Midnight Quest Page 11

  With the late night arrival, Chizeld had been forced to find an inn as the Order would have the gates locked at that hour. But first thing in the morning, the armsman had risen, eaten a hastily prepared breakfast, and gone straight for the Temple of Elahandra. The Temple looked more like an Order building really, as it stood two stories tall and branched out in an L shape, with a strong wall of stone surrounding it. Well, the difference in architecture made sense considering how far north—and how close to the Daath—this city stood. Chizeld paid it no mind and just knocked on the outer door.

  “Hello!” he called out. “Chizeld Lorin, Sanhan of the Red Guard is here!”

  The door abruptly opened, almost jerked aside at full force. Chizeld blinked to see the woman standing there, who had to be a priestess with that necklace of interlocking circles on her neck, but…the male trousers, riding boots, and tight shirt all said warrior not priestess. The lethal glare in those dark eyes also had Chizeld’s survival instincts blaring for a retreat. Just who…was this woman?

  Chizeld was beyond tired, feeling sixty years old instead of thirty. Dark red and white uniform looked brown because of the multiple layers of travel dust coating it. The feel of the same grime coated skin and fair hair, sticking unpleasantly. To anyone that asked, Chizeld could easily admit didn’t look the best just then.

  That didn’t mean that the hostile, suspicious glare from this woman was deserved.

  In a very thick northern accent, the Ramathan asked, “Who did you say you are?”

  Not sure if it would be wiser to draw the sword, or run, Chizeld bravely answered, “Chizeld Lorin, Sanhan of the Red Guard. Looking for High Priestess Jewel Jomadd.”

  “Hooo.” The woman crossed both arms over a rather impressively muscled chest and gave him a stare that would squash a lesser man like a bug. “So you’re one of the eijits that let that poor girl suffer as she did, eh?”

  Erk. How to respond to that…?

  “I see Elahandra’s mantle on you,” the woman continued, a tic at the corner of the mouth, “but I willna send such a careless man to the lass. She’s a sweet one, she is, and better deserving. My friend is with her, protecting her, and he’ll do a better job than the likes of you. Go home.”

  The door slammed shut again. Chizeld stared at it in absolute frustration. Did the woman not consider that if a Verisan guardsman had come all the way here, Elahandra must be behind it? It was somewhat tempting to start banging on that door and demand some answers, but…no. That woman would likely respond by gutting Chizeld. And still not answer the question either, curse it. Shards.

  Alright, change of plans. That stubborn woman had known Jewel without Chizeld having to explain, so obviously Priestess had made it here. If that was the case, then surely other people in this town would have an idea of where the woman went next.

  Determined, Chizeld turned around and headed back into the city proper, asking anyone that crossed paths about Jewel. No one wanted to talk, everyone had that suspicious look when speaking, but the armsman stubbornly stuck with it.

  Now here the guardsman stood, in one of the main courtyards of Denzbane, facing a veritable mob of suspicious Ramathans. The solid wall in front of Chizeld had been formed by every possible gender, age, and occupation. From baker to housewife to toddler, they all gave the exact same narrow-eyed look. All from an innocent query: has Priestess Jomadd been here?

  A middle-aged man that had the arms of a blacksmith and the ruddy complexion of a drunkard eyed Chizeld from head to toe and back again. “And who might you be, asking such a thing.”

  Chizeld took in a deep breath for patience. “Chizeld Lorin, Sanhan of the Red Guard. Sworn to Priestess Jomadd’s protection. Searching for nearly two weeks—” although it felt like two years “—and told was coming here, to Ramath. Came?”

  This openness did not win any sort of a response. The people all looked at each other silently, eyes saying a hundred words that Chizeld could not decipher. The pent-up frustration rose to another level. What was these people’s problem?

  “So. You’re the one who left her to rot in that dungeon, eh?”

  Chizeld blinked. Dungeon? Elahandra didn’t mention a dungeon. By me by, what was this? What had happened while Guard was separated from Priestess? Still, for this information to be known, Priestess had to have been here, or could be here still. Hope rose at this last thought.

  “Do not know about dungeon,” Chizeld answered honestly. “Elahandra said that Priestess in trouble and need to go, so came.”

  “You do no know about the dungeon, eh?” The man leaned in at a menacing angle, nostrils flaring with anger. “Well, I’ll tell you.”

  Chizeld listened with a sinking heart as the full story was laid out. Never could the guardsman have imagined that the priestess would be put into such danger. Commander’s orders to go back to homeland had been suspicious, certainly, and Chizeld had fought against it. But this…this was far worse than imagined. Chizeld raised a hand and pinched the bridge of nose, hard, anger and regret forming a knot in the chest. Never should have obeyed those orders.

  The tale was not told in a few minutes. The townspeople would not let it rest with a concise summary. Chizeld was dragged over to the other hill so that the newly restored crystal could be shown off. The story of how Priestess dragged it uphill alone was told with much enthusiasm from several different people. Chizeld, standing in the crystal’s shadow, could not fathom how anyone could do that alone. There were stories passed down among the Guard of a priestess moving a crystal alone, but still… Priestess Jomadd must be a very large, strong woman to grapple with that and win.

  Story of Priestess’s stay was also told with much delight, everyone chipping in with parts of the tale. As Chizeld patiently listened, the people lost some of the anger and outrage, softening slightly. By the time afternoon came and went, some were willing to concede that Chizeld was honestly concerned about the girl’s welfare and that perhaps the guardsman could be trusted.

  No one answered the most important question, however: where was Priestess?

  Chizeld was beginning to think that only a divine visit from Elahandra would make people talk when one of the city councilmen approached. Broeske Axheimer asked a few questions, validating Chizeld’s identity and mission, and then stated in plain terms, “Priestess Jomadd left early this morning, she did, with Rialt and Sarvell. She said they be heading south, towards Bryn. Hunting for crystals, she be.”

  Frustration and relief mixed in equal amounts. Finally had the answer, but…once again hours behind. Would Chizeld ever be able to catch up?

  ~*~*~*~

  By the time they stopped that night at an inn, Jewel’s head spun from exhaustion. She hadn’t really traveled much in her lifetime, not venturing farther than the outskirts of Belthain, and so hadn’t realized just how mentally taxing the constant change of environment could be. Her senses were constantly straining, trying to find something familiar, only to be confronted with things that she couldn’t label.

  When they stopped at an inn just at sunset, Jewel had a mantra running through her head of hot meal, soft bed, hot meal, soft bed. The hope for a quiet meal was dashed when a door swung open directly in front of her, letting loose a barrage of overlapping voices. The twinges at her temples developed into an outright throb at the volume.

  “Seems a mite lively,” Rialt noted as his hands spanned her waist, lifting her off the horse.

  “Rialt, you think it’s safe enough to not try a disguise?” Sarvell asked as he reached up and took her from Rialt’s arms. She reached out and braced herself against his shoulders as she was gently set to earth.

  “Eh, certainly,” Rialt assured with an amused timber to his tone. “No Ramathan would answer any question from a Thornock soldier. Matter of principal, it be. No one be looking for us here.”

  While relieved that she could walk around after a full day of riding, Jewel in no way wanted to brave the crowd she could hear in the inn’s main taproom. Traveling around
like this exhausted her. Trying to deal with a press of bodies in a place she did not know at all, well, it filled her stomach with dread.

  “Er…maybe it’s safer for me to take a tray in my room.”

  Rialt’s hand patted her lightly on the shoulder. “Do no worry. We will make sure no one runs you over.”

  That’s only part of the problem…oh, never mind. She smiled wanly. “I appreciate that.”

  “I’ll take care of the horses and bring the bags up,” Sarvell volunteered. “If you two will get us some rooms and dinner.”

  “Sure thing,” Rialt agreed as he dismounted.

  Jewel hugged Rialt’s arm tightly as he led her toward that din of chaotic noise. He must have sensed her anxiety as he placed his hand over both of hers and squeezed once in a comforting gesture. The sound of metal hinges squeaked a bit as the door moved and then she could hear nothing but a multitude of voices, loud laughter, and snatches of a musical trio.

  Jewel lost most of the exchange when Rialt called out to the innkeeper and made arrangements for a night’s lodgings. In self-defense, she tried to tune out all of the noise around her, focusing on just going wherever Rialt led.

  “—el? Jewel, lass?”

  Startled, she jerked her head up. “Yes?”

  Rialt’s voice was heavy with concern. “Be you alright?”

  “There’s too much noise in here,” she admitted, pressing one hand to her ear. “It’s overwhelming.”

  “Then we best take you up to the room,” he responded instantly. “I will get you that tray you wanted instead, eh?”

  She nearly melted in relief. “Yes, thank you.”

  Rialt turned, guiding her more toward the left of the door. Jewel tried to keep up with him, but people kept bumping into her from different angles and now and again something would suddenly trip her up. The second time she staggered into Rialt, he stopped dead with a low growl of frustration.

  “Ridiculous, this be. Here.”

  Jewel emitted a half-strangled shriek when she abruptly left the ground and swung up into the air, fetching against a hard chest she knew well. “Rialt, what did I tell you about warning me beforehand?!”

  “Sorry, lass, had to act quick,” Rialt apologized, disgruntled. “A drunkard nearly plowed right into you.”

  “Oh. Ah, then thank you.”

  “Crowd’s worse than we thought it would be,” Rialt said although this time it sounded more as if he were muttering to himself. “Stairs be nearby, so just bide.”

  She grabbed his jacket lapel with both hands as an anchor of sorts as he shoved his way through the press of bodies. Jewel could feel people brushing against her legs and shoulders as they moved. Then, all at once, she could feel empty space all around them. The sound of Rialt’s boots changed from a solid thud to one with a hollow after-tone. Stairs, judging by the sound. She let out a huff of relief as the crowd fell behind them.

  Rialt paused and bent to put her gently back on her feet, although he kept an arm around her waist. “Here you be. Sarvell and I have the room next to this, I made sure of that.”

  “Good.” Jewel reached out until she felt the cool metal of the door knob and then pushed open the door. “What’s in here?”

  “A bed on your far right, washstand inside the doorway, and a small table with a chair to the left of the window.” Rialt led her inside as he spoke, guiding her hand to touch each piece of furniture. “Bide a while, and I will fetch us supper.”

  “I will.” She waited for the door to shut behind him before letting out a long sigh. Thank the vast heavens this day was coming to an end! Jewel felt sure that if she had to deal with anything else right at this moment, she’d simply collapse. When Elahandra had given her this task, she had not imagined how difficult simply traveling would be.

  Still, she had taken the task on, and she wouldn’t start complaining about it now. Drawing upon her resolve, she took off her cloak and shoes, setting them carefully at the end of the bed, and then went to the washstand to wipe away some of the dust of the road.

  Rialt and Sarvell both popped in on her, one bearing a supper tray and the other her saddlebags. She could hear in their voices their concern for her, but she put on a brave front and shooed them off to bed. Nothing they could do would make any of this easier for her. She’d simply have to pluck up her determination and keep going, that was all.

  If a few tears of frustration and exhaustion leaked from her eyes that night, well, no one was around to notice but her.

  ~*~*~*~

  Hmmmm…so…warm. And fuzzy. Although something wet kept tickling her palm. Jewel twitched her hand away, but a moment later, that wet, rough thing touched her skin again. Annoyed by these odd sensations that rudely interrupted a nice sleep, she sat up a little and tried to roll over…only to come to an abrupt stop inches later.

  Wait. That warm, fuzzy thing pressing against her seemed quite solid. Not part of a dream, then?

  Cautiously, she reached out a hand and laid it against the warm bulk pressed against her. The furry texture against her skin was definitely not part of a dream. So, if not a dream, then…what was it?

  Trying not to panic, she raised her voice in something that wasn’t quite a shout. “Sarvell! Rialt!”

  At her voice, the furry creature shifted closer and started sniffing against her hair. Jewel emitted a strangled shriek, not sure whether to bolt for the door or play dead.

  From next door, there was the sound of something heavy hitting the floorboards, then a door being yanked open, more footsteps, until her own door was flung wide with a crash. “Jewel, what—” Sarvell started only to stop in a huff of surprise.

  Dead silence.

  Unable to take the suspense any longer, she nearly wailed, “What’s in bed with me?!”

  “That is quite possibly the biggest dog I’ve ever seen,” Sarvell stated in a painfully neutral tone.

  Jewel froze, still teetering between panic or hysterics. “Dog?”

  “A kuvasz,” Rialt elaborated although he sounded surprised instead of alarmed like his companion. “Good dogs, these. We use ‘em for herding or scouting dogs as they be right intelligent. Now, how by Corbard’s beard did he get up here?”

  This information, so calmly delivered, actually settled Jewel’s nerves in a way that reassurances wouldn’t have. “So, he’s not aggressive?”

  Rialt gave an earthy chuckle. “Bless you, lass, no. They be gentle giants unless their people be under attack. Then gods help you, because they be ferocious fighters! But all in all, they be gentle beasts. This one seems quite keen on you, the way he be watching your every move. Although for the life of me, I can no ken how he snuck in your room.”

  Something hard, covered in short fur pushed up against her jawline in short bumps. “Is he nuzzling me?” she asked in confusion, sitting up enough to put both hands against the dog’s chest.

  “Yes, he is.” Sarvell sounded torn between amusement and puzzlement. “He does seem quite fond of you. Odd, I thought this breed wasn’t really friendly?”

  “Oh, they be friendly enough with their people,” Rialt disagreed, “but it takes time for them to warm to strangers. Well, let us see if we can no get him off the bed at least. Here, boy.” The sound of a hand slapping against a knee. “Come on, now, and let yon lass be.”

  The dog didn’t budge an inch.

  “…he just ignored me now, did he no.” It clearly wasn’t a question.

  “Rialt, the dog has been completely ignoring us since we entered the room,” Sarvell informed him dryly. “The only thing he’s interested in is her. Jewel, try talking to him.”

  She had never in her life been around a dog before, so wasn’t sure how to talk to him. Hesitantly, she phrased it the way she would talk to a child. “Um, can you get down? I want to get out of bed.”

  Instantly, the dog stood up on the mattress before lightly jumping to the floor. Relieved, Jewel threw the covers back and swung her legs over. The skin on her shins felt the brush of fur and
she froze, toes grazing the bare wood floor. “He’s right next to me.”

  “Eh, he be quite keen on no being far from you.” Rialt’s voice held speculation. “There be a collar on him. Sarvell, can you read it from your angle?”

  “No, not really…wait, that’s Elahandra’s symbol!”

  Jewel froze, feeling lightheaded for a moment. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  Reaching out, she found the dog’s coat and then brushed up until she found a collar made of sewn leather and cool metal. With her fingers, she traced it around. There. Engraved into the metal was indeed Elahandra’s symbol. The five interlocking rings were unmistakable.

  Either this dog belonged to someone of her Order, or… She bent her head in prayer. Elahandra, do you know who this dog belongs to?

  “I certainly do. He belongs to you.”

  ME?!

  “Indeed.” An undertone of laughter richened her words. “Jewel, my sweet child, do you think I don’t know how difficult traveling is for you? I recognize the challenges you are facing. While Rialt and Sarvell certainly do everything they can to help, they don’t always know what you need. This little fellow does. I trained him myself. He will be your constant and loyal companion.”

  She recognized the gift for what it was—a reward for her willingness to go. Tears pricked her eyes but she fought them back. Thank you.

  “You are very welcome. His name is Bortonor, by the way. Oh, and don’t worry…he and your other guards will come to terms eventually.”

  Jewel frowned, feeling suspicions grow. What do you mean “come to terms?”

  With a mischievous laugh, the presence of her goddess disappeared.