Chapter 31. The Adept

t was the morning of the Imperial Guild Census and the Crystal Palm compound was a hive of activity.  Armor worn only for ceremonial occasions came out of storage and insignia of fame and accomplishment were dusted off and put on display.  Zhou sat at the upper table in the great hall surveying his officers and members in his now familiar tunic of red scales over black breeches and boots.  He looked regal that morning, walking confidently among the gathering throng as banners were unfurled and gonfalons set.

Pendaran felt out of place.  He was not truly an adventurer as so many of the guild membership were.  He was decidedly infamous in Tyria and anonymous in Cantha.  When Teleri had helped him dress that morning, he had chosen the most inconspicuous colors available and now stood near the edge of the gathering in drab brown and muted blue, his clothes loose and mildly unflattering.  Nothing available fit him now.  He was either too thin or the clothes too binding in the wrong places so that they pressed too tightly over his injuries.

His cane was a constant companion as he limped with as much dignity as he could muster.  For the most part, he could endure without Lemony’s enchantments if he maintained his concentration upon a simple mantra that helped prevent him from dwelling upon the constant background pain that was now his lot in life.  Pendaran was cheered by this, it meant he was getting better at last and soon his life might resemble something normal and reasonably peaceful.  He was looking forward to a quiet winter with books and gentle lessons in legerdemain.  Smiling at Mabane beside him, he was glad the difficult lessons were still many years off.  Hopefully by then Pendaran would himself have learned more from Zhou.  It was a comfort to think of the three of them growing together as mesmers.  He was grateful not to be alone in the world any more.

The gathering grew quieter and more organized as guild members fell into file.  A core of five officers faced the wide door leading out into the misty courtyard.  Shikai was at their lead bearing a gleaming white prismatic gonfalon emblazoned with an open palm.  There were characters sewn below the emblem and he assumed they pronounced the name of the guild.  He would ask Zhou later.  He recognized the assassin, Ming, wild-eyed Kazuma and Mashiro the elementalist assembling behind her.  The fifth officer he did not know, but he had the appearance of a monk, bald and humble in his pale garb stark against his ebon skin.  A line of five warriors fell into place behind them in highly polished armor of overlapping scales that shimmered and rustled.  Pale guild capes gleamed amid a blaze of colors as elementalists, necromancers, ritualists and mesmers filled the center ranks followed by more warriors, rangers and monks.  A handful of young assassins fell into place amid the casters until the four score members of the guild.

Pendaran glanced down at Mabane.  His sweet face was filled with wonder at the sight of Crystal Palm’s might and beauty.  Absently, the boy reached for Pendaran’s hand the same way he reached for Teleri’s hand when he needed reassurance.

“Are you going with them, Master?”

“Yes, my son.”

“Will you be alright?”

“I will be fine, Mabane, there is no need to worry about me.  What can harm me with so mighty a guild gathered around me?  And I will be with my master.”

“I want to come with you.”

“I wish you could.  Maybe next year.  I hear your mother is going to take you to the market today.”

“I’d rather be with you.”

“Will you get something for me?”

Mabane gazed eagerly up into his face, so earnest in his desire to please.  It troubled Pendaran that the boy was so vulnerable.  Mabane nodded eagerly.

“Ask your mother to help you find five silk kerchiefs about so big.  Five colors and I want you to pick them.  Here are some coins.”

“What are they for, Master?” Mabane asked as he took the coin pouch.

He smiled and ruffled the boy’s raven tresses.

“You will find out tomorrow.  Now run along, my son.  I must go.”

Mabane surprised him by embracing him before running away looking mildly embarrassed.  The boy needed a father more than a master and Pendaran felt humbled by his inadequacy for the job. 

“Master Caradec, why are you dressed like a scullery boy?” Zhou asked, moving toward him with a gleaming black staff in hand.

“It is the best I can do for now, Master.”

“You are my Adept.  Where are the robes I had delivered to your room?”

Pendaran swallowed, then laughed as Zhou stared speechless at Brigit and Lemony rushing toward them under a mound of folded up silks.  The monk was herself clad in the finest Canthan robes of sky blue embroidered with patterns of dragons and mysterious characters.  A white Crystal Palm cape fluttered at her shoulders.  Brigit’s old Ascalonian brigandine gleamed under a layer of fresh oil over its leathers and a high sheen where the metal had been polished. 

“I’m so sorry,” the monk blurted, breathlessly, “I forgot to get them to him this morning.  Brigit detained me.”

“You may not join the procession,” Zhou said to the warrioress as Lemony set the robes on a nearby chair.

“Yes I am,” Brigit said boldly, “I vowed to Teleri that he would never be without my protection and that vow stands.”

Pendaran fought his urge to laugh as Zhou pursed his lips in annoyance.

“You are not of my guild.  By Imperial decree, only members whose names appear on the roster may join the procession.”

“Put my name on the roster then, I’m going.”

“Off with the jacket, Pen.  Come on,” Lemony demanded, fussing over him as he slowly peeled his outer layer of clothes off while trying to avoid falling over now that his cane was set aside.  He grinned to himself, deciding that Brigit was possibly the only one of them that Zhou might capitulate to.  She had saved the man’s life, after all, and when it came to stubborn determination; his master had met his match.

“I will make you an honorary member for today,” Zhou grumbled, “but I will have you know, he is well warded and your presence is not necessary.”

“I’ve warded Pen before.  He’s more trouble than he looks.”

“He will have a Canthan name to reflect that soon, I assure you,” Zhou laughed.  Pendaran quirked an eyebrow as the two of them shared a private joke at his expense.  He might have protested were it not for the effort of getting dressed.  There was  a long silvery gown of silk followed by a long black robe with red edges held closed by three turns of a matching sash.  Lemony was careful not to bind his belly too tightly and shooed away the servants who came to take over.  Over this flowed a smoky gray robe embroidered with circular glyphs that faintly resembled Canthan characters.

“What do they say?” he whispered to Lemony and she shrugged.

“I haven’t a clue. I wonder how many buttons there,” she murmured as she fastened the stiff collar around his throat and began working her way down the front of his breast.

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Wait until you see the hat.  Zhou went all out.”

“I don’t wear hats.”

Lemony giggled as she held the thing out to him.  It was black and flowed down over his cheeks and nape and came to a point on either side of his ears so that he imagined he looked like a cat.  The effect was not improved by the pheasant feathers standing up at the back of his head.  One day he would get even with Zhou for this.

Brigit snorted at the sight of him then burst out laughing with Lemony cackling breathlessly beside her.  Pendaran burned with embarrassment, sneaking a glance at Zhou and noticing the corners of his lips were just slightly turned upward in amusement. 

“Do I have to wear this hat?” he grumbled, seizing his cane from Lemony and resting his weight on it

“It tells all who look upon you that you are my favored student.”

“And a complete ninny,” giggled Brigit.  Pendaran glared at her then resolved to ignore her.

“You’re announcing this to the world because?”

“I have never accepted a student.  Now that I have one, I need never take another.”

“Has no one ever asked?”

Zhou smiled grimly and received a white guild cape from a servant.  He unfurled it proudly.

“Close to a hundred have asked, but I drive them away after the first request.  I do have a choice in the matter,” Zhou replied, then, holding out the cape, “You cannot kneel, thus lower your head.  Wear this cape with honor.”

“He was the best student of the lot?  Who’d have thought?” Brigit snickered.

“You will not insult me or my Adept, Mistress Gaenor.”

Chastened, Brigit blushed.

“Sorry, Master Bei.”

Pendaran presented a respectful bow as Zhou pinned it in place.  For a night he would belong to a guild for the first time.

“You will walk two paces behind me and you are not to look upon the Emperor.  Keep your head lowered in his presence since you cannot bow or kneel.  Your condition will be made known to him.  Lemony and Brigit may stand behind the first rank of warriors.  You will be well within reach of her enchantments and prayers should you need them.”

“I go at his side!” Brigit complained.

“No,” Zhou said coldly, “You wear the cape of my guild and you will do as I ask.  I have indulged your insolence for the last time.”

Brigit flushed as she was brought up short by the steel of Bei Zhou An’s will.  She bowed and averted her gaze.

“Let us go.”

Pendaran followed Zhou to the head of the procession aware of four score eyes upon him as he limped into place, his elaborate robes hissing softly with each step.  The slow march to Raisu had begun.