“Cynically, it was a very public performance,” Arvus said.
Molun and Nisal nodded in agreement.
Perian shrugged. “Could be, I suppose. And honestly, as long as he’s not hiding any similar secrets, I’m all right with that. I’m not expecting to become best friends, and if he wants to distance himself from Venoran by using me, as long as it actually means he doesn’t get involved in any of the heckling or anything that might come out of this, that’s fine with me.”
Molun nudged him. “You’re too nice.”
Perian huffed a laugh. “I’d much rather not fight than fight.”
He’d much rather make love, though that clearly wouldn’t do for dinner. The meal had been oddly devoid of desire, now that Perian thought about it. It was something he’d become more aware of as he got to know all these people, and he was sure it was ages since the room had seemed so… flat. Perhaps because the topic of conversation had been of desire twisted and gone so horribly wrong, Perian hadn’t noticed any of the usual looks or feelings, not even among his own group, who’d been closest to him and whom he knew best.
Perian shrugged. “I could be wrong, but he seemed sincere to me.”
Brannal slipped an arm around Perian’s shoulders, and Perian happily slotted in at his side.
“Time will tell,” Brannal said. “And we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
Perian certainly felt safe in this group.
It was a relief when Brannal informed him that Venoran had been transported. Perian hadn’t heard so much as a peep from him since he’d been incarcerated in the dungeon, of course, but there had been a chance he could have gotten out. He was still in the same building, and that had made Perian more uneasy than he realized, until the man was gone and he suddenly relaxed completely.
Brannal and Onadal had both given the Mage Warriors and the Warriors stern lectures about the standard of behavior that was acceptable. They made it very clear that everyone had better hold themselves up as role models or they weren’t going to be working here very long. Brannal and Onadal had also made clear that they, Yallon, or Delana were all available should anyone need to report any issues that they had witnessed or experienced, and all allegations would be treated seriously.
Brannal had asked Perian to come with him when he announced it to the kitchen staff, thinking they might be reassured by Perian’s presence. Unprompted, he’d assured everyone that they could always talk to him, too. He’d been both happy andhorrified when three people had slipped up to talk to him over the next few days. No allegations were as severe as Venoran’s, thankfully, but none were good. He wished no one had to go through this, but he was glad they now felt safe enough to speak up. There was a shuffling of staff amidst the Warriors, Mage Warriors, and castle staff. (Brannal had been particularly stony-faced about the Mage Warrior, but he sure hadn’t been lenient.)
Perian kept receiving little hearts, and he collected all of them. Brannal produced a basket that he could keep them in, and he carefully arranged them on a shelf in the sitting room. He thanked everyone in the kitchen for the berry pie and the hearts, and he hoped everyone would feel safe and happy in the future.
And then he went to Brannal and Onadal and proposed self-defense classes for anyone who wanted to join.
The two of them exchanged glances.
“NotWarriorclasses,” Perian clarified. “But… kneeing people in the groin. Grabbing hair, breaking noses, jabs to the kidneys, that sort of thing. How to fall and get out of an attacker’s grasp. So people can fight back. It’s great that you’ve talked to everyone, and the Warriors and Mage Warriors should be doing a great job of protecting everyone, but they’re not everywhere all the time, and—”
Brannal laid a hand on Perian’s arm, and he stopped talking.
“We should have thought of it sooner,” Brannal said.
Onadal was nodding his head in agreement.
Perian deflated in relief as he realized he didn’t need to keep arguing.
Brannal sighed. “Tramad was… very traditional. When he was Summus, we all had set roles, and there wasn’t a lot of overlap. I didn’t realize how much of that mentality I carried with me unconsciously.”
Grimacing, Onadal said, “We’re the best-protected location in the country, and it didn’t occur to us to offer the people we care for the means to protect themselves. Thank you, Perian.”
Perian smiled at them. “Yes, of course.”
Actually, it explained a lot about the atmosphere Perian had encountered when he’d started training. Brannal had only been Summus for six years when Perian arrived. Tramad had apparently been Summus for thirty years before that. Brannal always spoke of him with respect, but Perian had the feeling he wouldn’t have liked the old man very much.
“Perhaps we can see if Delana would like to do some of the training,” Brannal proposed.
Onadal nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’m sure she’d like to be involved.”
They settled in to talk about the details, and Perian felt very accomplished for having gotten the ball rolling.
Brannal left again, for two nights this time, for a lesser demon attack in a nearby village. He took Delana, Onadal, and multiple Warriors with him. Perian spent two nights with Molun and Arvus as they assured him that everything was going to be fine, and he agreed with them and then stressed about it anyway.
They came back, perfectly fine, just as they’d left, and Perian dragged Brannal to bed and showed him just how happy he was that he’d come through this unscathed. Perian had never seen a lesser demon in the flesh, but they were apparently bigger than horses and had lots of fur, teeth, and claws. And unfortunately, to get the energy they needed to consume to survive, they had to kill people. They ate the energy as it escaped the dying body, or so the books Perian had read on the subject explained. It made them dangerous.
