“Good,” he said. “Now, you can start by showing me where I may find some food. I need more of those cheese tarts.”
Desdra quickly stood up from the rock. “Come inside,” she said. “There is food in the main reception room. There’s always food there, but if you do not find anything you like, tell me and I shall tell the cook to make you whatever you wish.”
Jareth stood up, moving to follow her, but her hair was so long that it got caught on a rough part of the rock. Instinctively, he reached out to free it, feeling those silken strands in his hand before she even realized her hair had been caught. When she felt it and turned around, she caught him with her hair in his hands.
“It was caught,” he said, feeling foolish as he quickly released it. “I did not mean to be bold.”
She merely smiled, though it was done as if she wasn’t sure what else to do. As if his action had caught her off guard. “Thank you for your concern,” she said, smoothing her hair down. “It was kind.”
“Your hair is very long.”
She kept smoothing it. “It is,” she agreed. “I have never cut it.”
“You shouldn’t. A woman’s hair is her crown.”
“I have a very long crown.”
Jareth didn’t know how to respond to that because he’d already been caught touching her hair. He didn’t want to sound like he was complimenting her hair because he didn’t want her to think that he might actually think her hair was lovely.
He did, but he didn’t wantherto know that.
Silently, he followed her back into the building where two Guardians stood at the door. Truthfully, they were ridiculously large men, fearsome, and Jareth paused to look at them as he came inside. They gazed back at him steadily, knowing who he was. Everyone knew who he was. Jareth found himself inspecting both of them, looking at the weapons they carried at their side.
“That is a fine weapon,” he said to the man on the right. “Where did you train?”
“Blackchurch, my lord.”
Jareth looked at him in astonishment. The Blackchurch Guild was the premier training guild for warriors in the world. After a knight completed his regular training, years of it, sometimes they would continue on to Blackchurch and hope they could pass all of the rigorous program.
It was like no other training guild in the world.
Blackchurch was an equal-opportunity establishment—men who had never had a day of training in their lives could also participate as long as they passed the entry tests, and there were a litany of them. Big, strong men straight off a farm could train at Blackchurch for a better life, providing they passed every single course with every single trainer. One failure and they were expelled. Some men would make it up to the final course only to fail at something, and then they were out.
It happened more often than not.
But those were the strict standards that Blackchurch functioned by. When a man graduated Blackchurch, he was literally perfect, and that made Blackchurch warriors the most highly coveted anywhere. After five years of intense training, by the best knights and warriors in the world, they could command a very high price. Blackchurch-trained warriors served kings and princes and powerful warlords.
Jareth had never heard of one serving at a brothel.
“Youare a Blackchurch-trained warrior?” he said incredulously.
The man nodded. “I am, my lord.”
That only seemed to confuse Jareth further. “Forgive me, but why are you not serving with a great army somewhere?” he asked. “Why are you here?”
The man smiled faintly. “Because Lord Chester pays me twice as much as a king could,” he said. “I have a large family to support, my lord. It is true that I am highly trained, but I do not do this for the love of battle. I do it for the love of money.”
Jareth couldn’t fault the man his honesty. “What is your background?”
The man chuckled. “You will be disappointed, my lord.”
“Why?”
“Because I am a blacksmith’s son.”
Jareth shook his head. “I am not disappointed,” he said. “I am deeply impressed. What is your name?”
“I am called Heracles, my lord,” he said. Then he gestured to the other man. “This is Orpheus. He is also Blackchurch trained, though he only made it to the third year.”
