The orchard was outside the walls of the Godskeep. Dienna made her way through the inner bailey, the keep a blur of constant motion. Priests, acolytes, and servants ran in all directions—going to lessens, heading to worship, carrying supplies. Carpenters hired out of the Port Cities were erecting a large pavilion in the northwest corner of the bailey that would serve as a feasting hall during the Midsummer Festival. As they worked, their children played on the expansive lawn, making enough noise to almost drown out the mournful voices of the Godskeep choir, practicing their songs of worship and praise in the central Hall of Ceremony.
Dienna left the Godskeep through the postern door, producing one of the few keys that would open it. While the Golden Village was reached by going south from the mouth of the Godskeep, the orchard was in the northern half of the valley. It was accessible by either the wide, gently sloping path of grass used by merchants and farmers with their oxcarts, or by a steep stair cut of rock that descended rapidly down the Holy Hill's backside. The steps were cracked here and there, so Dienna proceeded down with caution, but the view was always impeccable. The Valley stretched out before her, a vast expanse of yellow and green. The orchard was immediately ahead, rows upon rows of trees and bushes and fields upon fields of wheat and barley, giving out to rolling hills beyond. Looming over all were the Peaks of Enalgath, teal against the clear, blue sky.
Dienna’s mother had always adored the orchard. When not helping her husband run the Godskeep, she could often be found walking through its orderly lanes, or, as was the case today, taking her tea in its shade. Dienna followed the little winding path down the rest of the slope and in to the orchard itself. Workers in thin cotton tunics and gowns were tending the apple and pear trees at the orchard’s mouth. Dienna caught a bit of a bawdy verse as she was walking, but she was unfamiliar with that particular working man's song. She hoped they knew the ceremonial songs just as well as their little barroom ditties, and said a quick prayer for the guidance of their souls.
About half a mile into the orchard, in the middle of the lane between two rows of apple trees, sat Dienna’s mother, Lady Grenna. She sat at a small, spindly table with an ornate lace cloth that was piled high with tiny cakes, wedges of cheese, grapes, cucumbers, and cold cuts of meat. Her mother’s handmaidens stood some ten feet behind her, silent, their arms clasped behind their backs, all uniform in soft mauve gowns with white veils over their hair. For her part, the Lady Grenna was wearing a breezy taupe gown of linen with embroidered flowers on the bodice. A renowned beauty, Lady Grenna shared Dienna’s large eyes, if not their color, and, despite her age, had a softer face compared to her daughter’s. She smiled at Dienna’s approach.
“Good afternoon, Dienna,” she said, her sing-song voice carrying. “How nice of you to join me. I know you must be busy.”
Dienna smiled tightly, “I am, Mother. There is no denying it. I have much I need to do before Midsummer.”
“All work and no play, my dear,” her mother returned lightly. “Do sit down, darling, and eat as much as you like.”
Dienna did as she was bidden. She piled her plate high as Lady Grenna gracefully poured her a cup of Ruithan tea. The two ate in silence, and, for Dienna at least, it was an uneasy silence. Her mother was the Lady of the Godskeep, and thus oversaw everything that occurred within its walls. True, she left the minute details of ceremonies and services to the priests, but aside from these small concessions, Lady Grenna arranged all. Tea parties such as this were her way of breaking the ice on some subject or other that needed arranging, and Dienna counted down the minutes in her head before she thought her mother likely to do just that.
“Have you spoken with Sonder lately?” Lady Grenna asked, nonchalant. That hadn't taken long.
“I saw him briefly yesterday,” Dienna said with a half scowl. “Why?”
Her mother cleared her throat, “He has refused to speak with me ever since I tried to…introduce him to the Pendleton girl last month.”
“Lord Ulrich’s daughter? The pretty one?” Dienna asked in surprise. In truth, she was more than pretty and quite an intelligent, wealthy maiden at that. Mariah Pendleton was one of the most sought-after young ladies in the Golden Valley, and she had even had a few suitors from the Port Cities. “He turned down Mariah Pendleton?”
“Yes, he turned down Mariah Pendleton,” she returned acidly “just as he turned down your father’s position.”
“I will never understand him,” Dienna said. Secretly grateful though she was that her brother had refused to succeed their father as Keeper, his refusal had caused quite a scandal throughout Dorneldia. Groomed since birth for the role, her brother had been honed and trained and educated in the ways of the Keeper. Truth be told though, Sonder had never shown much enthusiasm for his vocation. He did as he was told, studied what they asked him to study, but his heart, it seemed, had not been in it. Dienna herself had noticed this, and so could, she thought, their father. Yet whenever Dienna had raised any concern with him about Sonder, he would only smile gently and say, “He is not a weed; he still has much time to grow.”
And grow he did, from a reluctant, taciturn teenager to a young man who could no longer keep silent. One night, Sonder had gone to the Keeper and had asked that Lord Mayrim name Dienna as his successor instead. He would not be a priest, and he would not be the Keeper of the Gods.
“He does not want to be Keeper and he does not want to wed,” Dienna said, shaking her head. “What on earth does he want?”
Lady Grenna harrumphed, “And now he wastes all of his time training with the Holy Guard.”
Dienna nodded. The Holy Guard was the force of soldiers and guardsmen that protected the Godskeep from its enemies, though it hadn't had any enemies in centuries.
“I have a few connections among the Guard,” Lady Grenna continued. “They tell me that Sonder has spoken of one day selling his sword and traveling west to the Port Cities, there to join the Green Knights. They also tell me,” and here her mother's look was of disdain, “that he has been seen frequenting the taverns on the other side of the Village. Gambling, flirting,” She paused and sipped her tea gravely, as if this were all too much. “This is not the life I wanted for my son.”
“Mother—”
Lady Grenna waved her hand dismissively, “It's alright, Dienna, but I will not deny that I have been extremely disappointed in him. We gave him every tool and every opportunity to succeed, and he goes and shirks his gods-given responsibilities onto his sister.”
“Perhaps it was for the best,” Dienna replied, defensive. “I believe myself more than capable of stepping in for Sonder.”
“Yes,” Lady Grenna agreed. “I know you are, my dear. I do not worry about your success. I would just hate to see Sonder fall into a life of sin and debauchery, to besmirch our good name!”
Dienna took her mother's hand in her own, “I don't want that either, Mother. And whatever rumors you may have heard, I don't think Sonder has fallen as low as you think.”
Lady Grenna smiled warily, “I hope you're right. Will you,” she hesitated, and Dienna anticipated her next words with dread, “will you speak to him for me? Tell him that I'm sorry about Mariah Pendleton, and that I wish he would move back in with us.”
Dienna checked a terse retort and instead replied, “I'll tell him, Mother.”
“And will you tell him to stop visiting the taverns?”
“Of course.”
“There's a good girl,” Lady Grenna smiled and pulled her hand free of her daughter's. She sat back in her chair, apparently reveling in the point of the tea party finally being addressed to her satisfaction. “And tell him that I wish he would join me for tea some time so I can set him up with someone else.”
“Mother.”
“Fine,” Lady Grenna replied, “You don't need to mention that part.”
Dienna smiled in spite of herself. She couldn't blame her mother's desire to intercede in Sonder's rapidly declining lifestyle, even if Dienna was far too busy herself to always play the middle part in their constant feuding. Still, she felt obligated both to her mother and to the Way to try to set things straight with her brother, though she wasn't sure how much good conveying their mother's wishes to him would do.
Silence fell between mother and daughter once more, this time an easy, companionable silence. Dienna felt compelled to tell her about the strange experience she had had while praying last night. Part of her longed to give in to the almost palpable maternal aura surrounding her mother and unburden her soul, and the other part, the part that was certain her experience was an omen of ill tidings, not of good, wanted to keep her fears to herself forever. In the end, the course of their conversation took them to more pleasant topics, and Dienna found herself returning to the Godskeep with her mother, her handmaidens, and a stomach achingly full of sweets, at an hour much later than expected.
After tea, Dienna attended a special service for the initiation of a new group of acolytes. She spent the afternoon standing with Lady Amelie, the Prominent of Lantos, as the acolytes said vows of study and worship before the altars of the Hall of Ceremony. The two priests had exchanged pleasantries before the service, but the heat was too stifling in the Hall for either woman to indulge in conversation for too long. Her Prominence had donned more ornate robes than she had worn that morning for the occasion, heavy lavender brocade with silver embroidery. Dienna did not envy her; she still wore her cooler robes of linen.
The induction lasted until sundown, and Dienna’s stomach was growling at her in fury for being given nothing but sweets for so long. As soon as the service was over, Dienna rushed to her parents’ chamber with the hope that they had yet to eat supper.
The Keeper’s suite was a sprawling six rooms occupying nearly half a floor of the East Wing. With its high ceilings, lavish furnishing, and exquisite stained glass windows, the Keeper’s suite was certainly the most luxurious in the Godskeep, and Dienna was more than happy to call it home.
She was out of breath by the time she reached the door to the suite.
“Father? Mother? Is anyone there?” she called out as she entered the room.
“They are not here.”
Dienna jumped in alarm. There, standing in the middle of her father’s antechamber, was a woman in ominous black robes. Tattered and torn things they were, as if tarnished with travel. They may have been grand robes once, long ago, but no more. The same could be said of the woman wearing them. She was shorter than Dienna by almost a head, slighter of build and with a hungry, lean face and fierce dark eyes. She wore her thick black hair high on her head, and stood straight, her strong chin upturned.
“Who are you?” Dienna demanded. “What are you doing in my father’s chambers?”
“The Keeper of the Gods and I had a meeting,” the woman replied calmly. “He seems to have forgotten.”
“A meeting? ” Dienna replied, eyes narrowed. “Here?” Her father never conducted meetings from his personal suite. If she makes any strange movements, Dienna thought, I'll call for the guards.
The woman was unperturbed, “I have his summons.” She produced a small roll of parchment from her robes and held it out to her.
Dienna eyed it suspiciously before taking and unfurling the little scroll:
I, Lord Mayrim Darpentus, Keeper of the Gods and Lord of the Godskeep of the Realm of Dorneldia, hereby summon—
“Lady Artima?” Dienna said aloud, “of the Plains?”
The lady nodded coolly, never taking her eyes off of her.
“What business could my father have with you, sorceress?” Dienna spat the last word. Wizards and their kind did not belong to the Way, and Dienna had little use for them, and she was sure that her father felt the same. “Why have you come here?”
“That is not your concern, my dear,” said Lord Mayrim himself.
Dienna turned to find him standing in the doorway. Though tall and imposing as always, he looked exhausted. He strode past his daughter.
“Good lady,” he started. “Do accept my apologies. I did remember our appointment, but I was detained elsewhere. I know you have come a long way to treat with me. Please be assured that we will discuss your concerns another day. Until then, you are welcome to stay in the Godskeep.”
Lady Artima’s face remained cold, but her voice held passion, “I see the game you play Most Holy One. But that is fine. I shall wait. And we shall speak another day.”
She gave the slightest of bows to Lord Mayrim and walked with long strides past him and out the door, leaving a stunned Dienna in her wake.
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