The streets of Darluth were jam packed as always, but the mood was even more festive as the city was preparing for the games. New temporary stalls were being constructed and the town green was cordoned off while they built stands, archery ranges, and pits. This time last year Tammer was as excited as everyone else, though he hadn’t competed; he had been on duty then, but he had one of the best views of the goings-on.

  This year, he couldn’t summon the energy to care.

  The second section received word that Gentren had died. The infection had been fast and aggressive. They had all been given the week off to grieve.

  The rest of his men had used the unexpected time to go visit their families; unlike him and Liesl, Taryn and Ferg were from the Near End. Liesl chartered her way to her hometown on a ferry; it was less direct, but ultimately faster.

  Tammer decided to stay in Darluth. He didn’t have anything to do, so he walked aimlessly through the streets. Normally he strode through Darluth in his armor, but now he was practically unrecognizable in his simple linen tunic and breeches - he felt almost indecent.

  He could have gone home, but it would have cost him much of his precious savings to do so, which would have only made it that much longer to bring his family to him. Though, he thought sardonically, the time it will take will be that much less, since he no longer had Kata.

  The night Tammer and his section returned from Darluth and after they were finally relieved of duty, he had returned to his room and received a letter from home, another one rushed to him from his mother. In it she told him that Kata had married someone else about a month ago.

  Tammer wiped his nose and glowered at the ground. His chest ached and his stomach clenched as he remembered what his mother wrote to him. All morning it had played through his mind, and he didn’t quite know if he was more heartbroken or angry.

  He punched the side of a tobacco shop as he walked. How could she not tell him? Did she think he wouldn’t find out? What was she going to do when he sent the money for her to come? Just keep it and never show?

  On the other hand, he should have expected it. It had been six years since he last saw her. Six long years, and he probably wouldn’t have even recognized her. He certainly didn’t look the same. He didn’t the same, either. Even before Linford, he was more hardened, more disciplined, and much less idealistic than he’d been when she knew him. That hadn’t entirely gone away, apparently, if he had been foolish enough to think that Kata would have been content to wait that long for him.

  But still, he had been telling her that he would have the money in the next couple months. He had been honest with her, consistent in his letters. But he’d been saving up to bring her and his family at the same time. If she had just him that her father was growing impatient and scouting for suitors, he would have sent what he had to bring her first. He could have brought her a year ago.

  Tammer stopped to let a group of young children run by. They carried pinwheels and were laughing, running to see the workers put up the royal family’s porch in the green. Tammer looked up to find his wandering had brought him outside the Grand Cathedral of the Hearth.

  He hadn’t gone inside the Grand Cathedral since he had first come to Darluth. Now, when he had never felt so lost, it seemed as good a time as any to try to find some guidance.

  The imposing stone doors were a storey tall and boasted no ornament other than rusted iron pull rings. It was not a holy day so Tammer hesitated, unsure if he was allowed to enter. He took a heavy pull ring in his hand and tested it. Despite its size, the door swung forward easily and quietly.

  The doors opened into a corridor off the main sanctum of the Grand Cathedral. Tammer followed the corridor into the sanctum and saw why exactly it was called the “Grand”. Though the building was a modest height compared to the royal castle, the sanctum was much larger and higher than any one room Tammer had ever seen. The stone walls rose a dozen storeys to meet a polished white ceiling supported by cherry beams, from which hung a chorus of brass bells. The walls themselves were stained black from the smoke left by the peat torches in their sconces; deep shadows graced the corners of the room. The torches provided low notes of a heady tannin scent underneath the spicy incense. The far wall of the sanctum was a mosaic of gold, red sapphire, and pearl in a glittering orb, an artist’s reverential homage to the One Fire.

  The marble floor was so pristine it reflected the ceiling like a pool of water, which made the sanctum feel twice as large. Curved pews fanned out in front of him, lined with elaborate candelabras. They focused on the center of the room. There was a raised dais that had enough space for the priests to stand and give sermons. On the dais was the altar, an obsidian table upon which stood a large flame carved from opal. When all the candles in the sanctum were lit, the reflections danced and waved and made the opal come alive.

  Tammer kissed his thumb and pressed it to his chest as he sat in the first pew, awed by the glory. It was strange, he thought, almost a bit silly to ask guidance of the One Fire here in this lofty structure. As a child, he prayed with his parents and brothers at their humble family shrine, which was little more than a cupboard with a few candles. As a man, he prayed in his room with only his Book of Flame to guide him. Somehow, praying in the Grand Cathedral felt like he was communing with someone else’s god, a stranger that did not know him.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he said. Though he kept his voice low, it echoed through the sanctum. “In the last few days, I feel like my whole life has been...not destroyed, but it seems as though everything I’ve done so far in my life has been made meaningless. I thought joining the Kingsguard was the stepping stone to great things, but instead I’m trapped. It cost me my love. And we train and train and dedicate our lives to protecting the royal family, but from what? What has it all been for? And now there is a real threat, and it killed my friend and someone else. And I’m just so

  A single tear escaped. Tammer took a deep shuddering breath and continued. “I’m angry because Gentren died in a horrible, painful way, and I’m angry that I left him in Linford. He was my best friend, and I shouldn’t have left him behind, but I had my ‘duty.’ I’m angry because I won’t be given a chance to get my revenge on the Abyss - the rangers will get to, but not me or my men. I’m angry because the Kingsguard is just a bunch of men forced to sacrifice their lives and their families and their futures to play soldier with nothing to show for it. Hell, we don’t even get decent pay.”

  He scoffed into his beard. He didn’t notice his nails had pierced his palm. “I was

  to be a captain of the Kingsguard. What an honor, right? To be captain of a platoon where the only action they see each day is the royal family twisting the vice tighter and tighter on our balls.”

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  He relaxed his hand. “I don’t know what the next step is from here,” he said, looking up at the altar. “The games are next week, and if I win, I can ask anything of the king. That is my crossroads. I don’t know what I should do. I could ask that he bring my family here like I had always planned, but that would only save a few weeks. But, do I even want that now? It’d be signing my life away to a man who doesn’t value it. But if I ask for something else, what do I ask for? I don’t know what I want. What should I do?”

  The opal glinted in the low light from the torches. Usually when he prayed for guidance, Tammer felt a warm resolve come over him with an answer. Today, though, he felt nothing. He lowered his head and sighed. Maybe he really was praying to a strange god.

  Soft footsteps whispered over the marble floor. Tammer jumped to his feet, expecting to be shooed away by the newcomer.

  A frail old priest appeared behind the far pews, carrying with him matches to relight any incense that needed it. He spied Tammer and gave him a gapped smile before gesturing for him to sit. Tammer did so and waited, hands clasped together. His feet bounced to a nervous, rapid rhythm.

  His task complete, the priest approached Tammer. “Welcome to this house of light and worship, child,” he said, voice soft as worn parchment.

  “I apologize for just barging in.”

  “It is impossible to barge into the cathedrals of the Eternal Hearth,” the priest said, patting his shoulder. “We are here for all to come and cleanse their souls in the heat of the brilliant Fire. I am Father Lorenze.”

  Tammer bowed his head. “Captain Tammer, second section of the King’s Guard.”

  Father Lorenze’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, what a pleasant surprise!” he said, taking a seat beside him. “It’s rare for us to have one of the guard here. They certainly keep you children busy, don’t they?”

  “They do,” Tammer said, chuckling darkly. “Too busy, I think.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I’m no stickler for decorum, Captain.”

  “No, I mean I shouldn’t have said something so critical of His Majesty. It’s not our duty to judge, only to protect. I’m just lucky that it slipped out within these walls; no way for it to get back to the castle.”

  “What if it had?”

  Tammer puffed out his cheeks. “Best case? Official sanction. I’d keep my rank, but my section wouldn’t see the field for weeks if not months. We’d be stuck on domestic duties.”

  “That’s not so bad,” Father Lorenze said. “They’d be safe there.”

  “They’re already safe, Father,” Tammer said. “A Kingsguard that sees action means Alfreyad is in deep shit. Oh,” he said, shooting a glance at the priest. “I’m sorry.”

  The priest chortled.“The One Fire doesn’t quibble over flavorful language, my boy.” His face darkened, though. “I...did hear about the unfortunate incident in Linford, though. The Kingsugard was involved there, I heard? So it seems the field isn’t as safe as you claim.”

  “That was my section,” Tammer said. Father Lorenze must have heard about the event from Highest Priest Stafford; the king had mentioned that he expected a missive from him. He avoided the priest’s gaze in favor of the opal, still trying to find any answers within its glittering form. “We lost a man. He died yesterday.”

  “Ahhh. That gives me understanding as to why you’re here,” Father Lorenze said, nodding his head sadly. “I am sorry for your loss, and that you should have had an encounter with the Abyss. There are few that come away with souls untroubled after even just a glimpse of the Black Destroyer.” The priest looked suddenly sheepish. “I do beg your forgiveness, but I couldn’t help but to hear the prayers you lifted to the One Fire. I had some dusting to do in the back there, and I have the terrible tendency to step lightly.”

  “Oh,” Tammer said, blushing. “No, that’s fine. Just...I mean, I’m sure you wouldn’t, but please don’t tell anyone? If what I said here made it back to the castle...what I said was borderline treasonous.”

  “Is it really?” Father Lorenze asked. “How is it treason to feel and express one’s heart?”

  “The royal family requires absolute devotion,” Tammer muttered. “If you are not completely devoted in heart and soul, then how can you be expected to do your duty and protect them?”

  Father Lorenze made a face. “I don’t agree with that assessment,” he said mildly. “Devotion must be , not required. Our One Fire earned our love and honor by bringing forth the world and granting us voice and mind and breath to appreciate it all. I see no benefit - for you or for His Highness - in requiring all but giving nothing.”

  “Well, for everything that I gave, I’ve gotten less than nothing in return,” Tammer said, punching his left hand with his right in agitation. “So far, it’s cost me almost everything. I had plans to marry, and being a Kingsguard was supposed to appease her father so that we could, but it got in the way. My inability to act led her to marry someone else. And Gentren’s dead. He was my friend, but he’s dead. But it will be the rangers that avenge that, not me or my men. So in all, I’ve lost my love, my closest friend, and my pride. And at this point, I don’t know if my obedience and strength at arms is worth all that sacrifice.”

  “Only you know what’s in your heart and where your path should lead,” Father Lorenze said. “Despite the king’s methods, he certainly does a good job of protecting our borders, which protects the lives of all. The Eternal Hearth can protect their souls, yes, but how can souls be prepared for the eternal summer beyond if their lives are lost?”

  “I don’t know what’s the right path any more,” Tammer said. “Leaving the Kingsguard is never an option once you sign up. You can’t just quit.”

  Tammer and the priest sat in silence. The aroma of incense had intensified since Father Lorenze had tended to it. “I hear you’re entering the games,” he said, looking serenely at the opal flame. “I also hear that you currently have the best odds at winning.”

  “Do I?”

  “We are open to saints and sinners, Captain,” Father Lorenze said, shrugging. “And every now and then, bookies.”

  Tammer said nothing. He’d been told by many that he would do well, but he had no idea that he was favored to win. It felt rather nice.

  “The Kingsguard is a noble station,” Father Lorenze said. “But, if you were looking for a new path for your soul, we are always open to receiving new disciples.”

  Tammer shot him a look, shocked and confused. The disciples were protegees, students of the Eternal Hearth that set them on a career path to becoming clerics, wandering holy men, or even priests themselves one day. Normally disciples were chosen as young boys, but it wasn’t unheard of for someone much older to have found great piety in faith that they dedicated their lives to the church.

  Father Lorenze had taken to inspecting his fingernails. “His Highness grants the winner of the games a boon of whatever they wish, so long as it is within his power to do so. Last year’s winner, if I remember correctly, requested a lifetime supply of meat pies. The poor soul passed away about a month ago. Heart failure, I think.” Father Lorenze looked at Tammer out of the corner of his eye. “But it is certainly within the king’s power to grant a release from your oaths. We would accept you wholeheartedly. And I do think that you would find the path your heart is searching for.”

  He didn’t give Tammer a chance to respond before he patted his shoulder one last time and stood. “I should be going,” he said. “I have other duties I must see to. But it was a delight meeting you, Captain.”

  “...And you, Father.”

  Then the old man shuffled off, humming a hymn to himself, shuffling the matches into a more comfortable position.