by Amy Hopkins
He reached out, putting his hands on her shoulders. “They’re scared, and exhausted, and sick, and bloody tired of being scared and exhausted. One night off won’t hurt, and they’re already volunteering—eagerly, I might add—to help set everything up.”
Julianne risked a glance over to Artemis, but he was off in his own world, counting something on his fingers while he whispered calculations to himself. May was watching them, though, hands clasped and eyes wide. “Please, Master Julianne?" she said. “It’ll be so much fun!”
Faced with the wide, adoring eyes of a twelve-year-old, Julianne couldn’t help but cave. “Fine. But this nonsense about me being some kind of guest of honor?” Danil blushed guiltily at that. “That stops now. Alright?”
“Damn, you drive a hard bargain. You have my word, I will not say one more thing to anyone about you being a guest of honor. I promise.” He jerked his head at May and left, the young girl skipping out behind him with a wave.
It was only then that Julianne realized she hadn’t asked what he’d already said about her role in the festival.
CHAPTER NINE
“Form three! Now drop! Up! Preseeeent arms!” Marcus barked the orders at his guard crew relentlessly. “Hannity, lift that bloody weapon up properly. It looks like a limp dick hanging out.”
“Sorry, Sarge!” Hannity jerked his spear up so it neatly lined up with the ones on either side of him. He grinned, flicking his unruly red hair out of his eyes. “It’s nice and stiff now!”
“Now, this is our last practice left before we’re on display in front of the whole town.” Marcus ran his eyes over the line of soldiers. “I know you’re all new at this, and I know you’ve all been working hard. But this is our chance to show off what you’ve learned. And what’s that?”
“Protect and serve!” The cry rang out along the line in perfect unison. “Bravery in the face of danger! Hoorah!”
Marcus raised his own weapon and shook it, joining in with the war cry he had taught them, one passed down through generations of fighters. “Right, boys!”
“Fuck you, Sarge!” The thin cry came from the end of the line and Marcus let out a bellow of laughter.
“Got me, Sharne. Right, boys and girls!” He waited for the response.
“That’s better, Sarge.” Sharne leaned forwards to see past the line of men to her left and cocked him a wink. “Now, what was it you were saying?”
“I was saying,” Marcus said with a point of his weapon. “That we’re going to run through our formations one last time. Then, we’re going to draw up a guard roster for the night. No use having an army if they’re all at the same party, am I right?”
“Yes, Sir!” The cry was loud, punctuated by the stamping of spears on the dirt.
“And I don’t want anyone—not even you, Gerard, you pisshead—drinking if you’ve got a shift coming up. For those who are on last rotation, you’ll have to stay sober all night.”
A chorus of groans was quickly stifled by a glare. “Having said that, if you are on last shift, I’ll put a tab up at Mary’s for you the following night.”
Mary’s was the local stopover. Not quite big enough to be an inn or a bar, it functioned as both anyway. The one room Mary had to let out hadn’t been hired in a decade, so the story went, and the ‘tavern’ she ran was really a living room with a bar in it.
Cheers replaced the groans as Marcus signaled them to begin the drill.
With a quick march, the line split into two groups, nine soldiers in each. Sharne stood at the center front of her group and a man named Carey led the second. One by one, they presented their defense and attack stances, slipping into each and moving smoothly and in unison.
Marcus watched them, occasionally pointing to a slow movement or slack posture, but overall, he was impressed.
He had spent time with the Arcadian guard, time with seasoned soldiers out in the most dangerous of places, the Madlands. There, the enemy was clever but brutal, and utterly lacking in the instincts that made people human.
They didn’t feel pain, or love, or fear. They just attacked. Greed without emotional ties made them an easily fractured society, but it didn’t stop them from banding together to attack a contingent of guards or a passing trade caravan.
Even with all the years of training his old contingent had gone through, these fledgling fighters were giving them a run for their money. Well, at least in training, he admitted to himself. They hadn’t seen a real fight yet, and as much as they were itching to, Marcus hoped they wouldn’t.
“Soldiers!" he yelled.
They stopped mid-movement and snapped a stiff salute, one hand to their heads, the other forming a fist over their hearts.
“That’ll do, men. And woman,” he hastily added. Julianne would have his balls if she found out he kept forgetting to include Sharne. “Practice is over. Go powder your faces, or whatever it is you pussies do before a festival.”
“Yes, Sir!” they hollered before dissolving their lines and mingling to chat before they left.
“Looks like they’re coming along.”
Marcus jumped and spun around to see Julianne leaning against a fence post behind him. “Jules! I didn’t see you there.”
“I didn’t intend for you to,” she said. “I didn’t want to make your soldiers nervous, so I kept hidden.”
“They’ll have to get over it by tomorrow,” he said.
So far, each time Julianne had come by to watch the drills, the group had fallen over themselves either from nerves, or by trying to outdo each other to impress her.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” she said. “You’ve got a roster for tomorrow?”
“Doing that next,” he explained. “Any requests?”
Julianne shook her head. “As long as your name isn’t on that list, I approve.”
It was Marcus’s turn to groan. “Seriously? You’re gonna make me go to that damn festival?”
She grinned. “Suck it up, princess. If I have to, we all do. Besides, Danil told me you were partly responsible for this whole idea.”
“I was not!” Marcus protested. “It was all him, and if I happened to be mumbling something about it being a good idea, that was just so he’d stop bloody talking about it.”
“The day I believe you’re innocent is the day I kiss Garrett on his left ass cheek.”
“Och, Lass, that’s a day I’d look forwards to!” Garrett laughed at Julianne’s shocked face. “I wouldn’t hold ye to it. Ye’d be picking hairs out of yer teeth for days after. Real rearick rug I got, enough to make any Craigston girl want to grab it and...” He gnashed his teeth like a dog latching onto a juicy bone.
“Bitch's britches, Garrett. You just killed my appetite for lunch.” Marcus grabbed his stomach and gagged. “Anyway, esteemed Master of the Mindfully Mental Magicians, I have an appointment with this here gentleman I simply must attend. Farewell, and good day.” He swept into a deep bow, and Julianne couldn’t quite smother her giggle at his show.
“Fine. Just don’t get into any more trouble, you lot. I don’t think my poor fragile heart could handle it,” Julianne said as she slid past Garrett, stifling a groan as he grabbed his left buttock, wiggled his eyebrows seductively, and winked at her.
Julianne waved as she left, her smile sliding into a thoughtful frown as she mentally checked off the list of things Danil had asked her to do. That list was surprisingly short—candles and lanterns, tables and chairs, and dyed cloth to use to decorate the town hall they were using for the celebration.
That’s because I know you’d kick my ass if my bright idea caused you extra work. Danil slid the thought into her mind effortlessly, and she looked up to see him on the other side of the street.
And where are you off to? she sent back as he crossed the street to join her.
Danil’s eyes were white as his mind connected with Julianne’s. He carried his thin cane, which meant he had come into town alone. Without the eyes of another person to guide him, the cane would help him
navigate without tripping, but she hadn’t seen him use it outside of the Temple.
Catching her thoughts, he nodded. “I’ve gotten a hang of the town’s layout; thought I’d give it a run on my own. The last thing we need if we’re attacked is some kind but handsome fool bumbling about with no idea where he is.”
“Still,” she said as she took his arm. “You could have asked someone to come with you.”
He grinned as he slid his arm away. “And where’s the fun in that? Bette wagered three coins I couldn’t make it in alone. Have you seen her, by the way? I’m meeting with her and Garrett.”
Julianne shook her head. He couldn’t see it, but she knew he was reading her thoughts anyway. She quickly passed him the snippet of her memory that showed Garrett with Marcus.
“I’ll walk you there?" she suggested.
“Hell no,” he said. “If Bette sees me with you, she’ll think she’s won.”
“Fair enough,” Julianne said. “I’ve organized everything you asked me to for the festival. Is there anything else that needs taking care of?”
“Yes,” he nodded seriously. “You need to wash your hair. Seriously, you look like a scarecrow. You need to look your best tomorrow!” He winked and sauntered away, his cane tapping and scraping along the ground in front of him.
“I know you can see!" she shouted after him. A moment later, his presence disappeared from her head. “I’m so glad I warned the townspeople not to bet against him,” she mused.
CHAPTER TEN
“Jules, are you ready?” Marcus called from downstairs.
“I’m still doing my hair!” she called back. Technically, Annie was doing it, weaving it into the tiny braids that Julianne had seen some of the village women wearing.
“I thought you came home to wash it yesterday?” he questioned.
“Quit bothering the girl.” Annie stomped to the door, yanked it open and stuck her head out. “And keep your voice down in my house, young man.”
She shut the door, firmly enough to make a point without actually slamming it. “Those men, roll out of bed and into their pants, and that’s all they do of a morning. They’ve no idea.”
“You’ve got that right,” Julianne said.
Annie tugged at the last braid as she tied it off, then stood. “I’ll fetch you a mirror.”
The sliver of mirrored glass wasn’t big enough for Julianne to see her whole face in, but she angled it and turned her head to see what Annie had done.
“Oh, Annie! It’s just beautiful!”
“Say what you like about Tahn, but we do know how to make a lady look like one.” Annie’s face wore its usual stern lines, but a corner of her mouth tweaked up in a proud smile.
“I love it!” Julianne threw her arms around the woman. Julianne wasn’t one to primp and powder herself often, but this was special. Annie doing her hair in the style of the Tahn women made her feel like she had been truly accepted.
“Your robes are downstairs,” Annie said stiffly as she disentangled herself from the enthusiastic embrace. “I’ve washed and pressed them. They’re not perfect, but at least they don’t look like a horse’s doormat.”
If it had been anyone else, Julianne would have hugged her again. The old woman cared for them with a heart of gold, but she was also stubborn. She didn’t like grand gestures or lavish thanks, she just expected people to do right by each other without making a fuss about it.
“Oh, here comes the lady herself!” Marcus said as Julianne shut her door.
She could only see his feet at the bottom of the narrow stairs. As she came down to his level, his eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. “Wow, Jules. That was worth the wait.”
He tentatively put his hands on her arms and pulled her in to kiss her on the cheek, careful not to touch her simple linen dress or her carefully styled hair. “You look stunning,” he murmured into her ear.
She slapped his leather breastplate. “You don’t look so bad yourself, soldier.” His armor had been freshly polished and his hair, usually sandy blonde and floppy, was dark with oil and combed back neatly.
“You two better be looking for somewhere else to stay tonight if you’re planning shenanigans,” Annie growled. “Don’t want that kind of noise keeping me up until dawn.”
Julianne groaned as Marcus barked a laugh. “Fair enough, Annie,” he said. “We’ll wait ‘til morning to tell you all about it.”
Annie just shook her head. “Out, you two. Don’t be waiting on me; Francis is still upstairs. He’ll take me down to the hall but you”—she pushed the white robe into Julianne’s hands—“can’t be late. Off you go!”
She shooed them out the door. Outside, Julianne’s horse was saddled and ready.
“I thought we’d be walking?”
Marcus shook his head. “And get road dust on your dress after Annie went to the effort of cleaning it? I don't think so.”
“You make a good point.” Julianne swung up into her saddle, glad that all her dresses had divided skirts for riding. Though her position as Master often kept her inside, the journey’s she had taken had often called for clothes nicer than the average riding gear.
They nudged the horses into a canter as the sun dropped below the mountains behind them. As they approached the tiny town, Julianne gasped at the tiny lanterns that lined the dirt roads.
“Danil said this was just a small gathering,” Julianne said, a note of unease creeping into her voice.
“You believed him?” Marcus said with a chuckle.
Julianne sighed. “I know his intentions were good, but do you really think it’s the right time for this?” She fiddled with the reins in her hand.
“If the New Dawn come back, they come back.” Marcus slowed his horse to a walk as the hall came into view. The muted sounds of chatter and music leaked through the old, oak doors. “A party won’t make it more or less likely, and I’ve made sure we have a solid watch for the night.”
“I guess.” Julianne pulled her horse up and carefully slid off, brushing short hairs off her robe as one of the village boys ran up to take the horse. She took a deep breath to steady herself, slipping into a light, brief meditation to calm her nerves.
“Come on,” Marcus said. “It’s just a bunch of people, not a horde of remnants.”
Scowling at his back, Julianne wondered how someone with no mind reading talent always seemed to know what she was feeling. She pushed open the door, and light and sound spilled out from within.
Inside, the hall was filled with floating lanterns. An illusion, she quickly realized, augmented by natural light from the candelabras hanging from the rafters. Fresh straw lined the floor, giving the space an earthy smell and at one end, two men plucked at banjos as a third hummed the opening tune to one of the local ditties she had heard the farmers sing in the field.
“Jules!” Bastian waved at her from across the room, and a small smattering of applause sprang up from the people in the room.
“You go; I have to gather my troops for our demonstration,” Marcus said and nudged her in Bastian’s direction.
She hurried across the room, giving brief smiles to those she passed and stopping to take one woman’s hand as she reached out. “Thank you, Master Julianne,” the woman whispered. Her eyes were wet and her chin trembled.
Julianne whispered a word to herself. As her eyes misted over, a wave of calmness emanated around her. It suffused the old lady with warmth and clarity. She smiled and bowed her head.
Julianne pulled away, unused to being treated like a savior. When she reached Bastian and saw Danil with him, she grabbed his sleeve.
“This,” she said in a low growl, “is exceedingly uncomfortable. Next time you set me up like this, I’ll make you spend a week unable to speak without launching into a theatre song.”
Danil snorted. “Can you do it anyway? I’ve always wanted to live in a musical.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on him to speak to Bastian. “What am I supposed to do tonight?"
she asked. Danil hadn’t been forthcoming about what he had planned.
“That’s your seat.” He gestured to a large wooden chair that overlooked the hall. It was decorated with flowers and ribbons.
“Bitch save me,” Julianne muttered under her breath.
Bastian caught her arm before she turned to go. “All the legends about Bethany Anne, all those books we kept back at the Temple? They all made it seem like she hated the worship as much as you do.”
“No bloody wonder,” Julianne said.
“But,” he said, face stern, “they also showed how much the people around her needed it. They needed something to believe in, someone to trust. Back then, it was their queen, their Matriarch. For these people, that’s you.”
“So, you’re saying I should shut up and put up?” Julianne asked.
Bastian nodded.
“Fine. But it wasn’t just me in that fight, remember.”
“I know.” Bastian’s eyes flicked over to the door. “I have to go. Go sit on your fancy chair, and for Bastard’s sake, try and smile?”
He ducked off to speak to Bette, and Julianne flopped into her chair. She wiggled a little, sinking into the thick, soft cushion. At least it’s kind of comfortable, she thought to herself.
More people were pouring through the doors now, and the banjo players were in full swing. A couple of older kids took to the dance floor, showing off with quick dance steps and lots of laughter, which brought the adults in, too.
On the far side of the hall, the screech of a table being dragged along the floor caught Julianne's attention. She looked up to see Danil gesturing to a couple of men who were lining up tables down one side of the hall.
As soon as they stepped back, the food began to appear. Plates of soft cheese and fresh bread, slabs of butter scented with herbs, bowls of fresh fruit and a large tray of carved meat all appeared one by one, filling the festival hall with mouthwatering odors.
