured with his free hand, inviting her to attack. Tevi clenched her teeth. She could not defeat the swordmaster by skill - he was quicker and vastly more experienced than her. Tevi's only advantage lay in strength. Dropping her left hand to the hilt of the sword, she leapt forward, swinging her whole body into a double-fisted stroke that caught her opponent by surprise. The two swords met with a resounding crack, striking close by the cross-guards. As ever, the swordmaster's timing was perfect, but he was completely unable to withstand the force of the blow. The impact sent the wooden sword spinning from his hand. It bounced off the wall of the training hall and skidded across the floor, finally coming to rest, some thirty feet away. The swordmaster treated it to a long, rueful stare while shaking his jarred wrist.
        From the far side of the hall came a burst of assorted noises - generally indicative of both support and good humour. The swordmaster scowled in feigned belligerence at the three other nominees sitting at the side. The sounds ceased, only to be replaced by three broad grins. Everyone knew the swordmaster was an amiable character, slow to push his rank and indulgent of high spirits in his pupils. He was consequently well-liked by all. Once a semblance of order had been re-established, the swordmaster turned back to Tevi and nodded thoughtfully.
        "Crude, but very effective." He granted. "You'll do."
        "Thank you, sir." Tevi said.
        "But it's risky to rely solely on strength. You must pay closer attention. I was able to catch you with some very simple traps. You can't afford to let your opponent get away with things like that. Watch and anticipate."
        One side of Tevi's mouth twitched downwards. "Would you be surprised if I said you weren't the first person to tell me that?"
        "No, but I'm surprised you haven't taken more notice of the advice." the swordmaster said sharply.
        "I try, sir."
        "Not hard enough. Your sword teacher should have made more effort to help you work out the problem. Generally speaking you've been well trained from an early age."
        "I started when I was three."
        "Quite right too. You'd be surprised at the number of wide-eyed hopefuls who arrive here. They have no training but think they can pick up a sword and become a hero overnight." He turned to include the other nominees in the discussion. "It's a point to remember - swords are like some musical instruments. If you don't start young enough you'll never develop the right muscles and reflexes. If a child hasn't started training by the age of seven and doesn't keep practising all the time their bodies are developing, then they'll never be anything other than average and a very poor average at that. So, if ever you get an untrained teenager begging and pleading with you to take them on as apprentice - don't. You're not doing them any favours, just raising false hopes."
        The other nominees glanced towards Cayell. It was no secret that she was the worst swordsman among them. However Cayell was unconcerned; her skills lay in other directions. Basic competence with a sword was all she aspired to.
        The swordmaster resumed his appraisal of Tevi. "You know, I'm loath to suggest it, but do you have any experience with a battle-axe?"
        "Some, it was..." The rest of Tevi's reply was drowned by shouts from the other nominees.
        "They're only fit for chopping wood."
        "Tell him you're a warrior, not a lumberjack."
        Cayell's voice came loudest of all. "Axes are only for warriors too stupid to work out which end of a sword to take hold of."
        "Ignore the hecklers." The swordmaster dismissed the objections with a wave of his hand. "It's true axes are unsubtle. They come down to how much force you can put behind them - which in your case is quite considerable. It was a classic axe stroke you used to disarm me. You're not bad with a sword but you can't structure your defence. With an axe you wouldn't need to bother."
        Behind his back Cayell was shaking her head vigorously. Tevi decided to talk to her later and gave a non-committal response. "I'll think about it."
        At that moment, the gong signalling the end of the morning session rang out. The swordmaster collected the practise weapons and dismissed the nominees, saying, "I'm going to pass you, Tevi. You can report to the assessor, after lunch. But I want to see the rest of you back here."
        The four nominees left the practice hall and filed through the maze of buildings. Long ago, the mercenary guildhall had been laid out to an elegant plan, which had been modified and added to over the intervening centuries. Very little of the original design now remained. It resulted in a bewildering network of passages, doorways and courtyards, sandwiched between the old and the new. Even after the best part of a month, Tevi still had great difficulty finding her way around. In contrast, Cayell seemed to have the entire guildhall mapped out in her head. She was never lost for direction, or for something to say. Her body was lightly built, but had an acrobat's balance and agility, which helped hold her own in the practice bouts. Her footsteps were silent, but her personality was loud. Despite her size, she was the undisputed leader of the nominees, and not just in finding the dining hall.
        "Down here, it's a short cut." Cayell called as she disappeared in the gap between two buildings.
        "Are you sure?" asked Perrin, an affable young man with the general proportions, and appetite, of an ox. His six foot six inches of solid muscle made him the strongest of all the nominees, apart from Tevi.
        "Of course - don't you trust me?" Cayell sounded hurt.
        "Well yes, but dinner's important. I want to be sure I'm in time for seconds."
        "And maybe thirds." added Rymar as he pushed Perrin down the alleyway.
        In the rear was Tevi. She studied her comrades' backs as they walked in single file between the two buildings. Cayell was completely lost beyond Perrin's bulk, though the high sound of her laughter drowned out his base rumble. Rymar was a head shorter than Perrin, yet broad shouldered and athletic. They were a good bunch, Tevi thought, although Rymar looked like he could be a hell-raiser when let loose. He was clearly on his best behaviour while being assessed, but the wildness showed at the edges.
        The four nominees emerged directly opposite the guild refectory. A steady flow of mercenaries streamed through the door. The air inside was thick with the smell of food, and the hubbub of conversation. The tables all held large pots of stew and trenchers of bread to use as plates. Tevi and the others wove their way down the hall to the table reserved for nominees. Referred to as 'the babies' table', it left them in no doubt as to their status in the guild. There were currently nine nominees for assessment. Apart from Cayell and Tevi, there was only one other woman, which, Tevi had discovered, fairly represented the male to female ratio of the guild.
        Once they had sat down, Tevi addressed the table in general. "What's so bad about a battle-axe?"
        "Poor image." said Perrin, who was squeezed into the place directly opposite her.
        Cayell joined in, a broad grin on her fine-boned features, "Don't worry Tevi, you're great with a sword. There are precious few nominees who've been able to disarm the swordmaster."
        "She didn't!" someone else said in disbelief.
        "She did." Perrin affirmed.
        "Even so, he might be right. An axe might suit me better." Tevi said.
        Cayell shook her head. "Women warriors who use axes are a stock joke character. As I said in the hall, axe-men tend to be warriors who are poorly endowed with brains..."
        Perrin butted in "Women are out-numbered in the guild, particularly as warriors. They usually specialise in a field that requires less strength..."
        Not to be outdone, Cayell cut back in. "...and more intelligence - like tracker or scout. Me, for example." She threw out her hands in an extrovert gesture that was met with good-humoured jeers from the nominees, and disapproving frowns from the other tables.
        "I've got the strength for an axe." Tevi pointed out.
        "You've also got brains, and you'll get work easier if you let people know it." Cayell said.
        "How does that follow?"
        Cayell stopped eating to explain. "Girls know they can't count on developing the full strength necessary for fighting - boys can't either, come to that, but they're more likely to. Most girls who want to be mercenaries try to specialise, as Perrin said. Being a scout is ideal. Women are often smaller and lighter so we make less noise. We can go further on less food and can withstand harsher weather. Women warriors tend to be girls who lacked the brains to do anything clever, but turned out lucky with the physique. Axe wielding just compounds the effect. No axe-man is expected to be a genius."
        "Which could all work to Tevi's advantage." Dale, another of the nominees, said thoughtfully. He was a lanky lad with a serious face masking a mischievous sense of humour. People looked in his direction with surprise as he continued talking. "Just think. In a battle, someone would see Tevi with an axe and think 'Oh yes, axe-woman - not going to be too bright'. Then Tevi could say something really clever and hit them while they were still stunned with astonishment. They'd be a sitting target." Laughter and a few flicked peas greeted this idea.
        "Someone told me that, in the Protectorate, you don't make assumptions about people based on their sex." Tevi said.
        For a moment Cayell's face looked a little blank, then she shrugged and said, "I suppose it depends on what assumptions. Sometimes you have to play the odds."
        "Like you don't expect people from over the Spur to be particularly alert." Perrin said - a playful dig at Rymar, whose accent marked him as coming from that region. Tevi's forehead furrowed in thought. The indolence of people from the east of the Protectorate was an item of folklore she had already encountered, yet Rymar was one of the quicker nominees - and astute enough not to rise to the bait.
        Cayell laughed and added, "Or sorcerers who specialise in prophesy. For some reason they all tend to be..." She paused with a frown on her face "Now, what's the word?"
        Suggestions came from around the table.
        "Neurotic."
        "Highly-strung."
        "Unbalanced."
        Cayell waved a piece of carrot. "No, no. 'Sensitive.' That's the word I wanted." She pointed the carrot at Tevi. "Now remember, if ever you meet a seer from the Coven the word is 'sensitive'. Unless you have some great desire to experience life as a toad."
        Tevi chewed thoughtfully, "But I guess nobody dares to call axe-men many names to their faces either."
        "Oh, as long as the word has more than three syllables you're quite safe." Cayell retorted.
        Once the laughter had died, the banter continued with a bawdy story about the 'mad axe-woman of Rizen'. Many of the jokes were lost on Tevi. She had not come to grips with all the necessary slang usage, but she got the general idea of the perception of axes and their users.

* * * * * *

        Once the meal was over Tevi left the others and managed to find her way to the guild assessor's quarters, needing only to stop twice to ask directions. The clerk in the anteroom informed her that the assessor was busy interviewing someone else. Tevi wandered back outside and stood on the low veranda at the front of the building, watching people passing through the courtyard below. It was a mellow autumn afternoon. The sun shone brightly on ornate stonework surrounding the open grass area. Seagulls wheeled against the blue sky overhead.
        Directly opposite the assessor's rooms was the guild infirmary. Many of the occupants had been placed in the open, to get what benefit they could from the sun and fresh air. The invalids sat on a bench running the length of the courtyard, tightly wrapped in warm blankets. Some laughed and joked among themselves, swapping stories and accounts of their exploits. Some sat in silence. Tevi studied a gaunt young man, no more than a year or two older than herself. Both his legs ended in stumps just above the knees. Next to him sat a middle-aged woman, one arm paralysed and useless, and the side of her face a scarred wreck, leaving her undoubtedly blind in one eye.
        Tevi was certain the location of the assessor's rooms, next to the infirmary, was no accident. All the hopeful applicants had to walk past the grim reminder of the fate that might await them. She suspected the warning had little effect. From what she had seen most mercenaries were over-confident of their own abilities, sure the worst could never happen to them. Many were blind to everything they did not want to see. They would not know or care where the infirmary was, until they were carried in. They were the ones who would begrudge the quarter share of their income the guild took; unaware of where the money went, until they became the beneficiaries.
        Ten minutes later the door behind Tevi opened and a tall mercenary strode out, followed by a young woman, presumably his apprentice about to be nominated for guild membership. Neither paid any attention to the row of people sitting opposite. Tevi wondered if that did not hurt more than all the scars - to no longer be worthy of notice.
        After a last, long look at the invalids Tevi turned and entered. The clerk pointed her to a small room at the rear of the building. She found the assessor, a stout, elderly woman, sitting in a high-backed chair at one side of a large fireplace. Despite the warm day, a few logs burned vigorously in the open grate.
        Tevi halted mid-way into the room, "The swordmaster told me to report to you, ma'am." she said hesitantly.
        "Ah, yes. Please." The assessor gestured to a second chair as she spoke, and waited until Tevi was seated before continuing. "I'm happy to say we've decided to accept your nomination."
        It was more or less the announcement Tevi was expecting but, instead of replying, she stared into the fire with a frown on her face. For a short while, only the crackling of the flames broke the silence.
        "You're not looking overjoyed. Have you had second thoughts?" The assessor prompted her gently.
        "No ma'am. I'm pleased you've accepted me. It's what I came here for. But I was watching the invalids opposite before I came in and I was thinking about them." Tevi turned to look directly at the assessor. "That's what we're supposed to do, isn't it?"
        "We would prefer our members join with as few illusions as possible. We get too many young idiots, dreaming of glory." the assessor said dryly.
        "I don't think I have any unrealistic hopes."
        "No, I don't think you have." The assessor watched Tevi thoughtfully for a moment before continuing in a brisker tone. "You realise, of course, that the assessment is not just about fighting skill. We could have evaluated that taking considerably less time than the twenty days you've been here. If you decide to join the guild, you'll receive its mark - a single sword tattooed on each hand. With that mark the guild is declaring that it believes you to be competent, honest and reliable." A smile twitched the corner of the assessor's mouth. "Although we're not yet backing our judgement with money. It will be some years before we're likely to guarantee you, and add the second sword."
        "I understand that." Tevi said.
        "It's important that the mark of the guild mean something. Our livelihood depends on people trusting the integrity of guild members. The time a nominee spends here constitutes part of a general appraisal, which has been all the more important in your case, as you haven't served a formal apprenticeship. But we're quite satisfied. In our judgement, you will not do anything to bring the guild into disrepute and we're more than willing to accept you as a member. The final decision lies with you. We don't allow people to desert the guild once they've accepted its mark. Those we expel leave their tattoos, and their hands, behind."
        The assessor stood up and walked to the small window. When she turned back, her voice was quiet and measured. "I'm going to suggest you think about it for this afternoon. Sleep on it, then come and see me first thing tomorrow. If you decide to join, we'll move you to the junior members' quarters. You'll need to be instructed in the first level of guild passwords, which shouldn't take you too long to learn..." The assessor rolled her eyes to the ceiling with a sigh. "...unlike some other nominees we've had. And we'll make an appointment for you with the tattooist. So.... unless you have any questions?"
        "No, thank-you ma'am. I think I know all I need in order to make my mind up."
        "However you decide, I wish you well."
        The assessor walked over and held the door open. Tevi gave a respectful nod and walked back into the autumn sunlight. Her aimless steps took her out of the guildhall and into the streets of Lyremouth. She spent the afternoon wandering about and thinking, although in all honesty she had little choice. As a mercenary, she could earn a good living. Without a guild, she could be nothing more than a poorly paid casual labourer.
        Standing by the main docks, she watched the ships sail out across the harbour and disappear over the horizon. If she closed her eyes, from the sounds and smell of the sea she could imagine herself back on Storenseg. It occurred to her that guild membership would be one further, irrevocable, step away from the islands. Tevi shook her head sadly at the folly of her thoughts and left the quay, heading into the busy streets of the city. There was no going back.

Continued in Chapter 7

original fiction index | xena homepage | what's new | amazontrails.com