Reiter stared at her.
***
Amphi could feel his patience slipping away with each passing heartbeat, like grains of sand tumbling through the neck of an hourglass. Wind whipped through the road in front of the inn, grinding sand against his armor.
"Crusader," the paladin muttered. He could not recall where he had first heard the name. Perhaps he had read it? Studied it as an acolyte in Kurast? No. He was certain of it. So why did the name trouble him so? Crusaders were not friends of Amphi's order. He knew that much, but even that knowledge felt incomplete. The symbols on her armor were carefully, reverently rendered. No obvious blasphemy. She was not a clown, nor was she one of the actors who painted Zakarum symbols on their bodies and pranced around in low taverns.
Cennis. That was a name Amphi hadn't thought of in many years. One of his best friends in the Travincal temples, the boy had had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Maybe that was it. Cennis had snuck into the study of one of the Hand of Zakarum's elders one night and stolen a book. He had excitedly told Amphi about all the things he had learned, things the students had never been taught. He was even a little frightened. He had found hidden knowledge, lost crimes. Fractures within the faith. Strangely, Cennis disappeared soon after, and Amphi...
What had happened to Cennis? Amphi grew angry. It was a familiar feeling. Every time he thought back to his childhood, hatred and rage flowed into his mind. It was as if the memories were buried in a toxic cesspool, covered in vileness. Soon, his curiosity faded in a whirlwind of fury and—
The crusader. Amphi could feel his patience slipping away with each passing heartbeat like grains of sand. He pressed his hands to his head and blinked. What had he just been thinking about? A childhood friend? That was it. He put it out of his mind. There were more important things to focus on.
"You wanted to speak with me?" The voice brought Amphi back to the present. There she was.
Amphi spotted people darting indoors up and down the street. Travelers and inhabitants alike were taking cover. Wise of them, Amphi judged. He abruptly realized that the woman was giving him a strange look, her head cocked to one side. "Are you feeling well, paladin?" she asked.
"Tell me your name," he said harshly. "Tell me who you are, if the evil that compels you—"
"My name is Anajinn. I'm a crusader." She raised an eyebrow. "And I'm hoping we can have a calm conversation."
"I don't negotiate with evil. I smite it where I find it," Amphi snapped.
"Good," Anajinn said cheerfully. "Then we have something in common. But I believe there's no need for smiting today. What troubles you?"
Amphi drew his sword in a swift motion. Her gaze didn't waver, which only angered him more. "You are a heretic, are you not?"
"I am not," she said.
"You claim my faith?" he roared. "You claim obedience to Zakarum?"
"Not in the way you mean," Anajinn said. Pausing, she regarded him with sympathy. "We have much in common, paladin. Much in common. We both want the same things."
Amphi spat on the ground. Why were this woman's words gnawing at his insides? He could barely keep himself from attacking her here and now. The urge only grew stronger, yet he resisted, pressing on in a tight voice. "Those symbols you wear. They are sacred. You have no right to wear them."
The crusader shook her head. "That is not what troubles you, is it? Tell me what you know of me."
"You desecrate my faith," he said.
"How?"
"I... don't... know," he growled.
"Here's what I know," Anajinn said. "I know that evil can thrive anywhere. Anywhere at all. Even among those who claim virtue and justice. Especially if they are not watchful."
"Be quiet," Amphi whispered. His anger was slipping away.
"I know that the path that led you to where you are is filled with regrets," she continued. "I know that you value righteousness, and I know you've come to suspect that something is wrong within the faith. I know that you've struggled to understand it, and most importantly, I know that you are strong, because you've not truly succumbed to evil yet."
"Please stop talking," Amphi begged. She was right. About all of it. There were endless moments when he questioned the actions of his order. His thoughts were in a tumult.
"I know you've felt the Light's glory, or else you would have discarded your oaths," she said. "And I know that you've felt it in the fields, among the world, among its people... but never in Travincal. Never in the temples of your order. And I know that you know why. Deep in your heart, you know. Even if the answers have been hidden from you."
Pain blazed between his eyes. He silently lowered his head. A storm raged within. He sank deep in its fury and looked for truth.
What he saw was a stone. Darkness surrounded it.
Something gave way. His turmoil vanished in an instant.
Hatred. Hatred took its place. Pure, naked hatred.
Amphi pointed his sword at the crusader, feeling clarity of purpose for the first time since laying eyes on her. He raised his hands above his head and summoned the power of the Light. "I am done with words, heretic. Die!" he roared.
Anajinn simply nodded. "So be it." She smiled sadly as Amphi cast his might down on her.
***
Reiter couldn't make out the paladin's words, but there was no mistaking how the expression on his face turned ugly. The innkeeper's son continued to peer through the front window of the inn. A moment later, Bea joined him.
"Get back," he hissed. "It's not safe."
"You first," she said. Reiter glowered at her, but a flash of light drew his gaze back to the street.
Bea inhaled sharply. Reiter flinched. The paladin had summoned... something... that glowed like the midday sun. The man held it above his head, shouted at Anajinn, and then cast it down on her.
Just before it landed, Reiter saw Anajinn smile.
There was a tremendous sound, and a great, billowing cloud of fire flared where Anajinn had been standing an instant ago. Of the crusader, there was no sign.
For the briefest moment.
Light crashed down from above, a bolt of pure power and radiance. Anajinn crashed down with it. The paladin didn't see it coming. And then he saw nothing at all.
Reiter shouted in fear and stumbled backward, throwing up his arms to shield his eyes from the blinding light. When he lowered his hands, the sharp purple shape of the bolt still danced in his vision. Blinking fiercely, he squinted. Anajinn stood alone, calm, flail slowly swinging at her side.
Of the paladin, there were signs. Many of them, scattered across a great distance. The sand surrounding Anajinn seemed damp.
Reiter felt himself beginning to tremble. Bea stood with her hands clasped over her mouth. Reiter stared numbly as Anajinn carefully placed the flail's shaft in her armor's securing loop, and then with one final look toward the inn, Anajinn walked west, down the road and out of Caldeum's Rest, with the setting sun as her guide.
She was accompanied by total silence. The town watched her go with bated breath.
Reiter heard noises from upstairs. From his father's quarters. Reiter sprinted to the second floor and opened the door. "Father, are you well?"
His father hadn't been so alive in months. He was staring out the window, eyes following Anajinn as she vanished into the desert. "She's the one, right? From years ago! I wish she had come up for a visit. I knew she had salt. She took proper care of that bastard, eh?"
"I suppose so," Reiter said.
"I am not a heretic. I've walked in the faith my entire life." Reiter fought to keep his voice steady. Three impassive faces stared back at him. He couldn't tell if they believed him. "I am but a humble servant who hopes to live by the words of the wise prophet Akarat. I'm sure I stumble from time to time, but I—"
The smallest of the paladins, a thin, balding man with a pinched face, interrupted him. "That is precisely our concern. You seem to have stumbled," he said, shoving the innkeeper back. "You knowingly gave shelter to an e
nemy of the faith, and one of the righteous died trying to rectify that. One of our brothers."
"No, no!" Reiter gasped as the paladin slammed him against the wall. The wooden slats creaked under the impact. "When your brother asked for my help, I gave it to him. Without hesitation!"
"With Amphi dead, we only have your word for that," the second paladin said. "But what we do know is that, of all the buildings in this Akarat-forsaken outpost, the heretic chose to rest at yours."
"I cannot see what is in a person's heart when they step through my door," Reiter pleaded. The first paladin's hand squeezed his shoulder. Hard. Reiter squawked in pain. "I've not held anything back! I've told you everything I remember about her, and she's not returned for years!"
The third paladin broke his silence. "He did tell us her name," he said. "Anajinn. That is more than we knew before."
The first paladin shook his head. "I still think he's hiding something." He kept Reiter pinned against the wall with one hand and lifted his other in front of the innkeeper's face. A shimmering light danced between his fingers. "I want him to understand how serious I am." Reiter fruitlessly tried to squirm out of his grip. Sparks leaped from the paladin's fist. One landed on Reiter's nose, and he screamed as pain stabbed through his skull.
"Enough, Cennis," the third paladin said. "If the reports are true, if the crusader is in the area, we will find her. She can't hide in the desert forever without visiting this oasis. There's no need to torment this poor fool any longer."
"Do not question me. I am in charge." The first paladin slowly pushed his hand closer to Reiter's face.
The second paladin firmly gripped the first's arm. "Enough." The two stared at each other for a long moment. Reiter, blinking away tears, feared they would turn on one another. This was far less frightening than the thought of both turning on him.
"Fine," the first paladin said, and he released Reiter. The innkeeper dropped to his knees, clutching his left shoulder and wheezing, snot dripping from his nose to the floor. "Perhaps you're right. The news out of Travincal, the temples... Maybe I am a bit hasty, but I will not apologize."
"There is no need," the second paladin said. "He did give her shelter, however unwittingly. I assume he won't repeat that mistake."
Reiter shook his head desperately. "No, never."
"Good," the first paladin said. "And if you catch a glimpse of that foul being ever again, you will inform us without hesitation." He leaned down, placing himself nose to nose with the innkeeper. "Do you understand?"
"Yes. Yes!"
All three of the paladins turned together and left the inn. There were no customers in the common room. Reiter was alone, gasping and weeping.
A hesitant voice spoke. "Are you all right, Father?"
Reiter gave one final sniff, wiped his eyes, and turned to face his daughter, Lilsa. "Of course. I'm fine. Just some sand in my eyes. Makes me look like a fool sometimes." He stood up and forced himself to smile. She was barely four, though she often seemed smarter than most children twice her age. "Those nice men decided to stay somewhere else for the night."
She bit one of her thumbnails before answering. "They didn't seem nice to me."
Reiter made himself laugh. "I suppose they weren't." He wiped his eyes again. "Where's your mother?"
"Out back with the nice ladies wearing the shiny metal," Lilsa said.
Her words, delivered with total innocence, made him freeze in mid-step. Reiter felt all of the blood drain out of his face.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.
Quickly he knelt down, getting face to face with his daughter. She flinched back at his expression, and he tried to smile again. "What nice ladies, Lilsa?" She drew away from him. Maybe his smile hadn't been terribly convincing. "Which ladies, Lilsa? It's important," he repeated.
Her eyes were wide. "Two ladies. I think one of them's hurt," Lilsa finally said.
Reiter gently picked Lilsa up and strode through the storeroom, opening the back door. The blistering desert sun assaulted his senses, but there was no mistaking what he was seeing. Three women sat together on the long wooden bench behind the inn.
Sitting on one side was Bea, carefully handling a damp cloth. On the other side sat a teenage girl Reiter had never seen before. In the middle was...
... her.
"What are you doing back here?" Reiter hissed in a panic, setting his daughter down.
"She's injured, Reiter," Bea said firmly. "Be calm."
"I don't care! My inn was just invaded because of her." Reiter turned on Anajinn, who had her head lowered and was breathing slowly. "You have brought your enemies down on my inn, crusader, and—" Reiter went silent with a frown. The dirt underneath the bench was wet. Blood dripped from beneath her armor. "What happened?"
The younger woman, the teenager, answered. She was about as old as Anajinn—this Anajinn—had been when Reiter first met her. "We ran into a bit of trouble out in the desert yesterday, and Anajinn forgot to dodge." She carefully removed the crusader's chestplate. Reiter gasped. An angry, gaping tear reached from one side of Anajinn's abdomen to the other. "Wounds from demons' blades don't close easily."
Reiter felt his daughter clutch his leg. "Demons?"
Anajinn spoke in a slurred voice. "You don't need to worry about it. It was taken care of."
The younger woman snorted. "You were almost taken care of. I need to try healing you again." She knelt in front of Anajinn and opened a thick book, an old tome written in ancient script. The apprentice marked out a place on a page and showed it to Anajinn. "Should I start here?"
"Yes," Anajinn said. "Focus. Concentrate. Reach out with your faith."
Reiter looked between the two with confusion. "I don't understand; what are—" Bea's hand sliced through the air. He quieted.
The crusader said nothing further. Her apprentice began to speak, reciting an old law of the Zakarum faith. Reiter frowned. What would a sermon accomplish here? Though he had to admit, the words of hope weren't unwelcome. The day suddenly seemed a bit brighter, a bit warmer. Inviting. Reiter lifted his gaze in wonder. It was as though the Light was shining down on them all.
The apprentice finished the passage and closed the book. "Done," she said. Anajinn raised her head and stood up. She wobbled on her feet for a moment but waved off the apprentice's offered hand. She rolled her shoulders and stretched. Her shirt was still stained red, but there were no signs of fresh blood.
"Well done," Anajinn said. The apprentice beamed.
Reiter blinked. The crusader's wound was gone. As though it had never existed. "Did... what...?" He gathered himself. "It doesn't matter. You need to leave right now."
"Reiter," Bea said in a warning tone, but he shook his head and went on.
"I have a daughter; I have a pregnant wife; and I have an inn to protect," he said. "There are three paladins—I hope only three!—in town, and they know you're in the area. Leave my inn in peace. Please."
Reiter expected an argument. He expected Anajinn to object. But she simply nodded and wearily strapped her chestplate back on. "I'm sorry they've troubled you. Most of their hearts used to be in the right place, but in the past few weeks, they have grown truly lost." Her apprentice handed her a sheathed sword and her flail. The weapons hung naturally off her armor, and finally, Anajinn picked up her shield. "Be very wary of anyone who hails from Travincal. Something dramatic has happened there. They may be unstable."
"I know that, crusader," Reiter snapped. "One of them was a heartbeat away from taking my head off. They blame me for what you did! They hold me accountable for that other paladin's death."
Anajinn stopped moving. "Do they?"
"Yes!" Reiter leaned toward the woman, his face growing red with anger and embarrassment. "You came to my inn. Not anybody else's. Mine. They think that makes me guilty. They told me they thought I was hiding something."
"Where are they now?" Anajinn asked quietly.
"They're someone else's problem. It sounded like they wanted
to search the rest of Caldeum's Rest." Reiter pulled back, satisfied at the look on her face. "So. You've caused me enough trouble. I want you to leave my inn. Now."
Anajinn and her apprentice exchanged unreadable glances, and then the crusader let the edge of her shield slide back onto the sand. She shook her head. "We can't leave."
"Good," Bea announced. "You two need to rest before going anywhere."
Reiter's mouth fell open. "Bea!"
She gave him a challenging stare. "We have plenty of room. We have no customers. We can keep them safe for a couple nights of sleep."
"The paladins!"
"What about them? They left," Bea said. "These two came in from the south. The desert, not the main road. Nobody saw them. We'll set up cots in the second storeroom and pile boxes of turnips and dried beef in front of the door. If the paladins return, they won't know there's a room there. You can even invite them to search. That's what we did when the bandits showed up last year. You thought it was a great idea then."
Diablo 3: The Reaper of Souls Page 14
