The Golden Sword by Fiona Patton

Author:Fiona Patton [Patton, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Astra Publishing House
Published: 2001-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

8. Martin Wrey

The Branbridge Flame Temple

Early Autumn, Mean Fhomhair 479 DR

THE Branbridge Temple of the Flame emitted the most powerful and awe-inspiring presence seven-year-old Martin had ever Felt. Even a mile away he could sense it throbbing in his head like a giant drum. It was all he could do to keep from running blindly forward, but instead, he made himself sit down on the opposite bank of the River Mist and study the grounds carefully.

Since fleeing from Halmouth Port he’d been traveling for over two weeks, heading in the general direction of the capital—ostensibly obeying Pri Garius’ wishes because he couldn’t think of a better way to make up for the man’s death. Stealing food when he could, using the Priest’s dwindling supply of copper helms when he could not, he’d walked until he’d grown tired, then slept until he was rested in dovecotes, sheering sheds, or under bridges; whatever offered enough shelter. He hadn’t bothered to consider what might happen after he arrived, but now, staring at the Temple’s bright copper turrets, he realized that he had no idea what he should do next. He couldn’t just walk in and demand to be let in. Could he?

Staring into the depths of Pri Garius’ purse, he frowned. He knew how the world worked. If you weren’t born into a trade, you paid a master to take you on and teach you. If you couldn’t afford a trade, then you hired out as a servant. The only other option was thievery. He’d never even considered the Priesthood of either faith, but he’d assumed it was the same as tinsmith or barrelwright. If you didn’t have the money, you didn’t get in.

• • •

“So what are you gonna to do?” he asked himself bluntly. “Stay here and starve?”

“Maybe.”

“You scared?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a Seer. You belong there. Pri Garius said so.”

“Pri Garius is dead. You killed him. If you go in there, they’ll find out and they’ll . . .”

“They’ll want?”

“I dunno, kill you back or something. Maybe even worse.”

“There’s nothing worse than being killed, stupid.”

“Says you. Maybe they’ll know something worse.”

• • •

Propping his chin up against his palm, Martin abandoned the argument. He couldn’t just walk in there for a lot of reasons. But Pri Garius had said he belonged there, so there had to be some way. His eyes narrowed. The old soak had also said he was his Patron. Martin snorted. If he’d been a real Patron he’d have lived long enough to come with him or at least send him to someone else—not left him to figure it out all by himself. Absently wiping his nose with the red snot rag, he opened the Priest’s leather bag, hoping for some inspiration from the bits of Triarctic junk inside.

His fingers tingled against the objects of his dedication, and he quickly pulled his hand out again. Every night since the Priest’s death his dreams had been a battleground between Essus and the—whatever Pri Garius had called that two-headed snake-thing. The closer

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.