identity will of course have to remain secret – no one would believe us if we did tell, and that would work against my purposes.”
“Your purposes, Mum?”
“You don’t think I inhabited an aging ingénue in the ass-crack of the wilderness for the excitement , do you?” Ishi asked, coolly. “I do have a purpose, and that purpose aligns, for the most, with those of the Baroness. My time here will be short, but I shall leave your lives better for it, I think.”
“M-may I ask, Mum . . . what is your purpose?” the gawky girl asked, bringing her a warm mantle to drape across her shoulders, unbidden. That was a good sign. Lespeth may have had an unfortunate overbite and an overabundance of freckles, but she was smart and compassionate. Ishi didn’t mind the homeliness. She’d had worse to work with.
“To restore Vorone to health, to establish Duke Anguin thoroughly on his throne, and enliven the folk of the Wilderlands in support of him.”
“The Goddess of Love and Beauty is going to do that? ” Lespeth asked, still confused. “Shouldn’t that rightly be Duin’s domain? Or Luin’s?”
“Warcraft and lawcraft will not save the duchy from destruction,’ she explained, patiently. “Not when the spirit of the people is broken and hope is so elusive. I was asked to do something constructive, Lespeth, and this is what I can do. Nor is it a small power I bring to bear – merely more subtle than axe or decree. Indeed, it is a very subversive power, affecting things in subtle ways and producing unexpected results. It’s all in the way you use it,” she said, more to herself than the servant.
But that reminded her of business. “Elspeth, tell me, how many servants are there?”
“Just me, Mum, the cook, the valet, and the butler.”
“For a house this size? That will never do. What is the state of your Mistress’ finances?”
“Oh, she was quite frugal, Mum. Is quite frugal,” she amended. “She has a few hundred in silver in her chamber, and she has an account with the Temple of Ifnia and a silversmith. But not much with either,” she confessed.
“That will not do, either. Every girl needs coin, if she’s to get anything accomplished.”
“Excuse me, Mum, but the Baroness has tried to get credit from several sources, and has been spurned, even from old friends. That’s one reason why she . . . she beseeched you. We were down to our last bit of silver. Creditors were starting to call.”
“I gathered,” Ishi said, dryly, looking around at the faded tapestries and old furniture in the Baroness’ chamber. She had made a magnificent effort, Ishi had to admit. Amandice had paid faithful attention to all of the subtle hints about decoration, color, contrast and placement the Scarlet Temple had taught her, and had added some inspired touches of her own to blend it with the floral theme of the hall.
But it just wouldn’t do. Not for what she had planned. It was far too shabby, and far too common.
“First, we need some servants,” she directed. “Then some students. Then a change of décor. A desperate change of decor. And a thorough cleaning. Tell me, dear Elspeth,” she asked, suddenly, “where can I find the most desperate of the desperate, in Vorone?”
“Why, everyone is a bit desperate, Mum,” the bucktoothed girl admitted. “But the sorriest lot have to be the poor frozen souls in the camps outside the gates.”
“Then that is where we will begin, tomorrow morning,” the goddess in human form pledged. “For what we need to do, human hearts are worth more than silver and gold. And only amongst the most desperate can you see, really see, what lies within a human heart.”
“If you say so, Mum,” the servant girl agreed, reluctantly. “But we’ll as like get our throats slit for our shoes, as stir the kettle of human compassion, out there. Those folk are desperate . Especially in the
“Your purposes, Mum?”
“You don’t think I inhabited an aging ingénue in the ass-crack of the wilderness for the excitement , do you?” Ishi asked, coolly. “I do have a purpose, and that purpose aligns, for the most, with those of the Baroness. My time here will be short, but I shall leave your lives better for it, I think.”
“M-may I ask, Mum . . . what is your purpose?” the gawky girl asked, bringing her a warm mantle to drape across her shoulders, unbidden. That was a good sign. Lespeth may have had an unfortunate overbite and an overabundance of freckles, but she was smart and compassionate. Ishi didn’t mind the homeliness. She’d had worse to work with.
“To restore Vorone to health, to establish Duke Anguin thoroughly on his throne, and enliven the folk of the Wilderlands in support of him.”
“The Goddess of Love and Beauty is going to do that? ” Lespeth asked, still confused. “Shouldn’t that rightly be Duin’s domain? Or Luin’s?”
“Warcraft and lawcraft will not save the duchy from destruction,’ she explained, patiently. “Not when the spirit of the people is broken and hope is so elusive. I was asked to do something constructive, Lespeth, and this is what I can do. Nor is it a small power I bring to bear – merely more subtle than axe or decree. Indeed, it is a very subversive power, affecting things in subtle ways and producing unexpected results. It’s all in the way you use it,” she said, more to herself than the servant.
But that reminded her of business. “Elspeth, tell me, how many servants are there?”
“Just me, Mum, the cook, the valet, and the butler.”
“For a house this size? That will never do. What is the state of your Mistress’ finances?”
“Oh, she was quite frugal, Mum. Is quite frugal,” she amended. “She has a few hundred in silver in her chamber, and she has an account with the Temple of Ifnia and a silversmith. But not much with either,” she confessed.
“That will not do, either. Every girl needs coin, if she’s to get anything accomplished.”
“Excuse me, Mum, but the Baroness has tried to get credit from several sources, and has been spurned, even from old friends. That’s one reason why she . . . she beseeched you. We were down to our last bit of silver. Creditors were starting to call.”
“I gathered,” Ishi said, dryly, looking around at the faded tapestries and old furniture in the Baroness’ chamber. She had made a magnificent effort, Ishi had to admit. Amandice had paid faithful attention to all of the subtle hints about decoration, color, contrast and placement the Scarlet Temple had taught her, and had added some inspired touches of her own to blend it with the floral theme of the hall.
But it just wouldn’t do. Not for what she had planned. It was far too shabby, and far too common.
“First, we need some servants,” she directed. “Then some students. Then a change of décor. A desperate change of decor. And a thorough cleaning. Tell me, dear Elspeth,” she asked, suddenly, “where can I find the most desperate of the desperate, in Vorone?”
“Why, everyone is a bit desperate, Mum,” the bucktoothed girl admitted. “But the sorriest lot have to be the poor frozen souls in the camps outside the gates.”
“Then that is where we will begin, tomorrow morning,” the goddess in human form pledged. “For what we need to do, human hearts are worth more than silver and gold. And only amongst the most desperate can you see, really see, what lies within a human heart.”
“If you say so, Mum,” the servant girl agreed, reluctantly. “But we’ll as like get our throats slit for our shoes, as stir the kettle of human compassion, out there. Those folk are desperate . Especially in the
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