Free Handmaiden's Fury by JM Guillen Page A

Gryn’s shadows and exotic
scents lay behind me.
     

 
     
12
     
    Sire Mattias had been very specific
when he gave me the street and number. Though somewhat distant, I must not take
a fare-carriage all of the way to the villa he had rented. Our safety rested on
our secrecy. None must know of our meeting place.
    There we would prepare.
    He had selected a villa isolated
along the distant northern wall. If we made ready at the House of Pleasure,
then stocks would show that he requisitioned the reagents for our ritual and
other Handmaidens would certainly hear my cries as he wove our workings. None
must know of our preparations.
    I had never seen the villa before
this day. When I did, I’ll admit that I was pleased.
    It was beautiful. It was artistic and
old, with climbing vines and scarab roses all along the whitewashed wall. The
roof of midnight-black shingles had several small chimneys peeking up. Stained
windows faced the garden, great multicolored things that caught the light and
sent it dancing. The pathways through the garden were bordered with low, stone
walls, and each garden section was unique, filled with dizzying fragrance and
bursts of wild color.
    Though Sire Mattias obviously
selected this villa to meet his stringent requirements, part of my secret heart
could not help but feel proud that my Sire had gone to such extravagance. Yes,
I knew that it wasn’t about me—my Sire would never show me that kind of special
favor—but I found it difficult to look at the stately house and not feel giddy.
Like a secret retreat, we rendezvoused in such a lovely place.
    Still three stories of ivy-covered
stone seemed extravagant for our purposes, better suited to families who had
traveled to our port city. Oftentimes, a well-to-do merchant might sail from
Caed or the Empire and needed to stay for a hand of days while setting up his
operations. In that instance, a villa such as this one was perfect for his
needs.
    Beyond the gate, I noted a pond with
shallow stone steps leading toward the house while several flowerbeds of
vibrant, dancing blossoms surrounded a water fountain. Next to the water, a
small patio boasted a freestanding hearth, surrounded by pillars of squared-off
stone. They supported thick wooden beams that formed a rough roof.
    After taking a moment to make certain
that no one followed, I went to the gate, unlocked, as I knew it would be. I
turned the wrought iron handle and slipped inside, with one last furtive glance
at the street outside.
    Whoever owned the house obviously had
masterful gardeners in their employ. The garden hosted a cascade of
winterbloom, orris, and more varieties of rose than I had ever seen in one
place. The color ran riot, and the scent was heavy. I could almost taste the
sweetness on the wind.
    I drifted through the garden,
stopping at a singing fountain here, a graceful statue of a dancer there. In
this wonderful place, high hedges and stone walls cleverly hid secrets around
every bend. Walking toward the house, every turn brought a new smile to my
face, and I longed for the time to explore the grounds more thoroughly.
    But I was here with purpose.
    I stepped up the stone stairwell
toward the house, my mind already casting ahead to my evening. Hours of rituals,
I was certain. Just the fact that Sire Mattias chose the ignis vitae meant
that—
    Brys opened the door.
    I stood, stunned. No one was to know
of this place. What was he doing here?
    “Come in, Handmaiden.” His baritone
resonated pleasantly. “We have to attend to many preparations.”
    I stepped into the foyer, still
shocked. “Brys, why are you—?”
    “Sire Mattias said you did not know.”
The slender man shrugged. “Needing extensive preparations completed in a very
short time, he trusted my discretion.”
    I gave Brys a long look. “But if the
Headmaiden questions you—?”
    He offered a reassuring smile. “Sire
Mattias assures me that if the Headmaiden has reason to question, she will have
questioned the two