His mind, however, chose to add those frantic sex noises to the visage of a mysterious patron.
The lovers were probably asleep when Peter finished preparations for the next day and climbed into his loft bedroom. Thoughts went through his head: the stranger, theSeabird, the boys he’d sent on a journey.
His odd walk back revisited his mind. The slithering sound. The priest.
The priest’s words:
You’re not safe here. Leave.
Could a former pirate and mage-born be safe anywhere?
Chapter Nineteen
Martinhandedthetightlywrapped parcel to the temple clerk, arching to stretch his back. Today, a small delivery conducted on foot, only because the commander asked for this special favor.
“Martin! You’re back!” came an excited voice from behind.
He should have known he’d not escape the temple grounds without being spotted. Martin turned to face a delicately-built young man with high cheekbones, smooth, unblemished skin, and copper waves, dressed in clothes far finer than Martin would ever own. The perfect, typical temple dweller.
Cere had grown during their acquaintance, nearly of an age with Martin, but still retaining delicate features Martin never possessed. “Come with me to the garden?”
As much as he’d like to truly be a friend, Martin must be careful, especially after Cere kissed him. “I’m afraid I am needed. I have other duties.” Somehow Cere had wriggled his way into Martin’s affections with his puppyish need for attention.
But yet, how could Martin resist such a hopeful smile? “Well, maybe a moment.” Please let Cere not mention the kiss. There was no room in Martin’s life for kisses from a temple novice.
Cere led the way to the gardens. Even late into the season, flowers bloomed. The paths were strewn with shining white pebbles, matching the temple’s walls. Vine-covered arbors offered shade; ornate benches beckoned the weary to pause a moment, rest, and enjoy the meticulously kept gardens.
Or rather, beckoned the weary elite. Martin bet the tavernkeeper of the Stone’s Throw had never seen anything so fine.
No other novices roamed the pathways, just an army of gardeners. Oh, how many working people it took to keep this temple lavish.
“You know you’re attractive enough to join us, don’t you?”
This old argument. Martin shook his head. “I have no use for a life of leisure. I like my freedom to roam the city too much.”
“If you joined the order, you could stay here with me.” Cere gave Martin a smile that likely lured many to his bed.
Cere was Martin’s one regret, befriending one of the Lady’s own. He’d only meant to infiltrate, not engage. A city guard and occasional deliveryman, he should have been invisible. This temple-dweller alone saw him. Acknowledged him.
So different from all the others, who barely acknowledged Martin’s new rank of Captain. “You know I can’t.”
“You won’t.” Cere pouted.
Martin lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Even if I presented myself, I am far past the age to be a novice.”
Cere ran an appreciative gaze over Martin’s body. “If you don’t try, you’ll never know.” After a moment, his smile fell, as did his gaze. “I must go. Will you be back soon?”
“Yes. In a few days.”
“I will see you then, my friend. Look for me?” Without waiting for a reply, Cere took another path, disappearing around a tree.
Without a kiss. Good.
Martin sighed, staring after one of his few friends in this place. While he didn’t enjoy the gossip of others, he had no wish to alienate anyone.
The very man he wanted to see waited across the street when he stepped from the gardens.
Brown gloves, boots, cassock, and a hood hid every inch of the priest. Martin had never caught a single glimpse of skin. Likewise, Dmitri’s accent revealed nothing—he could have been from anywhere. The same held true for the other priests Martin saw.
