The Guild (32 page)

“Actually, I have that covered for you,” Marta informed her, pulling out a stiff-paper folio from the messenger-style bag slung over her shoulder. Blinking, Rexei found herself the owner of a sheaf of papers, and the advice to, “Just bring up the laws on the summary sheet and call for a vote to change them in the ways indicated, and you should be able to get a portion of the previous mandatory tithes to the Priests Guild transferred over to the Holy Guild in no time.”

“Right. Thank you, Grenspun,” she said, still a little off-balance by how efficient the woman was. Clearing her throat, Rexei gestured at the doors in the distance, ones that led into the meeting hall. “We should head on in and discuss what we can of your thoughts and expectations before the meeting begins.”

“Will we get to see Her?” Alsei asked her. “Guildra?”

“I’m not sure when,” Rexei said, feeling a bit odd as two youngsters and a man old enough to be her grandfather followed her to the meeting chamber. “I’m told that manifestations take a lot of, uh, faith-energy. She said She wouldn’t appear again until things
were more settled. By that, I suspect She meant a lot more people acknowledging and worshipping Her.”

“Well, according to what I read in some of the old books in the Binders Guild,” the younger woman said, “if we’re going to vote to become a kingdom tonight, we’re going to have to ring a sacred bell, and then prove we have a Patron Deity by manifesting said deity.”

“Just so long as Mad Mekha doesn’t pop back to life when we do so,” Pensen muttered. “I’ll take any God over Him again. Just about. Won’t take a God or Goddess that’s worse.”

“Smart lad,” Jorro stated.

Rexei let the other two enter the hall first, but paused the old man with a hand on his arm. “A moment, if you please. Master Jorro . . . why did you agree to be my apprentice? You’re a master thrice over, highly ranked as a Gearman. Why join the Holy Guild? Someone who is young, I can understand being willing to try something new, but you’ve suffered for decades under the old system.”

Her comment earned her a smile and a tap of his finger first on the tip of his own nose, then on the tip of hers. “That’s it, exactly, young man,” Jorro told her. “I
have
suffered under the old system. And what Mistress Grenspun described to me, what she recorded of your thoughts on the matter, is very much in line with my own thoughts over the years. I just wish I’d thought of a Patron of Guilds myself, since it’s so suitable.

“Besides, you’ll get the younger ones to follow you with young apprentices in tow, but to snare a master-rank in three disciplines of my years? That’ll command the respect of the older set.” He tapped her one last time on the nose, then on his own.

Rolling her eyes, Rexei lifted her finger and tapped the edge of it on his nose as well. “Mind your manners,
apprentice
, and have some respect for your Guild Master. No more nose bopping. I’ll let those ones pass, but no more, or you’ll be stuck with the scut work . . . if I ever have any that needs doing.”

He chuckled, not in the least offended by her sass, daring to speak like a gray-bearded grandmaster to a man who looked old enough to be her grandfather. She couldn’t even remember her grandparents, though. As it was, she could barely remember her two half brothers and her father.

The shock of seeing a man who looked very much like her eldest half brother, Lundrei, in the third row of the now very packed meeting room blew all other thoughts out of her head a few moments later. She stared, blinked, then shook it off.
It couldn’t be him. He looks to be in his thirties . . . Oh. Right. He
would
be in his thirties,
she thought, sneaking another look.
Is that the badge of the Laticifers Guild on his shoulder? Yes, a tree branch with a drop falling off of it, representing the rubber sap that guild collects for things like tires and piston gaskets and such. It’s probable that after Mother’s disappearance, Father and my brothers split up and scattered. But that can’t be Lundrei.

“I suppose you want to know my reasons for joining?” Alsei asked her, distracting Rexei. At a nod, the younger woman launched into a tale about how she’d always felt sheltered by the Guild System, and . . . Rexei knew she should pay closer attention, but the man in the third row, with the master’s medallion and the dark brown hair, with the little mole just in front of his right ear, really did look like her long-lost brother. “. . . So that’s why I’m not afraid,” the blond girl concluded. “And I want to prove right off the top that women can be priests . . . er, members of the Holy Guild, too.”

Rexei nodded, pleased the girl had foreseen that need as well. “You have my complete support in that, and I’m glad you’re so willing. Now, I have a quick task for you, while I chat with Pensen about his reasons. See that fellow in the third row?” she asked, nudging Alsei around and pointing at the man who looked so familiar. “Would you go ask him if his mother’s name was Luwese, long, long ago? And if his next-mother’s name was Yula?”

“Uh . . . sure. And if he says yes, or if he says no?” Alsei asked her.

“If he says yes or if he asks who wants to know, ask him to stay after the meeting so that the Guild Master of the Holy Guild can pass along a message. If he says no, then thank him for his time, and apologize for bothering him,” she instructed.

Nodding, Alsei moved forward. Forcing her attention to the other youth, Rexei looked up at Pensen. “What about you? What are your reasons for apprenticing in the new Holy Guild?”

He shrugged. “Marta knows I’m a cousin of Master Tall’s. A couple generations removed. Never had any affinity for . . . you know,” he added, fluttering his fingers in a little ripple, the kind suggestive of spellcasting without actually saying the dreaded
M
word aloud. “I want to make sure the new guild’s safe for ’em. That, and I qualify with three different guilds.” He eyed her from his lofty full handspan of extra height and shrugged. “I would like to get paid, though.”

“So would I,” Rexei muttered, her gaze slipping to Alsei, who had reached her target. The man started, blinked, and searched the crowd. Following the pointing of her cream-clad arm, he stared at Alsei’s target. Rexei stared back. It was rather disappointing to see no sign of recognition in the man’s gaze, only confusion. Guessing that the answer was
no
, she sighed and turned toward the eldest of her trio. “I already know your reasons, Jorro, and I can appreciate them. Please find yourselves a seat, or a spot on a wall or the floor. I may or may not call you up for proof of apprenticeship, though I’ll still need to get you some medallions made.”

“I know some people in the Engravers Guild,” Jorro offered.

She smiled. “I earned my second journeyman rank in the Engravers Guild. I just have to get my hands on some tools and materials.”

“Do we have a place to stay tonight?” Pensen asked. “Because I’ve come from Luxon, and I only have so much money on me.”

“I’ll see what can be arranged,” Rexei promised, hoping Alonnen would be willing to be generous toward her new apprentices. He had created more quarters in the outer circle of the Vortex, after all, so surely there might be some room there for them, even if it had to be shared. At least until she could figure out a safe place for everyone to stay that was still within reasonably close reach of her quarters in the inner circle of the Vortex. She didn’t want to be without its protections, not until the demon summonings were completely thwarted and the last ambitions of the priesthood broken.

Alsei made her way back through the crowd to Rexei. She smiled. “He said yes to both,
and
he wanted to know why, so I told him you’d have a message for him after the meeting.” Her shoulders shrugged. “He also wanted to know
how
you knew, but I didn’t know, so he’ll probably ask you that, too, when you give him whatever the message is. Unless you’d like me to pass it along now?”

The sound of stone striking stone cracked through the hall. Rexei shook her head. “Find a place to sit with your brother apprentices—and thank you for asking him that,” she added. “I need to go join the other Guild Masters at the head table now.”

Nodding, Alsei moved to join the other two in finding a place to settle and observe. The hall was absolutely packed, though; the trio ended up having to sit on the ground in front of the foremost row of pews, while Rexei found herself sharing the same bench not only with Guild Master Grenfallow but another woman. With Grenfallow taking up the middle, the two relegated to sitting on the ends of the bench could barely plant a single buttock on the padded top. Turning sideways allowed Rexei a more secure perch, but that left her facing the back wall, since the other woman was seated facing the front.

As Grandmaster Toric rapped for order, someone brought up a stool liberated from elsewhere in the building, which allowed the
woman on the end to perch on it. Grenfallow slid over, and Rexei turned and accepted her share of the bench more fully, if on the other side of the curvy head of the Actors Guild from the previous time. That gave her a chance to put down Marta’s papers and quickly peruse the top sheet.

The more she read, the more she had to admire Grenspun’s ability to think of a million little details and organize them by importance, necessity, and urgency.
I wonder if I couldn’t convince her to join my guild, just for her sheer organizational skills . . . or maybe not
, she thought.
Maybe I should point her in the direction of whatever sort of government we should have.

Rule by committee is fine for some things, but only if we have the time for them. The Patriarch ruled in times of peace, and the Precinct generals in times of war . . . or at least areas of war, but even they reported back to the Patriarch. So we need a King or a Queen or something . . . but that would imply a hereditary rulership, and it’s a very common Guild Charter law that no offspring is
guaranteed
any rank in a parent’s guild beyond that of apprentice . . . and at that, for only one month. The rest, the child has to earn.

I have no idea how we’re going to rule ourselves,
she admitted, turning her thoughts toward the Heavens.
Gods and Goddesses . . . and in particular,
my
Goddess, Guildra . . . I hope You’ll give us good, solid ideas on what to do in the coming weeks and months and years.

Grandmaster Toric rapped his stone-tipped gavel one more time, this time in the pattern that invoked the Consulate meeting, and then there was no more time for idle speculation. Rexei was a Guild Master of a shattered nation that had to vote on whether or not to
be
a whole nation, or at least whatever parts of said nation cared to rejoin with its brethren. That would require concentration, even if the meeting threatened to run long.

It was only early afternoon, and it looked like the food was being supplied by the Hospitallers Guild this time; if the meeting
ran to suppertime, there would undoubtedly be spicy and sweet pocket pies for everyone to eat, shipped in from the nearest taverns and inns.
Thank the Gods . . . Guildra, I mean
, she corrected herself.
Thank You for small, tasty favors.

• • •

A
lonnen did not like the way that sap master in the third row kept staring at the new head of the Holy Guild. It had taken him a good hour of covert study to realize the symbol on the other man’s master’s medallion was the branch and sap of the Laticifers Guild. There was no logical connection he could see between the makers of tree-sap rubber and Rexei’s lengthy history . . . unless perhaps the man knew her from her short time in the Lumber Guild. A short time, however, would surely not have generated any of the intense looks aimed her way.

When Grandmaster Toric finally ended the meeting, Alonnen’s mind was not on the laws that had been altered and passed. It wasn’t on the extra budget allocated to his guild for paying for the rehabilitation and reintegration of the mages who
had
to be passed to the safety of the carefully unmentioned Vortex, because their personal shielding was nearly nonexistent after too many years of being locked in spell-controlled mindlessness. It wasn’t on the fact that the Holy Guild now
had
a budget; one-third of the funds originally tithed to the Priests Guild were now allocated to her needs and the other two-thirds to a new-kingdom fund, but only those funds from all the cities which had attended and agreed to become a part of Guildra.

He wasn’t even thinking about the fact that they still needed a blessed, sacred bell to formally ring and summon proof that they were their own kingdom, with a Patron and a voice and an identity, though they now had eight cities and villages firmly under the banner of Guildara, and seven more whose representatives needed
confirmation from the folks back home that this was the right thing to do.

His thoughts arrowed in on the need to get Rexei away from that older man before . . . well, he didn’t know
what
might happen. Rising from his seat the moment Toric set the mallet down, Alonnen hurried to the end of the table. Stooping over Rexei’s shoulder, he reached for the papers in front of her. “Right, then. Time to go.”

“I can’t leave just yet,” she murmured back, pressing the papers back down when he tried to lift them. “I have someone to talk to first. Plus my apprentices need a place to stay,” she added. Looking up at Alonnen, she gave him a wry smile. “I’d prefer it if that were somewhere near my current residence, but if you’d rather not, then I can get them somewhere here in town. At least I have the funds to pay them some wages now.”

“I’ll see what rooms can be found for them. But we really have to go now,” he warned her, seeing a certain dark-haired man working his way forward through the tide of bodies headed for the doors out of the meeting hall. Beside Rexei, Guild Master Grenfallow murmured a farewell and rose, her own notes cradled in her arms. Alonnen lifted his chin in reply, but he didn’t look at Saranei. She wasn’t the one who concerned him at this moment.

Rexei caught his stare and followed the line of his gaze.
So that’s what this is about. He’s trying to be protective of me.
She thought that was very nice, but unneeded at this point in time. Covering the hand still trying to pick up her papers, she smiled up at him. “It’s okay. I
asked
him to come talk to me.”