Pillar

Chapter Nineteen

Vivian laid in bed for what was a total of three days, two un conscious as her body was repaired by the earth spirits and one where she just relaxed. During that time, another twelve people were attacked, with five deaths. The vessels were becoming bolder, and moving in groups, appearing in Districts at night with little to no warning and dragging people away. As soon as the Royal Guard would respond, the smarter ones would retreat leaving a handful of Addled to be handled. Where they disappeared to, the reports wouldn’t say. Captain Remus Tyrik had a copy of every report written up for her and sent to her bedside, where she poured over them while consulting her journal. She’d been reading through how the owner of Twist and Tyrik, the tailor shop, had stumbled out of the Sound of War only to be found a few hours later shambling about with three other Addled.

Ezra had stopped by with some Crooning Orchids, which she quickly pumped energy into to have someone to talk to after he left. He’d said that Jack and the others were worried about her, and that they knew something was up by the way the Royal Guard were patrolling now. When pressed, she begged off and told him that she’d been made a contractor for the Guard to help ferret out the issue. He didn’t push too hard, and the end just sat with her and made idle conversation for an hour.

“Your friends from the military, they came by to talk about getting clan tattoos from Jack,” Ezra had said, observing Vivian carefully. “They said that their wedding would be soon.”

“How soon?” Vivian asked.

Ezra had just shrugged. “Soon, as Jack thinks the woman is pregnant. The Tyrik may have calmed down in the past century, they still have warrior roots. They all revere a woman-with-child, and would be shocked at a non-married woman bearing a child. They’re to be inducted into the Clan tonight, but they’re holding off the marriage ceremony until you’re ready to be released.”

“I don’t know if I want to attend the ceremony,” Vivian had muttered, “I don’t think I could sit through the whole thing and not cry.”

“I don’t think you’re invited as a guest, as they need someone connected to the spirits to officiate,” Ezra had said, his voice seemingly tense as he spoke.

It’d taken Vivian a few seconds to figure out what he meant. “You mean they need me to bind them? Oh Emir, I can’t do that!”

“They may need you to do it,” Ezra had gently said. “They want to be members of the Clan, and if they want to stay there they need their child to be recognized as legitimate. If you’re their friends, then you should look past your… desire for Tobias and do as they ask. Charge the Clan a fee that’s fair to show you support the union and their induction into Tyrik.”

Vivian had asked Ezra to leave then, claiming she wasn’t feeling well. He’d seemed reluctant to leave, but complied.

Now, after being roused at dawn by one of the Royal Guard’s medics, Vivian was dressed in her linen wraps, her upper chest and biceps covered while a flowing green skirt dripped down her legs to her boots. Her tattoo was bare for all to see, which due to her paler-than-normal demeanor was an easy endeavor.

“Trapped underground for three days, spirits know what mischief I’ve missed!” She gushed to Gaul, who was carrying her box of goods from Bed Row, her Crooning Orchids sitting in a small planter atop the mass of clothing and bottles of goods.

Gaul had his injured arm in a more conventional cast, made from lacquered linen and braced with wooden slates, though he could use the arm to cart around her meager supplies, at least until she found a place to stay. She’d been informed by Captain Tyrik that Bed Rom had filled up with farmers, ranchers, and merchants coming in for the harvest festival. Bo had said that so long as she didn’t mind staying in the shop, she could spend the next few nights there while he and his friends went hunting for game to restock in time for the Flaming Phoenix Festival taking place this coming weekend. That gave her two days to find a more permanent residence before they returned on Friday.

Gaul had offered his room at home, saying he could sleep on the couch. “No wife to speak of and the children are grown up and gone, so I have a decent sized home with plenty of space to spare.”  

Vivian had accepted, allowing a few recruits and Gaul to take her clothing and goods to his home in the Housing District, his address scribbled with a snub-nosed quill onto her palm. Smirking, she’d slowly walked from the sub-level basement that served as the hospital and up the hewn stairs to the barracks.

Loud was the only word she could use to describe the housing area for the Holy King’s military and Royal Guard. Soldiers, dressed down to their padded leathers and under-armor, were sitting around drinking bottles of spiced ale, the odor roiling from the main room where at least thirty mean and women were gathered. Vivian peered in and smiled at what she saw: two soldiers, both young Tyrik men, were wrestling on a padded mat. An older soldier, a braided white beard and several burn scars over his left arm, stood shirtless to the side barking out commands, that the wrestlers attempted to perform, much to the crowd’s amusement. Amidst the jeering faces, Vivian spotted Tobias, his face flushed red from what must have been one too many drinks.

Before she could slink away, she felt a hand clamp down on her damaged wrist, the now crystalline casing slick and resilient enough to offer support to her mending bones. The grip was still startling, and she swung around, staff aimed to strike at her attacker’s head.

Thunk!

Lillian smiled, a brand-new Tyrik tattoo glistening over her left eye with puffy blotches. She’d blocked with her bracer, her other hand dropping low to her short sword on her hip. She was dressed in the same padded leathers that the rest of the relaxing soldiers lounged in, though hers were sweaty from a recent work-out.

Looking down at herself, she smirked. “Just got done wrestling about half an hour ago,” she offered in explanation. “Leary, the old bastard with a beard directing the show, is a master of Clan Tyrik bare-handed combat. Seeing as we’ve been told we have some issues with people who can disarm us, he’s been brought in to give us a refresher unarmed combat.”

Vivian wondered how an unarmed soldier would be able to handle an Addled… shivering, she merely nodded and lowered her staff. “Sorry, didn’t mean take a swing.”

“Yes, you did!” Lilian laughed, punching Vivian in the right bicep softly. “And good on you! Girl needs to know how to protect herself!”

“I can defend myself quite easily without clubbing someone with my staff,” Vivian grumbled, turning at Lillian’s gaze as Tobias hopped down from one of the barrels, turning to snap off a comeback at his friends, revealing his left eye to be covered by the vertical tattoo as well. “I see you two were accepted.”

 “Yeah, we passed the tests. Once we leave the military, Tobias is going to join the Royal Guard while I join one of the other women in running a shop. Hasn’t been decided yet.” Lillian said, looking on at her fiancé with a wistful smile. Turning to look at Vivian, she smiled. “So, what’s it going to cost?”

“Cost?” Vivian asked, confused.

“Yeah, to officiate. I know that oaf Ezra told on us, but we need you to do it, and soon. I’m… we’re in a situation that if we don’t get married soon we’ll get in trouble with the Clan. We just joined, we can’t afford trouble. So, what’s it going to cost?”

Vivian fell silent for a moment as she watched Tobias walk into the ring, his opponent a man roughly the same size and build, though he didn’t wear any padded leather over his chest, proudly baring his chest for all to see. Leary seemed to appraise the two of them and pulled a curved dagger from his hip, tossing it to the shirtless man, who caught it with ease.

“Oh no!” Vivian said.

Lillian waved off her concern. “Leary won’t let it get out of hand. I’ve tasted that blade a few times, and it’s dull. Largely an iron baton at this point. So, your price?”

“When do you want the wedding?” Vivian asked. “And what would I need to do?”

“Invoke the spirits, prove you represent them, and then dress in some fancier clothing in front of a crowd and stay for the party,” Lillian said. “I was told you just need to approve our union, as the Clan reveres the spirits and won’t allow a union between man and woman unless the spirits bless it.”

“So, you need my permission?” Vivian asked.

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Lillian nodded. “So, your price.”

Vivian thought back to one of the reports, of the dead Tyrik tailor, their shop built at the entrance of the city in the Market District. The man had a three-story building, with two stories dedicated to his business and the top floor dedicated to his home. She knew that with his death, someone would need to take over the shop.

“So, joining the Clan, do you have someone who represents you?” Vivian asked, smiling at Lillian.

Lillian shivered. “An old merchant by the name of Rung, a pence-pincher if ever there was one. Why?”

“If you want me to officiate, then I want the dead tailors shop. I’ll pay fifty silver for it and offer a discount to all of Clan Tyrik for the clothing and magical services I provide. I want whatever was left inside when the tailor died as well, as I know it hasn’t been emptied out yet.” Vivian demanded.

“I… I don’t know if I can get Rung to agree to that deal!” Lillian cried. “Please, there has to be something else you want! Money? We can pay you!”

“I stated my terms, and even pledged some allegiance to your new family as well,” Vivian said, “Master Bleak will be refusing the smaller orders from now on and leaving them to me. My Tentrek will continue from here, and I’ll return often to do work here so that I can be of service to the Clan.”

“There’s nothing else I can offer in exchange?” Lillian asked, a light growl under her breath.

Vivian turned when the men all cried out, smirking when she saw Tobias standing with the other soldier’s arm in a lock between his legs, the dagger twisted out of his grip. Leary was barking orders, and the crowd was growing wilder as Tobias leaned back, bending the arm at an awkward angle. The soldier was slapping the ground, grunting in pain, yet refusing to give up. Vivian looked back at Lillian, who was staring at Tobias with a ghost of a smile on her face.

Beneath the call of the crowd, she whispered just loud enough for Lillian to hear. “You may be my friend Lils, but I need a home and business to run. I have a temporary gig for now, and need a place to return to during my travels. Get me that, and Tobias and your child’s future will be secure.”

Lillian looked over with calculating eyes. A small smile broke through her ivory mask. “Alright Smirking Sage. You win. I’ll talk to Rung and get it set up myself after my shift.”

“Good. I want to be able to move in by days’ end,” Vivian said, turning to leave the barracks. “I’ll be at the Sound of War for the rest of the day. Bring me what needs to be done and I’ll make sure you are right in the eyes of the spirits for your Clan.”