Glasswrights' Apprentice (32 page)

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Authors: Mindy L Klasky

BOOK: Glasswrights' Apprentice
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“Where are you going that's so dangerous?”

“I'll be here in the City the entire time. I have enemies, though - people who have more power than they should, who resent the things I must do, the things that will save the City and the kingdom.”

“Things for the Brotherhood.” It wasn't a question.

“Things for the Brotherhood.” Bardo nodded. He did not flinch when Rani reached for the laces on his tunic, untying them so that she could pull the garment to one side, so that she could see the snakes chasing each other across his well-muscled bicep. As she raised a finger to a pair of tattooed crimson eyes, she inhaled the memory of Bardo beating her for being far less familiar. Now, he merely repeated, “The Brotherhood.”

“I want to help you.”

Bardo laughed and pushed away her fingers, lacing up his tunic with an easy grace. “You're too young to help.”

“I'm not too young! I've already done things! Was I too young when I called Tuvashanoran? Was I too young when you made me kill Dalarati?”

Bardo's face tightened, as if he heard someone calling his name from a distance. “We never planned for you to do those things, Rani. We never wanted you involved.”

“But that's the thing. Bardo, I
am
involved! K-killing Dalarati was the hardest thing I've ever done. But when I found out that he was trying to murder you
,
when Larindolian said that he would harm the Brotherhood, I knew I had no choice!”

“Shhhh!” Rani's voice had climbed to a shrill plea, and Bardo's gaze darted down the dark cathedral aisle. “Rani, there are some things you must never speak aloud.”

“I can keep secrets, Bardo.”

He shook his head and reached out a loose fist to chuck her chin. “This isn't just some game you play with Varna.”

She jerked away, muttering to the shadows, “I don't play with Varna anymore - she called the guard on me. Bardo, I can keep a secret. I haven't told anyone that you killed Rabe's mother.”

Bardo's fingers tightened on her shoulder, forcing her around to face him. Rani caught a pained yelp against the back of her teeth. “What did you say?” She tried to pull free from his vise-like fingers, but he did not let her move. “What did you accuse me of?”

“I said, I've never told anyone that you killed Rabe's mother.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

“Who is Rabe?”

“He's a Touched boy; I've run with his troop. I know all about it, Bardo - I know that his mother stole from me when I was minding the store, and I know that you tracked her down to get back the pewter buckles. I remember the slate you bought for me.”

“The slate -”

“And the flowers and gifts for the others. I didn't think to ask about them then, because I was only a child, but now.… I don't know why you couldn't go to the Council and seek justice there, but I haven't told anyone what I know.… Bardo, please, you're hurting me!”

His fingers had shifted to the bandage at the top of her arm, closing about her healing wound with a ferocity that brought fresh tears to her eyes. Now, he smoothed the cloth over her arm, turning her about to face him. When he looked at her, his eyes burned into her own, and she felt dizzy at the vehement force he poured into his words.

“Listen to me, Rani. This is very important.” She managed a trembling nod. “What I've done, what you've heard about me.… All of this is for a reason. All of this was predestined by Jair and the Thousand Gods.”

“But why -”

“Why would the Gods force us to live in castes? Why would the Gods give all their riches to a few, and leave most of their children to scrimp and save, hoping forever to earn enough silver to sleep by a peat fire, for enough copper to buy a pot of porridge? Why should we be the ones to slave away when others have it so easy?”

Rani had never seen the fanatical light that flared behind Bardo's eyes. Maybe it was only a trick of the candles, but her brother's gaze flickered green. She shrunk away from his touch, pressing her spine against the back of the pew.

“Rani, our father worked his entire life to scrape together a few pennies. He hoarded his wealth with a vengeance, parceling out coins and responsibility like a miser. You're too young to understand this, but his life was miserable; he struggled along from day to day.” Bardo gripped her hands and his fingers shook with the force of his belief. “The castes force each of us into submission, force each of us to give away all our possible fates at birth. Who knows what our father could have become if he had not been bound by his caste, by the Council?”

“But
I
changed castes! I became an apprentice!”

“Aye, but at what cost? Our father, our mother, all our brothers and sisters.… We poured all our riches into one pot to get you the faintest toehold on the guildsman's ladder.” Bardo spoke like a priest, like a man consumed by his own fiery words. “Rani, don't you understand? The Brotherhood will change the rules. The Brotherhood will bring Justice to all the City, to all of Morenia, to all the world of the Thousand Gods.”

“What are you going to do?” Rani's voice sounded fragile as a moth's wing against her brother's flaming passion.

“Ah, Rani. I would tell you if I could.” Bardo sighed, and a little of the magic drained from him. “I would share my knowledge with you. But that would only place you in danger, set your life in the balance. I cannot risk the only family that remains to me, the only family to escape the tyranny of our caste. Do you trust me, Ranikaleka?”

Rani's throat closed at the tender nickname, at the playful name he had given her ages ago when her life was simple, in their father's home. She nodded, not able to speak.

“Very good. You must return to the Palace. Go back and live in the nursery. I
can
tell you this. The Brotherhood's enemies are stirring. They call themselves the Fellowship of Jair, but there's nothing about them that Jair would approve. They've been awakened by the unrest in our own ranks. The Fellowship fears us; they fear the changes we will bring. And they realize they can harm us by upsetting the balance, by swaying the power.”

“But who are they, Bardo?”

“You have met one of them, and I'm amazed you've lasted so long without her betraying you.”

Rani felt his words shift into place inside her skull. Who had been manipulating her life? Who had controlled her when she served her time in the marketplace, when Borin would have freed her without requiring further obligation, when she approached the sanctuary of the cathedral close? Indeed, who had manipulated her that very day, toying with her on the edge of the marketplace for so long that she nearly missed the honor of becoming First Pilgrim. “Mair.” She spat the single syllable as if it burned her tongue.

“Aye. I'm sorry, Rani. I know that you believed her, believed the Fellowship's lies. But she is one of their leaders, one of their lieutenants. And this is nothing less than war.”

Rani wanted to protest, wanted to explain that Bardo was mistaken, that Mair was her friend. Even as she thought the words, though, she knew she would not say them. Mair may have seemed her friend, but Bardo was her
brother
.

Besides, how could Mair be trusted? The girl was Touched, born to a life of crafty
manipulation. Sure, she might have seemed like Rani's friend at times, but to what end? Mair's
“friendship” always had a cost - a sweet cake, a copper, Rani's precious silver mirror.

Rani's arm throbbed beneath her bandage. Mair was part of the Fellowship, one of the enemy. It was all so confusing; nothing was ever what it seemed. The Brotherhood, the Fellowship.… Who was Rani to understand such complicated things? She only knew one truth. Her entire family was gone, all but Bardo, who had always been her favorite, most-trusted brother. Even when Bardo had been his most threatening, even that terrible day when she had seen his snake tattoo, he had stayed his wrath. He had mastered his rage because he loved her. Bardo was her
brother
.

Now, Bardo sighed, and the sorrow of a lifetime settled over him like a mantle. “We hear rumors that someone in the Palace is planning a coup. Do you understand me, Rani? Someone is going to kill King Shanoranvilli.”

“No!” She whispered involuntarily, thinking of the frail old man, of the papery hands that had settled on her shoulders - was it only that morning? It seemed so long ago.

Bardo's pained voice echoed her own thoughts. “Yes, I'm afraid. Our sources have tracked the threat to within the Palace walls, and we strongly believe it is one of the princes. The Fellowship has staked a claim to one of Shanoranvilli's living sons. One of the royal princes plots to kill his father.”

“Bardo, you can't let the king come to harm!”

“We are doing all we can. We are searching for facts, for hard, cold knowledge. And that is where you can help us. Rani, we need eyes and ears, we need someone who can tell us what happens inside the nursery. Can you do that for us?”

“That and more, Bardo,” Rani vowed. “The old king, it would break him to know that one of his sons conspires against him. He is not well, Bardo - he took Prince Tuvashanoran's death very hard.”

“Aye, even Dalarati could not have known the force of that blow. We can only guess at the greater evil that soldier spawned before he was stopped, the secrets that he leaked to the Fellowship.” Even as Rani remembered kneeling in Dalarati's blood, she felt proud of the action she had taken. Certainly the Brotherhood had called on her to do terrible things, but these were terrible times. Death lurked in every shadow. People needed to find courage in the bottoms of their hearts, and if that courage was born of fear, of respect for the Brotherhood.…

“That's right,” Bardo nodded, as if he had followed her thoughts. “You must be brave now. You must stay near the king. You are the First Pilgrim, Rani. You can ease an old man's sorrow and work to save him from greater harm. Will you do that, Rani Trader?”

“I will.” She spoke the two words like the most solemn vow she had taken in her life.

“The Brotherhood wants you, Rani, we need you. Keep your eyes and ears open, and work your way into the royal family. There will come a time when we call on you to act, and I won't lie and tell you the action will be easy. Everything that has gone before, Rani, everything that you have done for us, is training for what we might ask of you.”

Rani flashed again on a vision of Dalarati dying, but this time she was not dazed by any hint of self-hatred or doubt. Before she could speak, her brother was digging in a pouch at his waist, extracting something that he enclosed in his palm.

“You cannot come with me, Rani dearest, and I dare not give you the tattoo that would make you a full member of the Brotherhood. Accept this symbol, though, and know that we are working for you to join us, for all the City to join us in freedom and justice.” His hand opened, and she saw a twist of metal, a twining of copper with eight flat glints of glass, sparking to each other across a gap of air. Bardo pushed up the sleeve of her tunic, as high above her elbow as he could reach, and then he pressed the circlet about her upper arm. For just an instant, the metal pulled at her flesh, hinting at the bruise she would have in the morning. Then, it came to rest, deadly cold against her bicep.

“This is a sign that you are bound to us,” Bardo intoned. “You must not let the others see it. If you were truly a pilgrim, you would have renounced it at the altar. Now, let's get you back to the Palace.”

The metal was already warming to her heartbeat, and she flicked her arm as if it were an injured wing, watching the candlelight play off the glinting snakes' eyes. “Bardo - don't leave me!”

“I'm not leaving you, Rani. By this token, I am joining you. Come to pray at night, as often as you can. I'll be here when I'm able.”

She threw her arms about his waist, burying her face in the folds of his cloak. “Please! I'll do anything you ask!”

“This is all I ask, Rani Trader. Be brave, little sister. I'll see you again, and soon.”

He gently pried her fingers from his cloak, and then he flowed down the aisle, disappearing into the midnight darkness as if he had never been in the cathedral. Rani, rising to run after him, stumbled against the corner of Roat's altar. The sweep of her arm as she flailed for balance was enough to make the two votive candles flicker. Before she could move away from the god of justice's altar, the flames drowned in their own wax, leaving Rani stranded and alone in the dark cathedral of the Thousand Gods.

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

“Leave me alone, Marcanado! I can walk down the hallway by myself!” Rani sighed in disgust as the placid soldier followed her down the palace corridors that led to the royal apartments. She was irritated that he was shadowing her, irritated that he would not respond to her blatant rudeness, irritated that Bardo had failed to show up at the cathedral. Again.

It had been nearly a week since she had last seen her brother. In the first month that she spent in the palace, Bardo had met her at Roat's altar regularly, but now it seemed as if Rani had once again been abandoned. She edged her frustration into a high, piping voice. “I
said
, leave me alone!”

The soldier froze as she rounded on him, staring through unblinking eyes, as if she were a strange specimen of moss from the palace garden. His impassivity enraged her further, and she reached out with stiff arms, pushing against his breast-plate. “If you don't stop following me, I'll scream!”

Marcanado clenched his fists at his side, but he showed no other sign of hearing Rani's threat. Enraged, lonely, frightened, Rani threw back her head and howled, a furious keening that begged for release from the role she was playing.

While Marcanado did not give her the satisfaction of a response, there was an immediate flurry of activity up and down the hallway. Iron-clad boots clattered against flagstones as guards rushed to defend the royal family from an unknown threat. A captain shouted orders around the bend of the hallway, and then Rani was surrounded by a bristling thicket of swords, all pointing toward her black Pilgrim robes, all edging downward uneasily as the soldiers recognized the royal family's holy guest.

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