Thief's Covenant (A Widdershins Adventure) Read Online Free Page A

greatest. In other cities, he probably stands as the patron of only a single guild, or a bloodline—just as, for instance…” She cast about for a moment. “As Banin is the patron of two or three of Davillon's noble houses, but elsewhere, he might be the patron of a great guild, or even an entire city.”
    The girl nodded slowly as though she understood, though Sister Cateline doubted that was the case. The nun had just begun to turn away, when—
    “Can I ask one more question?”
    Cateline repressed a sigh. “One more. Then you need to eat your supper.”
    “If Davillon has so many gods, how come not one of them got off his butt and saved my mommy and daddy?!”
    Sister Cateline actually fell back a step, hand raised to her lips. A whisper of astonishment swept through the other children, but here and there, the nun was certain she heard a mutter of angry agreement from among the worst of the hard-luck cases.
    Well, it was positively past time to nip this in the bud!
    “Young lady, that is not an appropriate way to speak of the gods!”
    “When they explain themselves to me, I'll apologize.”
    The nun had the girl by the wrist and was dragging her out the door before the second round of shocked gasps—and supportive murmurs—had finished making the rounds of the hall. “We're going to have to teach you some manners and respect, child!”
    “Stop calling me child !” the girl spat, not even bothering to try to pull away as she was hauled off to gods-knew-where. “My name is Adrienne.”

     
    Adrienne did not , as it happened, learn either manners or respect from Sister Cateline, or any of the other nuns either. Despite the chains, the locks, the heavy doors, and the fact that she frankly had nowhere better to go, she was gone from the convent after only a few days—before the welts of her lashing had even fully faded.
    Sister Cateline wasn't truly sorry to see her go. That one, she was certain, would have been nothing but trouble.

 
    NOW :
     
    It was, all of it, enormous. The Doumerge property was enormous, the manor at its center was enormous, and the ballroom deep within that house was—no surprise, by now—enormous.
    And the chaos within, slipping further out of control by the minute, was rapidly becoming enormous as well.
    A cluster of musicians sat upon a raised platform off in one corner, isolated from everyone they were hired to entertain. Furiously they played, lobbing their music into the crowd like arrows, reproducing some of the most popular tunes currently making the rounds of courts and noble soirees throughout Galice. Their outfits—the musicians, that is, not the pieces of music, though those too were arguably gussied up and overdressed—were lavish fabrics in a hypnotic mishmash of garish colors. Tunics and vests hung haphazardly; wigs sat askance atop sweaty heads; abused fingers ached in protest. For five hours they'd played, with never more than a few minutes between songs, and the torment didn't promise an end anytime soon.
    For all that their music accomplished, they might well not have bothered. The ballroom, packed so full that dancing required advanced planning and possibly tactical diagrams, hovered at a volume just shy of tectonic movement. Every voice was a bellow, each and every speaker struggling to be heard over every other. The music, to them, was nothing more than extraneous noise, an obstacle to be shouted over.
    The table was long, and laden with a quantity of food not merely sufficient to choke a large elephant, but also to bury its remains. Every variety of animal, it seemed, could be found at some spot along that buffet, smothered in sauce or breading or dressing or gods alone knew what. Beef, venison, fowl of every possible variety, at least a dozen types of fish, eggs of both fish and fowl, escargot, every vegetable known to man—it was all here, and no matter how much the guests ate, a criminal amount of food would go to waste. The smell alone was heavy enough