40. Tryst

On two days during the second week, Cian took me to local farms outside Pikestully with farming issues.

I rode on a borrowed horse from the liveries with him and Hazel.

One was a dispute about unpaid taxes that while not interesting was informative and only required me to observe both Cian’s and Hazel’s gentle assurance that back taxes could be paid late as they were not that great amount owed.

The second was a farm where rainwater was sitting on the soil and did not feed half of the crops grown there.

The farmer was agitated.

Cian pricked his right hand and placed it on the ground.

I watched him pray, murmuring words I could not make out.

When he stood, he told the farmer the soil was so compacted, the water could not drain.

The farmer thanked him and they discussed aerating the soil with little plugs along the rows as well as treating it with peat moss to add more moisture.

I continued to read and learn and observe, but my own penchant was not evident.

Towards the end of the second week, two things of note happened.

Hundreds of young Tintarian men were showing up to the Shark’s Keep and subordinates of Jeremanthy were herding them into barracks and dormitories.

They were squeezing into the dining hall, eating in shifts and Mischa did not know who they were.

She wanted to ask Jeremanthy, who it seemed, was a reasonable employer and appreciative of her efficient scribing, but Helena and I advised her it could appear as nosy.

We were still considered Ecclestonian, even if, by law, we were now Tintarian.

The second was a personal discovery.

One morning, earlier than most, the sun still not up, I felt terribly sweaty from the increasingly warm nights and I made my way down to the women’s baths.

In the large corridor that led to them, I saw a small door that looked like a linen closet.

It had the upside-down triangle that represented Sister Sea.

I pulled on the handle, but it remained shut.

I returned to Alric’s room, which despite the inviting bed and containing all of my belongings, I continued to think of as his room.

I collected the key hidden in Gareth’s journal from my apron.

In the mornings, when bathing, I did not bother with the belt, sagaris and apron.

I took a small candle from a basket of them under Alric’s desk and placed it on one of the circular candle holders I had found in his desk’s drawers.

On my way out of the rooms, I lit the candle from a sconce light.

I returned to the linen closet.

The key worked.

Behind the door was a set of steps that led downward.

I descended them and found myself in a private bathing chamber that seemed out of use, despite the warm water.

It was about the width and length of a horse’s stall with a lip and step that ran around the edge.

The water looked to be about as deep as my waist and the ceiling was low.

A shelf on one side that had once borne soap was empty.

Why had Gareth Pope had a key to this? Hinnom must have given it to him.

This was a place they had trysted.

A man’s guffaw startled me from the left side of the chamber.

I turned and only saw the green sheen of the water, color pulled from the pool’s mosaic and cast onto the rock wall.

I walked around the lip and put my ear to the wall.

Men’s voices came through and I realized that this private bath abutted the men’s baths.

I left the bath, locked the door and carried on to the women’s baths.

I bathed speedily that morning and returned to the room to don the belt, apron and sagaris.

I had time prior to breakfast and I withdrew Gareth’s journal from the pockets.

I flipped ahead of where I had been reading, him describing prayer and meditation with Keturah, the then archpriestess of earth.

My eyes caught on the word ‘key,’ and I began to read.

‘He will not acknowledge me in front of others.

This is not Perpatane.

It may not be legal for two men to be together, but neither is it a crime that is punished regularly.

This is not Perpatane where they hunt us down.

Only the flagrant are condemned.

Plenty of couples like us dwell together in secret in the city.

Granted, they be in obscurity, but they be.

He will only kiss me in shadows.

He will only touch me in darkness.

When I can creep into his chambers, he suckles me in his bed, unhurried and with care.

And bids me do the same to him.

Then my prince tells me my seed is sweet, my mouth is a boon and that I am his heart’s blood, heat and life in his veins.

Come the morn, I must slither out, hurtling down the stairwell to the barracks.

He gave me the key.

‘For us,’ he said.

It was a consolation for he and his father had met with a lord of Sibbereen who has a daughter of marriageable age.

Tintarian royals do not marry outside of Tintar unless it is to wealthy folk from The Flavored Three.

A small bath is what I will get, but that horse girl will get his ring and his babes.

This entanglement is a hindrance.

Keturah says I am blessed with soil and perhaps, even stone penchants.

She begs me to leave the infantry and be her priest.

She says the goddess moves her to sway me.

And every slight from Hinnom drives me further into Mother Earth’s arms.

My goddess would not turn from me as my lover does. I should dedicate my life to magic not illicit swiving and unrequited love. I should look to the newest priestess of Sister Sea as my example. She is but nineteen winters, gifted and dedicated. Her name is Thalia and she hails from some backwoods nothing town in the south. For some reason, her own family will not claim her. So she traveled to the city and demanded an audience in the temples. Her blessing is so mighty, she can draw saltwater out of thin air. It pools in her hands. This has not been done by a sea Tintarian for hundreds of winters. She is the darling of her goddess and I am the prodigal of mine. I should return and commit to Mother Earth. I never wanted to be a soldier and I never wanted this rue.’

I closed the journal.

Thalia was then closer to Hinnom’s age, though she looked much older.

I thought on this mystery and held sympathy for Gareth during the rest of that day, sitting in the temple’s antechamber and watching as Hazel heard complaints from farmers who all said portions of their land had grown too rocky to be raked.

I did not feel guilty at my disinterest for all she did was note their names, properties and console them, promising someone from the temple would visit their farms.

Yet again, I wondered if Gareth Pope still lived, and if so, where was he?