“Can you pass some more mashed potatoes, please?” Callan asked, gesturing to a bowl several seats down. The woman sitting on his right glanced at it and arched an eyebrow.
“You mean the boiled linbains?”
“Uh, sure. Those.” He took the bowl as she handed it to him and gave her his most charming smile. “Thanks, miss...?”
“Call me Millica, Avatar.” The woman, who was probably of an age with Callan’s mother, blushed a little and turned away again. Callan proceeded to heap an enormous pile of the apparently-not-potatoes onto his plate.
Are you sure you want to consume that much? Xeph quipped.
“Absolutely.” Callan paused and frowned down at his plate. “Why? You aren’t going to tell me these are mildly poisonous too, are you?”
Not that I’m aware of. Linbains are a staple in most arid climes. No, I only wish to ensure you haven’t forgotten our ultimate purpose for being here.
“Of course I haven’t. But being an avatar is hard work, and you can’t expect me to match wits with Belinda on an empty stomach.” Out of the corner of his eye, Callan caught Millica glancing at him. He shot her another wide smile and was rewarded with the sight of her cheeks dimpling.
“Pardon me, Avatar.” The grandfatherly man on Callan’s left said, dabbing at his mouth with a rough cloth napkin. At least Callan assumed the things were meant to be napkins. They were placed where a napkin would usually go but had the feel and absorbency of a piece of canvas. “Have you visited any of the other nearby communities? There has been so little word from outside of Aos, and I wonder how they are taking the news of Zavastu’s fall. Did it seem as if many would be open to trade?”
“Falchion, you blundering oaf.” Millica glowered at the man from the other side of the table. “Twenty years now, and you still have the tact of a dvorak in heat. If you want to ask about the trading situation, you could at least try working up to it.”
Callan watched Falchion’s face puff up and turn red. “That’s rich, coming from a woman that’s been fluttering her eyes at a man half her age all evening. Or maybe you think your ridiculous attempts at flirting actually qualify as tact? I’m surprised the poor boy hasn’t fled the table already.”
“At least I have the decency to be polite.”
“Is that what you call this embarrassing display? Politeness? I’ve met braying mules with friendlier dispositions. You’re practically fawning all over the boy.”
“I actually haven’t been to any other nearby communities,” Callan interjected, hoping to break up... whatever the hell this was. “Unless you count the few farms we stopped at along the way. But the biggest of those only had twelve people, maybe.”
“Ah, you mean Clowperch?” When Callan blinked, the man added. “The lilish community that lies one plateau over, just past the pythian.”
“Oh, that one! Yeah.”
“I know it well. Tell me, how did their harvest fair after that last moonrise—?”
“There you go again.” Millica let out a braying laugh, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Can’t keep your eyes on anything but the prize, can you? It’s a wonder you haven’t run that little store of ours into the ground with the way you talk.”
“Yet I won you over, didn’t I?” Falchion smirked at the woman. “Kept my eyes on the prize that time. Much to my ultimate regret.”
“You only managed to ‘claim’ that prize because I saw an investment opportunity for my inheritance. Though I suppose the wind has yet to tell which way that will blow. Unlike your mouth.”
The yeth man’s face darkened, and he started to speak, but the sound of someone clearing their throat silenced the entire table. Callan turned to see Belinda watching from the opposite end, Kivi seated beside her. “Beg your pardon, Avatar. My brother-in-law and his wife aren’t bothering you, are they? One would think a couple who makes their living trading would know when to speak and when it was better to hold their tongues.”
She looked pointedly between the apparent couple as she said this. Neither met her gaze, looking away with embarrassment.
Callan, for his own part, was rather surprised. While Millica looked to be in her late thirties, Falchion had to be at least twice that. He was aware that couples often had differing ages—his own parents were evidence of that—but this seemed rather extreme. Like when a geriatric millionaire married a supermodel back in his world.
...Okay, maybe not quite that extreme. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, was it a situation unique to these two, a trait of village life, or just part of yeth culture? He’d have to ask Kivi later if he got an opportunity.
“So are you and Millica sisters?” he asked, hoping to defuse some of the tension in the room. After all, Xeph was right; they did have important matters to attend to, and the sooner the better.
A thin smile spread across Belinda’s lips about the same moment as Millica snorted. “That one? Sister? With those hips? We don’t look anything alike!”
Belinda’s smile disappeared. “Falchion is my late husband’s brother. The three of us were the original founders of Aos. The only one whose been on this plateau longer is the pythian itself, isn’t that right, Falchion?”
“Yes, yes, we’re a couple of right moldering fossils.” Falchion’s eyes twinkled as he said this, and he flexed his arms. His wife rolled her eyes.
The dinner continued on. Callan finished his not-potatoes and took time to study the rest of the table. Besides himself, there was Kivi and the two lud brothers, Belinda, her daughter Alyssa, Falchion and Millica, and another middle-aged couple whose names he hadn’t caught yet.
No sign of Radavan tonight. Callan wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not yet.
At last, Kivi pushed her plate away. The sound was minute, but conversations around the table quieted at the sight. “Thank you for the lovely meal, Mayor, but I think it is time we moved on to the business at hand.”
About time, Xeph grumbled. Callan could practically feel him rubbing his metaphorical hands together like two miniature tectonic plates. All this potential faith on offer, and none of it being served... I was promised a feast and would like to partake.
“You really need to work on your metaphors,” Called whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Or... whatever the hell that was supposed to be.”
“Yes, quite right, High Priestess.” Belinda turned to her daughter. “Fetch us some tea, wouldn’t you, Alyssa dear? I have a feeling we’ll all need the extra energy before long.”
Turning back, she asked. “Where would you like to start?”
Kivi started to speak, hesitated, then glanced around the table. “You trust everyone present?”
“Much as I trust anyone that I’ve spent half my life around. All of us here are ready to pledge our allegiance to Xeph-Zul-Karatl—”
Yessss....
“—Once the Avatar has fulfilled his obligations.”
No!
Callan chuckled silently to himself as Kivi shook her head. “I would feel more comfortable discussing matters if those present were known to be supporters absolutely. An oath to Xeph-Zul-Karatl would go a long way to ease my mind.”
“How so, exactly, High Priestess?”
“Because if any in this room are already serving Veritas, they will be unwilling or unable to offer their faith to another god. It serves as the perfect test of loyalty.”
Belinda gave another tight-lipped smile, and it occurred to Callan this idea must have already come to her. Why else have so many guests over for a dinner party? The brother-in-law, he understood, but the other random couple only made sense as a bargaining chip.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“I see the logic in your words. Very well. As we draw more villagers into our confidence, we’ll request they swear an oath to Xeph. That should prove an easy way to know who’s with us and who’s against us, hmm?”
“What about your son?” Callan asked. “He’s already in on the secret. Shouldn’t he be one of the first to swear?”
The expression on the mayor’s face soured for the briefest of moments before her smile reasserted itself. “Unfortunately, my son continues to resist the idea of utilizing your... services. He and his family will come around, but until they do, I’m afraid we can’t count on securing his support. But no matter. I know my son. He might fight me on certain issues, but he’s still loyal to this family. You need not fear him revealing our secrets before the time is ripe.”
Huh. It seemed Alyssa was right, the little good-cop, bad-cop routine they’d pulled the other night hadn’t all been just for show. “Does that change anything with your plans for me? Am I still helping Radvan in his fields tomorrow?”
“Why, hoping to get out of an honest day’s work that easily, Avatar?” Belinda let out a mirthful cackle. “Don’t worry. Even if my son wanted you dead in a ditch, free labor is free labor. He won’t turn that down, not if it means securing our adle harvest.”
“Returning to the matter at hand,” Kivi said, drawing attention back to her. “How many can we expect of your promised forty before Veritas is removed as a threat?”
“Hard to say. Guess it’ll come down to how the avatar’s plans for a duel go, and if we need to take the time to root out any cultists hiding in the village. For now. I can promise you... let’s say, ten additional followers? The six of us tonight, and four more over the next few days should I locate anyone trustworthy enough.”
Kivi nodded, but at Xeph’s urging Callan piped up. “Let’s make it twelve, if we can.”
“Oh?” The mayor looked at him shrewdly. “Something particular about that number, or are you just the kind of man that always needs to haggle?”
“A little of both, I guess.” Callan shrugged. According to his head-mate, twelve would see him past the limits of Talc and onto the next tier. While he didn’t know entirely what that would entail, it meant more power, and with a rival god to face down, more power was never a bad thing.
“Hmm. I’ll see what I can do, but no promises,” Belinda said. Kivi gave a grateful nod.
“That is more than acceptable. Now, let us commence, so we can begin discussion of everything you know about the cult. The more information we have, the better we can plan how the avatar will conduct his challenge.”
As the three priests made their way around the table, collecting pledges of undying loyalty and faith, Callan sat back to watch. Inside his skull, Xeph vibrated happily. We are close to the threshold, human. The next tier awaits. Do you know what this means?
“Upgrading my orisons, I assume,” he guessed.
Yes, that, though likely not for some time. It will take a week at least for your expanded conviction pool to fill enough to allow for even one upgrade, assuming you do not commit it to other purposes in the interim. Then, another two weeks after that to fill it again, unless our follower ranks manage to swell beyond anything we’ve achieved so far...
“You never know, Shamain might return from that coastal village with the power of a thousand shiny faithful. Maybe she’ll convert all the crabs along the beach, and the seagulls, too.”
I’ve told you already, mortal, only humans and the elevated races can provide faith! The god let out a gravelly huff. Besides, crabs would make abysmal followers. They have their own gods already, terrible things that feed upon little beyond blood and fear. I do not wish to be associated with such a macabre pantheon.
Callan sat up. “Wait, really? Crabs have their own religion in this world?”
Before Xeph could reply, Kivi tapped Callan on the shoulder. “The gathering is complete, Avatar. May we continue?”
With a start, Callan realized he had a pair of messages blinking in the corner of his vision.
You have been awarded 6 additional faith.
Congratulations! Due to crossing the required threshold of 90 followers, your God Bond has increased to Talc — X.
+1 to all stats
Apotheosis cost of all bounties now decreased by 50%
Conviction rate has increased.
Mountainform’s coverage has also slightly increased.
Next God Bond threshold: 100 followers.
Nice. He checked his interface and saw that their total follower count now sat at ninety-four. Just another six followers and we can see what this next ‘tier’ that Xeph so ominously keeps referring to is all about.
While it would have been nice if the god wasn’t so obtuse about the whole process, Callan suspected he either didn’t know part or all the details, thanks to his little decompression problem. Well, they’d get the answers directly soon enough.
“Now that the matter of secrecy is settled, let us return to the conversation at hand.” Kivi sat and folded her hands in front of her, leveling a piercing stare at Belinda. “Last night set the terms of our contract, but details have been few and far between. What can you tell us about this cult?”
“Not really sure where to begin on that front.” Belinda shrugged. “They wear masks, like I said, which also seems to do something to their voices. Between that and their long robes, I couldn’t begin to tell you who’s behind them.”
“Surely you must have some idea. You’ve known most of your citizens their entire lives.”
“True. Probably why they’re going to such lengths to hide from me. I’ve got a few suspicions just based on who has and hasn’t been present during my arguments with Veritas, but nothing definitive. Plenty of times he only brings a single priest along, and most of the village doesn’t bother showing up but half the time now. Maybe if I’d thought to do a headcount the first few visits, but... well, can’t regret what’s already past and done.”
“Do you at least have an idea of their numbers?” Callan asked. “Even if we can’t determine individuals, a count might give us an idea of their sway here in the village.”
Plus, it might tell them how many he’d need to fight if plans for the duel turned sour, but he refrained from saying that out loud.
“Oh, that’s easy enough.” Belinda considered for a moment. “I’d say at least six, but no more than eight. Unless this god has really been holding back their numbers when they visited, which I doubt. Got to show me that more and more are coming over to their side, don’t they?”
Callan and Kivi glanced at each other. That was several fewer than they’d faced with the cult back in Tok, but then again, they hadn’t had another avatar to deal with, either. This fight could very well be even worse than the last.
Here’s to hoping it doesn’t come to that. He turned back to the mayor. “Xeph has explained to me how these duels work. Veritas will be bound by whatever victory conditions we stipulate, but he isn’t obligated to fight us in the first place. We need to come up with a way to force or trick him into it.”
“I have an idea in that regard,” Kivi said slowly. “If we can identify any villagers who have become priests of Veritas, we can hold them as hostages. If Veritas thinks we mean his people harm, he might be more amenable to an offered challenge.”
“I’ve already told you I don’t want any harm coming to my people,” Belinda said sharply. “You can’t simply torture them to force this other god’s hand.”
Kivi held her hands up. “I promise we will not harm your people unprovoked. However, Veritas does not know that. He need only think we mean them harm.”
“Huh. That just might work. I’ll admit, High Priestess, I didn’t think you had it in you. Might be there’s a little yeth in your ancestry.” Belinda let out a laugh.
“Good. Then we need only begin identifying those who are potential priests, and once we’ve made certain, remove them from Veritas’s influence. Is there a place we can keep them? One that is secure enough they cannot escape?”
“You can use my basement, if you wish,” the middle-aged man who’s name Callan still hadn’t learned yet piped up. “It’s a little ways out of town, so it should be far enough that Veritas won’t hear their shouts.”
Not to mention being out of domain range, Xeph noted. Until we get a look at this other god, we won’t know for certain, but I doubt he’ll have a range that can cover more than half the village. Just in case, the further away the better.
Callan repeated the god’s words to the others. The mayor nodded in satisfaction. “Barnum’s home should be far enough, it’s a good ten-minute walk once you pass the edge of the village. Now all that’s left is figuring out who might be a cultists. Any ideas?”
She glanced around the table, but nobody spoke. Callan cleared his throat. “Why not start by investigating those who have expressed interest in building a bridge? Seems like they’re the most likely candidates.”
“Hah, must be close to half the village by now.” Belinda looked thoughtful. “I suppose once we rule out children and such, that’s only about twenty or so folk. I’ll start drawing up a list, and tomorrow I can—”
“I might know someone,” Alyssa said quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. Once again Callan was struck just how different this woman seemed to the one he’d talked with by the weathervane earlier that afternoon.
“Oh? Well don’t hold your tongue, daughter. Out with it!”
“It’s just...” The yeth woman flushed at all the attention. “I overheard old Dosoti complaining the other night. He was drinking with a few others behind my smithy. Probably didn’t think anyone could hear them back there, but I... He mentioned something about a meeting. It might be nothing, but I can’t imagine...”
“No, I think you have the right of it. Dosoti always has been a vocal critic of my policies.” The mayor glanced at Callan. “This works out for us. Dosoti is one of my son’s fieldhands. You can keep an eye on him tomorrow. Though I doubt he’ll open up to a complete stranger, might be you’ll overhear something.”
“I can do that.” At least that finally justified his time working in the fields.
“Very well. Then let’s consider this meeting adjourned. I’ll continue working on my list of potentials and see if I can’t rustle up a few more people to bring into our inner circle.” Belinda grinned at Callan. “And you best go get some sleep, young man. If I know my son, he’ll be banging on your door far sooner than you’d care for. Lots to do tomorrow, for all of us.”
I think that meeting went rather well, Xeph noted as Callan shuffled out into the dark with the others. We have our primary plan laid out, and should that fail, there is always the backup. Though I’m surprised that our high priestess did not mention anything about it.
“Gotta keep some secrets, Xeph.”
Hmmph. How very yeth of you.
Callan glanced back at the house, where Belinda stood, silhouetted in the light of the doorway. Alyssa stood behind, glancing over her shoulder. Briefly, her and Callan’s eyes met.
“Sure. Whatever.”