Midnight Quest

by Honor Raconteur

  She awoke with a scream tearing from her throat, face drenched with tears, and a hard hand shaking her shoulder.

  “Jewel, wake up! It’s just a nightmare, wake up!”

  Sarvell. She flailed upright and grabbed his arm with both hands in a vise-like grip. “Sarvell, where’s Rialt?!” she demanded in panic.

  “Here, lass.” Another hand reached out to grasp her left shoulder.

  She instantly released Sarvell and followed Rialt’s arm up until she could throw both arms around shoulders. The dream was still with her, each terrifying second of it flashing through her mind, and she held on to him with every ounce of strength she possessed even as aftershocks trembled through her body.

  “Whoa, lass, what be this now?” he asked in alarm. His large hands came up and started making soothing circles against her back.

  Alive. He was alive. She took in a deep breath, letting the scent of him fill her head. His body felt reassuringly solid and warm against her. The vestiges of the dream fell away and her tremors eased to little more than a memory.

  “That must have been quite the dream,” Chizeld stated. His tone invited Jewel to talk about it, if she so wished.

  Her hands clenched even tighter in the collar of Rialt’s shirt as she whispered into his shoulder, “Foretelling dream.”

  Chizeld hissed in a sharp breath.

  Rialt went very, very still against her. “What now?”

  Jewel took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She still felt like curling up under a bed. Or maybe finding a place to throw up. But she couldn’t do either one of those things, and she couldn’t keep clinging to Rialt like a dependent child. Every man in the room was very worried about her and just as importantly, they needed to know what the dream meant. Taking another breath, she made herself lean back, untangling her hands from his shirt.

  Rialt, bless him, did not say a word to her but simply helped her shift so that she sat on the edge of the bed. When she settled, he sat down next to her with an arm around her shoulders. She appreciated the comfort he offered and leaned into it.

  The wood floor creaked slightly when Chizeld knelt down in front of her and took up one of her hands in a gentle grip. “Priestess, please describe the dream.”

  “Cherchez is not pleased with our progress,” she reported as steadily as she could. Her voice was raspy but she couldn’t do anything about that, and continued gamely. “It should not come as a surprise that he is not pleased that we will strengthen the barrier soon. If we do so, after all, Daath will lose its chance to conquer Evard. In the dream tonight, he promised—no, threatened—that if we continue to find the crystals, he will send Daath assassins after me.” Jewel smiled grimly when Sarvell and Chizeld gave an angry hiss. Rialt just started cursing under his breath. “Actually, he showed me exactly what it would be like. The assassins came, Chizeld grabbed me and started to run…” here her voice broke and she had to strangle the urge to cry “…and Rialt rushed them. And then somehow, I lost Chizeld and I was in the middle of…nowhere. I couldn’t even sense anything around me. But I could hear,” she put a hand up to her ear, instinctively wanting to block that sound even though it didn’t exist in the real world. “I could hear weapons sliding from their sheaths, and the sounds of fighting, and screams of pain and I didn’t know who was injured.” That, really, terrified her more than anything. The not knowing whether she’d lost someone important to her or not. With every word, she was reliving the scene more and more. They likely didn’t need to know all of this anyway. The fact that the dream terrified her right to her bones was enough. She finished with, “Sarvell, you woke me up just as I heard him die.”

  “Jewel, I wouldna die that easily.”

  “Says the man that thinks taking on a whole castle full of guards is just a bit of fun,” she growled in aggravation. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be that reckless!”

  Sarvell gave a dark chuckle. “She’s got you there, my friend.”

  “If receiving dreams now, it means that Cherchez is becoming irate, yes.” Chizeld said slowly, clearly thinking aloud. “But also means that actions are effective.”

  “Yes,” Sarvell agreed slowly. “It means we’re being effective, but it also means that things are sure to get harrier from now on. He’s not going to rely on dreams to scare her into line.”

  “So our window of opportunity is closing.” Jewel soaked up the silent support from all around her, knowing that she’d need every ounce of their strength in the months to come. Then she lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance and determination. “I think we’d better pick up the pace, gentlemen. We’re running out of time.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  After everyone had gone back to bed, Jewel’s mind kept revisiting the scene over and over again. She awoke the next morning with throbbing temples, sore eyes and a knot coiled in the pit of her stomach.

  Someone had been kind enough to leave a new dress on the foot of her bed. The feel of fine linen met her fingertips. With a smile on her face, she put it on and found that it fit tolerably well. Well, that was nice of someone. Sarvell’s mother, perhaps?

  Feeling a little better about facing the day, she had Bortonor lead her downstairs. She’d barely gained the stairwell when voices from somewhere on the main floor drifted up.

  “—cannot believe that any son of mine could show a young woman such discourtesy!” Pursa said in a very disgruntled tone. “And a high priestess at that!”

  “Mother,” Sarvell let out a gusty sigh. “We’ve been just a little busy with dodging Thornock soldiers and finding lost crystals. Shopping wasn’t really a priority.”

  “Well it is today! That poor girl is not going to run around the country with only two dresses to her name. The very idea is preposterous. Go get dressed. As soon as we’ve eaten, we’re going out.”

  “Don’t you think you should ask her first?”

  “Actually,” Jewel said as she cleared the steps, “I wouldn’t mind the outing. I won’t be able to pay for it, though, unless we go to an Order Temple first.”

  “Don’t you mind about how to pay for anything,” Pursa assured her firmly. “But oh my, that dress does become you. I knew red would be a good color, what with your dark hair and fair skin.”

  Since color meant absolutely nothing to her, Jewel just smiled and responded, “It fits quite well. Thank you.”

  “My father is out now gathering information for us,” Sarvell volunteered. “Rialt and Chizeld have plans to get the horses re-shod. I wouldn’t mind picking up a few supplies while we have the time. If you truly want to go shopping, I will be very happy to accompany you.”

  The very last thing that she wanted to do was sit around the house with only her memory of that dream for company. “Yes, please.”

  “Alright, then.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Re-shoeing the horses actually wasn’t that high of a priority, but considering that the party would be riding the width and breadth of Evard in the upcoming months, everyone thought it prudent to get it done now. Chizeld kept an eye on Rialt as the men followed Sarvell’s directions to a nearby smithy. The Ramathan had clearly not wanted to separate from Jewel and had only acquiesced upon the priestess’s calm insistence.

  Not much passed between the two as both horses were handed over to the blacksmith.

  “Can a man borrow your grinding wheel for a space?” Rialt asked the smith. “My axe be a bit dull.”

  The blacksmith waved a hand over to the far corner, where a grinding wheel sat. “Feel free.”

  Chizeld followed Rialt over and watched silently as the Ramathan wet the stone, pulled up a stool and started the wheel moving. Propping both shoulders up against the wall, the guardsman just watched and let the mind spin free.

  A week ago, when Chizeld had finally caught up with the party, these two men seemed strange. Unwelcome interlopers in a way, yet Chizeld knew full well why both men had been called and not the rest of the guard. Trusting in Elahandra, had kept an eye on things and
tried to analyze the Ramathan and Brynian.

  Hadn’t taken long to realize that both were good, honest men who cared deeply for Jewel. The young woman’s safety was the top priority, with happiness being a close second. Chizeld was not surprised by this. After all, Elahandra would be very picky on who to call for aid. Still, not many men would drop everything and rush off in the dead of night without feeling some regret or frustration. Chizeld was more surprised both willingly stayed even after the rightful guardsman showed up. Most would have taken that moment to make excuses and go back to normal life.

  Chizeld had been doubly surprised when Rialt had chosen to be a permanent armsman. No, that wasn’t quite correct—had argued for the right to be one. Chizeld had realized in that moment that the level of affection Rialt had for Jewel went far deeper than first supposed. This wasn’t mere affection, but a fiercely deep love and loyalty. This level of commitment was what Jewel should have had all along.

  When Rialt accepted the mantle of armsman, all of Chizeld’s reservations fell away. This man could be trusted with anything. In that moment, Chizeld stopped viewing Rialt as a man shouldering a temporary duty and started to see the brother-in-arms the Ramathan had become.

  It was to this new brother that Chizeld quietly asked, “Last night’s dream still bothers?”

  Rialt let out a heavy breath, but neither eyes nor hands left the wheel. “No. I knew the Daath wouldna sit still, no for long, so it nay comes as a surprise. What troubles me be Jewel.”

  Chizeld’s eyes narrowed, head canting slightly. “Reaction was normal enough, considering.”

  “No man, it was no normal at all.” This time, Rialt did sit back, taking the axe off the grinding wheel to look at Chizeld directly. “I have seen the lass face ministers, gods, and un-scalable cliffs. She has never once flinched. Corbeird’s beard! She has faced dangers any grown man would pause over, and her no able to even walk about without aid. I know the courage of her heart like no other. And to see her that shaken…” he trailed off in an unhappy scowl.

  Good grief, did not see the obvious? “Rialt, any heart would be shaken to see a loved one die. Even if only a dream.”

  Rialt gave a scowl as if Chizeld were purposefully prodding at an open wound. “That be no the point. Shards, man, but we be here to help and protect her. No to add to her troubles!”

  “Can’t have one without the other.”

  Steam started coming out of Rialt’s ears. “Chizeld.”

  The Verisan could only shrug helplessly. “Life is trouble. Cannot protect Jewel from everything. The morning light helped to banish the night’s dream anyway. Jewel seemed well enough this morning.”

  Rialt harrumphed and went back to his sharpening. “She was putting on a front, she was.”

  “Mayhap,” he agreed, spreading both hands out in an open shrug. “But does not a person become the mask donned?”

  Rialt lifted the axe from the grinder again, seeming to mull that over for a spell, before blowing out another heavy breath. “Eh, there be truth in that. Chizeld. This foretelling dream business—do you know something of it?”

  “Yes, some,” he admitted. “Foretelling dreams only warn of a possible future. Not absolute.”

  The Ramathan gave a nod as if this only confirmed suspicions. “Although I would lay odds that Corbeird has already dispatched one team to make that dream reality.”

  Probably. The God of Misfortune was very predictable in that aspect. “Need to keep one eye over the shoulder.”

  “Eh, watching our backs be a good thing.” Rialt hefted the axe in his hand and stood up. “Want to sharpen that sword of yours while we be here?”

  Having a sharpened blade didn’t seem a half-bad idea at that. Chizeld wordlessly unsheathed his sword and took over Rialt’s spot at the wheel.

  ~*~*~*~

  Rialt entered the Sorpan home with every expectation that he had beaten the shopping party home by a good two hours. (He did, after all, have four sisters. He knew good and well that a bit of shopping could take all day.) So it came as a surprise when he heard Jewel’s voice laughing from up ahead.

  Good front or no, she had obviously been a bit depressed this morning, so hearing her laugh out loud in true delight startled him. But he smiled as well to hear it, glad that the outing had brought her usual good spirits back.

  It did no take him long at all to find her, seated in the family room, with Sarvell’s mother behind and fussing with her hair and Torilee laying one piece of clothing after another in Jewel’s hands for her to feel and discuss. The shopping trip had obviously been a successful one, as Jewel had on new black boots, a black riding skirt and a dark green shirt that fit her perfectly. She looked prettier than he had ever seen her.

  The scene was so familiar a one, reminding him of his own family, that he smiled without intending to.

  “Rialt,” Jewel greeted happily. “Ah, Chizeld’s with you too. Good. We found the perfect thing!”

  “Wait,” Torilee interrupted with an incredulous look at her. “How did you know it was them?”

  “They have a very distinctive walk,” Jewel explained easily before turning her attention back to the hat in her hands. “This is the latest fashion from Zarraga. It’s a new woman’s traveling hat. The veil comes down over the eyes like this,” she put it on her head in demonstration.

  Rialt stepped in closer for a better look. The hat was more of a slim fitting cap that fit snuggly over the crown of the head, but had a rim that went out over the forehead. From the rim a black swatch of almost transparent cloth was draped so that it covered her eyes. “I can barely see your eyes.”

  “It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” she asked, face lit up in childlike glee. “Apparently, someone designed it for traveling so that the sun doesn’t glare into your eyes all day.”

  He nearly nodded in approval afore he remembered she could no see such a gesture. “It be a good finding, that. You will need your hair pulled back to wear the cap, though, it seems.”

  “But you can do that,” she responded airily, as if this was already taken for granted.

  Both Pursa and Torilee paused and gave her odd looks. “He can?” Pursa inquired with a dubious look at Rialt, as if she could no imagine him doing anything without a battle-axe involved.

  Rialt could no help but grin at their unconvinced expressions. “Four sisters.”

  “Ah,” Torilee nodded wisely, as if all were now explained.

  “So how does this contraption work?” Rialt came around the chair to peer over Pursa’s shoulder. “Ah, it clamps into the hair.”

  “I’m so glad you understand that thing,” Sarvell stated as he walked into the room. “I was there for the sales pitch and I still don’t see how it manages to stay on her head. We bought clothes that match the latest style so that it doesn’t seem out of place. But that means that she looks like a wealthy young lady.”

  “Which makes us her guards?” Rialt responded thoughtfully.

  “Idea a sound one,” Chizeld approved. “But more believable if Jewel has own horse.”

  “At the very least her own horse,” Sarvell agreed on a long sigh. “It’d actually be better with a carriage or something along those lines, but…that’s too cumbersome if we have to make a run for it. Pop tells me that there are Thornock soldiers and bounty hunters all over the place. Even with this disguise we’re bound to run afoul of them eventually.”

  Rialt wished he could disagree, but past experience said Sarvell was likely right. “So horse it be. Jewel, if we throw you on top of one, can you stay on?”

  “Oh certainly,” she assured them. “But someone’s going to have to take a lead rein.”

  “That can be done easily.” Chizeld nodded in satisfaction. “Sarvell, where’s a good place to buy a horse?”

  “I was actually going to step out and do that right now,” Sarvell said with an inviting gesture towards the door. “If you want to come along?”

  Chizeld gave a nod and headed after Sarvell. Rialt stepp
ed out into the hallway long enough to call after them, “A short mare!”

  Both men laughed and Sarvell responded, “We know what we’re doing, worrywart!”

  Eh, well, he would see about that. If they did no bring back something perfect, he was sending them straight back. When he turned back to the room, Pursa caught his eye and gestured him to go out into the hallway.

  “I’ll be back in a moment, dears,” she said to the girls before heading straight for him.

  Rialt knew that look well. He had seen it many a time on his own mam’s face. She had the look of a woman who was no pleased, and he would be shortly hearing all about it. He shambled into the hallway as ordered and watched in resignation when she pulled the door shut behind them.

  “Sarvell filled me in on some of the nitty details you left out of the story last night,” she started without preamble. “I am not at all pleased with Elahandra for making a young, sweet, blind girl take on such a dangerous mission. I saw just how difficult it is for her to move in areas she’s not accustomed to today. Now, I realize that none of this is your idea, but I don’t like the idea of her traveling around with only three men and a dog. Isn’t there some other way for the crystals to be moved?”

  He set himself into a patient stance and answered her calmly. “I wish there were. Mind, I had no hand in forging this mission. We would no be scrambling about like we are if I had. But Jewel’s task be more than just unearthing lost crystals and hauling them back in place. She needs to meet and train the new high priestesses as well, or all might well be lost. I will help in every way I can.”

  Pursa lost some of her indignation and her shoulders slumped slightly. “I know. I’ve seen how protective all three of you are of her, it’s just…this is so incredibly difficult for her.”

  “Eh, it be that. But afore you feel pity for her, mind this: Jewel chose to take on this task. She did no have to. As difficult as the road ahead be, she knew it would be, and chose to go anyway. Everything we do be to protect her—but every action she takes be to protect us as well.”