Deathless (Editing)

Chapter 7: Still Waters Run Deep

As promised, Tolly returned smelling of fresh earth. His cheeks were pink from exertion, and sweat glistened on his forehead. He entered with a small bow, which garnered him an incredulous glare from me.

So now he remembered his manners?

I watched him wind his way to the table in perturbed silence.

"The Lord High Commander was pleased by your performance," Tolly murmured, taking a chair in front of me and serving himself a heaping helping of sliced gamebird.

"Oh, really?"

He flashed his brows up. A sly smile slit his lips. "Yeah." He left the word hanging, like an invitation to protest his conclusion.

And, protest I did. "Yeah," I mocked, "he left in a huff."

Tolly's smile lengthened, and a wild gleam caught in his pale blue eyes. I had seen that very same gleam just seconds ago, but from a different man. "I saw." He then sucked a drip of gravy from his thumb. "The Lord High Commander was angry," he noted, almost excitedly.

"You like seeing your Lord High Commander angry?" Because it sure sounded that way. Which was odd. Who liked to see their superior angry?

"Not particularly." Tolly shrugged then reached for some bread. "But, this was different. He seemed fixed on something, on an idea. I like seeing that. I like progress." And then he carefully, almost surgically, began cutting into his gamebird. "Truth be told, I never cared for the Morning Priest, either."

My eyes narrowed at this. The Morning Priest was revered among the citizens of the Silts, wielding more power than any governor or lord in the region. It was quite possible that the Morning Priest held more sway over the Southerners than even the Emperor, whose power seemingly diminished with each mile beyond his own stronghold, the Greater Grand.

Tolly's eyes then flitted to me. His grin sharpened. "Come now, you're not diverted by the old man's cheap parlor tricks."

My back raised at the heavy insinuation that he thought me a simpleton.

But, honestly, I did not find much good in the leadership of the Silts, including the Morning Priest. Perhaps I was particularly biased due to the man's incessant fawning over Azure. He had forced her to take lessons in religion at the Temple, which kept her at the Temple from morning until nightfall. Mistress was convinced that the Morning Priest would pluck her from the unwashed masses and ordain her into the Kindly Ones, Temple virgins who kept the Sacred Fire fed and burning.

The Morning Priest also believed Azure to be the cause behind the Tree of Life budding after a century of dormancy. He never said the words, explicitly, but I knew it. I caught the wistful glances he gave her when he spoke of the God of Life during the Saturday evening observances, where the men and women of the Silts gathered to lend their ears and hearts to the Temple wise-men and -women.

I frowned at Tolly, but my lips were sealed.

Tolly laughed at my quiet indignation between chews. "Ah, you're not as daft as I once thought."

"What of the Night Priest and the Water Priest?" Were they more of the same? Were they really masters of their elements? By all accounts, the Bone Priest possessed dangerous magic that could fell a squadron of Imperial soldiers.

Tolly cocked an inquisitive brow. "I've spent much of my boyhood caught between the Veil and the Greater Grand. I never had occasion to meet the Priests of the Night or the Water."

"What makes you think the Morning Priest is a fraud?"

"Just a feeling." He shrugged and continued scarfing down food. "Eat!" he muttered, pointing to my empty plate.