Master (Book 5) by Robert J. Crane Read Free Book Online

his chair just to Cyrus’s right in the Council Chambers, a sullen look marring his handsome features, “because that surely won’t have any long-term negative consequences. You know, again.”
    “Agreed,” Vaste said, just beyond Longwell, deep voice ringing through the Council Chamber. “This time it will surely be a rollicking, fun occasion, filled with rainbows, roast mutton, and perhaps—if we are very lucky—delicious pie.”
    Cyrus looked around the chamber. It had been a few days, and the consumptive illness that had been feared for him had not manifested. He considered that fortunate but chafed under Arydni’s ministrations and had been relieved when she had pronounced him healthy enough leave her care and present her offer to the Council. He was also pleased to be back in his armor with Praelior at his side. Being without a sword for days is an unpleasant business for a warrior of Bellarum.
    The round table felt surprisingly empty, as it had for months. Curatio and Vara sat in chairs flanking Alaric’s high-backed, empty seat. J’anda was to Curatio’s right, followed by Ryin, then Terian’s old chair, also empty. Erith sat just to the other side of that, next to Cyrus. Her face looked blank, disinterested in the discussion at hand.
    “Arydni promised payment if we can discover the whereabouts of the Goddess,” Cyrus said, looking to Longwell. “Gold is gold, and it could help our people.”
    “Aye,” Longwell said after a moment’s pause, his harsh look softening slightly, “it could at that.” The young former King was prone to fits of moodiness of late, his visage habitually much darker than it had been before the Luukessia nightmare. I don’t expect I’d be handling it quite so well if it were me , Cyrus thought.
    “The Goddess of Life being missing is more than a simple mercenary job,” Vara said. “At least for some of us.”
    “Are we always going to take money for our services from now on?” Ryin asked, looking more than a little weary himself. “I had thought hiring ourselves out was to be a one-time-only thing. At least that was how it was proposed when we undertook the Prehorta assault—”
    “Which you voted against, if I recall,” Vaste said.
    “Not because I disagreed with the ends,” Ryin said, clearly irritated, “but because I dislike the thought of hiring Sanctuary out as a mercenary company. We are a guild of adventurers, and if we believed that strongly in their aims, we should have done the job for free.”
    “Like we did in Termina?” Vaste asked, looking innocently at the druid. “Because I believe you vetoed our involvement in that as well.”
    “I simply do not wish to see us traverse the road of losing our identity as a guild of adventurers because we have become focused on gold to the exclusion of all else,” Ryin said. “Do any of you care for the idea of becoming a regular army in the service of the Human Confederation, for example?”
    “So we come back to this again,” J’anda said, wearing his aged dark elven features for the Council meeting. “I accept that we have principles, but I also recognize that we have a rather large obligation to the refugees of Luukessia. Accepting jobs which carry monetary reward does not seem out of line. It seems practical.”
    “And they will continue to seem reasonable as we take step after step away from our original mission, which was to be a guild of adventurers, not soldiers for a particular religious group or nations,” Ryin said. “This missing goddess is not our problem.”
    “Except for those of us who actually worship her,” Vara said, her cheeks flushed red. She rarely said anything in Council anymore. Clearly a banner day for her .
    “As a guild, Sanctuary is religiously neutral,” Ryin said, avoiding Vara’s gaze. “We have believers of all religions here—”
    “Except for the God of Death, for some bizarre reason,” Vaste said. “No one seems to believe in him anymore. Not sure