Chapter 30: Good News and Bad
Landar
“I’m going to join Roland as a cleric.”
Tabitha’s words filled our little dining room, living room hybrid, and my parents seemed stunned into silence. Though in retrospect, it was pretty clear that was what was going to happen from our earlier conversation.
“More than a few people have pointed out that it’s a solution to, well, practically every problem we as a family have.” Tabitha tried to continue her explanation, but Elsbeth stopped her with a slow shake of her head.
“Clerics often have to fight. Not just monsters, but bandits and other people. Do you think you could do that?” Elsbeth asked. Her voice didn’t sound accusatory, only concerned for her daughter. Which made my estimation of the woman grow by a few ticks.
I know I would have been freaking out.
“If I have to? Yes. Roland’s already been teaching me how to defend myself, and I’m already an acolyte in the grey. Technically. Roland also said that there are clerics who aren’t very good at fighting, but are much better at magic. And—” She looked embarrassed as she raised a hand and the room was filled with an unnaturally white, soft glowing light. “Well, I’m pretty good at it.”
Elsbeth and Tomas both gasped as they watched the magic slowly dissipate from her outstretched palm. It was only a simple light spell, something I had done in just the first few hours of trying after learning to use mana. But it had a powerful effect on my parents.
Tomas stared at her with wide eyes, amazed at what his daughter had just done. Unable to say anything as a grin slowly grew on his face.
Elsbeth, on the other hand, lunged forward and wrapped Tabitha in a powerful hug. “My baby girl can do magic!” She practically shrieked with delight as the table moved and chairs fell over on their side. When she let her free of the hug, Elsbeth grabbed her shoulders and looked at her square in the eyes. “What do you know how to do? And how did you learn it?”
“Roland taught me. And not much yet. Just the light spell, a simple healing spell, and something he called a basic shield that creates this barrier of light. It can’t stop more than a thrown stone yet, but he says with practice, I’ll get better at it.”
“I have no doubt,” Tomas whispered. He stood and walked around the table. In an instant, he had picked both of the women up in a broad hug. “I couldn’t be prouder.”
***
The next day, my sister went to speak with Sigvald about the change in plans, and I went with her. Roland showed us the way.
“A cleric. Well, there are plenty of clerics who do not serve on the front lines of battle. But all do serve in the fight against evil and complacency.” Sigvald sipped from a small teacup as he sat around the table in the small reception room we had originally met the man in weeks ago. “Clerics, and the grey in general, serve our kingdom to the best of our ability. Healing the sick, cleansing unclean, closing rifts from other words, delving dungeons and more. All of which have their own major risks. The grey are generalised servants, typically with a specialized skill or two. But most lack any major magical aptitude other than a decent spiritual foundation. Few of our number can cast holy magic. Fewer still can do so alone. And you can.”
“Which means I am likely to be conscripted into the army.” Tabitha’s voice was small and constrained.
“Not exactly. You have no practical skills, other than the ability to put on a pretty light show and sow clothes. Things we don’t really have a lot of need for on the march east. More than likely, if you did join the grey, you would be inducted into either the Cleric or the Motherhood where you would serve with Margaret. Mothers and fathers, the higher echelons of the grey priesthood and those who can lead holy spells, are just as rare as clerics after all.
“No. The problem comes from the fact the Blue Priesthood is being onerous about the war. They are worried that some of our more scholarly brothers and sisters will get dragged into it, and we will lose some of the best minds in the duchy. As such, they have petitioned the Duke for a sifting.”
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“What’s a sifting?” I hadn’t heard the term, and whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.
Sigvald sighed deeply and put his teacup down. “It’s not something you should have to worry about, but unfortunately, it is not something I can shield you from. Either of you.” He looked between Roland and Tabitha.
“It is an old practice. One we haven’t been forced to take part in, in generations. It’s meant to encourage speciality through skill selection. All those that have undergone our training as acolytes, and all those of the Blue robes who have done the same, will be pooled together. Same with the Red and the Yellow. And neither of them are happy about this either, though they are much smaller this far west. From that pool, all the Priesthoods will be given the opportunity to select those they feel are best specialized in our orders.”
“I take it the acolytes don’t receive any kind of choice in the matter?” I was gritting my teeth now. It seemed every time we came up with a solution to a problem, something else got in the way. And I could see the motivations of these Blue Priesthood bastards clear as day. They weren’t worried about scholars going off to war. They were worried about their own longevity, and if possible, screwing over a rival.
“Only the choice to refuse the higher orders altogether. In which case, the acolyte is usually offered a position with another organization in service of the duchy. Such as the City Guard, or the Knightly Orders, depending on their skill level and social rank. Rarely are they forced into perpetual service, and then only by direct order of the Arch Duke himself.”
That wasn’t an option either. Other organizations might deny their match, break the engagement, and force her into another. One where she would be seen as little better than prime breeding stock.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“What about later? Would there be an option for an acolyte to retry for another priesthood?” I asked. I was sure we could hide them both away for a period of time, perhaps in the woods if we had to.
Sigvald thought about my question, considering it from multiple perspectives before responding. “Perhaps in another city, such as Bastion to the north, or one of the other duchies. But here in Vlane the orders would be closed to them. At least, that’s what a sifting is intended to do. To force an acolyte into the place they would best serve, their will be damned. And the Arch-Duke has approved it, albeit tacitly. I wouldn’t count on him changing his mind on the issue. He’s a typically fair, but stubborn and prideful man.”
“So, then what?” I demanded. I was getting frustrated. Though I thought well of Sigvald, and was grateful for his help in learning to manipulate mana, produce enchantments, and gain power, every other thing the man did was thwarted by some other bastard’s political maneuvering. And there seemed to be hundreds of them, all trying to turn my sister into a broodmare. “You can’t do anything about this? Are you totally useless, or is it just when you’re trying to protect teenage girls from becoming sex slaves in all but name, that you fail so totally?”
My sister gasped, and Roland turned pale. Well, paler than normal, at least. The kid usually looked like a ghost with freckles, though the freckles had lost their luster. I had lost my cool. I knew I was in the wrong. I was a kid, after all, with no real standing. If someone from high society wanted to kill me out of hand, they could do so for a hell of a lot less than what I had just said. What had happened to me in the street just the other day should have taught me to behave better.
But the Arch-Duke isn’t the only one with a stubborn streak.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but he stopped me with an upraised hand. “You’re right. I have been outmaneuvered. By fate, time, circumstance, and now it seems, by political machination from bitter rivals. I have not succeeded yet, but do not mistake me child. I, we, have not yet failed.”
We sat there for a long time in silence, none of us willing to test the extremely powerful and important man sitting across from us who had only been trying to help. And who I had just verbally stripped like some halfwit drill sergeant who didn’t know they were talking to the base commander.
“There is more that you all need to know. For the situation is worse then you are aware of. I fear your safety has been compromised, Tabitha. Your foundation levels have somehow been leaked to the wider realm of Vlane nobility and high society.”
“If the Priesthood can’t help, then perhaps your uncle?” Tabitha was looking at Roland almost pleadingly. But there was no hope to be found there.
“My uncle’s business prospects have improved, and will continue to improve over the next few months. As he profits from the war, and the high demand on gems it creates. But . . . But my house hasn’t recovered yet. Not enough to help us, anyway.”
Tabitha’s shoulders drooped, and I could tell she was feeling defeated. “Perhaps the blue priesthood won’t be so bad. What are they like?”
Sigvald gave her a sad smile. “If you were a noble, it would be a great opportunity. For a low born person, it is not a good option. Slavery perhaps might be preferable. At least then you might have the opportunity to escape from your masters, where the higher oaths of the blue there would be no escape. You would be entirely reliant on their good graces. Which is not an enviable position.”
“Then, then we run,” the words came out before I could fully examine them. “The dwarf clan that just left. When they return next season, you’ll go with them. At least until something changes here.”
“I would not count on them returning soon. Not at least, until the war is over. The borders are shut, and the Dukes Rangers watch the woods closely. If you ran, you would be found. And it would only take a slip of the tongue in the right ear for the right amount of coin to reveal your location. And your enemies all have very deep pockets.”
“Well, we still have to try. We’ve tried adoption, marriage, and even joining the clergy. Nothing has worked. So, we run.”
Sigvald got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment, as if seeing something that the rest of us couldn’t. “That fool. He couldn’t have.” His eyes moved back and fort for a few moments, before he came to some realization. “I just received word about a development in all of this nonsense. I think I might have an idea. Roland, come with me.” Sigvald stood and swept out of the room, followed closely by Roland on his heels. Before the door closed, he turned around. “Stay here for a few minutes. I need to speak with your betrothed in private.”
As he left, but before the door closed, I heard him ask Roland a question. “Tell me again about how your uncle’s business is recovering?”