Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

The great squid rose above, tentacles twisting.

Servius had a cramping calf. He reached back to try and massage it out. His mother reached over mid-stretch and slapped his hand away.

“Look,” she gritted out, “noble.”

“There’s no one else in here except us and Mrs. Ferrers.” He wasn’t whining. He was stating his opinion in a…. complaining... tone. Servius leaned forward, trying to stretch the cramp out of his calf. He hated this temple. It was so boring. So echoey. There weren’t even any good snacks. There was a big festival going on, right across the river, and every kid in the world got to go to it. Except for him! Sometimes the world was completely unfair.

“We’re having an important discussion, Servius. Be a good boy and pray.”

Servius sniffed and leaned back down, staring at the tentacles again. He missed having adventures already. Even if they were stinky, and had weird food, and too many knives, he could scratch himself when he wanted and run instead of walk.

He glanced over. His mother was leaning in to talk to Mrs. Ferrers again. She looked distracted.

“What do you mean, she’s not here? I’d like to speak about our time in school. Reminisce. I barely saw her at your little get-together.”

“She keeps her own confidence,” said Mrs. Ferrers. “Gods below know I could never keep her in check. At least your boy stays at home.”

“…yes,” said his mother. “Servius is just so… obedient.” She glanced over at Servius. He pulled his hand back from where he was going to scratch the back of his neck. “Just like his father,” she finished.

“You’re thinking of sending him to school?”

“I couldn’t. He’s just so darling.” Servius frowned at the floor. “Besides, I want to supervise his education myself.”

“Of course. Who knows what they teach at those schools? Sometimes I wonder if that’s where Elysia got it all...”

“You know,” said his mother. “I heard your coach isn’t in the stables.”

“Ah. Well, sometimes these things happen. Perhaps it’s out for service. I don’t pay attention to the calendar like that.”

“We use the same coach carpenter. He’s busy today. With mine. I was going to ask to borrow yours, as it happens.”

Servius turned his neck, ever-so-slightly. Mrs. Ferrers had turned away, looking up towards the statue of Teuthida. “I don’t think it’s any of your business what Elysia and I agree to,” she said. “Some things are family business.”

“So you agree it’s to your mutual benefit.”

“I offered to work with you. You rejected me!”

“I rejected the offer for this exact reason, Valeria. You always go forward with these bold, poorly-considered plans. I suppose you invited her to the city and decided you would just throw her at the Spire as soon as you could manage it.”

“Elysia is clever enough to find a way in. Soon you’ll regret everything you said to me.”

“We’ll see about that. The Baron is hardly a warm and loving man in the best of cases.”

They were going to the Spire? Servius was stuck here, with his mother, while Duran was breaking and entering? He clenched his fists on the marble. Some people had all the luck.

“It’s not about warmth. The Baron understands a good deal when it's offered to him.”

“I suppose we’ll see,” said his mother. She stood. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re going to go and try to stop her?”

His mother laughed. “What? No. She’ll stop herself well enough. I’m going to go sit on my balcony, enjoy a nice drink, and wait to watch the Beetle’s flight at dawn. Good day, Valeria. Nice to pray with you.”

“Good day to you, as well,” said Mrs. Ferrers. Servius sprung up as soon as his mother turned to him, working out the cramp in his calf. His mother opened the door to the Temple, light pouring in. It was a warm day. The sun was beginning to crest in the sky. They only had a few hours until nightfall, the end of the festival.

Servius had only been back with his mother for a day, and he was already sick of it. Cornelia was waiting outside, eyes fixed upon him. His guard. She smiled at him. “Well, young man. Are you ready to go home?”

The key, he decided, was to be unpredictable.

“Yes,” he said. Then he turned around and sprinted back into the temple. Mrs. Ferrers shrieked in panic as he ducked past her, nearly knocking her over. Cornelia had begun sprinting, faster than he was. As she reached down for him, he threw himself to the floor, throwing himself in between her legs and flapping through her skirts.

Knees aching from scraping them on the marble, he shoved himself up and grabbed for the great statue of Teuthida.

“Servius! Don’t you dare!”

“You don’t tell me what to do!”

He pushed on the secret button at last, with a scraping noise. He watched the secret passage open as his mother launched towards him, skirts gathered in one hand.

“Doesn’t seem very obedient,” said Mrs. Ferrers. She was the only one not moving. She had a hand up over her mouth, holding a smile.

The passage was still half-open. Servius ducked as his mother grabbed for his collar, then swayed to the side as she tried to grab his hair. One more moment; the passage scraped open even wider.

He threw himself into the darkness as his mother finally grabbed his tunic. He felt it slip out of her fingers as his heart raced.

Free. He was finally free.

“I will find you, Servius! I know where you’re going!”

“You don’t know me!”

“I’m your mother! Of course I know you!”

He turned around just long enough to blow a raspberry. Bad idea; his mother was already rushing down the steps. Servius glanced once more at Mrs. Ferrers, who was bent over with laughter above. Beyond her, Cornelia was still prone on the floor.

His mother launched towards him, hands out. He turned on his heel and scampered into the darkness.

He’d seen enough of this. It was time for him to have a real adventure.