“Agreed. Though if you’d died that close to the exit, you wouldn’t have lost anything. Our guys would have jumped in and collected your things for you. So, it turns out he played the hero for nothing.”
I thought to myself and realized that she was right. With Fitz, everything was clear—he was a warrior doing his job, and that kind of person couldn’t care less for intrigue. But Miurat’s sacrifice… It really didn’t cost him anything.
“And now you owe him one,” Milly said, finishing her thought.
“Well, he didn’t say that,” I pointed out.
“Of course not. He won’t say anything until it’s time for you to return the favor.” Milly laughed softly. “And you’ll have to; you can be sure of that. It’s Miurat.”
“Who is he anyway?” That question had been bothering me for a while.
“Miurat? He plays by his own rules, and he doesn’t care whose roof he’s under or whose bowl he’s getting his next meal from. And that’s really starting to get to a certain someone.”
“What does that certain someone want from me?” I decided to take the bull by the horns.
“Put it this way: you need to just let anyone know—me, for example—whenever Miurat starts asking you questions.”
“That’s if we cross paths or he finds me,” I noted. “We haven’t seen each other since we got to Hexburg.”
“Oh, he’ll find you,” Milly reassured me. “He needs you.”
“Me?” My surprise was sincere. “What does he need from me?”
“The Gray Witch likes you,” explained Milly, “and that means you know more than everyone else. Or, at least, you might know more.”
“Oh, come on,” I said skeptically. “I stay out of high politics.”
“Sure, and that’s exactly why the Witch told Miurat to personally make sure you got to the exit. Or, at least, far enough that we could jump in and grab your things.”
That was news. But why did I have the feeling, yet again, that I was just a pawn on an enormous chessboard?
“Very touching,” I said. “Sometimes I don’t even know which clan I belong to. The Hounds take better care of me than the Thunderbirds.”
“That’s for sure. Seriously, you should just give up and switch over.” Milly smiled hospitably. “What do you need Elina’s hysterics for anyway?”
“I’ll think about it. By the way, Miurat did ask me one question I was surprised to hear.”
“Yes?” asked Milly, perking up. “What was it?”
“He asked me…” I paused for effect. “…if I had tickets for passage on the clan’s flagship when the armada leaves for Rivenholm.”
“And?”
“I told him the truth—I do,” I replied with all the dignity I could muster. “It’s not like that’s classified information.”
“True.” Milly sat back and thought.
Just then, a waiter brought our food, and the conversation petered out while we ate. Soon, Milly left, reminding me one more time to let her know if Miurat showed up with questions or a request.
I paid for the meal and noted to myself that the taxi ride came out fair and square: she got food and information out of the exchange. It was a nice little trade, in fact. I used her, which she was aware of, and she recruited me, which I was equally aware of. To be fair, I wasn’t at all sure that I wasn’t getting the short end of the deal. Whatever. That whole thing is their business, and it doesn’t have anything to do with me.
That conclusion drawn, I resolved to think more about it. I cleared my mind and walked out into the city in search of the next step in my plan. If everything turned out well, I had a very good chance of finding my way to the foot of the könig’s throne in the very near future.
Chapter Eleven
In which the hero’s reputation pays dividends.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said to a city guard walking by with a proud and purposeful look on his face. “Could you tell me where I can find the Tearful Goddess Order mission?”
“It’s close to the könig’s palace.” The guard held out his hand, pointing me in the direction. “One block before it. I swear; you won’t miss it.”
I thanked him and set off in the direction he’d indicated. He was right; it would have taken considerable effort not to see the mission.
It was a tall, red-brick building that looked more like an oversized and overgrown two-story barracks. But that wasn’t what grabbed my attention. On the roof was an enormous copy of the order emblem—a tear in the middle of a circle. In combination with the elongated figure of the building and the eerie color, it looked at least funny and maybe even monstrous and ridiculous. It was very reminiscent of a small-town version of the Eye of Sauron atop Barad-dûr. Barad-dûr lite, as it were. The coincidence was amusing given the mission’s dedication to the defense of good in the world. But what can you say? That’s avant-garde for you.
I stepped up onto the porch, doing my best to keep the smile off my face—that wouldn’t have been appropriate for a serious institution like the one I was entering. And there’ll probably be another monk sitting there with a doleful expression on his face. Walking in with a huge grin on my face won’t do me any favors.
It turned out that there really was another lean-faced monk walking toward me as I entered. He’d apparently heard the bell ring when I opened the door.
“What can the order do for you, good sir?” he asked me politely.
“Nothing much,” I answered. “Actually, I’d like to speak with the local master so I can pass on a greeting.”
“Our mission doesn’t have a master,” said the man in the robe indifferently, which made me wonder if he actually belonged to the order. He definitely hadn’t seen my reputation, or he would have been speaking to me very differently.
“Oh, yes?” I said in surprise. “But you must have someone in charge, right?”
“Grandmaster Ulof der Bottom heads up the order mission in Holmstag,” the monk answered gravely. “He, however, only accepts visits from exceptionally important people, and is currently busy with chapter affairs. My good traveler, I’m afraid you will not be able to meet with him. If you’d like, I can call one of the younger brothers for you to report to.”
“Okay, Brother…what’s your name?”
“Brother Peter,” he humbly answered. Just then it struck me how odd it was that the gods were gone and the monks were still there. Something was wrong there. I mean, sure, there’s the Tearful Goddess and all that, but this guy isn’t from the order, so who does he worship? He certainly looked the part, what with his robe, prayer beads, and rope belt. What is that called again?
“Okay, Brother Peter, is there really no way to speak with the grandmaster? What he’s doing is really that important? It’s not just anyone’s greeting I have to give to him—it’s Hugo von Shippenshtain himself.”
“No way whatsoever.” Master Hugo’s name didn’t have the least effect on Brother Peter. “I’m trying to tell you: two days ago a plenipotentiary representative from the chapter arrived, a full Knight of the Temple, with business from the great Magistrate Leo von Aikhenwald, himself. He and Grandmaster der Bottom have important issues that they’re attending to. At least, they’ll be attending to them as soon as the temple knight gets back from his visit to the könig. Ah-ha, there he is now.”
The door creaked, the bell rang, and I turned to see the disheveled head and gray eyes of an old friend. Two things quickly arrested my attention: the golden hilt of his sword and the equally golden symbol of the order embossed on his armor atop his heart. The knight had apparently made quite a name for himself in the order. How did he do it so quickly? I guess we’ll see if he had to sacrifice any of his moral standing to get there. If he was still the same excellent young man I knew, he was my ticket to see the könig. If not… In that case, we’ll have to see.
“Whatever you say, Brother Peter,” I loudly announced to the monk. “If the Tearful Goddess Order has no time for me, its friend, that’s a shame. Good d
ay to you.” I nodded and wheeled around once more to face von Richter.
“Laird Hagen!” His voice was incredulous. “Is that you, Laird Hagen?”
“Ah, Gunther!” I smiled. “Of course it’s me! Who else? Here I stopped by your order to pass on a greeting to the local master from old Hugo and ask how things are going with you, and they won’t let me in. I’m too ugly for them, I guess.”
“I said no such thing,” interjected Brother Peter quickly. “I just said that the grandmaster is busy.”
“And that he only gives audience to very important people, one of which I am not, according to you,” I clarified cantankerously.
“You can’t be serious, Laird Hagen!” Gunther’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “Peter, I want you to take a close look at Laird Hagen, so you remember his face and let him into our mission at any time of day or night.”
Gunther took a step forward and hugged me the way a knight should hug someone—hard, like a man. I’m not a big fan of all those new ways of treating people, what with the men hugging each other and the Hi, my dear, with a kiss on the cheek, but this was different. It was like part of a ritual I didn’t know.
Whatever the case may be, I hugged him, too, and clapped him on the back.
“You recognized me, you old devil,” I said with a smile. “You recognized me!”
“What are you doing here?” Gunther finally let me go. “What brings you this way? Your timing couldn’t be better!”
“Well, are we going to talk here?” I asked slyly.
“Ah, I’m such a fool!” Gunther’s face fell. “Of course, let’s head up to the hall. I’ll introduce you to our grandmaster right now.”
“Gunther, what are you doing here?” I asked as we walked up the stairs. “I thought they sent you off to make mud pies or something.”
“Well, yes,” agreed von Richter. “They sent me to the chapter to see our great Magistrate Leo. This one thing happened, and it turned out that I saved his life, and right then, the message Master Hugo sent telling about the witcher got there. Aikhenwald and the council decided to consecrate me a Knight of the Temple and assign me to the order’s chapter. I was opposed to their decision, as I didn’t think I was worthy of such an honor, but there’s no arguing with the council.”
It didn’t look like he was lying, which meant that he really had stood up at the council and announced his unworthiness. It’s a good thing for you, my good von Richter, that you live in this world rather than ours. You wouldn’t fare nearly as well…
“If it hadn’t been for that, I’d have headed east to meet up with you like I promised. But then they sent me here at the request of the könig. Some bad things are afoot here, Laird, very bad. I’m telling you right now, the goddess, herself, sent you.”
I’m not sure about that. Maybe she sent me to you, but maybe, my naïve friend, she sent you to me.
We walked into a pretentiously decorated hall with a mosaic floor, large windows, and weapons hanging on the walls. The asceticism of Fladridge, in short, had been left far behind. Von Shippenshtain, the quintessential old warrior, was also nothing like the round character who came bounding over from the other end of the hall. Grandmaster Ulof der Bottom, I guess.
“Ah, von Richter, my friend, you’re back,” the plump sphere said. “And so fast! How’s the könig doing? Is he still sad and depressed? And who is this? Let me introduce myself—Ulof der Bottom, grandmaster of the order.”
He gave me a ceremonial bow.
“Grandmaster Ulof, allow me to present one of the bravest and most noble people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in this life,” von Richter said stiffly.
Oh, great, I’m going to take off with pride or die of embarrassment. Damn von Richter and his flair for the dramatic. Krolina didn’t teach him anything…
“…Laird Hagen.” Gunther gestured toward me.
No, no, no. It should have been “La-a-a-aird Hagen!” And then the fat guy would have clapped his hands on his cheeks and exclaimed, “Oh, wow, so you’re Hagen!”
“Of Tronje,” I added, trying to clear my head so I wouldn’t laugh inappropriately. That would have been embarrassing. “I think Gunther overstated my virtues—he’s still young.”
“Not at all,” the plump fellow countered. “I’ve heard of you. Plus, we don’t just make anyone a friend of the order—our friendship is a reward for bravery and honor, so you must have those virtues. That makes you worthy of his praise.”
“Master Hugo even offered the laird a place in our order. Sadly, it was declined,” Gunther mentioned to the grandmaster.
“Really?” der Bottom asked as he clasped his hands together. “Why?”
He looked funny, but there was a hard undertone behind his question. The conversation wasn’t as friendly as it seemed.
“I am carrying out a mission, and, until it is complete, I have neither peace nor a free will,” I explained. “How could I serve the goddess like that?”
“That’s true,” der Bottom said with a nod. “So how can our order be of assistance? What do you need? Money, a roof over your head, seconds for a duel?”
“Oh, I don’t need anything,” I said, smiling. “Just stopping by to say hi. I’m a friend of the order, after all. How about on your end, do you need help with anything?”
The fat grandmaster was about to open his mouth, most likely to decline my offer and dash my hopes when Gunther beat him to the punch.
“We certainly do need help, Laird Hagen. And yours would be particularly useful! I still remember how you found that witcher.”
“And?” I looked at him inquiringly.
“And it was great,” Gunther answered, perplexed, with a shrug of his shoulders that said, and that’s all.
“No, Gunther, our guest is asking what kind of help we need from him,” explained the grandmaster.
“Ah!” The young knight sighed in relief. “It’s like this—”
“One second, von Richter,” der Bottom interrupted. “I realize that your trust in your friend is boundless, and I’m sure there is good reason for that. However—and forgive me for my boldness, Laird Hagen—but I don’t know you personally. The secret my young friend would like to divulge to you does not belong to our order alone. Further, and with all due respect to von Richter, I don’t think we have the right to involve people from outside the order.”
“I understand.” I nodded. “And I certainly don’t insist on being involved in anything.”
“Grandmaster!” a red-faced von Richter exclaimed irritably. “Can you hear yourself? Talking with a noble person like that, it’s just—”
“Gunther, your colleague is right,” I cut in. “You have to be awfully careful about sharing the secrets kept by the order with third parties.”
“I’m glad you understand,” replied der Bottom.
“Grandmaster,” announced von Richter in a cold and official tone that didn’t suit him in the least, “I, as a plenipotentiary representative and full Knight of the Temple, insist that Laird Hagen be involved in the investigation brought to us by the könig of the Northern Mark. I assure you that his participation will help us bring the situation in which we find ourselves to a positive conclusion, something as important to the könig as it is to the order.”
“I submit to the will of the chapter,” the fat grandmaster said unwillingly. “By I insist that Laird Hagen take an oath of silence. That is my right as grandmaster and keeper of the Northern Lands.”
“Agreed,” said von Richter, nodding. “Laird Hagen, let me ask you: would you do the Tearful Goddess Order the honor of helping us restore peace and justice in the Northern Lands?”
Your reputation with the Tearful Goddess Order gives you the opportunity to complete the Secrets of the North series of hidden quests.
Reward for completing the entire series:
7000 experience
5000 gold
An elite item from the order storehouse matching your class
A random ability matching y
our class
Title: Knight of the North
+20 respect among the peoples of the North
+10 respect in each of the Northern burgs
Accept?
I was thrilled to see yet another hidden series. This one, it appeared, didn’t even have a level restriction.
You have a new quest offer: Disturbing News
This quest is the starter for the Secrets of the North series of quests.
Task: Hear out the representatives of the Tearful Goddess Order and fulfill their requirements and wishes.
Reward:
500 experience
+1 respect among the peoples of the North
The next quest in the series
I just hoped they wouldn’t ask me to do anything too unpleasant.
“Certainly, von Richter, I’d be happy to serve the Tearful Goddess Order, and will keep my mouth shut about the entire affair,” I said. “If need be, I don’t mind taking the oath the respectable der Bottom mentioned. It would not insult my sense of pride in the least. His misgivings are perfectly understandable.”
Der Bottom nodded happily, clearly pleased with my words. The knight continued staring at him coldly.
“Still,” said the latter, turning to me, “I would like to apologize for my brother.”
“Honorable Knights!” I exclaimed, holding up my palms, “I understand both of you and would like to propose that I take the oath now so we can get started. We’re wasting time, and time always works against us.”
Gunther looked back at the grandmaster with distaste. “Sir Ulof, this is your initiative, so begin the ritual. The floor is yours.”
Der Bottom stepped closer to me. “Laird, place your hand over your heart and repeat after me. I, Hagen, swear to maintain the secrecy of all that I hear, see, and learn in the Tearful Goddess Order related to the affair the order is about to inform me of. May the wrath of the goddess and the order fall on me if I break my oath.”
I obediently repeated the whole unpretentious oath, inwardly noting how soft it was in comparison to what I’d had to swear my first day in the Army.
Winds of Fate Page 14
