9.One fascinating aspect of Sanctuary is how much of their technology mirrors that of the Compact of Nations, despite their isolation. I’ve begun to suspect that the Lady might have imposed some guidelines on the world’s culture as a whole because as it turns out, this type of cooker is fairly common in the compact I just didn’t have exposure to them as I lived in a wagon.
10.Luckily I now know his tells and can make him spit it out.
Chapter eight
Berne
IN WHICH BERNE PUTTERS ABOUT, REVEALS HIS PLAN BEFORE THE COUNCIL OF SANCTUARY, AND FACES THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS ACTIONS
AloudhammeringinterruptedBerne’s attempt at confession. He’d been working up to it the entire time they’d been speaking, but he kept getting distracted by howniceit was to simply talk to her. He liked when she talked and he didn’t feel completely tongue-tied when speaking with her. Usually he was ill at ease when speaking with people he didn’t know well and rarely felt the need to have whole conversations. With Sirin, however, talking hadn’t seemed like a chore.
He’d much rather continue sitting here with her and see her settle into his house than answer the pounding. Berne wasextremelyannoyed at whoever was on the other side of his door and his nerves were raw. Trying to blot out the possibility that she’d be executed and steel himself, Berne wrenched the door open. Outside, Gunna, Jorund and Arnora, her fellow council members all peered into his house.
“We’ve come to retrieve the woman,” Gunna informed him, her voice sharp.
“We’ll be on our way in a minute, then.Sirinis eating now,“ he replied, trying to match the unyielding tone. The nerve of her, banging on his door like that, scaring Sirin so badly she nearly dropped her soup. He crossed his arms and did his best to loom. Behind Gunna, he could see Jorund and Arnora, refusing to meet his gaze. He frowned at them, they both opposed mandatory execution and while he hoped they would vote in Sirin’s favor, he was disappointed they were letting Gunna lead. As head of the council, she conducted their meetings, broke ties, and handled some of the more mundane leadership tasks. But the council was an egalitarian body, and them allowing Gunna to lead this case had worry seizing his stomach.
“You’ll not be accompanying us, Berne. We will send for yeh when, and if, you're needed,” Gunna said with a look that had always made him feel small.1Whenever she’d leveled that glare at him, he’d always felt like a boy caught stealing raspberries from her garden. Pushing that aside, he took a deep breath and drew himself to his full height. Sirin couldn’t afford for him to be cowed.
“I’ll be needed right now then, I’m thinking. Because Sirin knows nothing of our ways, and I’ll not have yeh tricking her. If I were to go before the council, I would be entitled to a sponsor, so I’ll be hers.”
Gunna screwed her face up and pointed a finger at his chest. “She’s not a Shade, so she’s not entitled to anything, Berne Brodersen. I will not have yeh choosing an outsider over your own.” She looked over his shoulder at Sirin, who was standing now. “And you’ll not ask him to choose. “
Sirin scoffed. “I have neither asked for nor expected any such thing. I maintain my innocence and that my intent is benign. I have nothing to fear.” Sirin swept past him and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t fret for me, Berne. I appreciate the hospitality and your kindness.” She smiled and followed the councilors out. As she walked past, Berne caught a tantalizing whiff of that scent that was distinctly her, but now mixed with the scent of his soap. She didn’t seem to notice the difference in terrain or temperature, she walked out the door with her head high and back straight.
Berne grabbed his hat to follow, but Jorund placed a hand on his chest to stop him as the women walked away. Jorund was only slightly smaller than Berne, a retired ranger himself. He’d always been someone Berne had looked up to, but now he snarled at him in frustration.
“Berne. Coming right now will only hurt her case. Gunna will that argue your infatuation with the girl is swaying yeh. I’ll make sure we call yeh in for your testimony later. She seems nice enough, Arndis had good things to say about her. If she isn’t executed, should yeh concentrate on making the place ready for a guest? I see yeh only have the one chair; where did yeh imagine she would sit, then? Get the place ready for a lady and we will be calling yeh round soon as yeh know it,” he clapped Berne on the shoulder before he turned and followed the others, who were already up the path quite a ways.
Berne watched Sirin’s back until they disappeared around the bend. He hated not being able to follow, but he certainly didn’t want to be a liability to her. So instead, he spent the next several hours tidying up the house to keep himself from going insane.
He tried to imagine what they could be discussing, but each time he made up a scenario, it ended with her being executed. But if Sirin was victorious, she’d need somewhere to stay as much as she’d need a friend. He could be both, so he wanted to make his house as comfortable and inviting as possible. Arranging a few blankets on the floor in a nest so he could sleep there as a bear if needed and he purred thinking about Sirin sleeping in his bed.
Once the house was spotless, Berne found several white rabbit furs and took them to his neighbor. The man crafted beautiful, sturdy furniture, and the furs got him a nice chair that he placed right next to his when he returned to the house. Even if things didn’t work out, he told himself, the chair would be nice for his nieces when they visited. He yawned when he got it settled, remembering that he’d not slept in nearly a day and a half. Shaking the sleep from his head, he reminded himself that he needed to focus on his plan and get the house ready for her until he was summoned. It was strange to him, feeling anxious at being alone like this.
He’d always been a solitary person; it was partially being a bear shifter was such a good fit for him. But lately, he’d been so damn lonely. His house seemed to echo around him, the shell he’d built with a family in mind dwarfed him even more now that she was gone. Sirin had filled the space in a way that made his home feel cozy again. Her smell was fading from the room, and he already missed how good it had felt to cook for her. He’d loved sharing meal together, it was comfortable. He’d like that to continue. He’d like to come home after a day of patrol to have someone there. It wasn’t that he needed someone to wait for him with dinner prepared. What he wanted was having someone waiting for him, to greet him with kind and loving words, warm arms to burrow into. And he liked the idea of that someone being Sirin. He imagined her, sitting by the fire, hunched over her wee books, drawing some plant or footprint she’d seen, her face lighting up as she heard him enter.
While waiting for word, he changed the linens on the bed, beat out his rugs, and even started a loaf of bread. Eventually, he found himself at loose ends and sat down with a yawn to review the laws forming the foundation of his backup plan. He wanted them memorized, so there could be no arguments. He had trouble though, his mind kept wandering to Sirin and what might be going on at the proceedings, or to what his life might be like if she stayed. The words on the page seemed to blur together as his lack of sleep caught up to him.
Bythetimehewoke up, it was dark out. He cursed under his breath, and berated himself for falling asleep at such a time. He shot out of his chair. If they hadn’t summoned him, they clearly had no intent to do so. Sirin had been gone for hours! Who knew what they were putting her through? He ripped his hat off of the hook and stuffed a few travel rations in his pocket, just in case Sirin was hungry. He ran the whole way to the town center. As he ran, he passed by people navigating the canals in rowboats, waving absently as he ran, his mind entirely focused on Sirin.
He’d never thought discussing the possibility of their death with someone would be so entertaining, but Sirin seemed determined this would work out, and truthfully, so had he. The possibility of being trapped here for the rest of her life didn’t seem to phase Sirin nearly as much as he thought it might. He didn’t mind the thought of her staying. More than that, he liked the idea of her staying with him in his house.
For the entire run, he worried, and he practiced what he would say to the council. Reviewing the words in his head, he chanted the laws that made up the backbone of the case he could present. If that didn’t work, he’d have tofinda way to get her out. His chest tightened when he thought of her leaving, of never seeing her again, so he focused his attention on the steady thump of his feet on the ground. It calmed him a bit, brought him back to his preferred stolid thought patterns.
It’s going to be fine, he thought as he considered what he’d do to smuggle Sirin out of the city if it came to that. He’d escort her wherever she needed to go, see her settled safe and sound. Maybe they could even stay in touch.
He made a disgusted sound. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It felt inadequate and wrong. Sure, he wanted her happy and alive, but he also wanted her to stay.
The large marble edifice of the municipal building loomed over the village, green in the dark. During the day, it looked damn cheery, but at night? At night it made him shudder. Was that intentional? The Lady did have a dark side sometimes.
Heavy wooden doors slammed open as he pushed his way into the council chambers. The room fell silent as Berne stood there searching for Sirin, and he growled when he saw her on the dais, wide-eyed and pale. At his noise, the councilors all turned from where they sat facing Sirin in a wide half-circle to look at him. Everyone looked exhausted, perhaps Sirin most of all. Each shuffle of his feet echoed through the vaulted ceilings, and several council members sat at their desks with a fork or cup halfway to their lips like he had interrupted their supper. Where the hell was Sirin’s food? They hadn’t even bothered to feed her! The large windows normally flooded the room with light only served as portals for the night to assert its dominance. Berne looked at each council member’s face, at each stern expression that fell in the dim light; so many faces he knew well were shuttered to him. When he looked to his mentor, Jorund pressed his lips together tightly and motioned with his hand, a ranger signal that meant danger ahead was unresolved. Great.
Sirin’s shoulders were slumped, and she’d barely lifted the corner of her mouth to smile when he entered. He didn’t wait to be told where to sit or stand. He stormed through the room and immediately mounted the dais to sit with Sirin. Berne rubbed her back, hoping that she could feel the calming message he tried to convey through his touch. She looked up at him smiling, and for a moment, he felt as if he’d done something extraordinary to earn such a prize. The smile trickled down him, warming him through and he leaned down, subconsciously drawn closer to her.
Gunna cleared her throat and called his attention back to the councilors. “It seems you’ve forgotten what little manners you’ve acquired in recent years, boy. Yeh were told that we would call for yeh if we needed you.”
“Seems yehforgotto call for me then, because yeh do need me,“ Berne said, raising his voice so they could all hear him. “But don’t fret, I’m here now, yeh just let me know when it’s time to say my piece.” He settled back into his chair, doing his best to embody the way he felt on the inside—like a bear pacing its cage.
