Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards Ch. 11 Pt. 1
Notes: Let's move things right along, shall we? Gossip=plot in my world.
Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards Ch. 11 Pt. 1
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Chapter Eleven, Part One
Photo by Kelly SikkemaThe Thread
Hiram had worried that his reputation in Lollop would beirretrievable after what happened in the Temple of Melemor. Making the headpriest cry and sending the rest of town into a tizzy over a little oldmemory—the ideal way to ingratiate himself to his new home. He was sure he’dhave Uriel the Pustulant banging on his door in no time, insisting that notonly were his fees lacking, he was also a heretic in the eyes of the local godsand they were sending for an exorcist. Which—thank you, but no. He’d been exorciseda time or two in his childhood by people his well-meaning but ignorant parentsfound, and that had been painful enough.
Fortunately, none of his worse fears came to pass. In fact,he seemed caught in a state of more respectability than he’d had before, which…
“Why?” Hiram demanded of Tilda a few evenings down the line.He’d fielded plenty of visitors in the days since Lares, and while curiosityseemed to be peaking, they’d all had good reasons to visit an herbalist aswell. He dispensed medicinal teas for indigestion, sleep aids, soothingointments for skin issues, and several internal aids meant to either increaseor decrease fertility depending on what the person wanted. He was questioned,very gently and mostly by older woman, about how he was settling in to town,and after being assured that he liked it very much, he was patted on theshoulder and… “Why aren’t I being run out of town for what I put everyonethrough?”
Tilda smiled over a cup of tea—rosehip and yarrow, with ahint of licorice because she liked the flavor as she said, “Honestly, Hiram,you’d think you wanted to get run out of town. Have you considered thatsharing your private pain to the rest of us has made you more relatablerather than less? And I have to say, as bad as that was, it was far from aunique experience. Just stronger than we’re used to.” She tilted her head,silver strands amongst the brown catching the light from his fireplace. “And Ithink few of us minded seeing High Priest Melemor in a state of trueunderstanding, for once. He’s always been a very…formidable man, but not a verycompassionate one.”
Hiram stared at her. “So people like that I made him cry?”
“From what I’ve heard, they feel it’s only just, given thathe insisted you undergo the ritual in the first place.” She shrugged. “Be waryof testing one’s spirit, it might just test you back.”
“Huh.” Well, that was a bit of a relief. “What about—”
A blunt head pressed against his shin, and Hiram smiled downat Knight, who was doing much better with his hopping these days. “There youare, my dear,” he said indulgently. “Did you have a nice nap?” The rabbit nosedat him again. “Feeling hungry? Or would you prefer a bit of a cuddle?” Hiramset his cup aside, reached down, and heaved the rabbit into his lap. “Oof,” hegrunted. “You certainly haven’t gotten any lighter since you’ve been with me,have you? Let me have a look now, there’s a good lad…”
He inspected the wound on Knight’s leg. “Much better!” hepraised. “And your fur is growing back in and everything. You’ll be healed upbeautifully by midwinter, love.” He stroked over the rabbit’s back, and Knightstretched out to give him more room to work, eyes closing in bunny bliss.
“Goodness,” Tilda said archly. “Such politesse, and to arabbit no less! No wonder Master Surrus thinks so highly of you.”
Hiram blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Master Surrus, the school teacher. Handsome gentleman, abit retiring, and oh, yes—he swept you off your feet onto his horse and carriedyou away into the sunset the other day, from what I hear—”
“There was no sweeping,” Hiram insisted. “And no sunset, itwas barely past ten in the morning.”
Her eyes twinkled as she said, “But you did gosomewhere with him.”
“Well…yes.” Hiram felt oddly reluctant to talk about it. Hewouldn’t have said anything prurient, even if there was something of thatnature to say, and yet…something about Avery made him want to keep their timetogether private. It wasn’t so unusual—Avery was a private person and Hiram waslucky to have been invited into his home.
“Don’t worry,” Tilda said. “I won’t pry. It’s not my placeand I get the sense you wouldn’t tell me anything anyhow. I just think it’snice, that’s all.” Her smile dimmed a bit. “His social circle is even smallerthan yours, and he’s been here for years. Before you, the only person I everheard of visiting his cottage was Master Spindlestep.”
That correlated well to Hiram’s impressions of the youngerman. Still. “He should have more friends. He’s young, well known to the peoplehere, talented, a good conversationalist…”
“And I’m sure, with all these charms, that if he wanted morefriends he would have them,” Tilda said. “That he doesn’t speaks to a quirk ofhis character, not a fault of the people of Lollop. Most would welcome him intotheir social circle, if only to gossip about their children, but Master Surrusdefies that sort of convention. As is his right,” she added. “We’re all wildlycurious about him, of course, but Lollop knows how to respect the privacy ofthe individual.”
“Most of the time,” Hiram agreed.
“Yes.” Tilda sounded a bit tired. “Most of the time. Morelately, in fact—everyone is preparing for the Thread to come through in a fewweeks.”
“The Thread…” Hiram had encountered the Thread numeroustimes in distant villages, but only in his former persona. They were a searchparty, in a way, a group of individuals who represented the interests of godsand temples who might benefit from fresh blood.
For children who tested positive in their local temples formagical ability but lacked the means to get to a capital and go into trainingon their own, the Thread was their last hope. If a member of a Thread partycould vouch for your ability, they would take you along with them to thepractice that you fit best with no cost to your family. It wasn’t a foolproofsystem, but it was a bit of hope for the gifted children of poor villages whohad no other means of promoting their sparks and talents.
Every Thread party contained a wizard or sorcerer of somekind, a cleric or paladin of some god, and either a bard or a druid—both if youwere lucky. Between those specialties, almost all the basic sparkmanifestations were covered.
Sparks were almost always inherited. Hiram was one of thevery rare cases where neither of his parents showed any signs of magicalability, and neither did any family members going back three generations, whichwas as far as anyone he was related to could remember. His parents had thoughthe was cursed, hence the exorcisms gone awry, but here…
“Is there any spark to speak of in Letty’s family?” heasked.
Tilda sighed heavily. “Did Letty talk to you about having aspark?”
“No. Not directly,” he said. “Not quite. She said somethingabout being tested and not showing enough of an aptitude for Lollop to investin her education there.”
“It’s true. I don’t know much about Letty’s situationpersonally, but her mother…” Tilda shook her head. “That was a womanwith a spark. For healing, believe it or not. Celiane was actually apprenticedas a Cleric of Melemor for several years before she met her husband Granth.”
Wait a second. “Clerics of Melemor are required to take vowsof chastity.” The healing arts in particular could be a little finickydepending on the god, and Melemor didn’t like to come second to anyone else whenit came to his priests and clerics.
“Exactly. They met at a harvest festival. Granth was verycharming, and she got very drunk, and the next morning, well.” Tilda shook herhead. “They were found naked together in the back of the Brew’s stables. Celianetried to plead for forgiveness, but the head cleric at the time refused to takeher back. Then she turned up pregnant, and it was a quick wedding to Granth atthat point. It’s not been a happy marriage, we all know that,” she said. “Ican’t speak to the state of her spark, but I daresay it’s atrophied at thispoint. None of their children have tested highly, so far—Letty is the only onewho came close.”
Well. That was abhorrent. The blank-faced woman Hiram hadseen on the porch, surrounded by children and shouted at by her awful husband—shemight not have a spark anymore, but she surely remembered a time when she did.Remembered how it felt to be so close to a god that you could borrow theirpower and do good in the world. To be tied to such a man, gods, she must havefelt so awful that morning.
All the more reason to get Letty out of there if he could.He only had three more weeks of her time. He needed to coach her spark up asbright as it would go and get her in reach of the Thread, and then hopefullyshe would escape the fate that seemed laid out for her.
“I think there’s more to Letty than meets the eye,” Hiramsaid, careful to keep his voice light. “I’m no spark myself—” more like aconflagration “—but I’ve seen enough of them over the years to have a goodfeeling about her. And everyone deserves a chance to change their situation,especially when it’s one like hers.”
“I don’t control the Thread’s choices,” Tilda said, “but I’msure we could get her a meeting with them if you think it’s worthwhile.”
Hiram smiled brightly. “I think it just might be.”


