brother.

  "Light One have mercy," he exclaimed. "You're joinin' the Order? I can't believe it."

  "Stop shoutin'. I'm not joinin' the Order. Not exactly. They're just goin' to help me find a job. Until then, I have to do a little work for them."

  "What kind of work?" he asked suspiciously.

  "Odd jobs. Whatever they need," he answered evasively.

  "Don't they have acolytes to do that?"

  "Yeah, well, they won't help me if I don't do somethin' for them."

  Alain sighed. "I don't like it. I don't like the Order. I don't like you owin' them anythin'."

  "I don't like it either, but I don't have a choice."

  "You could join the guard like me."

  "No, I can't."

  "Why not?" the older man asked, looking confused. "You've got a good start as a fighter. You've been workin' out, right?"

  "Just trust me on this one. I can't be a guard."

  "Is it 'cause of Reese?"

  "No." He put his head to his hand. "I'm sorry, Alain. I've thought about it and thought about it. I know you don't like the Order. I don't like it either. But I've got no choice."

  "Are you alright, little brother? You don't seem like yourself."

  "That's one way of putting it," he thought bitterly. "I'm just a little upset about gettin' fired," he answered.

  "Alright. Well, if you got a job with the temple, can we get a new place?"

  "I think so. I spent the afternoon with Blake lookin' for better places."

  They talked about moving for the rest of the evening, and ate a small dinner in their own apartment.

  A week passed, and Eliora spent what spare time she had studying the Northern language. She tried to piece out conversations at dinner and practiced with the priest during her lessons. With observation, she had figured out the break down of the population. About a third seemed to be disaffected young men between twenty and thirty years of age. There were about twenty married couples, but no children. The rest of the population was compromised of widowers in their sixties who tended to keep to themselves, and a steady stream of traders. She had determined she was the only woman her age in the entire human community. Aidan instructed her in the afternoons, and abandoned her at dinner for his friends. All her life she had been surrounded by family and friends, and now no one seemed to want to talk to her, or even try. She knew it would be difficult to make friends as she seemed to be the only woman her age in the community, so she doubled her efforts to pick up the language in hopes that she could try to fill the emptiness in her heart.

  That night after dinner, Eliora decided not to leave immediately and study her books. She watched to see what people did in the evenings. When the plates were cleared the older men left the dining hall. The young men took over several tables next to each other, and brought out cards and board games. Even though there were about thirty of them, they all seemed to be a more or less cohesive group.

  "That's encouraging," she thought. "They seem to do the same things we do in the evenings. I wonder if they drink coffee, too."

  She got her answer within minutes, as a young man passed her to grab several mugs from the kitchen counter window. They were very frothy and full. "Alcohol," she thought with a frown, getting a sniff. She watched as he sat down with Aidan's group. Some played cards, but Aidan seemed involved in a board game with another person. She watched with interest, wondering if she could work out the rules. To her surprise, she recognized the game. "That's chess! How did these people learn it?" After a few moments thought, she decided that the mages must have spread it when they were ruling. Aidan won the game fairly quickly, and she plucked up her courage and went over to the table.

  "Excuse me," she said in Northern.

  The men looked at her, confused and amused.

  "What do you want?" Aidan asked rudely.

  "I would like to join in your games, if that's alright."

  He looked around at his friends. They sort of smiled and shrugged. "Alright. What games do you know?"

  "Maybe it would be better if you taught me your games. I don't think I've learned enough to explain mine very well." She smiled sheepishly.

  "Hey, Aidan, let her play with you," suggested one.

  "What?"

  "Sure." He leaned over, and said in a low voice, "If you beat her quick, maybe she'll go away."

  Eliora had plenty of practice in hearing low conversations from her scribe training, so she knew what the man said, but gave no sign of this.

  "And you can pay her back for knocking you on your rear," snickered another, in a voice that wasn't quite low enough.

  "Shut up," he snapped crossly. "She's stronger than she looks," he hissed to the man. He sighed. "Alright. This is chess. Do you know how to play?"

  "There is a game like this where I come from, but you'd best explain in case the rules are different."

  He tried to run through the rules in Northern, but when it was clear she didn't understand, he got frustrated and switched to the Light language to explain. It was exactly the same as the game she knew, only the pieces were called by different names. "I'll even let you go first."

  The game started, and conversation went on around her. She tried to join in, but to no avail. Aidan fell silent after fifteen minutes, when it became clear that she was a practiced player. After nearly two hours, Eliora finished her attack and trapped his king. "I win," she said quietly.

  He sort of laughed, and reached for the mage. Then he paused, and looked more closely at the board. "Godsdammit," he swore loudly. "When did you put that damn priest there?"

  The other young men looked at the board and started to smirk and laugh. Then one leaned over to Aidan and said, "Aren't you going to tell her about the special rules?"

  He gave the other a quizzical look.

  "You know, the ones you didn't bother with because you didn't think it would come up."

  "Yeah, those rules," chimed in another.

  "Oh, yeah," Aidan said. "Well, I forgot to tell you, you can't move the priest like that."

  "Why not?" she asked. The group was snickering rather loudly, as most had been drinking the whole time the game was going. Aidan, however, had only nursed one ale.

  "Well, that's just how we play here. See, when you've got the king here, and you've still got the queen, you can't use the priest like that. Sorry I didn't mention it before."

  She nodded, her face flushed with embarrassment. Usually she was very even-tempered, but the treatment she was receiving was making her angry. "I see. Well, shall we play again? I'll certainly keep that in mind next time."

  Some of the men were doing a bad job of holding in their giggles.

  "Alright, but if the game goes longer than two hours, I'll have to stop. You know, got to get to bed early."

  A couple snorted loudly, then drowned their laughter in ale.

  "Of course. I have lessons in the morning and shouldn't stay up late," she replied primly.

  Aidan reset the pieces. "You first," he said.

  She moved a piece, her eyes glinting like fire. The lamps in the room glowed just a little hotter and a little brighter. "I win," she declared, after less twenty moves.

  "What?" he exclaimed, staring at the board. "You can't have won. And certainly not so soon."

  The ones sitting next to them started to look at the board.

  "She's got you," one remarked. "Damn."

  "That's not possible. It's not just possible."

  "Unless there are some rules you forgot to tell me about. Again," she replied angrily.

  He looked at her sharply.

  "I'm not stupid. I'm sorry you think so. I'm sorry your friends think so." Her voice had a strange rumble in it. The rest of the group looked at her, uncertain of what they should do. She stood up. "But mostly I'm sorry I even bothered to try." She stepped daintily over the bench and marched straight out of the dining hall.

 
She marched straight into her cottage, so upset she forgot to lock the door. She threw herself on the bed and cried for nearly an hour. Drifting on the verge of sleep, she become aware of someone knocking at her door. She opened it with a sigh.

  "What do you want?" she asked, in the Light language.

  "I came to apologize," Aidan answered.

  "Apology accepted. Goodnight," she replied curtly.

  He stuck his boot in the doorjamb. "Now wait a minute."

  "Why? It's late, and I should get to bed."

  "I haven't apologized yet."

  "I've already accepted it. Goodnight," she said more sternly.

  He sighed. "Look, I haven’t been very nice."

  "Yes, I've noticed."

  "So I think I owe you an explanation."

  "What's to explain? I'm the only woman your age in this entire community, which immediately sets me apart if nothing else. I'm from another country, and I'm the Avatar of a god. I don't know your language, I don't know your customs. You don't accept me. And from the behavior of you and your friends this evening, it's clear to me you don't want to accept me. I'm going to respect your wishes," she replied, with more sorrow in her voice than anger. "Goodnight," she said again, and pushed him hard enough to dislodge his boot from the door. She quickly shut the door, locked it, and went to bed.

  A week passed in Renfrew. Dwyer found a fighting coach within in two days, so Donnan spent his time working at his tutor's house. The brothers also found a new place to live, which was in a nicer neighborhood near the northern side of the city. While they still shared a bedroom, it had a proper closet, a private bathing room, and enough room in the kitchen/living room area to set up a small dining