Interlude
Up The River
1
JEAN WAS away at the House of Glass Roses the afternoon that Locke found out he was going to be sent up the Angevine to live on a farm for several months.
Hard rains were pounding Camorr that Idler’s Day, so Chains had taken Locke, Calo, and Galdo down into the dining room to teach them how to play Rich-Man, Beggar-Man, Soldier-Man, Duke—a card game that revolved around attempting to cheat one’s neighbor out of every last bent copper at his disposal. Naturally, the boys took to it quickly.
“Two, three, and five of Spires,” said Calo, “plus the Sigil of the Twelve.”
“Die screaming, half-wit,” said Galdo. “I’ve got a run of Chalices and the Sigil of the Sun.”
“Won’t do you any good, quarter-wit. Hand over your coins.”
“Actually,” said Father Chains, “a Sigil run beats a Sigil stand, Calo. Galdo would have you. Except—”
“Doesn’t anyone care what I’ve got in my hand?” asked Locke.
“Not particularly,” said Chains, “since nothing in the game tops a full Duke’s Hand.” He set his cards on the table and cracked his knuckles with great satisfaction.
“That’s cheating,” said Locke. “That’s six times in a row, and you’ve had the Duke’s Hand for two of them.”
“Of course I’m cheating,” said Chains. “Game’s no fun unless you cheat. When you figure out how I’m cheating, then I’ll know you’re starting to improve.”
“You shouldn’t have told us that,” said Calo.
“We’ll practice all week,” said Galdo.
“We’ll be robbing you blind,” said Locke, “by next Idler’s Day.”
“I don’t think so,” said Chains, chuckling, “since I’m sending you off on a three-month apprenticeship on Penance Day.”
“You’re what?”
“Remember last year, when I sent Calo off to Lashain to pretend to be an initiate in the Order of Gandolo? And Galdo went to Ashmere to slip into the Order of Sendovani? Well, your turn’s come. You’ll be going up the river to be a farmer for a few months.”
“A farmer?”
“Yes, you might have heard of them.” Chains gathered the cards from around the table and shuffled them. “They’re where our food comes from.”
“Yes, but…I don’t know anything about farming.”
“Of course not. You didn’t know how to cook, serve, dress like a gentleman, or speak Vadran when I bought you, either. So now you’re going to learn something else new.”
“Where?”
“Up the Angevine, seven or eight miles. Little place called Villa Senziano. It’s tenant farmers, mostly beholden to the duke or some of the minor swells from the Alcegrante. I’ll dress as a priest of Dama Elliza, and you’ll be my initiate, being sent off to work the earth as part of your service to the goddess. It’s what they do.”
“But I don’t know anything about the Order of Dama Elliza.”
“You won’t need to. The man you’ll be staying with understands that you’re one of my little bastards. The story’s just for everyone else.”
“What,” said Calo, “are we going to do in the meantime?”
“You’ll mind the temple. I’ll only be gone two days; the Eyeless Priest can be sick and locked away in his chambers. Don’t sit the steps while I’m away; people always get sympathetic if I’m out of sight for a bit, especially if I cough and hack when I return. You two and Jean can amuse yourselves as you see fit, so long as you don’t make a bloody mess of the place.”
“But by the time I get back,” said Locke, “I’ll be the worst card player in the temple.”
“Yes. Best wishes for a safe journey, Locke,” said Calo.
“Savor the country air,” said Galdo. “Stay as long as you like.”