CHAPTER 17: THE COUNCIL
“No, no, no! Dragons don’t actually breathe fire! They have innate spells. Magic woven into their very being they can manipulate and use. They aren’t spitting up oil or belching flammable gas. Dragons cast a powerful elemental attack spell molded by the Dragon's experience and personality. It’s why no two Dragons have the same breath! Sure, most spit flames, but the nature of the fire varies dramatically between them. Now, does anyone else have stupid questions, or can we move on?” - Lecture of Professor Orden of Oga. (Tenured) Preceptor of Draconic Studies at Parilux’s Ivory tower.
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The City Palace of Vindabon was a veritable treasure chest of a building. As in, its outside was hard and armored while its innards were filled with wealth. Sitting in the City Council’s chambers, Cole was distinctly uncomfortable. The long rectangular room was violently opulent. Rich tapestries and expensive mirrors covered the walls. While the marble floor was so polished, it nearly matched the mirrors. The chamber’s vaulted ceiling went up three stories at least and balconies stuck from the walls like stone scallops.
Normally those balconies were reserved for the people of Vindabon who wanted to see their government in action. In the early hours of the morning after the riot, they were blocked off. The Council was in a private session. Its haggard members and their even more so staff finishing off a night's worth of grim business. The City Court, the higher governing body of nobles, had not convened, leaving the Council to try and make sense of things.
Cole, for his part, sat as part of the Temple delegation. Hierophants of all ten temples sat near him in the cloister of chairs set aside for them. The Caul had broken shortly before Dawn, and the Priests had come to inform the City of that small piece of good news. Radiant Robyn had just finished giving their testimony to the Council. The Eclipse Dancer had received the scorched Arrow of Saint Arka from Cole upon his arrival. To his relief, the Radiant Hierophant didn’t hold the relic’s condition against him. Robyn knew full well the powers at play when a God manifests even slightly. Still, they’d been genuinely surprised Cole was up and about, let alone alive. Something Cole hoped and prayed the Dancer wouldn’t dwell on.
Morri sat next to Cole and gently rubbed his shoulder against the large Paladin. Seeing he’d caught Cole’s attention, the old Restbringer whispered. “You alright, Cole? I’ve not seen you this twitchy before?”
Shrugging, Cole bent down to answer. “I don’t like this place. Reminds me too much of old enemies.”
Frowning, Morri looked around them. Examining the chamber for what Cole was talking about. The metaphorical stone slipped into place as Morri figured out what Cole meant. “The Duchies… “
Cole nodded. “Their Nobles like things a bit darker, but the general style is similar enough.”
A bitter chuckle escaped the Priest. “I wouldn’t go repeating that to many. But there's some truth and some poetry to your words.”
Grunting in agreement, Cole looked up to the high table of the council. Where the eleven Councilors sat. None except the Chair were of noble blood. Each a respected citizen of Vindabon chosen by the Elector-Prince from the candidates the citizenry selected. While the Holy League tended to be more egalitarian than its neighbors. Vindabons strange government was considered radical. A product of the city's strong Guilds and Merchant Class. All of the Councillors looked tired. One even wore a bizarre mix of night clothes and symbols of office. The old Banker had been roused and rushed to the Palace without time to dress.
The Chairman was the only one with a measure of the usual poise you’d expect from a city official. Clad in a sharp black doublet with oiled silver hair was Graf Isac Louon. The nobleman had lean, almost gaunt features, with a pointed beard and unnatural eyes. They were dull gold like old coins. A strange feature that made Cole wonder about Louon’s ancestry.
When the dust and ash of the Bloody Centuries started to settle, all manner of Power was available for the taking. Magics and territories once firmly controlled fell into the hands of whoever could keep them. From that scramble, known as the Crowning Wars. Most Noble Houses of the Holy League came into being. The bedrock of Noble privilege was the various relics and resources taken in those days. Looking at Graf Louon’s eyes, Cole guessed whatever power his family possessed, it ran through blood, not just inheritance.
Radiant Robyn finished their deposition then, and it came Cole’s turn. As the Dancer returned to the seated Priests, Graf Louon called for the Paladin. “Cole of Atredia, Paladin of Tenth Temple. Step forward.”
Trying to hide his nerves, the large Restbringer got up and went to the Podium. Elevated slightly, so it was slightly below the Counselors at their high table. The Podium was like any speaker's box in a court of law. Stepping into it, Cole noted his height put him at eye-level with the Council. Something they clearly noticed. A few of the Councilors gave him uncomfortable looks. Clearly put off by his appearance. Even disregarding the scars, he was clad in blood and ash-stained armor. With the odors of the warrens and foul death clinging to him
Graf Louon wrinkled his slightly-pointed noise at the smell and spoke. “You have been called to give testimony about the events of last night. In particular, the unauthorized expedition into the Warrens and Undercroft. Alongside the Werefolk Riot and the absconsion of a refugee Vampire.”
Cole’s eyebrow twitched at the Nobleman's loaded language. Glancing down to the scrivener's bench in the gap between the high table and Podium, Cole noted the Council recorder was hard at work. A shrewish woman with oversized spectacles sat with a pile of blank parchment and five quills floating eagerly above matching vellum sheets. As Graf Louon spoke, the quills started dancing. Transcribing the Noble's words onto all five pieces of parchment.
Looking up at the council, Cole spoke. “Yes, I am here to inform the city of my successful hunt for a Demon. Along with my efforts to end the attack on the Moonmoot camp.”
It was the Graf’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Cole paid it little mind. He’d spent a life among Vampires. He knew the truth-twisting-tongues they and all Politicians liked. Playing their game was useless, but acting like a bull Auroch among glassware would keep them both uncertain.
One of the other Councillors, a lean woman with tall hair dyed rose-red, asked. “So it's true? A Demon beneath our city? And you killed it?”
Cole noticed she held a necklace of amulets in her boney fingers. Letting the ten divine sigils cast in metal slip in and out of her digits. A sign of devolution, or at least fear. “Yes, it had been hibernating since the Volga Incursion. The Saint’s arrow could not destroy it, but was enough to trap it. Something, I don’t know what woke it up. But I do know it was feeding on the City's Desperate. Trying to grow strong enough to escape.”
There was silence, only broken by the Scrivener’s scratching. The Councillor with the prayer necklace lifted them to her painted lips and kissed them in quick succession. Her fellows looked equally distrubed. Cole could understand why; the idea of something capable of eating your soul being hidden just beneath your feet all this time was stomach-turning.
The questions continued, Cole offering up his account of things. Only cutting out a few details about his nature and Natalie’s. The Council accepted his testimony without issue until he got to the matter of the Gate and the Soldiers. A Councillor with muttonchops so big they obscured his ears made a fierce harrumph and jabbed at Cole.
“Nonsense! The Gate was left open! An oversight, not some conspiracy. The Vampire is lying!”
Cole glanced at the Councillor and asked. “Why? ”
Jowls and Muttonchops a flutter, the Councillor replied. “What?”
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Cole asked: “The Vampire in question has been cooperative and helpful. She was turned against her will and fled the Blood Duchies seeking asylum here in Vindabon. What reason does she have to lie?”
Puffing himself up like a rooster, Councillor Muttonchops snapped. “It makes no sense for the Guards to open the gate. However, it does make sense for one of Drakovich’s agents to be stirring our pot. Putting ideas in frightened heads and sowing doubt about our venerable institutions.”
Another Councillor, this one with thick arms and a huge neck, interrupted Muttonchops. “This Vampire… you smuggled it into the city without the Temple's permission? And it fled the city to the Werefolk camp, correct?”
Lips tight, Cole corrected. “She, but yes, that is technically correct. But the details are-”
Cole was cut off by the Councillor with the prayer necklace. “Come now, dear Colleagues, we’ve discussed the refugee before. As far as I’m concerned, her presence in the city is a Temple matter. We have bigger jewels to cut than the Paladin’s prisoner.”
Unwilling to leave the matter of Natalie on that note, Cole continued: “My arrival with her was poorly timed. We’d hoped to avoid conflict, but our caution instead provoked it. There was no intention to hide her arrival from the city. And as for her actions with the Werefolk, she went to warn them. Using her abilities for good instead of ill.”
Chairman Louon narrowed his gold eyes at that. “Aid that resulted in the deaths of hundreds. I hear your Temple has been using buckets to collect some of the remains. Fascinating that the Vampire’s ‘help’ caused a massacre.”
Both Cole and one of the Councillors went to speak. Trying to be civil, Cole let the heavy-set man with a shiny bald head speak first. “Hold their Isac; that isn’t strictly fair. The Rioters were going to attack the Moonmoot. Those damned fools were going to get themselves killed. I doubt the Vampire did more than decrease the Werefolk’s losses. This was gonna get bloody no matter what. Ironically the Leech probably made it a little less so.”
Louon glared at the reasonable Councillor and shot a rebuke: “Korgun!” Cole mentally noted the Councillor's name. Figuring if this Korgun was to be an ally, Cole should at least know his name.
Snapping at his colleague, Graf Louon said, “These were our people! They might have been out of line, but they were our citizens!”
Korgun shrugged, sending his ponderous belly wobbling. “Our people and our responsibility. You do realize there will be consequences if we alienate the Werefolk?”
Muttonchops scoffed. “Oh please, the amount of trade they bring to the city barely matches the cost of flea removal!”
Councillor Korgun actually picked up a wad of paper and tossed it at Muttonchops. “Don’t be daft, Snythe. The Jarls want any excuse to raid our northern kin. Let’s not go making problems for the entire bloody League, shall we?”
Silently, Cole decided to just keep calling Snythe, Muttonchops. Muttonchops and Korgun continued arguing. More about the practicality of the situation than any morality. Which Cole had to admit was typical for politicians. As they did, Cole noticed an aid scurry up to Lououn and hand him a sheet of paper. Those strange golden eyes narrowed as the Graf read.
Setting down the paper, Graf Louon cut off his colleagues and addressed Cole. “Tell me, Paladin, did you and the Vampire travel through the Bekesvarm region of the Southern Marches?”
Confused, Cole thought on his trip with Natalie. Trying to map their strange route to his knowledge of the Southern Marches. “I… I believe so. We took back routes, but yes, we did pass through there. Why?”
Graf Louon crumpled up the paper he held, and to Cole’s surprise, the note burst into flames. Louon barely noticed, just glaring down at the Paladin. “Because we’ve received grim news from the region. An outbreak of Lesser Undead destroyed nearly a dozen Steadings and Villages. A swarm of Ghouls, the local Garrison, barely managed to put down. Would you know anything about this?”
Eyes wide, mouth agape, Cole’s body language told the Council everything. Dumbfounded, Cole still answered their accusatory glares. “I encountered some Bandits who’d been raiding Steadings in those parts. I dealt with them and the Ghouls produced by their carnage. None of the Ghouls should have escaped me. I don’t know how this happened.”
A Councillor with gaudy jewelry and a double chin remarked. “Clearly, you missed some. I’m disappointed, Paladin. You’d think someone of your status wouldn’t make such an easy mistake. Especially one that led to the deaths of hundreds.”
Cole felt his stomach plummet to the ground for the second time that night. His guts ripped right out of him by the weight of guilt. He’d been badly injured dealing with the Shohgards and busy with Natalie. Could he really have missed a Grinner? Letting the infestation spread while he traveled west with the Werefolk?
Making a bridge with his fingers and resting his elbows on the high table, Graf Isac Louon said: “We received that report maybe a week ago. It came to my attention when one of my Aids noticed a few interesting details in it.”
Glaring at Cole, Louon continued. “Some survivors witnessed a strange pair of travelers near the source of the infestation. Describing them as a ‘Giant of a Man with scars all over him.’ and a ‘Strange woman all in black who commanded him.”
Utter confusion stirred the guilt in Cole until his head started to spin. Had someone really seen them? They’d passed a few fellow travelers, but none he could remember in that region. How could he have missed someone close enough to see his scars?
Louon paid no mind to Cole’s unsteady bearing and kept talking. “Shortly before the Undead were discovered, the body of a Hippogryph Knight was discovered. He was killed by a Vampire. Would you happen to know anything about this?”
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That brought Cole right back to reality. A Knight? Killed by a Vampire? No, something wasn’t right. The rest of this was plausible, but this element changed things dramatically. Natalie couldn’t be responsible… could she? A traitorous part of Cole’s mind whispered to him about Natalie’s lies. She hadn't told him about contacting Isabelle. Could she have hidden something else? Cole pushed those thoughts away with the fact Natalie couldn’t have done this without his knowledge. Unless… If Isabelle had helped or manipulated her. Knowingly or unknowingly? Paranoia added to the caustic brew of Cole’s emotions, and he tried to ground himself.
A frowning Graf Louon asked: “Well? Do you know anything about this?”
Swallowing, Cole answered. “I do not.”
Councillor Jewelry made a concerned noise. “It seems to me your prisoner was up to more than you thought. How did you not notice, Paladin?”
As Cole tried to find an answer, Graf Louon said the obvious. “The Vampire has gotten into your mind, Paladin.”
Instant rage boiled in Cole. In a voice cold and hard as arctic granite, he snarled. “Have you ever been exposed to mind-warping magic, Chairman? Have you ever had something try and slither into your mind and make you its thrall?”
The entire Council seemed taken aback by the sudden outburst, and none stopped Cole. “Because I have! I’ve been tortured, mutilated, had my mind invaded, and my very soul tainted. From first-hand fucking experience, I know what that feels like! So, believe me when I say that is not the case here!”
Cole barely noticed the entire chamber had cooled drastically. Aids and onlookers were shivering. While frost escaped his mouth with every breath. Surprised, Cole felt his power and how it had reacted to his rage. Pushing his mantle down and ending the accidental release of magic. Cole bowed his head in apology. “I’m sorry for that. It has been a long ugly night.”
Graf Louon let silence settle for a moment. In which Cole noticed the man’s breath wasn’t frosted. Before breaking it with a casual dismissal of Cole. “I got another report from the City Watch. When they captured you and the Vampire, they found you in bed together. Even if she hasn’t worked any magic on your mind. She’s clearly influencing you through sex and your emotional instability.”
Cole, for a brief moment, wanted to strangle Iron-Teeth for including that detail in his report. Pushing his anger to a more deserving target, the Nobleman before him. Cole grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “That is not the-”
Louon cut him off with a gesture, literally. Cole’s mouth lost any sound, his words died in dead air. Struggling against the spell, Cole heard Louon make his pronouncement. “Motion to dismiss the Vampires' testimony from the record?”
The Graf raised his hand, and so did the other Councilors. Nodding, Louon said. “Motion passed. Motion to dismiss this Vampire’s petition for asylum?”
More hands were raised. “Motion passed. We will leave her fate to the Temple and its judgment.”
The Councilors bobbed their heads in agreement, and the one with the prayer necklace said. “It's for the best, Sir Paladin. You wouldn’t be the first hero ensnared by a beautiful Monster.”
Graf Louon nodded in agreement. “Yes, despite your weakness for the creature, the city of Vindabon thanks you, Sir Paladin. Your actions against the Demon and in ending the Riot have our utmost gratitude. You may go.”
Cole felt like someone had disemboweled him, poured acid into the open wound, and sewed his guts back together. Had… had he just gotten Natalie killed? Fear and guilt raged within him, and he considered his options. Could they flee? If Vindabon wouldn’t take her, then nowhere in the Holy League would. Maybe they could go North to the Jarls. Travel with a Werefolk pack if the Shohgards vouched for them. Or could they take a ship to the Sultanate? Cole doubted they’d find much acceptance there, but maybe it would be a good place to hide? Maybe, maybe, maybe! No certainty anymore, no safety.
A loud cough interrupted Cole’s panicked spiral. He looked back to the group of Priests where Morri had risen. The Council looked to him, and Graf Louon asked. “Yes, Hierophant Morri?”
Scratching his chin, the old Priest asked. “You are putting the burden of judgment on the Vampire on the Temple?”
Louon looked to his fellows and nodded. “Yes, the city will not offer her asylum. We leave her to the Temple's mercy. Do as your God wills, Hierophant.”
Nodding, Morri walked up towards Cole and the pulpit. Went past him, looked down to the Scrivener's pit, and grabbed a stack of papers. The Scrivener yelped in surprise but didn’t countermand Morri. Picking up the transcript copy, Morri set it on Louon’s desk.
“Well then, sign and stamp this. So we have it all official and can get this over with.”
Golden eyes narrowed, Louon passed the transcript between the Councillors. Who each added their signature to the front and last page. An aid then put the parchment into an envelope, and Louon sealed it with his signet ring.
Taking the transcript from them. Morri nodded. “Please have someone send the report on the Undead Attack to the Temple. I’d like to review it.”
Louon seemed to hesitate, but Councilmen Korgun spoke for him. “Seems reasonable; I’ll have it sent over to you as soon as possible.”
Nodding to the corpulent Councillor, Morri went to Cole. Gripping him gently by the elbow, he led the Paladin out of the Council chamber. A confused and scared Cole started to speak, but Morri cut him off. “Not here, too many eyes and ears.”
They exited the City Palace. Leaving its huge fortified bulk behind them as they set off toward the Tenth Temple. Pale winter dawn shone over dirty streets and frosted refuse. The city had suffered from the Riot. While most of the anger had been directed down Woad Way and towards the Werefolk. Plenty more had spilled into the rest of the city. Opportunists and worse had looted and destroyed whatever they could. Even now, a few buildings still smoked, their ruined husks feeding the last smoldering flames.
Once they were close to the Thirteenth District, Morri stopped. Holding up the envelope with the signed transcript, he chuckled. “The Louons are all the same. Overbred, arrogant lie-spawn certain of their control.”
Confused and losing patience rapidly, Cole growled. “What did you do, Morri?”
The Priest looked at Cole, a mirthless smile on his face. “Took Ms. Natalie’s fate out of the city's hands and put it in Master Times. Louon expects us to execute Natalie on principle. He doesn’t know how important that girl is. Or what measures Master Time has taken to keep her safe.”
Eyes wide, Cole said, “Does… does that mean she’s safe?”
Morri nodded. “For now. I’ll need to look into this Hippogryph Knight business.” Then reaching out, he gripped Cole’s shoulder hard. The Priest's hands were knotted and strong, especially for someone in his seventh decade. “But if Master Time says she needs to be sealed away or released, I will follow that command. I trust you will do the same?”
A shameful flicker of uncertainty went through Cole. Would he really be able to? Thinking of his God and his Lover, Cole sucked in a breath. “I will.”
Morri nodded. “It's hard, son, but that's why these choices fall to us. The Gods entrust us with a duty we cannot fail.”
Cole nodded as well. His moment of hesitation had scared him, but it had let him come to a new conclusion. He had faith. Not just in Master Time but in Natalie. Faith neither would put him in a situation where he’d be forced to make that choice.
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Arriving back in the diplomatic quarters he shared with Natalie, Cole chewed on the day and night insane events. The combat drug he’d been using to stay upright had finally burned through his system. Exhaustion and information overload had him ready to sleep for a week. He’d barely been able to digest the news that Natalie's meeting with the Anchorite had gone well. Keeper Glynn seemed almost… enthusiastic about Natalie now. Something Cole chalked up to his exhausted mind playing tricks on him.
The Apartment was dark, its glowstones dimmed with the day, and its curtains were drawn tight. A familiar lump lay underneath the blankets, and Cole let out a relieved breath. After the disastrous meeting with the Council, some part of Cole had feared she’d be gone. Taking off his gauntlets, Cole went over to the bed and pulled the covers down a little to make sure Natalie was really there. A still body and pale face greeted him. His Vampire sleeping the day away. The sight of a sleeping Vampire was always unnerving, even for someone used to it like Cole. For all intents and purposes, Natalie was dead during the day. A fresh corpse, cold and unmoving.
Tracing the line of her jaw, Cole shuddered. Vampires were truly disturbing creatures, and yet he’d still fallen for two of them. Leaving Natalie, he went to the washroom and cleaned up. Peeling his filthy armor off and dousing himself in cold water. The shock of the chill kept him awake and moving long enough to put his gear away and find some undergarments. Unlike Natalie, he didn’t like sleeping naked.
Drying his annoyingly long hair, Cole headed for the bed. Pausing just before reaching it. Looking at his pack, he remembered another responsibility. Gently he fished Isabelle’s skull out of the bag. Holding up the alabaster bone, he set his forehead against hers. Sighing, Cole felt another twinge of Guilt. After learning Natalie and Isabelle had been conspiring together, he’d not been feeding Isabelle regularly. Fears about her mental state and effect on Natalie had made him negligent. Another failure to add to his list.
Moving back towards the bed, Cole lay down and let Isabelle’s fangs sink into him. Ignoring the twinge of pain, Cole let himself collapse into the bed. Looking at Natalie's still form and the skull suckling on his wrist, Cole almost laughed. Many men probably had fantasies of sharing a bed with two lovers. They just probably didn’t imagine it looked anything like his current predicament. As blood loss combined with his exhaustion, Cole shut his eyes and hoped for sleep. It didn’t refuse his invitation.
Dreamless sleep came without complaint but left with a jab of pain. Hissing in sudden discomfort, Cole opened his eyes. Finding Natalie sprawled over him, trying to wrestle Isabelle’s skull from his wrist. Groggy, thirsty, and feeling like his wrist was being ripped apart, Cole tried to say something. Only to be cut off by another jab of pain as Natalie yanked the skull free. With little compunction, Natalie tossed the skull onto the floor, sending it rolling along the wooden panels like some obscene ball.
Cursing quietly, Natalie let out an annoyed sigh and snapped at the skull. “You are welcome!”
Turning to face Cole, she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Bringing him to her chest. A confused Cole found his face filled with very warm, very soft flesh. Gently and reluctantly, he pulled himself free of her breasts. Blinking up at Natalie, Cole croaked. “What was that about?”
Tracing his face with one hand, Natalie looked at the skull on the floor. “She told me to dislodge her when I woke up. Apparently, she drained you to death like three times in your sleep but couldn’t force herself to stop.”
Licking her lips, Natalie looked at Cole's wrist. “Speaking of, do you mind?”
Noticing his wound was dripping blood, Cole shrugged. “Don’t take much; I’m pretty groggy.”
Nodding, Natalie slithered over to his wrist and set her lips on his cut wrist. The numbing kiss Isabelle’s skull lacked deadened the pain. As Cole became very aware of the beautiful naked woman lying atop him. His chest and arm were quashed to her breasts, and Natalie’s rear was displayed marvelously from his current position. Surprising himself, Cole let his other hand dance up to Natalie’s hip and squeeze the supple flesh.
Natalie made a pleased humming noise into his wrist and licked his wound shut. Taking the encouragement, Cole let his hands slip up her rear and to the small of her back. Enjoying the strong hands, Natalie moved so her hips straddled his own. Wiggling slightly, Natalie giggled at what she felt. “I see you didn’t lose too much blood.”
Blushing, Cole swallowed nervously. “Yeah… how are you feeling?”
Licking her lips and taking Cole’s injured arm, Natalie guided his hand to her mouth. Leaving a few kisses on his fingers in a profoundly distracting way. Natalie smiled. “Better now that you are back.” Taking his index finger into her mouth for a long moment, Natalie wiggled her eyebrows and then guided the same hand from her mouth to her breast. “So, is my Hero up for some fun?”
The lusty haze enrapturing Cole faded slightly at her words, and more of his higher thoughts returned. Including his meeting with the Council and Natalie’s fate. That cut clean through his arousal and he pulled his hands from Natalie, gesturing for her to get off him. With a slight pout, she complied.
Flopping onto the bed next to him, Natalie asked: “Are you afraid another binding ritual will interrupt us?”
Cole’s lips twitched in a smile despite himself. “No, and I’d love to make love, but we have bigger concerns.”
One of Natalie’s hands cupped her breast, and the other slithered over towards the disturbance Cole was making in the blankets. “I don’t know, Cole? These both seem like big issues.”
Gently taking her wandering hand into his own, Cole met her eyes. “This is serious. My meeting with the City Council went poorly.”
Losing her flirtatiousness, Natalie frowned. “Okay, how bad?”
So Cole told her how her testimony had been dismissed, and the City rejected her plea. Leaving Natalie’s fate in the Temple's hands. As he explained, Cole watched as Natalie’s expression darkened and darkened until he got to the part about Morri and the Temple. To Cole’s utter surprise, a wide fangy smile covered Natalie’s face. Letting out a small laugh, she grabbed Cole’s face and kissed him viciously.
Breaking the kiss, Natalie rolled onto her back and laughed louder. Confused, Cole said: “Why in the World’s name are you so enthusiastic? The Temple hasn’t been particularly nice to you, Love?”
Instead of answering, Natalie took Cole’s hand and brought it to her neck. Even more confused and wondering if Natalie enjoyed… rougher forms of fun, Cole was stunned to feel a lattice of cold power beneath his fingers. Pulling his hand back, he saw a spiraling tattoo of silver lines forming a maze and hourglass. Gasping, Cole whispered. “A Stigma.”
Tracing her mark with a lazy hand, Natalie smirked. “A gift from the Anchorite. I’m under the Temple's protection as long as I bear it. Glynn explained some of it this morning, and Isabelle filled me in on the rest.”
Pausing for a second, Natalie considered. “She couldn’t decipher what miracle was worked into it. That really seemed to annoy her.”
Trying to sort through this, Cole asked: “I’m still confused as to why you are so excited? Even if the Temple accepts you, the City isn’t.”
Rolling so she was pressed up against Cole, Natalie chuckled. “See, you’d think that, but from what you're describing, the City gave up any control over me. Saying I was the Temple's responsibility. Morri even got them to put it in writing. That means as long as the Temple says I’m in the clear, I am.”
Frowning, Cole tried to parse her logic. “I’m not certain that’s how it works, Nat?”
Natalie got up off the bed and went over to a table near the Apartment’s window. Cole couldn’t help but find his eyes drawn to her rear as she walked. Shaking the lust from his head, he asked: “What are you doing?”
Grabbing a book from the table, Natalie came back to the bed. Touching a glowstone as she did, brightening it enough for Cole to see properly. Sitting next to Cole, Natalie flipped open the book and riffled through its pages. With a triumphant chirp, she found what she’d been looking for.
“Aha! ‘The Temple Song Agreement and its effects on the Charter of Vindabon.” Pointing at the text, Natalie quoted. “A key tenant of the Agreement was the placement of Religious Authority below Mundane Authority in judicial matters. As a direct result, the City of Vindabon and its Temples came to the accord that the City Court (or Council) had priority on deciding the fate of Criminals and similar. But if the City forfeits this right in a particular case, it falls to the Temples, who have final say. Once the forfeiture of Judgement has happened, it cannot be revoked without the combined agreement of the Elector-Prince and Twelve Hierophants of the City!”
Utterly bewildered, Cole asked: “How in the Fixed Stars did you know about that?”
Smiling, Natalie shut the book. “Someone left me alone with a grumpy Priestess with only a history text, a bad romance novel, and a woodworking guide as entertainment. So I did some reading and learned that little tidbit. It stuck with me since I thought it might prove useful. And hey! It did! I’m safe with the Temple and hopefully free to explore the city!”
Suddenly, Cole remembered the near ridiculous amount of knowledge Natalie had gathered while tending tables at her Father’s inn. He’d been impressed then but now was truly floored. Natalie clearly had a gift for memorization or simply retaining information. Reaching out, he grabbed either side of Natalie’s head and brought her forehead to his. Infected with her glee, Cole smiled. “That is perhaps one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. You are brilliant, Natalie!”
A coy grin coming over her, Natalie said, “Keep singing my praises, Cole. It will get you everywhere with me.”
With one mighty weight off his shoulders, Cole gripped Natalie and pulled her beneath him. An excited giggle escaped her lips, and Natalie pressed her hands to Cole’s chest. Enjoying the taught strength, she found there. Red eyes met blue, and Cole rumbled. “So… shall we?”
Pulling his face in for a kiss, Natalie murmured, “We shall.”