“Whose service are you in?” the man with the bow asked.
“Karak,” Valessa answered.
“No, your lord.”
“We have no lord but Karak,” she said, starting to lose whatever patience she had. The men stepped closer, and she spaced out the distance between them. She could be at their side in a second, two at most …
“So you’re not with Lord Sebastian?” the man with the club asked.
Claire rolled her eyes.
“No,” Valessa said. “We’re not.”
He jabbed the other with his elbow.
“I tolds you,” he said. “We just killed them ladies’ horse!”
“How was I supposed to know? They was riding along like they was messengers!”
“You two are bandits, I take it?” Valessa asked. The two men, seeing that she did not appear angry, calmed.
“We’re warriors of Kaide Goldflint, not bandits.”
The two gray sisters exchanged a look.
“Is that so?” Valessa said. “Pardon me. I would hate to insult such mighty men. Please, put your weapons down. I would feel terribly upset if one of us was hurt through another … accident.”
The closer one lowered his bow, but the other kept a tight grip on his club. He was staring at her daggers, she realized. She certainly didn’t look the helpless maiden. Realizing this, she abandoned her stance, and a smile crossed her face, an easy, well-practiced mask.
“We’re ladies of the south,” she said. “My weapons-master taught me a few things, but I can only do so much with these little blades. Hate holding them, honestly. Fighting is for the men.”
“Aye, it is,” said the bowman. He approached, and he bowed clumsily. “Forgive us. We meant no harm to your horse. But we’re fighting a war, and sometimes accidents can hap—”
Valessa rammed her elbow into his throat, silencing him. Her first slash cut the string from his bow. Her other hand sliced in, opening his belly. A twirl, and both daggers ripped gashes across his chest. Mouth hanging open, he stared at her, dumbfounded, as he died. She heard a twang, followed by a sharp whistle, and knew Claire’s crossbow was at it again. Turning to the man with the club, she found him slumped against a tree, a bolt sticking out of his left eye. He tried to say something, but the poison was already working through his body, paralyzing him.
Valessa wiped the blood from her daggers and sheathed them. Checking herself, she found she’d stepped in where her horse had shit itself upon death. Muttering, she scraped her boot clean on the road, then kicked the man she’d killed.
“When we find Darius, he doesn’t die immediately,” she said, frowning at her boot. “I want time to make him suffer.”
Dark laughter cut through the forest, and both women startled at the noise. Standing in the shadow of a tree, his eyes shimmering, was a pale man in black robes.
“I know you,” Claire said, and the chill in her voice was frightening. “You’re the one who claims to be Karak’s prophet; whom the priests call Velixar.”
The man smiled, his face gradually changing as he did. Valessa tried to act calm, but before her stood a legend. Her knees suddenly felt weak, and her heart pounded in her chest. The man with the ever-changing face, the Voice of the Lion, was truly before her?
“I have heard stories of you,” Valessa said, offering a low bow. “Though I never thought I would be gifted with your presence.”
“Few consider my presence a gift.”
“Then they are not loyal to Karak.”
Velixar smiled, but his eyes were analyzing them both, peering into her in a way that left her feeling naked and uncomfortable. Valessa looked to the dead bodies nearby, and for some reason felt embarrassed by them.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
Claire started to answer, but Valessa cut her off. She would not lie about her mission, not to one as ancient as the prophet.
“We hunt for the failed paladin known as Darius. We are to be his executioners.”
“No tribunal?”
“He had his tribunal,” Claire said. “He killed them. We need no further testimony, no trials. The Stronghold has cast him out and declared him a traitor.”
Velixar seemed amused by the words, but that amusement never touched his eyes. They burned like fire, and Valessa struggled to look away.
“Then you two are gray sisters, the priests’ ghosts in the night. I should have known the honor of a Tribunal would be beyond your handling.”
“We do the work of Karak, same as you,” Claire snapped. The ire in her voice stirred something inside Valessa, and she shook her head as if struggling to wake from a dream.
“Will you help us?” she asked. “We’ve traveled from Mordeina, and the North is vast. Darius might hide anywhere, and it is best we deal with this soon, before he might further damage the faithful.”
“Help you?” Velixar laughed. “No, sisters, I will not help you. I recognize your cloaks, your garb, and though you may not remember it, I dipped inside your dreams last night. That is why I am here. I come bearing a command: leave Darius to me. He is mine to teach, and to discipline, as I desire.”
“We can’t abandon our mission,” Claire said. She was openly glaring now, and Valessa tried to figure out why. She knew little of the prophet, only vague stories, many of them surely exaggerated. To be ordered away from a kill was disheartening, true, but Claire looked like she’d been ordered to commit treason.
“You are disobeying the order of your god,” Velixar said, his deep voice rumbling.
“The priests have decided otherwise,” Claire said, and that was then Valessa remembered. The Council of Stars.
“You have no authority over us,” she said. She felt her palms sweating as she clutched her daggers. “The priests gathered, and High Priest Multhar—”
“Multhar was a coward and a fiend who beat children for his sexual perversions,” Velixar said. His hands shook with rage. “None of you hear the words of Karak. None of you have stood in awe of his majesty and strength. I was there, sisters, one of the first men ever given life from the dust. I was there as he battled Ashhur, when he was so close to victory. Our god gave me eternal life even as he was imprisoned by the elven whore. He gave me this mantle, and I have carried it for centuries, you damn fools. Do you think I care about the opinion of a single man, or his councils?”
Claire’s horse backed away at the violent fury of his voice, and Valessa felt a desire to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness. But she was stronger than that, and her own fury rose up. No one dared challenge her faith.
“It is no matter,” Claire said. “You are a prophet, indeed, but the words of prophets are slippery, and often confused. The Stronghold, in its wisdom, has demanded Darius’s death, and we shall deliver it. If you disagree, then go to our High Enforcer and let him hear your anger.”
“Slippery?” Velixar asked. “Confused? Hear me, the time comes when war will bathe all of Dezrel, when even the faithful will be tested. Angels and demons will bleed from the sky, cities will burn, and I will be made a prince over the army of Karak. This future approaches, and is closer with every breath you take. Do you think, in that newly come age, you will stand before me and declare me false? Declare me confused?”
Valessa stood tall, and despite the hammering of her heart in her chest, she spoke calmly, and with authority.
“In that day, we will serve Karak, no different than we do now. We will not bow to you. You are not Karak, even if you speak for him. We have heard Karak’s words in our own way, and we will do our duty. A man slaughtered fellow members of the faithful, and we will bring vengeance upon him. Do not try to stop us.”
Velixar shook his head. All his anger was gone, replaced with a mixture of sadness and disappointment.
“You two are faithful,” he said. “That I can tell. It is a shame you have no wisdom. I have given you my warning. Darius is mine, and mine alone. Interfere, and I will bring the wrath of the Lion down upon you, and we shall see whi
ch of us Karak truly favors.”
With that, he was gone, vanishing in a blur of shadows that trailed to the sky like dust. Claire’s horse neighed, seeming more at ease after the prophet’s vanishing.
“Bravely spoken,” Claire said, guiding her horse over and offering Valessa a hand. She accepted it, feeling as if she were waking from a nightmare.
“I pray we did no wrong,” she said.
“Do not worry. He’s a phantom of another age. The world has moved on, though I fear he still lingers in past wars and sacrifices.”
“If you say so,” Valessa said, sitting behind Claire atop her horse. “Still, he is powerful. I have no doubt about that. And I doubt your poisons will do anything more than make him mad.”
“Well,” Claire said, gently nudging her horse onward. “In that case, we can always cut off his damn head. I don’t care how immortal he thinks he is. No one lives through that.”
Thinking of his gaze, and those eyes which burned like fire, Valessa didn’t feel quite so certain.
4
After Jerico finished his morning meal, Kaide stepped inside without knocking. He leaned against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed, eyes hard. Jerico pretended not to notice.
“You didn’t try to escape,” Kaide said.
“Was I supposed to?”
“You can’t be happy with my keeping you here. To be honest, I’m not happy about it, either. But you saved the life of my friends last night. If given the choice of keeping them alive, or letting you loose, well … surely you understand my choice?”
Jerico sighed.
“Do you think me an idiot?” he asked. “I can see what is before me. I understand, and I don’t blame you. Doesn’t mean I like it, or that I think you’re in the right. There are other ways.”
“Then why did you not try to flee? Did you know I posted a guard in secret?”
Jerico shook his head.
“No, Kaide. When I leave this place, I will leave in daylight, standing tall, and my shield upon my back. Not like a thief. Not like a coward. Besides … I have nowhere else to go.”
Kaide looked away, and he seemed lost in thought. Jerico returned to his bed and sat upon it. He missed his armor, particularly his shield. Still, vulnerable as he was, he would not act it before the bandit leader. Ashhur was still with him, no matter the state of the rest of the world. With him, he would show no fear.
“You are a paladin,” Kaide said suddenly. “Your word is law to you, correct?”
“I don’t lie, and I don’t break promises,” Jerico said. “Just not my style.”
“Then fight for me,” he said. “Give your word you won’t leave, and you can be free to roam the forest. You alone could frighten many a knight, and to have you there in the conflict … those I left behind, they might still be alive.”
“No,” Jerico said, shaking his head. “I won’t lift my mace for you. But I will promise to stay until I have your leave, if you’ll let me come and go as I please. You have my word.”
Kaide didn’t look happy, and his frown looked strong enough to cut stone.
“Some of my men worship your god,” he said. “They want you to counsel them, give one of your … whatever, sermons. Will you?”
“You heard my demands.”
“Fine. Give me your word.”
Jerico stood and offered his hand.
“I will stay, offer my wisdom, and help keep your men alive. All I ask is that you listen, and lie to me not, as I will not lie to you.”
“Your kind can sense lies,” Kaide said. “Is that not what the stories say?”
“They do.”
Kaide took his outstretched hand and shook it by the wrist.
“Then you know I speak truth. Help me, protect those I care for, and you will be no prisoner.”
“Excellent,” Jerico said, a smile spreading across his face. “I was about to go insane cramped in here. When do I get my shield and armor back?”
Kaide opened the door and stepped out.
“I don’t remember saying anything about that,” he said, and winked. Jerico opened his mouth, closed it, and realized he should pay more attention to the deals he made.
“Never was much for politics,” he muttered to himself.
Kaide led him to the main campfire, where the rest of the men were eating. Some gave him a strange look, but most appeared happy to see him. Given how many of their wounds he tended, Jerico figured he at least deserved a bit of common courtesy.
“Jerico has agreed to help us, of his own volition,” Kaide said to the men. “He is no prisoner, and I expect you all to treat him like one of our own.”
“He gonna fight?” one of the burlier ones asked.
“Can he fight?” asked another familiar voice. Jerico turned and saw Adam glowering nearby.
“A mace and a shield,” Jerico said, grinning at him. “That’s all I’d need to get that nose of yours broken in a more appealing direction.”
The rest laughed, and Jerico was surprised to see Adam did, too.
“Took nearly six of us to take this bull down,” he said, smacking Jerico across the back. “And that was with a damn net to help. Better you with us than locked in a cabin like an unfaithful woman.”
“Jerico will only be using his healing arts,” Kaide said, sounding none too pleased about it. He glanced at Jerico, and there was a spark of hope in his eyes. “Though maybe he will help in your training. There’s only so much I can teach you sods, and my training is nothing compared to what the Citadel offers.”
“Offered,” Jerico said.
Kaide gave him a funny look, then shrugged.
“Either way, he’ll be giving his sermons soon, though it will be up to him when—”
He stopped, and Jerico followed his gaze. A horse approached from the forest path, though its rider was not the soldier or bandit he expected. Instead it was a young boy, still a year or two from having the first hairs sprout from his chin. He rode to the fire and hopped down before the horse was even settled.
“Kaide!” he cried, rushing up to the man.
“What is it?” Kaide asked, a deathly seriousness coming over him. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Beth,” the boy said. “She, she …”
Kaide put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, holding him still as tears overwhelmed his ability to talk. Jerico stepped beside him, and whispering a prayer, put his hand on top of the boy’s head. Calming emotions poured into him, so when Kaide spoke, he had rapt attention.
“Listen to me, Ricky,” he said. “Take a deep breath, right now, and then let it out. Good. Don’t look at anyone else, just at me. Tell me what’s wrong. No tears. Just talk.”
Ricky sniffed, but he stared ahead, and did as Kaide asked.
“Beth got bit by a spider,” he said. “First Ma thought it was nothing, but it made her veins red like a strawberry, and it went all the way up her arm. Ma says we should’ve cut it off, but we didn’t, and she’s getting worse, and her hand, it’s … it’s …”
“Enough,” Kaide said. “You’ve done fine. Tell me, wasn’t there a paladin there? Gahal, or something like that?”
“He’s gone,” Ricky said, shaking his head. “We got no one. That’s why Ma sent me to you. She said she wants you there for Beth, before she … goes.”
Kaide patted the boy on the head, then stood. He looked to Jerico, who didn’t even need to think before answering.
“You know I will,” he said.
“Your sister ain’t going anywhere,” Kaide said, motioning for another of the men to come take care of the boy as well as stable the horse. “You understand me, Ricky? Rest up, and eat something.”
He hurried toward the southern edge of their camp, and Jerico followed.
“You gave me your word,” Kaide said as they entered a small stable with only three horses.
“I plan on keeping it, too.”
“Can you ride a horse?”
Jerico grabbed a saddle and set it at
op the largest of the three.
“Learned plenty at the Citadel,” he said, feeling a sting just saying the place’s name. “Yes, I can ride, and ride fast. How far is Beth’s village?”
“Place called Stonahm. Six hours ride, four if we push the horses to their limit.”
“I’d rather not kill one creature trying save another,” Jerico said as he mounted.
“My Beth is no creature,” Kaide said, fury in his eyes.
“Forgive me,” Jerico said, stepping back. “Then we’ll see just how strong these beasts are. My shield, where is it?”
Kaide shook his head.
“I’m traveling alone with you on horseback while leaving my little fortress. Let’s not test my trust any further than I already am. Now ride, you bastard, and try to keep up.”
He kicked the sides of his own horse and bolted down the path as if the hounds of the Abyss were at his heels. Jerico whispered a soothing word to his own mount, offered a prayer to Ashhur, and then was off in chase.
The hours passed, Kaide in the lead, Jerico trailing. They left the forest within the first half hour, bursting onto open plains like wanted men … which in a sense they were, though Jerico derived little pleasure from the comparison as he thought of it. Now without a path, Jerico relied on Kaide to lead the way. The hooves thundered below them, and Jerico prayed no animal holes or hidden rocks tripped either of them. As the day wore on, the plains turned to hills, and they wound through their centers. The grass, which had been thick and tall enough to scratch at the bottoms of his feet, steadily shrank. When the hills ended, Jerico saw the first of the farmland.
“There?” Jerico shouted, pointing to a distant village.
“Beyond,” Kaide shouted back.
A shift of direction, and they found themselves on a worn dirt road. Following it, they crossed between the fields, all low-cut and freshly harvested. They stopped at a stream to let their horses drink and catch their breath.
“Would that we could ride all day without stopping,” Kaide muttered.
“It has to be done,” Jerico said, knowing it would be little comfort. “How old is Beth? If she’s big enough, she might fight off a bite, unless the spider was a black fiddler.”
Paladins 02 - Clash of Faiths Page 5
