rgv

  cruelty, misogyny, torture, stoning, diseased bodies

  [colpse]

  UnfairAnya walked to the Guild quarter. The local chapter house was located there, where they offered their services to the guards, the pace, and the other Guilds in the city. They also had a clinic just off the square in the merchants quarter. Today she was informing the Guild of her marriage. Lady Biyu had offered an escort, but she had declined. She had no idea how long she would be, and Lady Biyu and May were both busy. Lady Biyu was doing a favor for Sir Stuart, and May was training Bert. Depriving Bert time to learn with his mentor might lead to resentment. It was hard enough to get on their good side without sabotaging themselves. Grimacing as that word reminded her of a certain woman, and her own trials, she presented the token of her Guild to the guards. They inspected it thoroughly before waving her through.

  The chapter house was a city estate, like so many prominent buildings in the city. She had been to other chapter houses, and they all followed a standard design. There was a gate yard between the two offset gates leading into the outer courtyard. There wasn't much to the estate compared to the pace complex. The outer courtyard was lined with a kitchen, quarters for the servants who served the patients as attendants, and rooms for the patients. Or, to use the Guild term, the guests. There was a serenity garden, designed to induce calm and tranquility, with walks for guests that could manage on their own. Even those who could not could visit them on litters borne by healthy apprentices or servants. Important guests would be assigned rooms in the inner courtyard, but this was where most guests would be seen to by the Healers on duty.

  The inner courtyard was much the same, except there was a row house for functionaries, servants, apprentices, and other menials who worked the estate. Healers and Masters had rooms in the two-story main residence. There was an apothecary, ritual rooms for special needs like isoting virulent guests, and a charm maker who specialized in charms for good health and warding from disease. The centerpiece of the inner courtyard was the herb garden, where the apothecary and gardener grew ingredients for brews and salves.

  The Guild Master would have his office and room in the center of the top floor of the main residence. The location was intended to be symbolic of the fact that he was the overseer of operations in the chapter house. This was the man she had to see.

  Entering the Guild, after showing her token to guards from the city, she went to the reception to request a meeting. The verandas had been shuttered close for the winter, temporary walls of wood and wool put up against the cold. There was the occasional door, bound in pce with leather thongs to keep them from flying away with the wind. They still tended to rattle and leak in cold breezes.

  She was greeted by a Guild functionary, who took her to the Guild master's office after verifying her emblem. The man looked at the two emblems she bore on her quilted robes. One was the Guild's, and the other the purple leaved tree and bck trunk of Elderwoods.

  The trek along the cold verandas was quick, even though the functionary was a mortal man. He was in good health, which was expected for a Guild of Healers. The stairs were broad and ft, easy to traverse up. Long halls with doors to either side, like two row houses facing each other, led to rooms on the second floor. The Guild Master held two room for himself, only one of which had a door. The functionary knocked, then entered first to announce her.

  Anya followed, to behold this city's Guild Master. He was an older man with a thin beard, short hair styled to look like a cap on his head, trimmed eyebrows, and a gown brocaded with the guild emblem. He was only a little taller than her. His cheekbones were high, his smile polite, and his eyes severe. "Greetings, Anya. We have letters for you from the main Guild Hall."

  "Thank you, Guild Master. May I read them?"

  "Certainly, but I already have. I can summarize them for you if you like." His eyes took in the emblems on her chest, and a small frown creased his face.

  She was a little irritated he had taken the liberty, but she accepted the letters. They all said essentially the same thing. A request to be informed when she would arrive back in Shadow Gate along with a request for information to help finalize her pending engagement. All except the test one, which instructed her that her contract with Lady Chelsea was being transferred, and she was to come to Shadow Gate immediately.

  "They want me to travel in the winter?" Anya asked, incredulously.

  "It isn't that bad," the Guild Master said. "If you had made a point of checking for messages regurly, like you should have, you'd have known about this in te summer. Plenty of time to get past the heavy snows."

  "I'm on contract. They can't just change it like this. Lady Chelsea—"

  "Is not the signatory on the contract. That was her brother, who was more than happy to accept a reduction in fees for accommodating us. So, go get yourself packed. I'll get you onto a caravan heading north."

  "No need. I'm not going."

  He gave her a steely look. "Are you defying the Guild's orders?"

  "I joined the Guild to be a Healer. This," she waved the letter, "is not my job."

  "It's your duty, as a woman," the Guild Master growled, his face turning darker. "I've had you looked into. A wanton slut seducing every married woman you meet. It's a wonder any man would want to touch filth like you. But congratutions, you have the distinct honor of making up for your vices with an opportunity to be of some use. GET PACKED TO GO."

  "I came here to inform you I am already married—"

  The man's face lost all emotion. "I worried as much, seeing as you've got another emblem on your cloak. 'Another ungrateful bitch, spiting the Guild that's done so much for her' I though." He shook his head. "You knew the Guild had pns for you. Who did you marry? Some plow boy with big arms you've wrapped around your finger?"

  "Defender Elderwoods," Anya replied.

  He stared at her. "Where is Elderwoods?"

  "It's a fortress in Lost Lakes."

  The man's brows creased. "So, a plow boy noble?" he asked. "So very disappointing. But, expected. Never give a woman an education. It gives them ideas. Like that bitch Master Uma." He shook his head again.

  "I have no duty to marry for the Guild's benefit," Anya said.

  "You forget the fourth Oath," he bit out.

  "To help and support the Guild and my brethren? That's an unreasonable—"

  He rose to his feet as she answered, and spped her hard enough to tumble her from her feet. She stared at him, shocked. "You can't—" He pnted his foot in her stomach, and this time he sent her cracking against the stone wall. "Wha—" She was kicked again, and she choked for breath.

  "Talking back, when your betters are instructing you? Like you know better? You think you know how to interpret the Oaths better than me? An Oath breaker like you?" he asked. He spat on her. "Don't think your pretty face will get you leniency. So ungrateful, after all this Guild has done for you. Even finding shit like you a husband!"

  She was no Oath breaker! She could leave the Guild. With Lady Biyu's support, she would remain safe. Membership in a Guild was voluntary. Always.

  And yet, Saint Theodore Goodbrother, the patron her Oaths were sworn to, agreed with the Guild Master. She felt the Oath, a long time warmth that aided her healing, curdle within her. Her techniques, which she had worked so hard to learn, changed into insidious things. Strength became weakness. Healing turned to sickness. She could feel herself wasting away. Her flesh melted from her, the filth it became oozing from her pores. Her skin dried and cracked, becoming scabby and itchy. In every fashion her techniques once helped her and others, it now debilitated her. She could smell herself, before snot and worse things clogged her nostrils.

  The Guild Master looked at her in disgust, before he went to the door and yelled for servants to attend him. "Throw this thing out," the man said with disgust to the servants who came. She was dragged out by the unhappy servants, who did their best to keep their faces far from her. She cried out in pain as they thumped her down the stairs, drawing the resting Guild Healers from their room to see what the commotion was.

  Watching, none of them did a thing as she was dragged ravaged and crying from the pain. A few followed, too curious not to try to discover what was happening but too timid to ask someone. Some of the functionaries and guards they met on the way recognized her soiled clothes, but none of them asked after her. Instead, they stared with revulsion.

  No one barred the servants as they bundled her out of the chapter house. Dragged through the street like a sack of trash, they came to the west gate out of the city. The guards let them through, staring at her in disgust. The servants left her on the ground outside the gate, then compined about needing to bathe as they returned the way they came. The guards, when she id there trying to recover, poked her with the fts of their spears to prod her on her way.

  As she stumbled in the roads, her legs as failing to carry her weight more than a few steps, people stared at her with naked disgust and revulsion. Even here, in the squalor of the shacks, where baths were no more than a weekly affair, their revulsion was obvious. The brave chased her off with curses. The meek avoided her with their eyes cast away.

  Children found her, and made a game of hurling stones at her, certain she was an evil thing to be chased off. Pain wracked her when the stones nded true, and she felt at least one rib snap as she curled up in futile defense. She scurried, as often crawling on four limbs as two, as she fled the children. They started calling her the roach dy, ughing at their japes, as they tried to hit her with ever rger stones.

  Only hours ago she'd been happy. For the first time in a while, she had had hope for her future.

  This was unfair.

  She escaped the children, who lost interest in the sport of chasing her when the stones failed to slow her. She found a pce where no one would bother her, with the other wretches, many of whom smelled as badly as she did. They offered her a little food, charitable in the hopes of future charity, but she wasn't hungry.

  Anya huddled in the cold near the fire they'd lit. As she stared in the fmes she wished the prick god cast into the Hells. Her rage sprang tears that washed it away. Soon she cried for everything she had lost.

  Biyu was chatting with Iris when she felt her blessing broken in the west. Her head snapped that way, feeling the pit of her stomach plunge. Iris stared into her grave face. May had turned with her, her face stormy. Iris watched them, confusion wrestling with worry.

  "Chattel, Clio, stay inside. Do not leave. Chattel, defend yourself, the servants, and the sves. Kill if you must. May, take Iris to Lady Chelsea. Iris, inform her Anya is in trouble." May nodded, and took a hold of Iris. They disappeared in a gust of wind.

  Biyu went to the guards and servants, warning them they might soon be under siege and to prepare themselves. She told the servants in no uncertain terms that Chattel was responsible for their safety. Then she went to put on her long unused armor, her face turning back into her familiar mask.

  Chattel did as she was commanded. She took her broom, and barricaded the sves and servants in the rgest room they had. In the dark she waited among the whispers, ears peeled.

  May brought Iris to the gate of Lady Chelsea's residence in the pace complex. They still had rooms there, since Lady Tabitha had been cross when they had mentioned moving into the city. To pcate the noblewoman, they spent as much time in the pace complex as not.

  Iris was left perplexed at the gate, where the soldiers allowed her in. They were wary at Iris's sudden appearance, their spears lowered defensively despite no sign of attack. When she found Lady Chelsea, she told her, "I think something happened to Lady Anya. Lady Biyu and May suddenly got tense, barked some orders and… They said Anya was in trouble."

  An advantage of being the wind was that walls and gates meant little. The Guild quarter gates were always closed, with the guard verifying everyone who passed through had the right to be there, either with a Guild token or permit. With a step May was on the other side, and a few steps ter they were outside the Guild of Salutary Fellowship. Then they were inside, bypassing another gate. From the courtyard, they removed a door to enter the veranda.

  "What are you doing here?" asked a surprised man. Judging by his clothing, he was a servant.

  "Where is Anya?" Biyu asked.

  "Do you have an appointment? Are you even allowed to be here?" He took in her manner of dress. Her mask had taken on a bnk white appearance, only showing her gray eyes gring at him. Her hand rested on her Elven knife, while the other fingered the hilt of her sword. A mail hauberk, and all of her customary weapons and armor, were pin to see. May, behind her, had all that and a cuirass.

  "You will bring me to Anya, or to someone who can tell me where she is. Now." Biyu took a step toward the servant.

  The man bnched, but maintained his bearing. "I'll take you to Guild Master Harmon. This way." He turned, and started leading them.

  Servants made way for them, their eyes following before they rushed off to inform important people.

  The man led them to a second floor door in the main residence. He knocked.

  "What?" came the put upon voice from inside.

  "Unannounced visitors, Guild Master Harmon." He gnced at them. "Names?"

  "Biyu Kimmel Lostkes Elderwoods, Lord of Elderwoods Fortress." The servant repeated her words.

  "What? How did they— whatever. Send him in."

  Biyu entered the room, her fists clenching the handles of her bdes. There was a foul air in the room. "Where is Anya?"

  "Are you the fool that married the ungrateful bitch?" the Guild Master asked.

  "I am. Where is my wife?"

  "And who do you think you are to demand anything from me? And what are you, anyways, a child? Learn some manners."

  Biyu was fed up. She drew the knife she had made among the Elves.

  The Guild Master ughed as she drew it. "What's that? A stone bde?" He shook his head. "What— Ah! What the Hells!"

  A ssh split the Guild Master's gown's sleeve and the flesh beneath. Blood leaked out. The servant, his bravado pushed past its limits, fled the room while shouting the arm. Biyu eyed the wound, while she maniputed the poison she'd left in the man's body with [Poison Control]. She localized the poisonous blood of the Goblins, dispelling [Envenom] from the bde. She grimaced as she noted the bde had pitted before putting it away.

  The man screamed again, as she melted the bone in his arm in half. The limb hung there useless, the flesh stretching under the weight of bones he still had. He gripped his arm, the flesh tearing where she had cut it, making the wound even worse. He rested it on his desk, his face shocked as he stared at the unusual wound.

  "Where is my wife?" Biyu repeated.

  The man was distracted from his stupor, and focused a gre at her, his lips pulling from his teeth. Whatever he was about to say to her, he thought better as another spasm of pain pinched his face. "Threw her out of the city. The dumb bitch is probably dead in a gutter somewhere." He then spat on the floor. "Go join her."

  "What did you do to her?" Biyu asked.

  "Nothing. She was an Oath breaker. My god punished her for her disobedience."

  Biyu took a deep breath, her chest and shoulders swelling beneath her armor. "I see." She looked around the office. It was a small, well-ordered space. An icon, a bust of a man with a rge hooked nose and deep set eyes, was arranged on a personal altar. She walked over to it.

  "What do you think you're doing?" the man demanded.

  Biyu picked up the bust, and threw it against the wall. Wall and bust shattered, while the Guild Master squawked in outrage. Then she kicked over the altar.

  "You shouldn't piss off gods, little girl. Saint Goodbrother will have his vengeance."

  Biyu turned to look at him, her eyes calm. She used [Wizard Eye] and found his blessing. Biyu stripped it from him. The far off god, Ascended in the Heavens, was still connected to it. She savored the moment of pain she felt from him as she severed the Divinity from him, taking it for herself.

  The Guild Master felt something as well, his face turning pale. "What did you do?" he demanded, his good hand shaking as he leaned against his desk.

  "Unfortunately, I cannot kill you. Your vices are not heavy enough, although I have killed men for less than this. So I curse your Guild within this city. All your healing will fail. The air around you will bring ill health. Bad fortune and injury will follow you."

  Those wishes she gave to some of the vengeful spirits within her Hell. She granted to them mana, and shaped their minds to serve her will. A piece of the Saint's Divinity, the smallest scrap, she gave to them, so they would know the mark of those they were to harass. Then she freed them. Always before, she had felt this was a step too far. The molding of souls to serve her own purposes, a step beyond making thralls. It reeked of necromancy, and the foulness of demons. In her anger, she would not hold back.

  There was the thumping of boots, and a Knight entered the room. He looked at the wounded Guild Master, and drew his sword at Lady Biyu. May readied to intervene, when the Knight paled. "Defender Elderwoods?" he asked.

  "That is me. I will talk with Viscount Elderwoods ter. This Guild has earned my displeasure. Will you interfere?"

  The Knight considered, looking at the Guild Master again. "Anyone dead?"

  "No."

  The Knight put his sword away, then bowed to her. "Then I'll await orders from Viscount Lonelyknoll." He gnced at the Guild Master. "Uh, you haven't made an enemy of Lady Tabitha's personal guest, have you Harmon?"

  "Who?" the Guild Master asked.

  Biyu left the Knight to talk to the Guild Master, May carrying them out of the city in as a rush of wind. They sought out traces of Anya, but the guards had changed and the people they met were wary to say anything to the angry warriors.

  In the end, they returned without finding traces of Anya. They had no idea where to begin to look, except to ask after the emblems Anya bore.

  For a moment Biyu just stared at Anya, her mask morphing back to a sembnce of her face. Then, to the shock of the onlooking Knights, tears sprang to Biyu's eyes. The small woman csped onto Iris, and the tears turned to sobs as she began to cry brokenly. Iris bundled her to their own rooms, leaving a grim May behind.

  "Anya was decred an Oath breaker. She's missing now," May told Lady Chelsea.

  Sir Leon, staring after Biyu's rare dispy of vulnerability, swung around to stare at May incredulously. "You were supposed to protect her! It's why she married that Monster! How did you let this happen?" He stalked towards May belligerently, his finger jabbing into her chest.

  "We offered to accompany her. She thought it would be fine." May bent into a deep bow. "We are sorry."

  Sir Leon's fists shook, his desire to strike something evident. May made no defensive move, granting him an opening. Instead, he stalked off. Sir Stuart and Sir Richard joined him, offering him what consotion they could.

  "You shouldn't have let Lady Biyu marry her," Lady Chelsea said.

  "Oh? So she should spend the rest of her life being raped? Is that what you think she should have done? Or did you expect her to kill herself? If this was what the Guild was going to do, she was fucked from the outset. At least she got a moment of happiness." May stared at the shocked Lady Chelsea.

  Turning her back on the woman trying to regain her bearings, May left by foot for the Lesser Pace. Here she waited politely at the gate, to be announced as a messenger from Lady Biyu.

  "How may I help you?" Viscount Lonelyknoll asked. His wife and son were with him, both anxious at May's severe expression.

  "Defender Elderwoods decres to you her displeasure with the Guild of Salutary Fellowship. They have cast out Anya Healer, her wife, as an Oath breaker because she refused to marry the man of their choice. We decre them our enemies, and we may war with them depending on what has become of Lady Anya." She bowed low. In a quieter voice, she added, "I apologize. You have been kind to us, but we have brought trouble to you."

  Sighing, Viscount Lonelyknoll shook his head. "Can you expin what happened?"

  "We have a means to tell if Anya and Iris are well. Anya went to inform the Guild of her marriage today. The spell failed, and we assumed the worst. We brought Iris to Lady Chelsea for protection, then went to find Anya. The Guild informed us she was an Oath breaker, and they dumped her in a gutter."

  Lady Vanessa scowled. "A Guild cannot use Oaths to force their members into marriage. That's just… wrong. A Guild is a pce to learn a trade, colborate with fellow practitioners, and guarantee the quality of work you do. It's a professional association! Not a political institution. And Salutary Fellowship relies on donations!"

  Viscount Lonelyknoll scrubbed at his face. "We have other Guilds. Shall we make a procmation, and expel them?"

  "We'll have to talk to Lady Tabitha first. I believe she's one of their donors in the city."

  May listened to them, feeling some satisfaction. "Do you have a message for my Master?"

  "Tell her they will be censured. The protections we provide them from the guard have been forfeited by vioting the guest rights we have afforded you. Do as you must." Lady Vanessa nodded.

  "We do not wish to harm the innocent," May said. "However, my Master may go to war with their god."

  He sighed. "I suppose I cannot talk you out of this?" At a shake of her head, he gave a nod. "Very well. I will not give you my blessing. I will demand you minimize the damage and unrest you cause my city."

  Days after the attack, Guild Master Harmon still in his bed. The Healer who had been sent to treat him was once more trying to close the wound on his arm. The bandages kept bleeding through, and the wound refused the Healer's attempts to close. This boy was supposed to be talented. Standards must be slipping.

  He wheezed. His coughs kept getting worse, but the specialist in diseases said he was fine. Obviously, he wasn't. Yes, at some point standards had slipped. He'd have to an evaluation done, to figure out how much retraining everyone needed. He'd heal it himself, but the bitch had done something to him during her hysterics.

  For now, he was stuck in a meeting the other Masters had called. Since he was severely injured, they met in his room. Master Uma was sitting on a stool, a hand clutching her back while the other held a cane. She never used a cane before. Master Heron was standing near her, looking at her in concern. Master Norman was probably working in the apothecary, thinking this had nothing to do with him. The pain reliever he'd made him utterly failed to ease his pain.

  Harmon's functionaries were attending too, since they were responsible for the Guild's day-to-day operation. Which meant the fact it wasn't operating was their problem. Nothing had gone well after the guards left. The very same day, Viscount Lonelyknoll had sent a messenger demanding he send someone to see him.

  The representative had returned, pale faced, to tell them that their tax exemptions was withdrawn, Lady Tabitha was no longer sponsoring them, and that their writ to run a clinic in the merchant quarter was revoked. He also had a letter for the Guild, not the Guild Master, which outlined that they had pissed off someone who had tossed the scion of the Marble family out of the city. A woman who was also the personal guest of Lady Tabitha, and whom Viscount Lonelyknoll thought of as a friend.

  "My techniques aren't working right," the Healer compined once more.

  "Oh for… Master Heron, you take over. You're the best we have," Guild Master Harmon ordered.

  Master Heron gave him a raised brow. "My techniques aren't working any better. Haven't you noticed, Guild Master? All of our magic has been failing since Defender Elderwoods visit. I'd say we are—"

  There was a sudden loud popping noise, and the floor shuddered. They all turned to look at the door, and a functionary rushed out without being told to see what the matter was. When he returned, he was ashen faced.

  "The apothecary just blew up."

  There was silence as they all stared at him.

  "How?" Harmon asked.

  "What are you all doing? Go, see if anyone there needs help! And don't breathe the smoke. Who knows what's in it," Master Heron ordered. The functionaries rushed off, barking orders once they were out the door. "You too, Healer Franklin. Make sure you bring bandages."

  "What is going on?" Harmon asked, resisting the urge to curse. It had been that kind of day for the st few days. All the doors on the verandas had blown off just yesterday. One of the apprentices quit not long ago too, decring that he had a premonition from Lord Nightmare warning him from staying.

  "I have a sore back," Master Uma chimed in. The unexpected non sequitur had them all looking at the old woman.

  Normally she was a proud, upright woman. Over two hundred years old, she was one of the oldest members of the Guild. She even had a story about meeting Saint Theodore when she was a girl. Too many people expected it to be a nice story about a girl meeting a hero. It was anything but.

  "I haven't had a sore back before in my life. I can't even stand straight! Why'd we let an asshole like you become Guild Master?" She poked his boneless arm with a cane. That expined why she had one, when she was one of the spriest people here. For years apprentices and Healers had been whispering she'd become a god, but it never happened. He suspected she thought it would be a hassle.

  Guild Master Harmon spped the cane away, and that caused the old woman to totter on her stool. Master Heron quickly propped her up before she could fall.

  "None of us wanted to do it," Master Heron answered when she was steadfast on her stool again.

  "Still don't, but I shoulda," Master Uma compined. "So, you pissed off the guest of our most beloved patron, Lady Tabitha, and Viscount Lonelyknoll by association. Why did you think that was a good idea?"

  "I didn't! It's that defiant bitch's fault. Healer Anya was supposed to marry a man from the Northnds the Guild kindly arranged for her, and instead she married that barbarian. Look what she did to me! Why the Hells would Lady Tabitha have her as a guest?"

  "How's that?" Master Uma asked. A helpful servant produced Anya's letters for Master Uma. Her eyes went across one message after another, taking them in quickly. Except for one, which she read a few times. "So, she agreed to let the Guild set her up for a marriage? How does that end like this?"

  "We didn't ask. It was her duty," Harmon said.

  "No," Master Uma said. "Her duty is to heal people. Then ask for whatever donations they can afford. That's her duty. Just like the rest of us. Why would she marry someone just because the Guild asked her to?"

  "Told."

  "Right. So, she left the Guild and…? What are you leaving out?"

  "The Guild told her to go back to Shadow Gate to get married, and she said no. Obviously she was an Oath breaker, so I denounced her."

  "An Oath breaker. 'Cause she wouldn't marry a man you told her to."

  "We. The Guild," Harmon said.

  "Nope. Not me. Was her Oath to that prick Saint Goodbrother?"

  "Don't call our god a prick."

  "He ain't our god. Mine is Saint Eleanor. No sensible girl should swear to Saint Goodbrother. That man hated women."

  "So you've said," Master Heron chimed in.

  "So prick god agrees with you she's an Oath breaker, and she gets cursed. Where is she now?" Master Uma asked.

  "Who cares?" Harmon asked.

  "Defender Elderwoods. The woman who caused my bad back, our techniques to fail, and our gods forsaken apothecary to blow up."

  A functionary entered the room as she was speaking. They motioned him to speak. "Master Norman had his bell rung. He's alive and well. We've taken him to the Guild of the Fortuitous Friend for healing, along with a few apprentices and Healers working with him." He hesitated.

  "Spit it out, boy," Master Uma said.

  "There was a message on the wall, written in the dust. It said, 'Find Anya'."

  "Get a Priest, dammit!" shouted the Guild Master.

  The functionary hurried out of the room.

  "What's the point of that?" Master Uma asked.

  "Apparently we really are cursed. Or the woman was a damned necromancer. Either way, he can lift the curse," Harmon said.

  Without much else to say, they waited while Masters Uma and Heron made small talk. Neither so much as looked at him. When the Priest of Gunthar came in, he was grave. The functionary who saw him in quickly left.

  "Who here wishes to recant Theodore?" the Priest asked gravely.

  "What?" the men asked.

  "I do not follow Saint Goodbrother," Master Uma said.

  "I called you here to get rid of the curse. Vengeful spirit. Whatever it is," Harmon said.

  "I will not be doing that. None of the gods will."

  "Why not?" Harmon asked, incredulous. "We can give you a donation…"

  The Priest gave him a reproachful look. "Lord Charity never works for the promise of money, and neither do I. Harmon, Lord Charity blessed their wedding. As did Lady Order, Lord Ambition, Lord Hells (I was told to use that epithet), and Lady Dreams. And many, many others. None of them are going to help followers of Theodore."

  Master Heron bnched, his breath coming out in gasps as he fought a panic attack.

  "So, you're saying Theo— that their god just pissed off all the important gods?" Master Uma asked.

  The Priest nodded. "That is what Lord Charity told me."

  "What does recanting entail?" Master Heron asked.

  "Lord Charity will take on the burden of your Oaths, repcing Theodore's bonds," the Priest said. "I will, of course, offer this to all of your Healers as well."

  Master Uma though on that, giving little nods as she agreed with her own thoughts. "Master Heron? I say we break off from the Guild of Salutary Fellowship. I've been getting a whiff of rot for years now, if not decades."

  "A new Guild?" Master Heron asked.

  "Yeah. Toss anyone who don't wanna join. Let them go somewhere else. Maybe go back to Saint Eleanor. I got her little book somewhere, which tells her life story. Supposed to be a true account Sain— Goodbrother wrote about her. It's derogatory, since he was trying to repce her as the Guild's patron god, but all the stuff he hated I thought was wonderful. You know, she's the one who started our tradition of healing for donations?"

  Master Heron gave a nod. "I've heard your sermons. But, won't I be bound to Lord Charity?"

  "Worship who you like. He will just take on the burden of your Oath. Or would you rather Theodore have it?"

  "That's a compelling argument. Never really liked what I heard about the man when he wasn't being a Saint. What should we call ourselves?"

  "How about the Guild of the Fallen Sister?"

  "After Healer Anya?"

  "Of course. And if they find her, I say we let her be the Grand Master of the Guild. Don't know about you, but I think kissing the ass of someone the gods take the side of is a good sense."

  "You two insubordinate—" Harmon began.

  "Oh, shut up. You're going north as soon as we can book you a caravan. I ain't letting you into my Guild."

  "In the winter?" Harmon said incredulously.

  "Shall I go visit Viscount Lonelyknoll and Lady Tabitha then?" Master Heron asked.

  "It'd be sweet if you did, but it can wait until—" A part of the wall fell in, letting in a breeze. "Nope, never mind that. The sooner, the better. My back is killing me."

  Master Heron hustled off, collecting an entourage to accompany him on his way.

  Sitting and watching, former Guild Master Harmon needed a drink. He could fight and rail. He could attack them, fat lot of good a Healer beating up a Healer would be. Then again, none of them could heal. His wounded arm ached.

  He could admit, he had made a mistake. After all, how could he guess a slut would marry someone who cared about them? And that she'd be so connected! If she wasn't dead now, she very likely looked like she had. He didn't know how he thought denouncing her would help his ambitions. He supposed he wanted to show the peons that disobeying the Guild came with consequences. A little show of force to demonstrate his position.

  Still, this was all a bit much for a disobedient girl who insisted on pretending she could have a retionship with a girl. He should've decried her behavior, and tossed her into the stocks for making the Guild look bad. Well, it was what it was.

  Still, how the Hells did that woman curse them?

  Master Heron stood before the gates of the Lesser Pace. He'd been directed here when he stated his business at the gate into the pace complex: to seek an audience with Defender Elderwoods to apologize and make amends. He was led into the small yard between the gates, where soldiers checked him for weapons, and servants questioned him about his business. The chair he was made to sit and wait on was uncomfortable. They left him out in the cold, making it clear he would not be allowed in the wooden structure the guards and servants worked out of. So he sat on a hard chair and shivered, and tried to be happy he didn't have to stand like his entourage. It was only fair. His former Guild had been denounced in this city. Not fair to him or the membership, but the Guild had earned it. Too bad the guy who kicks the wasps nest isn't the only one to get stung.

  He saw a small woman with an entourage pass him. He suspected from the descriptions he'd been given that it was Defender Elderwoods. The guards saluted her, and spoke with formal familiarity. Even the Knights, who tended to be a kind lot, all told. The woman gave him a gnce, and he was surprised how pretty she was. But, it was just that moment of eye contact, and she was gone through the gate ahead of him. Half an hour and a warm drink ter, he was led in.

  He was brought to the south building of the northern courtyard alone, where he was left to wait once more with another warm drink. At least the room was warm. A little too hot, even, in his winter clothing. He dared not dress down. Defender Elderwoods, the woman he saw before, entered with Viscount Lonelyknoll. It was only the three of them, but she was sitting where Viscount Lonelyknoll's eldest son would, if he was here. His heart sunk. Things were so so so very bad.

  "I am Master Heron, a Healer of the Guild of the Fallen Sister."

  "Oh? Not of Salutary Fellowship?" Viscount Lonelyknoll asked.

  "We have decided to part from that Guild. They have done something we find indefensible. For the sake of coin, they attempted to sell one of our members. Something no Guild, least of all ours with our commitment to healing for donations, should engage in. That the god we used to worship should support such an audacious action has left us looking for another patron deity. However, as we were formerly of that Guild, we wish to offer apologies and restitution."

  Another figure stepped in, a tall broad shouldered woman dressed in finery, with an emblem of a circle of stone upon her breast. "My apologies for being te, Viscount Lonelyknoll, Defender Elderwoods." She gave the Viscount a deep bow, and a lesser one to Defender Elderwoods. "May I join as an observer?"

  "For what purpose?" Viscount Lonelyknoll asked.

  "Lady Anya was contracted to me. I should think I have a vested interest in these proceedings. Besides which, soon I may be married to a noble and find myself in a position simir to this. Call it a learning experience."

  Defender Elderwoods scowled at the woman, but if she had objections she did not voice them.

  "Very well," Viscount Lonelyknoll said. "This is Master Heron, recently parted from the Guild of Salutary Fellowship and now of the Fallen Sister. Master Heron, this is Lady Chelsea Stoneshield, granddaughter of Eugene Stoneshield." He shuddered. Well, that was a well known petty god. "As she said, she's who Lady Anya was contracted to."

  He'd been told that Anya, or Lady Anya now, was contracted. That she was contracted to the granddaughter of a petty god is something he would have liked to have known before sitting down with them. Didn't change anything, but he'd rather not have a look of surprise on his face. The Guild Master had been a fool. No doubt now. The Grand Master had to be a fool, too. After all, he'd set up for Anya to be noticed by someone who was reted to someone damn important. And she was married to someone important. He had heard about the Ogre Maker incident a while ago. Learning it was Defender Elderwoods as he prepped for this meeting had the Masters talking about whipping old Harmon.

  This was why Guilds stayed out of politics. This wasn't the first time a Guild ran afoul by having ambitions other than doing good work for coin. Most of the time, when politics happened around them, they could cim neutrality and continue on. When nobles tried to make politics Guild business, they could go to the Imperial Government. They'd tell the nobles off, and they got left alone. When the Guild started it? Usually that ended in fines after the Guild waded through crap. Such a sad state of affairs.

  He bowed. "I apologize for the inconvenience. We are looking for Lady Anya ourselves, but as you must know, the search has not been fruitful." He sat up. "I must ask a question, Defender Elderwoods. What did you do to the chapter house? We'd appreciate it if you undid it."

  "I cursed you." Viscount Lonelyknoll and Lady Chelsea turned to stare at the small woman, both of them incredulous.

  "Secrets given me by my Master," Defender Elderwoods answered the unspoken question. Viscount Lonelyknoll was looking at her critically. "A Priest should be able to remove it. I can, but will not until I have my wife back." Yes, this woman was a poor enemy to pick.

  "That the trick you used to kill the fourth circle Wizard?" Lady Chelsea asked.

  Master Heron choked. He was not drinking, eating, or doing anything. And yet, he choked.

  "Yes. I have gotten much better since then." She turned her eyes on him, and they were cold. "Let us get on with this."

  "We are preparing a new charter, but before we formalize our Guild we wished to make our position clear. First, all of us have recanted Goodbrother, the one who punished Lady Anya. We have disavowed former Guild Master Harmon. He and his ckeys are being sent to the Guild Hall in Shadow Gate. We joined the Guild to help people. I, personally, admired their policy of helping all who needed it, and refusing payment in favor of donations." He kowtowed to Defender Elderwoods. "We all agree, what the Guild Master and Goodbrother did is unforgivable. We request your mercy. If you cannot give us that, then we at least request penance."

  "What would you do if you found Anya?"

  "Heal her. Grant her unconditional membership. Swear Oaths that the Guild will forever be her ally. Send her home to you. Fulfill every demand of hers the best we are able."

  "You seek to repent for your former Guild's ill behavior?" Defender Elderwoods asked.

  "Yes."

  The woman closed her eyes, her fists clenching. "All who live have that right. I will not deny it to you. Repent to her, whom you have wronged. Fulfill the contract with Lady Chelsea that your former Guild is breaking." She turned to Lady Chelsea. "Your family will accept a change of Guilds, given their viotion?"

  "Yes," Lady Chelsea agreed, frowning at Defender Elderwoods.

  Master Heron spoke up, not wanting them to continue with a misconception. "Healer Anya was already set to be repced. One of your brother's agreed to a change of contract, so Salutary Fellowship could recall Anya. They offered to discount the fee."

  "Which brother was it?" Lady Chelsea asked.

  "Lord Jasper," Master Heron said.

  "Of course," Lady Chelsea mumbled. "Then I'm out a Healer. Well, I'll accept one of yours for now."

  "We three shall review your charter and your Oaths. You…" Lady Biyu paused, then turned to Viscount Lonelyknoll, lowering her head. "Forgive me, I speak out of turn."

  "No. This is your consort who was disgraced. I will respect your wishes in this matter."

  "The loss of Healers and Guild presence in this city is suitable punishment for the Guild. I also want the name of the one arranging Anya's marriage."

  "Grand Master Shane."

  Eyes shining darkly, she nodded. "I will need to meet this person." Master Heron didn't envy the man.

  "We wish to open the new Guild as soon as we have finished the paperwork for it. Our coffers will be… tight. We do not wish to request favors, but we were hoping for a reduction in our taxes until we can establish ourselves."

  That got him disbelieving stares. He held up his hands defensively. "We will be working for donations, but we still owe our former Guild its outstanding due. If we cannot operate, we cannot pay. We think this is fair, because…" he petered out under the gres.

  "I will donate some funds to the new Guild," Defender Elderwoods said at st. "A single ingot steel."

  "Then I will match it," sighed Viscount Lonelyknoll. "That would be enough for a year, taxes included, if your frugal."

  Master Heron bowed deeply. "We are in your debt, Defender Elderwoods. I know this is not easy." He paused. "Lady Chelsea, if I'm to fulfill your contract, would you be open to negotiations now? We will charge you as much as remains on the revised contract. That way we can send you a Healer as soon as possible."

  "Do you have any women here?" Lady Chelsea asked. "It seems fitting, somehow, to demand one."

  "We have two… an elderly woman, Master Uma, but she will be the new Guild Master. We also have Valerie. Unfortunately, she is still just an apprentice. We will assign her if you like, but as she is still learning we would request to have her master accompany her."

  "I see. We'll discuss it further once this meeting is done."

  "Very well, Lady Chelsea." He paused a moment. "Is there anything further you would ask of us, Defender Biyu?"

  "I do not trust you. So, no."

  He licked his lips. "This is a little difficult to say, Defender Elderwoods, but we wish to offer you one of our members as a retainer. This is not meant to be a gauche attempt to repce your consort! It's part of our penance, to make our skills avaible to you in perpetuity. Our commitment to making things right." He swallowed. "If it pleases you, I would offer Healer Franklin's services as your retainer."

  She scrutinized Master Heron for a long moment. "Who can speak of his character, outside of the Guild?"

  "He has served Count Lonelyknoll and his household, including Lady Tabitha and her children. Any of them should be willing to endorse him without reservation."

  She gave him a considering look, eyes boring in. He felt like his soul was measured. When she smiled, it felt genuine. "I think I have some measure of ability to see the weight of one's Vices. Perhaps it is a foible of mine that I think so. I certainly do not trust it.

  "That said, your Guild Master was near the line, but you… you are not a bad man. Maybe not good, I cannot tell that, but you are not a bad man. Serve well, and make your new Guild better than the old. Should you do so, I shall not crush you like I will the Guild of Salutary Fellowship."

  After that unnerving decration came the usual dickering when a Guild renewed a contract with a city. Knowing the funds avaible, he was in a hard position to negotiate from. Fortunately, there was still goodwill in Viscount Lonelyknoll for how the former Guild had served his city in the past. Another meeting was arranged, once the charter was ready for review, and they were even granted a temporary writ to man their old clinic.

  During it both Viscount Lonelyknoll and Lady Chelsea kept giving Defender Elderwoods specutive looks. Crushing a Guild was something a Duke might do, but not a Count or Lord of the Road. For a Fortress Lord to decre it would usually be insanity. Neither looked like they doubted she would accomplish it.

  "Defender Elderwoods, there is one small matter I hesitate to bring up."

  "Yes?"

  "Our Healers cannot currently heal. We cannot begin out penance until the curse is removed. The Priest of Lord Charity was quite clear no god would dispel your curse." Viscount Lonelyknoll and Lady Chelsea alike looked fbbergasted, but Defender Elderwoods sat without concern for their stares.

  "Very well. So that you may do your good works, I will release you. However, fail again and I will not be so lenient."

  Master Heron shuddered. He would kick Harmon, just once, for this.