Chapter XIX: The Gallows

“They’re making bets on you,” Lufti told Henry at one point through the bars as he leaned against them and ate a biscuit that he tore lethargically and chewed even slower. He looked at Henry who pretended like he didn’t care that Lufti was telling him that he was the newest gambling addiction for the… Continue reading Chapter XIX: The Gallows

Chapter XVII: Murder

All around Trennon, it was known as the Bishop’s Stand and it was as heroic sounding as the name implied. There were wild rumors at the taverns and alehouses around Drunkard’s Avenue and Innkeepers’ Row. There were dramatic retellings with the Bishop calling down Mirna who stuck a fiery sword through Faolan’s right hand man’s… Continue reading Chapter XVII: Murder

Chapter XVI: The Offering

The supplies, that the Bishop had been hoarding, did not turn out to be for an army that was marshalling. In fact, in the coming weeks, the city was abuzz with whispers of war and battle, people vowing revenge against the Woodlanders, but others whispered about the wealth of Umberlyn sitting there, untouched and waiting… Continue reading Chapter XVI: The Offering

Chapter XV: Compassion

Monthly, the furnaces were stopped, heat stopped boiling the water that travelled through the pipes, warming the floors, the baths, and slipping out into the sky, high above the Chapel. When the mist cleared from the bathhouse and the waters stilled while the patrons left, leaving their offerings in the wooden box before they vanished… Continue reading Chapter XV: Compassion

Chapter XIV: Retribution

The sewer was a wretched smelling place, and when Henry descended down the path that he had followed Red Hair and the other Bog Lords through, he was painfully reminded of just how horrible it smelled. He had slipped down the side of the Chapel, carefully making his way down, past the windows that were… Continue reading Chapter XIV: Retribution

Chapter XIII: The Stand

For days, Henry left the coin in his room, horrified of it, too fearful to touch it. He didn’t want to think about his encounter with the man whose eyes wept smoke and whose skin was as pale as spider silk. But, at the same time, it was all that he could think of. Even… Continue reading Chapter XIII: The Stand

Chapter XII: The Coin

It took a month for life in the Chapel to become normal, or at least, understandable for Henry. It was a place, much like the workshop back in Umberlyn, that thrived on routine and order. Fumbling his way through all of it, Henry eventually understood the way things worked and where he was needed in… Continue reading Chapter XII: The Coin

Chapter XI: The Switch

Brother Firat’s method of instruction was not the method that Henry was used to, but when the switch slashed across his knuckles, Henry found himself remembering the letters a lot faster. The desk that he was assigned to had confused him at first, the strange marks where it looked like wild animals had been clawing… Continue reading Chapter XI: The Switch

Chapter X: Henry the Initiate

The robes were heavy, the weight of them were strange on Henry. He wasn’t used to the feeling. He realized how cold he was now, how he had adapted to a harsher world where he couldn’t think about the child that had seeped inside of him. He couldn’t worry about things like that when his… Continue reading Chapter X: Henry the Initiate

Chapter IX: The Centurion’s Gambit

The man did not answer. He reached behind him, through the folds of the cloak that had been thrown over his shoulders, looking more like a cape now than a cloak. He withdrew a cloth, tarnished and stained with what looked like the blood of numerous other misguided attackers. He wiped his blade with a… Continue reading Chapter IX: The Centurion’s Gambit