Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead) (27 page)

BOOK: Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead)
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One Tuesday, on the eve of the Temple festival of Samhain, Fiona popped her head round the door of our classroom as we were finishing for the day.

“Oh! Hello everyone!”

Myr Edward smiled and gestured for her to come in. Her hair was dyed a bright, fiery red. “Beetle shells,” she had explained to me the previous weekend when I had seen her at the Thistle. “Lovely colour, don’t you think?” She was dressed in her usual Human-style gown, with its full skirts and tightly nipped-in waist.

“Hmph,” I heard Sallagh mutter to Mantilly behind me. “I’ve never seen a Nea’thi wearing a proper dress,” and she chuckled derisively.

Quick as a flash, Fiona smiled at her winningly. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen a Bloodkin wearing one to class either, but I admire your perseverance. Dresses are marvellous though, aren’t they dear? I love how they make me feel so girlish, so silly!” and she gave a little wiggle of her hips. Sallagh blushed furiously as the rest of us laughed.

“It’s nice to see so many familiar faces here.” Fiona gave me a tiny wink. “From Thursday I will be coming in to teach you some of what I know about moss. Of course tomorrow is the festival, so you have the day off, and please feel free to enjoy yourselves. On Thursday we will be sampling moss. We’ll begin with the White of course, but try not to be too hungover, you will not be smoking anything until you have satisfied me that you have grasped what I will be teaching you in the morning.”

The next day dawned bright and clear, but the breeze from the lake held a hint of autumnal chill. Dew still glistened on the
grass as the whole group of us from the Hall – Journeymen and Myn Eve included – hurried to the Temple for an early service.

Festival services were much longer than the usual ones held on Sundays, and the Temple was packed with people, Humans and Nea’thi alike. Samhain was the last of the big festivals before Yule, at the very end of the year. It is essentially a celebration of autumn, of the slow descent of the year into winter, and a time for remembrance. Inside the Temple, a great, cavernous stone edifice, the rows of pews were festooned with ribbons in the colours of the season, yellow, orange and red, tied about chrysanthemums and marigolds. The entire length of the front altar underneath the statue of Queen Lilbecz was laden with offerings of seasonal produce: apples, pomegranates, pumpkins and squashes, donated by the people of Lille for the Priests and Priestesses to cook and serve to the poor of the city. Instead of the simple ritual of gratitude, there were two main parts to the Samhain service. After welcoming us, the High Priestess, Hanniash, conducted something of a meditation, set to slow, almost mournful music piped from the organ, on loved ones who had passed away. She reminded us to honour their memories, to sit with feelings of pain and loss. We had been given pieces of paper and pencils at the door, as was usual, but now she bade us try and scribe these feelings. It was kind of a weird festival, really. No one I knew had died recently, so I was feeling rather untouched by the whole thing, though weeping erupted sporadically from around the congregation.

My pencil and paper still sat untouched when the music ended and Hanniash spoke the traditional words of Samhain, marking the passing of the sun, like the passing of people from life into death. Then it was time for the second part of the service, and the organist began playing again, a stirring and almost violent piece. Now we were to write on the other side of the piece of paper any aspects of our lives that we wished to be free of: anger, bad habits, misplaced feelings, disease. Again I struggled with the words. Frankly, on the whole I was pretty content. I guess that thoughts of Sallagh still bugged me. The way she had treated me still bugged me, and perversely I still wanted her, and this annoyed me. I thought of Charlie too, troubled by his relationship, or lack thereof, with Anna, and although it wasn’t really my
place, I still wished we could, I don’t know, let it go. So I wrote the names of the two women on my piece of paper and quickly folded it.

When the second piece of music ended the High Priestess gave her blessing, ending with the traditional “So mote it be,” and the congregation stood as one to file forward slowly to the brazier waiting at the front of the Temple. After I dropped my piece of paper into the flames I turned to walk back down the aisle then noticed for the first time the large portrait hanging above the great double doors leading outside. Apparently Telgeth had been right, Queen Thaelique was a babe. She had long blonde hair, so fair as to be almost white, a straight, regal nose, and a strong, wide jaw. Although the portrait was only a copy of the Ashlu original, painted before the last elections, her slate-blue eyes seemed to sparkle with some fierce intelligence, the cast of her curved lips, resolute. I don’t know what the other Candidates looked like, but I would
definitely
have voted for her.

I stared at the portrait, walking slowly through the Temple. Too slowly, because Charlie caught up to me as I got close to the door. Outside I could see the High Priestess greeting and thanking the congregational as they left. She was a tall woman, completely bald, of course, and was swathed in the bright saffron robes edged in red of her office. He face was only lightly touched with lines, and she was still rather handsome, despite being, by my guess, somewhere in her late forties.

“Hanniash was Anna’s first Bloodkin, did you know?” Charlie murmured in my ear as we waited in the crowd to leave. I think I had heard mention of it once, actually, but it was still a bit surprising. It was hard to imagine the venerable Priestess as ever having been an eighteen-year-old girl, and even harder to imagine that Anna had been the same age as Charlie was now at the time.

At the front of the line, Hanniash grasped my hands.

“Thank you for coming, Bloodkin. Queen Lilbecz would have appreciated your remembrance. Good luck with your studies. Peace be with you.”

I was puzzled by her use of the term Bloodkin, though as she turned to Charlie I realised how obvious it was.

“Ah, Charlie, yes? Thank you for coming.”

“Thank
you
, Myn Hanniash. That was a beautiful service.”

The High Priestess smiled at him, then grew serious. “How fares Anna these days? I fear I have not seen her much since…”

“She’s fine,” Charlie told her, then took a deep breath. “She might appreciate your guidance though, High Priestess.”

Hanniash laughed. “Me giving Anna guidance? I never thought I would see the day when student becomes mentor.” But she nodded at him. “Thank you, I will see what I can do. Peace be with you, boy.”

 

We gathered the others and walked through the streets until we came to the market square in the Merchants’ Quarter in the Human area of the city. Stalls had been set up everywhere, selling every kind of goods one could imagine. While the festival was a holiday for most, travelling merchants from around the countryside took the opportunity of the festive occasion to hawk their wares to the revellers. It was still only late morning, but booths were set up to sell wines and ales to passersby. Sammoch and Donnick quickly found the stall that sold their favourite Rhyeholm ale, and grabbed big paper cups of it for everyone.

Sallagh and Mantilly soon wandered off with their Mentors in tow, going to look at clothes or jewellery or some other girly stuff. Lolitha watched them go a little wistfully. She had been well and truly accepted as one of the boys, ever since that first afternoon at the Academy when she had come to the Thistle with us after class. She and Sallagh had reached an uneasy truce, but I suspected that perhaps Sallagh envied the easy, joking relationship Lolitha had with the rest of us. But even though she was gay, it didn’t mean that she was completely oblivious to feminine interests in fashion, and I’m afraid that we, her guy mates, weren’t all that helpful when it came to clothes shopping.

We watched as the square began to crawl with people. Jugglers and fire-breathers and buskers with all sorts of weird and wonderful talents set their hats down at intersections in the market and we wandered around, flipping coins at any that were particularly good. When we passed the stall of a cloth-merchants’
collective from the Jaelshead district, Lolitha paused, and in the interest of being a good friend I stayed with her while the others moved on. Charlie elected to help me and Telgeth, although complaining about “dumb girl stuff” found a wine stall with seats opposite and put his feet up to wait. Lolitha hesitantly reached for a delicate seafoam-green alpaca weave.

“I think maybe I should get a dress,” she told me quietly.

“Why? What’s wrong with robes?”

She gave me a look that spoke volumes about me being an idiot boy and not understanding, and she shrugged.

“The other girls have some, for like, going out and stuff.”

“But you’re not like the other girls!”

“No shit.” She sounded cross and I instantly regretted what I had said. Luckily Jimmy had wandered back to find us, and he came over to check out the fabric, ignoring my faux pas.

“Well, if it’s a dress you want, it’s a dress you shall have. Ϛaioћ, come have a look at this, will you?”

The two Mentors studied the fabric, and I could tell from their little frowns that they were inspecting it with Hầұeӣ.

“Oh yes, this is nice. Nea’thi-weave, I presume?” Charlie asked the woman running the stall, who nodded.

“My daughter is Nea’thi-Blood. She does all of the weaving.”

Jimmy smiled at her. “How much will this young lady need for a dress?”

The woman measured out and cut a length of the cloth which she folded and wrapped and handed to Jimmy.

“With a good tailor there should be plenty there for the lass, with enough left over for a little jacket too.”

Jimmy thanked her and handed over some coins. It was much cheaper buying direct from the market than the cloth for sale at Myn Tardiallah’s. He handed the bundle to Lolitha.

“There you go. We’ll get you measured up in the weekend, yes?”

Telgeth got to his feet with an exaggerated moan and joined us as we moved down the rows of stalls. We rounded a corner and he let out a cry of excitement, then rushed over to a blacksmith’s stall.

“Tamoth! What are you doing here? Dad let you out of his sight?”

The man behind the stall looked to be in his mid-twenties and had Telgeth’s same orange hair, but was much broader in the shoulders and had big, meaty, smith’s hands.

“Everyone, this is my oldest brother Tamoth. Tamoth, this is Lolitha and Jimmy and Jaseth and Charlie!” Telgeth was grinning madly as he introduced us. “Dad really let you bring a wagon all the way to Lille? How long are you here for?”

Tamoth smiled patiently at Telgeth’s rapid-fire questions. “He sure did. He had to stay at home, he’s busy with a commission for the Lord—” He stopped abruptly and looked at me. “
Lord
Jaseth?” I blushed and nodded. Even though this happened to me pretty much every time I met someone, I still felt awkward as hell.

“Gosh, you’re keeping good company these days ‘Geth! How goes the Academy? I was going to come find you there later on, if I didn’t bump into you today.”

“Oh, it’s brilliant. We’re learning about physics and chemistry and moss and— Ooh, this is nice. One of Dad’s?” He held up an ornate belt-buckle in silver and copper filigree.

Tamoth smiled proudly. “Nope, that’s one of mine. You should be able to tell by now, you silly twit!”

“Lolitha needs a new belt, any family discounts going?” Jimmy grinned at Telgeth’s brother.

“Don’t be a dick, Jimmy. Of course there is. Isn’t there, Tamoth?”

“Aye, any friend of my little brother is a friend of mine.” He smiled kindly at Lolitha, who was studying the buckle, admiration clear on her face. “Myn Tallathia, you know, the tanner’s wife? We brought the wagon up together. Her stall’s a few along and she’s got some really nice leather belts there.” Tamoth indicated which way we would find her.

“So how long are you in town for? Where are you staying?” Telgeth asked as Tamoth counted coins and wrapped the buckle for Lolitha.

“We’re having to head back first thing in the morning, I’m afraid, try to beat the weather back home. But we’re staying at the Silver Squirrel, do you know it?”

Charlie and Jimmy did, so we agreed to meet up with him later, when the market had finished.

Down at Myn Tallathia’s stall Lolitha picked out a blue leather belt that Jimmy and Charlie inspected and approved of, and that was added to the growing pile in her shopping bag.

As the sun passed its zenith we were getting hot and tired. And hungry. We found a booth that sold freshly baked pies, both meat and fruit, and Charlie bought us all one of each and we sat around a little table and ate, watching a contortionist put on a show, bending in ways I thought would have been impossible for a Human being. When we were all replete and dusted with pastry crumbs we continued wandering round the market. Charlie bought a couple of novels at a second-hand booksellers and Telgeth bought a rather ugly green and brown striped scarf from a pretty girl who batted her eyelashes at him.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with a scarf,” he told us as we walked away. “But did you see the way she looked at me? Totally worth it!”

 

We found ourselves wandering back in the direction of the Quarter and decided to call it a day. I definitely needed a bath after the dust of the crowded marketplace.

When I was clean and dry and dressed in my good new robe I went out into the hallway to see what everyone was up to and was almost bowled over by Lolitha running past me. I caught a glimpse of her blotchy and tear-streaked face before she barrelled into her room and slammed the door. Seconds later Jimmy rushed down the stairs after her.

“’Litha darling, I’m sure she didn’t mean—”

“Bugger
off
, Jimmy!” she screamed from behind her closed door. I looked at him to see what the matter was and he shrugged and mouthed “Sallagh” at me.

We could hear steps on the stairs and Sallagh’s voice complaining. “I didn’t say anything, Emma. I don’t know why—” She stopped when she saw Jimmy and me standing there.

BOOK: Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead)
8.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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