Reiter's father stumbled into the common room, wide eyed. "What happened?"
"Excellent question," Anajinn said. The crusader turned her gaze from Reiter, to the chestplate lying outside in the sandstorm, to the apprentice. To the last, she gave a hard look.
To everyone's shock, the apprentice began laughing. Sobs of pure mirth shook her body, and she had to sit down to keep from collapsing on the floor. Reiter's father looked outraged. "What in the name of Akarat happened to my son?"
The apprentice wiped away tears and said exactly what Reiter hoped she wouldn't. "He offered to bathe with me. And then he tried to help clean the armor to apologize for it." More peals of laughter filled the common room. "I'm sorry, Anajinn. I wasn't expecting him to put water onto dried demon's blood."
"He did what?" Reiter's father's eyes darted between his son and Anajinn. Reiter shrank back. "Dried what?"
Anajinn was still looking at her apprentice. "Truly?" she asked. The apprentice stifled her laughter long enough to nod. "How much?" The apprentice made a gesture with her fingers the size of a large flea. "Good." Anajinn breathed a sigh of relief. "So no harm should have been done."
Reiter's father seemed caught between concern, anger, and fear. "What harm? What did my son do?"
"Nothing terrible, as it turns out," Anajinn said. "Do caravans heading to Caldeum sometimes disappear? Yes? I don't think they'll be having problems for at least a few years. Just before the sandstorm hit, we encountered a... nest. These creatures in particular don't enjoy the presence of water. For obvious reasons. The desert made for a happy home." Frowning, she picked up another piece of her armor, a leg guard, and examined it closely. "I had thought we cleaned off everything dangerous, but it's hard to be thorough when you're blinded by sand for three straight days." She bowed toward Reiter's father. "I humbly beg your forgiveness. Even if the danger was slight, the oversight was mine."
Reiter saw his father's mouth moving soundlessly. Finally, he cleared his throat. "I... see. No harm done. I also apologize. For the behavior of my son," he said, glaring down at Reiter.
"Oh, no apologies are necessary," Anajinn said immediately. "If my apprentice is taking a shine toward your son, it's fine with me."
The apprentice sighed. "That's not—"
"No need to explain," Anajinn interrupted her, grinning openly. "Young love. So beautiful. Flowers blooming in spring. Desert roses and such. You know, there's nothing in the crusaders' oath that prevents you from—"
"My oath? No," the apprentice grumbled. "My sense of good taste? Yes."
The uproarious laughter of his father chased Reiter back into the inn's main storeroom. He made it his personal mission to avoid the two women for the rest of their stay, which lasted about a week.
He was mostly successful. At one point, the apprentice sought him out and attempted to apologize for her last remark.
"Anajinn's sense of humor is rubbing off on me. We can be... biting... toward each other from time to time, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry for what I said."
Reiter mumbled and waved her off. She and her master seemed crazy anyway. Demon's blood. He shook his head. That must have been a lie. Unreasonable to think otherwise.
"Strange woman," Reiter's father remarked after they left. "Bett'n she has salt, though. Called herself a crusader. Interesting story. She's from the swamplands. Came ovah to the desert to search for some religious thing, I guess. Yeh should've asked her about it. Fast-natin' stuff."
"I suppose so," Reiter said.
"Make sure to sweep," Reiter's father said weakly. A coughing fit shook his frail body. He clasped both hands over his mouth, but Reiter could still see phlegm leaking through the gaps between his bony fingers. "Inn... clean..."
"I will, Father. Finish your soup," Reiter said.
"Can't... don't like the taste..."
"Bea made it especially for you this morning," Reiter said with more patience than he felt. "You need your strength. Finish it all."
He closed the door firmly and went back to the common room. The midday meal had been served hours earlier, and there were only three customers left at the tables: the two tired merchants, discussing the prices of Westmarch wine, and the religious fellow, quietly paging through a thick book. Reiter walked behind the counter. His wife was sharpening one of the cooking knives.
"Would you mind taking my father some more tea?" Reiter asked. "He's not doing well today."
"Spare a little honey for him?" Bea asked with a sympathetic look.
Reiter sighed. Honey had grown expensive over the past few months. The merchant from Tristram was late. Reiter hoped he would be back by next week, but if he wasn't, the Oasis Inn would run out soon.
"I don't think so." At her disapproving glare, he quickly added, "If we don't have enough honey, our customers will be unhappy and our reputation might suffer. My father wouldn't want that." Bea's expression grew darker. "I'm sure he would tell you himself to skip the honey if he knew the situation. This inn is everything to him. It's his legacy." Reiter fidgeted for a moment, then held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. Give him the honey. A little bit."
If anything, her glare grew even more heated, but she made the tea—with a generous dollop of honey—and disappeared up the staircase.
Reiter sighed again. Even though he had given in, he was sure she would bring it up later. She seemed to delight in making him feel low for no reason.
The door of the inn swung open. Footsteps echoed through the common room. Reiter let his gaze linger on the staircase a moment longer and then began his welcome speech. "Welcome to the Oasis Inn, good sir. Can I help you?"
"'Good sir'? At least that's better than 'madam,'" an amused female voice said.
Reiter turned. The new visitor was clad in heavy armor, the same heavy armor he had seen maybe eight or nine years ago. Helm, chestplate, shield, flail, white tabard embroidered with a Zakarum symbol—it was her. His mouth fell open.
The crusader? "I... my apologies, madam," he said without thinking.
She chuckled easily. "'Madam.' My name is simply Anajinn."
"My apologies... Anajinn," Reiter said. Had that been her name? She looked different than he remembered. Her hair was lighter and longer, her jaw more defined, her nose a bit smaller. Strangely, she also seemed younger.
He could feel the stares from the others in the common room. It was a little comforting to know he wasn't the only one intimidated by her appearance. "Do you need a room? Is your apprentice staying with you?" Apprentice. His stomach clenched. Images of a flipped table and a troublesome stain surfaced in his mind. Embarrassment welled up, and he banished the memory quickly.
"I'll only need a room for one. I have not yet found an apprentice," she said. "I would also like to revisit your library."
Reiter led her out of the common room, toward the library. "Certainly. We have the finest library in..." He trailed off with a frown. Not yet found an apprentice? Anajinn had one when she last visited. Then again, Reiter seemed to be remembering the entire ordeal incorrectly. He dismissed the thought. "Finest library in Kehjistan. Outside of Caldeum, of course."
Anajinn kept pace with him, armor clanking heavily with each step. "I've been to nearly three dozen outposts around this desert, and I believe you and your father are right," she said. "You do have the largest library I've ever encountered outside of a big city. In fact, I've never seen its like in a town like this."
"My father's idea," Reiter said. "Caldeum's Rest is small, but almost everyone heading to and from Caldeum along the southern route stops here. The oasis, you see. Last chance for water before you cross the nasty part of the desert. My father noticed that there were plenty of academics and scholars and religious pilgrims who didn't want to stay at the tavern down the road, so he created something inviting for them." A waste of time and effort, Reiter didn't add. There was far more coin to be made in wine and spirits than in providing a quiet study room for destitute students. "He let merchants know he was willing to buy any b
ooks they had."
"Your father. He is well?"
"He is dying," Reiter said.
Anajinn inclined her head in sympathy. "Is there something I can do to help? Can I see him?"
"He isn't lucid these days. I wouldn't want to upset him with any old memories."
Anajinn looked at him for a moment. "As you say." The library door was just ahead. "Are many of the books new since I last visited?"
"I think so," Reiter said. He hadn't read any of them himself. He held the door open. "Here we are."
"Thank you," she said.
As she stepped back, a bit of her hair brushed Reiter's hand. A bit of her blond hair, he realized. It all rushed back to him in an instant—the master, the brown hair, the name.
"You... you're not Anajinn. You're the apprentice!"
He got a wry smile in return. "Not anymore," she said.
"But... the armor... You said your name was Anajinn!"
"That is my name," the woman said.
Reiter's confusion turned to anger. It felt as if she was having a laugh at his expense. Again. "That was your master's name!"
"And it is my name." She still smiled. "Is it really so strange?"
"You—!" Reiter lowered his voice. "You talk like you are her," he hissed. "Were you trying to trick me? Didn't you embarrass me enough last time?"
"I meant no disrespect. I am a crusader. I am Anajinn," she said. "As my master was. As her master was before."
"You were all named Anajinn?"
"When I took up my master's shield, I took up her cause and her name," she said.
"Took up her shield? Why? What happened? Is your master..." Dead? Reiter suddenly didn't want to know. He hurriedly changed the subject. "Are you still looking for books about the city of Ureh?"
"No," she said. "I'm seeking information on the lost memoirs of Tal Rasha."
"I... see." Reiter didn't. "I'll leave you to it, then." He hastily made his exit and returned to the common room.
Bea was waiting. "A new guest?" Reiter nodded stiffly. "Who was she?" Bea asked.
"She visited here a few years ago. I think she might be insane," he whispered. Bea gave him a skeptical look.
Reiter cleared away the dishes from the merchants and took a fresh pitcher of water to the lone man sitting at another table. She is crazy, Reiter thought, filling the man's glass to the brim. Nobody sane takes someone else's name and tries to live their life. It's not reasonable. Coldly he wondered how long it would take to sell off all the books in the library after his father died. It might be best if this crusader never had reason to return.
A severe voice interrupted his thoughts. "Innkeeper." It was the man whose glass he had just filled. The religious fellow. "Who is that woman? The one in the armor."
"I'm honestly not sure," Reiter said. It was the truth. "She is a strange one."
The man firmly closed his book. On its cover was one of the familiar symbols of the Zakarum faith. It was remarkably similar to the sigil the crusader bore. Come to think of it, this man had arrived wearing armor of his own, not entirely dissimilar to Anajinn's. "She's been here before?" the man asked.
There was an edge to his voice Reiter didn't like. "Once. Years ago. I was just a child," he said, hoping he sounded dismissive. "She seemed odd to me then. Not terribly reasonable, but harmless." Then he wondered if he had misjudged this man's intent. "Is... is she a friend of yours?"
"No." Ice was warm compared to his tone. "Not reasonable, though. Interesting. What about you, innkeeper? Do you consider yourself reasonable?"
"I suppose so," Reiter said.
"Really? Why would a reasonable man shelter a heretic?"
Reiter stepped back. "What?"
"I saw the symbols on her armor. On her tabard. Those signs are not meant to be decorative trinkets." The man stood up, giving Reiter his first look at his powerful stature. "I am a paladin of the Hand of Zakarum. I root out corruption and heresy wherever I find it." He jabbed a finger into Reiter's chest. The innkeeper nearly fell over. "I do not sense the Light within her. I sense something else. She cannot be allowed to dwell within your inn if you serve the faith. Do you, innkeeper?"
"Yes, yes, of course," Reiter squeaked.
"Then why do you tolerate her presence?" the paladin said.
Reiter quaked beneath the looming man. He had never seen a paladin so angry before. "I give courtesy to all who claim the Light's favor. How could I have known what she is?" An idea occurred to him. "She called herself a crusader. I assumed she was faithful to your order. Forgive me," he said, dropping to his knees, prostrating himself. "I fear my ignorance has led me to grave sin. Can you forgive me, good sir?" He held his breath.
There was a long, long pause. "A crusader?" Reiter stole a quick glance upward. The paladin wasn't even looking at him. "Why does that name...?"
"Say the word, and I will have her removed from my inn immediately, good sir," Reiter breathed.
The paladin seemed lost in thought. "Yes. Tell her to meet me out front. I will examine her intentions myself. And if need be, I will deal with her." He strode up the stairs, taking his book with him.
Reiter stood uneasily, wiping sweat off his forehead. This is good, he told himself. Anajinn could sort out her own issues with the paladin. Outside. As far away from the inn as possible. He could hear the paladin stomping around upstairs. The clanking sounds meant he was putting on armor. Reiter shivered.
But he didn't want Anajinn to know how scared he was. She had already seen him humiliated at the hands of a little water and blood. No, he decided. He would simply tell her to leave. The rest was unimportant. This was Reiter's inn—or it would be, once his father died—and he wanted her gone. That was reasonable.
Anajinn was reading through a thick tome when he entered the library. "Anajinn, or whatever your name is, you need to leave now." She glanced up at him and turned a page, tracing along the text with her gauntleted fingers as she read.
"I heard some angry words out there," she said.
"There's a man... a paladin. He says you're a heretic," Reiter said.
She laughed. "I suppose he would." Her eyes never left the book. Reiter stammered incoherently for a moment. "Did he threaten to kill me?" she asked.
"Well, not... Yes." Reiter tried to make his voice firm. "I think he means to kill you. He's waiting outside for you now."
"Nice of him to send you to warn me."
She continued to read. Reiter shifted uncomfortably. "Aren't you going to... face him?"
"Eventually. If he's still there," she said. "He might be waiting a while. I have a lot of reading left. Maybe he'll find something better to do."
Reiter felt utterly helpless. Dragging her out seemed like a bad idea. Still, he pressed forward. "Anajinn, I want you to leave my inn. Right now." She didn't immediately respond, and Reiter exploded. "What is wrong with you? What is in that book that's more important than a man trying to kill you? Why in the Hells have you come back to my inn?"
Anajinn sighed and set down her book, sitting up straight. Her armor clacked together lightly. "Your father asked my master—"
"The real Anajinn? The first one?" Reiter interrupted without thinking.
She didn't seem to take offense. "Her, yes. But she wasn't the first. Anajinn began her crusade a couple centuries ago," she said. Reiter blinked at that, but she moved on. "Your father asked all about our crusade. He didn't share that with you?" Reiter shook his head, lips pressed together. "Then I'll be brief. I'm searching for something to save my faith."
"From... what?"
Anajinn's smile was sad. "Decay. Corruption."
"So why does this paladin hate you so much?"
"Would you be happy to have someone tell you your faith is flawed at its core? Doomed to rot and cause untold suffering and pain?" She sighed. "I don't think this paladin outside is of high rank. Knowledge of the crusade is suppressed to all but the leaders of his order. If he were one of them, he would not wait patiently."
; "What would he do?"
"He would level your inn to kill me." Anajinn's expression hardened. "I don't know whether I can talk sense into him. If I can't, I'll likely need to leave town. So until I'm ready to leave, I'm going to finish my reading."
"But he threatened to kill me too!" There. It was out.
A pause. "Did he?"
"Well, not in so many words..."
Anajinn cut him off. "But you felt threatened." It wasn't a question. Anajinn closed her book. "Then I will leave immediately. I don't want you to feel at risk because of me.
"But this book," she said, holding it up. "Would you be willing to sell it? I can pay a fair price."
Diablo 3: The Reaper of Souls Page 13
