by F. P. Spirit
Gryswold stared at the cleric, his anger slowly abating, but his face remained riddled with doubt. Glo could see how torn the Baron was and tried to assure him further. “If such a struggle had taken place, we would certainly have seen evidence of it. The only real damage to the house resulted from our encounter with the air elemental.”
Gryswold’s gaze shifted back and forth between Glo and Aksel until the uncertainty faded from his eyes. Finally, he let out a deep sigh. “Yes, yes, you are quite right. Maltar would not have gone down without a fight.”
“Poor Abracus,” Gracelynn murmured. “He was a gentle soul. He did not deserve to die in such a foul manner.” The lady wore a forlorn expression.
Gryswold turned to his wife, his face filled with compassion. “No, most certainly not.” He strode over and took her hand in his own. “Do not fear. We will see to his family—and the poor cook’s as well.”
A thin smile spread across her face—she looked lovingly into his eyes. “Thank you my dear.”
Gryswold patted her hand, then turned back to the duo. “So you have no idea where Maltar might have gone?”
“The others are out combing the town,” Aksel told him. “Hopefully someone will have seen Maltar or one his missing apprentices.”
The Baron began to pace once more. “If Flibin is responsible, as you surmise, then he may be long gone by now.”
“That still leaves Gristla,” Glo reminded him.
“Indeed.” Gryswold stopped and swung around to face them. “Let us know the moment you hear anything.”
“We will, your Lordship,” Aksel said.
A brief smile crossed the Baron’s lips, then his expression grew serious. “That still leaves me with one problem. I was counting on Maltar attending Andrella’s party tomorrow.”
The Lady Gracelynn placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Gryswold?”
The Baron, lost in thought, turned to gaze at her. “Yes, dear?”
“What about Glolindir?”
“Glolindir?” His eyes opened wide. “Glolindir,” he repeated, his face suddenly brightening. “Why, yes, of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”
Both monarchs turned toward him. Glo gazed from Gryswold to Gracelynn. Did I hear correctly? Are they suggesting I stand in for Maltar?
Gryswold’s expression grew solemn. “Glolindir, in the event that Maltar cannot be found, I would like you to stand in for him at Andrella’s party.”
Glo felt his knees momentarily buckle. They were serious! They wanted him to stand in for Maltar—to take his place at the Baron’s side. Glo felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He was not sure he deserved such an honor. Perhaps if I came clean about the lighthouse...
Glo opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself. These two already had too much to deal with. Between the threat of the Serpent Cult, the assassin attack, and Maltar’s disappearance, the last thing they needed to hear about was more destruction. He vowed instead to tell them when this was all over. He replied in a gracious tone. “Why, it would be an honor, your Lordship.”
“Excellent!” Gryswold’s expression softened, relief flooding his face. The Lady Gracelynn mirrored his response. A familiar young voice spoke out from behind them.
“I assure you, good wizard, the honor is ours.” Glo spun around and saw the Lady Andrella entering the throne room. She walked up the center aisle toward them. “With all you have done for our town, it is the least we can do in return.”
Glo felt the heat rise in his cheeks, not used to such praise. He bowed low in response. “It is our pleasure, your Ladyship.”
Andrella’s lips parted as she flashed him a dazzling smile. At the base of the stairs, she stopped, her eyes sweeping the chamber. “Where are your other companions?”
Glo suppressed a smile, quite aware of who the young lady was looking for.
“They had some errands to do around town,” Aksel said.
“Well that’s a shame.” Andrella’s face clouded over with disappointment, but she immediately caught herself and braved a tiny smile. “It’s always... pleasant when the Heroes of Ravenford come for a visit.”
“Thank you, good Lady,” Aksel replied.
Andrella curtseyed quite courteously in return. She then whirled toward the Baroness. “Mother, may I speak with you in private?”
“Certainly, dear.” Lady Gracelynn stepped down and took her daughter’s arm. The two of them strode slowly away, arm in arm across the large chamber. Glo caught some of their conversation.
“Mother, I need a new dress...”
“But Andrella, we already had a new dress made for you!”
“But Mother, this dress needs to be extra special!”
The corners of Glo’s mouth upturned. He was sure he knew why her dress needed to be “extra special.” It had to do with a certain handsome young Penwick noble. Any further eavesdropping was interrupted by the Baron.
“Gentlemen.”
Glo spun around and saw Gryswold motioned them to follow him. He strode toward the opposite side of the chamber from the two ladies. Glo cast a glance at Aksel, who merely shrugged in response. On the other side of the chamber, Gryswold addressed them in a hushed tone.
“This whole Serpent Cult thing has me more and more worried. It’s bad enough that they sent this Voltark and his crew here, and that they may be targeting Andrella.” He paused and glanced over at his wife and daughter. From what Glo could hear, they were still immersed in their discussion about dresses. “But this attack on Maltar’s home makes them far more dangerous. There’s no telling what they’ll try next.” His expression was grim. His eyes, however, told another story. There was clearly fear in them—not fear for himself, but for his family.
Glo felt a momentary pang of homesickness. He briefly wondered how his mother, Aerandir, was doing. When he left, he remembered seeing a similar look in her eyes. It was a fear born out of concern for him as he set out into the world on his own. Seeing that level of concern in Gryswold’s eyes touched something deep inside the young elf. A warmth rose in him for this man and his family. Glo resolved that he would do anything to protect them.
In the meantime, Aksel did his best to reassure the Baron. “Do not worry, your Lordship. We already surmised they might try something at the party. We have a plan to deal with them.”
“Truly?” Gryswold gazed intently at Aksel and Glo.
Glo gave the Baron a reassuring nod. He and Aksel had indeed discussed the topic on the way over from Maltar’s house. They had fleshed out a basic plan, but the details still needed to be ironed out.
The Baron’s expression grew hard. “What will you need?”
Aksel continued his explanation. “Primarily, we will need to position ourselves close to you and your family. If you can work out the seating arrangements...”
“Done!” Gryswold declared. The fear in his eyes had disappeared, replaced with the fire of conviction. Gryswold was a man of action, and now that he had a clear path to take, his doubts subsided. “What else?”
“The perimeter of the keep will need to be watched as well. Therefore, some of us will need to forgo your gracious invitation. Instead, we will place ourselves at strategic locations around the grounds.”
Glo suppressed a smile. Aksel and Seth had reservations about sitting with the nobles at the party, so this plan worked out well for the both of them.
Gryswold nodded. “Your sacrifice is duly appreciated.”
Aksel smiled wanly at the Baron, a trace of guilt on his normally serene face. Glo took up the discussion from there.
“Finally, we will set up a method of signaling each other. That way, those on the perimeter can warn the others of any impending danger. So if the Serpent Cult makes a move, we will be ready for them.”
Gryswold paused and stroked his beard as he mu
lled it over. Finally, he shook his head, his expression one of approval. “A sound plan, my friends, a sound plan. Between yourselves and the castle guards, we should be able to handle any contingency—even dark mages that can turn into serpents.”
That last was said somewhat in jest, but Glo knew that might be exactly what they would face. It was also not lost on him just how much faith the Baron was placing in them. Glo responded with a sincerity he felt to his very core. “Thank you, your Lordship, for giving us this opportunity to protect you and your loved ones. We will not fail you.”
Gryswold regarded him silently, then reached out and placed a hand on Glo’s shoulder. “Thank you, Glolindir.” His arm dropped back to his side and the Baron of Ravenford took a step back. “Thank you both. Your loyalty to my family, and our town, is very much appreciated.”
The Baron then reached up with both hands and rubbed them across his face. He suddenly appeared quite tired. It struck Glo that he had probably not slept very much with all the added strain over these last few days. Gryswold’s hands fell to his sides. “Very well, we will continue with our preparations for the party. Keep us apprised of any new developments in your search for Maltar and his apprentices.”
“Will do, your Lordship.” Aksel assured the weary monarch.
The two companions bowed then turned to leave. Glo noted that Lady Gracelynn and Andrella were still in the middle of their discussion. They had not gone more than a few steps when the Baron had called out after them.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
The duo stopped and spun back around.
“There will be a tournament the morning after the party. I’ve taken the liberty of placing an entry in for Lloyd.”
Glo arched an eyebrow. He exchanged glances with Aksel, who appeared as surprised as he.
Gryswold strode forward and continued to speak loudly. “I would think a young Penwick noble like himself would make a fine addition to the tourney.”
Glo heard Andrella squeal from the opposite side of the room. “Ooh, Mother! Now I will absolutely need that dress!”
“Andrella...” Gracelynn began.
Glo never caught her response. Gryswold leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially. “Maybe he can show up some of these Dunwynn fops who keep fawning over my Andrella.”
A stifled laugh escaped Glo’s closed mouth. His gaze shifted from Gryswold to Aksel. Somehow, the little cleric managed to keep a straight face. He stared at the Baron and replied in an even tone. “That was very thoughtful of you, your Lordship. We will be sure to tell Lloyd.”
Angel Tears
Unfortunately, she’s also been poisoned
When Aksel and Glo arrived back at the Charging Minotaur, they found Seth waiting for them. “There’s no sign of Maltar nor Flibin anywhere in town. However, I did manage to find Gristla.”
Glo raised an eyebrow. “Where is she?”
Seth’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Actually, she’s right here. She’s in a back room with Kailay.”
That’s right. Kailay is Gristla’s sister.
Seth led them to a door off the common room. He stopped and turned, his eyes scanning behind them. Glo glanced back over his shoulder as well. There were a few guests, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. Seemingly satisfied, Seth quietly opened the door and ushered them inside.
The room they entered was similar to the guest rooms upstairs. There were two beds, a pair of dressers, a wardrobe, and a mirror. On the south wall were two windows, side by side. The shades were drawn, making the light in the room rather dim. On the bed to their left lay a thin woman with angular features and long jet black hair. Her skin appeared extremely pale and sweaty, and her dark hair was matted under her head.
“Gristla,” Glo whispered in shock. The wizard’s apprentice looked far from well.
A buxom form with long, wavy strawberry blonde hair stood next to the bed. The figure spun around at the sound of Glo’s voice. It was Kailay. The young barmaid appeared startled at first, but her expression quickly changed to one of recognition and relief.
“Oh, thank the gods!” she cried. Gristla moaned on the bed but otherwise did not move. Kailay stepped back to join them. “She’s been stabbed,” she whispered. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”
Stabbed! Glo thought. No wonder she looks so pale. He noticed a basin on the chair next to the bed. In it lay a blood-soaked rag. Gristla must have run into the assassins. It was a wonder that she had gotten away at all.
“Why haven’t you taken her to the temple?” Aksel whispered.
Kailay let out a soft moan. “She wouldn’t let me. She kept going on about men in black robes. She was afraid if I sent for a cleric they would follow them here.” The young woman’s frustration was obvious. Tears welled in her eyes—she appeared as if she was going to cry any moment. “She was scared out of her wits. Please, Cleric Aksel… can you help her?”
Aksel let out a deep sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.” He walked to the bed and bent over the injured woman, then held his hands out over the ailing wizard’s apprentice. He ran them up and down her entire body.
Kailay stood there all the while, quietly ringing her hands together. Glo’s heart went out to the poor girl. He reached over and placed a reassuring arm across her shoulder. Kailay peered up at the tall elf. Tears streamed openly down her face. She smiled briefly at his kind gesture, moving closer. She slipped a slender arm around his waist and rested there against his side. He could feel her body convulsing as she silently continued to cry. Over by the bed, Aksel finished his examination. He stepped back and rejoined them.
“It’s not just a stab wound,” he said softly. “That I can heal. Unfortunately, she’s also been poisoned.”
Kailay wailed in despair. “Oh, no! Is there anything you can do for her?”
A look of extreme sorrow spread across Aksel’s features. He shook his head slowly, his reply barely audible. “I’m sorry. I haven’t learned to heal poisons as of yet.”
Kailay let out a sharp gasp then buried her head into Glo’s robes. She sobbed uncontrollably, her entire body shaking. Glo placed his other arm around her shoulders. He gently patted her on the back, trying to comfort her.
“Oh, please,” she managed between sobs, “there must be something you can do. Don’t let her die!” Her voice broke on that last word.
“She’s too weak to move,” Aksel said, his expression still pained. “We should send for another cleric from the temple. She doesn’t have much time.”
Aksel’s eyes shifted toward Glo, and he shook his head. Glo sighed. It appeared that poor Gristla had no time left at all. Kailay continued to sob into his chest, the wetness of her tears seeping through his shirt.
Tears? The word sparked something in Glo’s memory. He grabbed Kailay by the shoulders and gently pushed her back. “Wait! I think I have something that will help.”
Kailay’s crying stopped and she gazed at him with a confused expression. Glo let go of her, unslung his backpack, and placed it on the floor in front of him. He reached inside and rummaged through it. Seth peered over his shoulder. “What are you looking for?”
“This!” Glo cried in triumph. He pulled his hand out of the pack and in it held a small vial filled with a white glowing liquid. Glo stood up and handed it over to Aksel. “Here, give this to her.”
Aksel held up the glowing vial raising an eyebrow. “Where did you get this?” His voice was filled with wonder.
“It was in Telvar’s stash at Stone Hill,” Glo said. “I’ve been keeping it in case of an emergency.”
Kailay stared at the vial as if mesmerized. “What is it?”
“It’s Angel Tears,” Aksel said as he hurried back to the bed. “It will cure her poison.”
“Angel Tears?” Kailay repeated staring after him, her eyes wide.
“They’re extremely rare.” Seth sounded wistful as he too stared after Aksel.
Aksel called over to Kailay, waving her to join him. “Kailay, I need you to prop up her head.”
“Of course.” Kailay stirred into action rushing over to the bed. She gently slid her hand behind her sister’s neck, pushing it up and forward.
Aksel carefully put the vial of Angel Tears to Gristla’s lips, slowly pouring the contents into the poisoned woman’s mouth. He held it there and waited until every drop had passed through her lips. When the vial was empty, he stood back and took a deep breath. “That should do it.”
Kailay gently placed her sister’s head back down on the pillow. Aksel placed his hands over Gristla’s body and ran them up and down her frame. When he was done, he let out a huge sigh.
Kailay eyed him anxiously. “Did it work?”
A smile spread across Aksel’s lips. “Yes, the poison has begun to recede. She is still injured, though, and needs healing.”
“Of course.” Kailay nodded, giving the little cleric a curt smile. She stepped back, rejoining Seth and Glo.
Aksel brought his hands together, his brow furrowed with deep concentration. After a few seconds, he held his hands out over the injured woman and white light filtered down from them, slowly spreading over Gristla’s body. It enveloped her entire abdomen as if it were wrapped in a cocoon. The onlookers watched in silence as Aksel applied those miraculous healing energies. After a short while, Gristla’s skin color began to change—it no longer had the sickly green pallor as before. As the minutes passed, the injured woman’s breathing grew less labored. Eventually her complexion returned to normal. The white light slowly receded and then finally faded altogether. Aksel’s hands stopped glowing. He stood back and breathed a long sigh, then turned to face Kailay. His expression was one of relief.
“The poison is gone now, and her wounds are healed. She needs rest, but she’s going to be fine.”
Kailay’s face lit up. She rushed forward, bent down, and grabbed the gnome, hugging him tightly. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, Cleric Aksel! Thank you!” Tears once again streamed down her face, but these were tears of joy.