season content notes: violence, abduction

On the way home, Iberto took the time to think on what he was doing. Gathering Called, yes. But it wouldn’t matter how many Called he gathered. The goddes had all had Called, had been fully in their power when the monks took them down. Bringing in new Called would strengthen the goddes, yes. And perhaps they would be better able to fight back now that they recognized the threat. But would that be enough?

It wouldn’t. This wasn’t a thing he could do alone — could do at all, perhaps. Taking down the monks would require skills neither he nor his goddess had.

Since this Called, unlike the last, was traveling not only calmly but willingly with him, he decided to try talking. They rode that day in a private carriage the new Called had arranged. It would only take them to the next city, but that was just as well — he preferred traveling on his own feet. But for now, this did make for easy conversation.

He turned to the new Called and suddenly realized just how much he had forgotten. “I was… am… Iberto. What is your name?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Irene Senshal. I thought you knew who I was. How else — why else — did you hunt me?”

Well. That was a fair question for a human. And gave him the opening he needed.

“You are tied to the temple — to one of the goddes at the temple,” he began.

Eyes wide and face pale, she nodded. “And that is why you sought me? Because I have this… tie?”

“A strong tie, one of the strongest.”

He watched as she thought that through. “But, surely the priests…”

“There are no priests,” he hissed. Then he caught himself and took a breath. “I tell you now things not known outside the temple. Most of the goddes have no priests. I am the first to serve the Great Goddess in generations and I was only called to her service less than a year ago.”

“How can that be? The shrines and lesser temples are…” he watched as she remembered the temples she had seen on her travels, as the awareness filled her eyes. “… are filled with lay votaries and monks. How? Why? And what–

“I mean no insult, but I have never been a follower of the Great Goddess.”

He burst out laughing.

“And I mean no insult when I say you would make a poor one.” He shook his head. “No, my goddess sent me to find you, but I hunt for another godde. I would say no more, but I think you will find yourselves well-suited.”

“A godde who has no priest.”

Iberto nodded, holding her gaze. “Who is alone and fading. One of the greatest brought low through treachery and the obliviousness of those who claim to follow them.”

“And you are doing something about it. About — the monks?”

“Yes.”

She thought some time more, then nodded. “Good. I’ll skin them of everything they own, and you dispose of what’s left.”

They grinned at each other in perfect understanding. Ally the word came to him. And partner. It could not be done alone, but it could be done.

In the next town, Irene made him wait while she wandered, listening to different street musicians and at tavern doors. Finally, she seemed satisfied and approached a pair of them, offering to buy them a drink. Iberto followed the trio to a table, where they spoke of normal things: trading news and commonplaces. Then she asked, “You see my companion?”

“Ye-es,” one said, careful not to look at Iberto, “No offense, but he isn’t a comfortable table mate.”

“None taken,” Iberto said with a smile.

“He isn’t meant to be,” Irene continued smoothly. “He is the Called of the Great Goddess and left the temple to hunt for me. I am going back to the temple with him, to see what waits for me there.” She dropped a gold coin on the table and stood. “Spread the word: the goddes wake and the Great Goddess hunts again. Her chosen will ride forth to seek others, and any who return willingly to the temple will be rewarded. Greatly.”

The musicians stared at the coin, then glanced at Iberto. “Is this true?”

Iberto thought for a moment. Rewarded? That was one way to put it. “Yes.” He took a closer look at the younger of the minstrels. “You, I think I will be seeing again.”

“And those who are not willing?” the older minstrel asked, his hand protectively on his partner’s shoulder.

“Will come with me to the temple bound and dragged. But will be free to leave after we arrive.”

The men tried to glare at Iberto, but couldn’t actually meet his eyes. Iberto didn’t care, too interested in examining the trail that led from the young one off into the distance. “Yes. I will see you again.”

The young one swallowed but did not back down.

“How long?” the voice trembled only a little. Iberto was impressed.

Yes, this one would do well when the time came.

“I cannot say.”

He looked to Irene, who nodded. “Thank you for your time,” she said, and they left the tavern to the sound of the two arguing fiercely behind them.

Once they were away, he asked, “Why?”

“A small payment, on a debt I will never make right.”

That made no sense to Iberto, but he doubted it was meant to.

They spent the night in that town so they could get a fresh start in the morning. But when they reached the gate the next morning, they saw both minstrels there ahead of them.

The young one looked at Iberto and said, “You said we’d see each other again. But I want to do this on my terms.”

Iberto grinned and saw the minstrel quail, but they managed to hold their ground. “You will do well,” he pronounced.

Then he looked to the o

ther minstrel. The man still would not meet his gaze but was clearly prepared to be stubborn. “There’s more to this story. I want to learn it.”

“And protect your… friend?” Irene asked.

“That, too.”

Iberto thought about it and took a closer look at the man. His grin widened. The man wasn’t tied to the temple, but something, a possibility, tied him to Iberto. Here, too, was one who hunted.

He looked back at Irene and said, “Your debt is paid.”

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