Arine's Sanctuary Read Online Free Page A

bustled about the cobblestone paths. Arine stayed back, letting Cavon take it all in.
                  After a minute or two, she broke the silence. “I need to report to my Mistress. Go with these women and they’ll take you someplace you can rest and clean up.”
                  Anxiety crossed his face.
                  “Don’t worry, Cavon. All will be well,” she reassured him. Turning on her heel, Arine began her descent down to the city below.
                  She strode purposefully through the busy streets, acknowledging the occasional greeting with a nod. Few ever tried to stop her. They knew what she had to do when she returned.
                  “About time you got back.” The snide voice stopped Arine in midstep.
                  Whirling, she leveled a withering gaze at the man who spoke. “My comings and goings are of no concern to you, James, or the one you serve.” Her blue eyes, filled with contempt, locked with black ones. A hint of fear showed on his face as she took a step closer. “Unless you care to explain to Mistress Bryn why you felt it necessary that I report to you before her, I suggest you crawl back into whatever hole Talia found you in and waylay me no more.” Her tone was quiet, but firm.
                  She watched him swallow hard as he struggled to regain his composure. His hand shook slightly as he pushed back his stringy brown hair. “The Lady Talia suggests you watch yourself, Lady Arine. You won’t hold your place as Mistress Bryn’s favorite for long.”
                  Snorting in disgust, Arine gave James a withering look. “Tell your Lady that I keep my position because I do my job better than she does. If she’d do as she was told and not try to collect a stable for herself, I might be concerned.” Before James could reply, she turned and continued down the street.
                  Her destination finally emerged as she rounded a corner. She pulled on the bell rope harder than normal; irritation at James’ brash manner made her want to spit. Judging from the startled expression of the woman who opened the door, she hadn’t concealed it well.
                  The familiar space calmed her as she followed the woman toward Mistress Bryn’s inner office. The plaster walls were decorated with an eclectic collection of paintings, some better than others. Oddly matched furniture sat in various rooms, all functional if not aesthetically pleasing. Mistress Bryn was often given gifts by those who had come to Sanctuary after learning a trade. While not always tasteful, she accepted them all with a graciousness that made the maker feel special.
                  The corridor ended at a pair of double doors. The fabric covering the panels had faded over the years, becoming threadbare in places. Yet it remained, as it was another gift from a new arrival. Arine shoved the encounter with James from her mind and smiled at the memory of how Mistress Bryn accepted her gift with glee. It was not long after that day, however, that the weaver told Arine she was to learn a completely different art.
                  She rapped lightly on the door, framing her report in her mind.
                  “Come in, Arine,” Mistress Bryn’s melodic voice beckoned her.
                  Placing a slender hand on the brass handle, she pressed downward with a slight amount of force. The handle had a tendency to stick. The door shuddered slightly before giving her admittance.
                  Mistress Bryn sat at her desk, her blonde head bent over a sheaf of paper. Arine knew to wait for her to finish. Interruptions were a pet peeve in this office. Silently, she slid into a chair across from the ornately carved wood desk and waited.
                  “You are late. I expected you a day or two ago.” Mistress Bryn kept